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babyshoesnerdshit · 8 months

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batkids high headcanons

CW: weed (duh), characters being high (also duh), slightly platonic yandere, and infantilization

Dick: absolute cuddle monster, he will grab which ever sibling is closest and hold on like an octopus, if the need to get something from the other room he will simply carry them there so they can get it. need to go to the bathroom? it will take 15 minuets minimum to convince him to let you go. some siblings will hit him for clinging but it doesn't stop him at all. he just loves you guys so much, and he will tell you this constantly. super affectionate, will kiss the top of your head, you cheeks, your forehead ect. some of the others with try and stab him for this others will give up and let him. will be the one to buy all of the snacks before the sesh. makes sure to get all the ones he know you like best.

Jason: anger issues? what anger issues? super chill and the most relaxed you've seen him. he will find you and will carry you around on his hip, he talks to you like your a child (only you not any of the other siblings) he has a firm hold on you so the only way you're getting down is if one of the other siblings manages to convince him. however he is super comfy and you might fall asleep. if this happens you will be cooed at and many pics will be taken (however that would happen no matter what you did so). tries super hard to make you laugh but keeps cutting himself off by laughing at his own jokes. totally makes his own edibles. will go along with almost any silly antic you get up to, the best at playing along with the bit.

Tim: becomes super quiet and doesn't make many expressions, observes the others for the most part. then out of nowhere he will say the most philosophical shit that makes no sense to anyone but him and he refuses to elaborate. one of the only times he will fall asleep willingly. he will also hug like an octopus but only to you, you can push him off much easier but less than half of a minuet later he's hugging you again. will randomly start petting your hair when hugging you. takes lots of pics of you, if you ask why he just says he's documenting important things. he will use the particularly good/cute ones as ransom to the other siblings (ex. "if you do [insert thing] for me ill give you this pic of (y/n) high [doing cute thing]" and it always works)

Steph: becomes an absolute comedian, constantly cracking jokes and finds the funniest videos to watch. smiles and laughs at everything. tends to fall asleep before everyone else tho (except Duke but more on that later) finds the most random things funny, one time you found her laughing her ass off at an egg just sitting on the counter in the kitchen. will bat at things like a cat, like hoodie strings or someone's hair (most likely belonging to Tim or Cass). defo the biggest stoner out of the whole group (followed by probably Jason). always has a bag of chips on her, no one knows where she keeps them she just pulls them out of nowhere to start snacking.

Cass: Cass has never been drunk or high or any form of intoxicated, and she plans to keep it that way. she likes being in total control of herself all of the time. she does however like to hangout with you guys while you are high, she thinks its very funny and she takes photos and records things to use as blackmail or to trade. stays silent in the corner the whole time just watching you guys be idiots, if she sees you're starting to get stressed/have a bad time she will instantly be by your side and knows exactly how to comfort you. she makes sure you guys always have enough water, before you even ask there's a water bottle right next to you. (depending on just how high you are it ranges from a glass of water to straight up a sippy cup)

Duke: doesn't really get high often but will hang out with you like Cass, he however talks to you guys more than just observing. the few times he gets high it always a really small edible because he has a super low tolerance and smoking intimidates him, and he usually only uses it to help him sleep. dude is knocked out almost as soon as it hits. if he does manage to stay up he just laughs at everything and smiles without saying much. he's just happy to be there :]

Damian: is too young to do anything so no weed for him. he claims he doesn't care and that he is superior for keeping his mind clear but will then go pout in his room because he feels left out. will hang out sometimes but not often because he is a common target for dicks octopus hugs/overbearing affection. when he is old enough I get the feeling he would still not partake out of spite and so he can say he's better than you.

Bonus: Alfred makes the best food for munchies, any requests will be made no matter how strange. Bruce knows but he lets it slide (only after doing several hours of research on it to make sure you guys weren't doing anything too harmful) because he's just happy to see all of his kids getting along and bonding. Bruce did give you all an hour long lecture about making sure what you had was gotten from a safe and regulated dispensary and how to get high in the safest way possible. I personally think he transformed one of the lounge rooms into a specific high room, it has no sharp objects and nothing that you could accidentally get hurt on, there's pillows and blankets everywhere. he will also make sure you guys properly clean any pipes/bongs. much like many of your siblings he will use this as an opportunity to baby you (he would tell you to hold his hand because you might be a bit wobbly or carry you to bed ect.)

#when i say hug like an octopus i mean they wont let go not that they have many arms lol #batfam #batfamily #platonic yandere #platonic yandere batfam #platonic yandere batfam x reader #platonic yandere x reader #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere x reader #tw high mention #tw weed #tw drugs #drugs cw #cw weed #cw high #batfam high #batfam headcanons #batfamily headcanons

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incorrectbatfam · 2 years

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Things that would happen at Bruce and Selina’s wedding (everything gone right, wrong, and just plain funny)

They took their pre-wedding photos on top of a skyscraper with Tim as their photographer, but when he backed up to get a wider shot he fell over the railing and Dick had to grapple down and catch him while wearing a tuxedo

Steph collaborated with the cake decorators to go all out, including Bruce and Selina's while journey drawn in frosting and sparklers on top... in Spoiler colors

Damian and Jon were playing hide-and-seek with Billy Batson and Lucy Quinn during the reception and no one could find the boys, so a mass search with vigilantes and police officers alike ensued. It took an hour, but finally they were found when the theater called Bruce to let him know they tried to sneak into an R-rated movie

Bruce showed up to the wrong venue

While trying to get some one-on-one time at the bachelorette party, Harley and Ivy locked themselves in a hotel supply closet and the only person with the tools to get them out was the stripper firefighter with a pink crowbar

Dinah caught the bouquet and immediately threw it to Kate saying, "I'm already married!"

When repeating his vows, Bruce accidentally said, "I, Clark Kent"

Also during the vows, Clark's phone went off playing Cotton-Eye Joe and Bruce just slowly clapped and said, "My best man, everyone"

One more vow mishap: Roy tried to start the wave

Dick ripped his pants doing a somersault from the chandelier

Bud chewed up Holly Robinson's shoes and she had to wear flip-flops

Damian adopted a coyote puppy he found digging through the trash

The Flash family drove to the wrong Gotham

Duke sneezed before the "I do," accidentally elbowing the fire alarm

Jason slowly switched seats throughout the wedding so he could sit next to Diana

At the rehearsal, Cass was holding one of the clip-on mics that the officiant used and brought it with her to the bathroom, where everyone could hear her do her business

Bruce invited some of his coworkers, forgot he invited them, and then asked "What are you guys doing here?" when they showed up

Lian was the flower girl but instead of flower petals, she mistakenly threw the rice that was supposed to be for the end

Babs requested a song before the reception started and the DJ put it at the top of the list, accidentally replacing the song Bruce and Selina were supposed to dance to

Without telling anyone, Jason decided to start a new tradition of firing blanks while the bride and groom kissed

Young Justice got a whole tier of the cake to themselves

Harper's wedding speech started with "Bruce might've been in his emo phase since he was eight, he might've dropped out of med school, and he might not know how to crack an egg..."

The party bus Clark rented for the bachelor party caught on fire on the side of the highway

Alfred downed 7 glasses of champagne and loudly confessed that he never thought Bruce would get married

Hal's still bitter that he couldn't convince Bruce to wear the Batman cowl

They waited until an hour before the wedding to teach Duke how to tie a tie

Lucius and Luke got balcony seats so they could see everything. They were the only ones up there and Bruce kept looking at them during the ceremony

Carrie put a bath bomb in the decorative fountain

Nobody knows what happened to the cheese plate. Nobody except Cullen

Steph did the electric slide right into the speakers

Comm. Gordon had to leave in the middle to arrest the Joker

Babs accidentally wore Alfred's socks

Selina thought it'd be funny to wear a pair of granny panties around her thigh instead of a garter

To kick off the reception, Bruce held up a piece of bread and said, "I'd like to make a toast"

#ask #anonymous #bruce wayne #batman #selina kyle #catwoman #batcat #batfamily #batfam #batkids #batsiblings #justice league #gotham city sirens #superfamily #arrow family #dc comics #headcanon #crack #tw food mention

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punkeropercyjackson · 12 days

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Jasumm and Kahali hcs?

THE DRAGONGLASS TRIO!!!!!!

Jason and Kahali are the cooler Bruce and Stephanie /hj

Really though,Jason pretended to find Kahali annoying but nobody except him bought it and that lead to an emotional scene of Kahali sobbing that his own team leader dosen't love him and Jason reassuring him and listing off the reasons he does and a tender hug

Obviously he was never mean to him out of nowhere because Summer would never allow it but they bickered tons and still do but in a different,softer way

Summer was Kahali's first mentor and Kahali latched onto him more than ever after his mom's death as his new mom and they were so close by then Summer happily took the role on and tbh it wasn't hard with experience as a caretaker of kids that started at 10 when he demanded in helping raise Jon

This adds on to why Jason calls Summer a milf as a joke but not really(calling him a milf that is,Summer is one and he's not joking)

Jason is berryblast,Kahali is cherrywatermelon and Summer is cotton candy

Summer also cracked Kahali's egg by introducing him to Mcr and Jason got him to go full on goth so he calls him 'My Baby Bat'

They have inside jokes and select bonding tactics(Kahali is the only nonblack allowed to touch their hair,though mainly because he did extensive research how to and practiced with Stephanie so they trust him with it)

Kahali is a Dead Sidekicks Force member

Summer took Kahali to Senior Prom as his chaperone after him and Tim went back to finish school so they could be real high school sweethearts

Speaking of which,Jason is unironically convinced Kahali has awful taste for liking Tim and makes fun of him for it and dosen't see how the faults he points out in him are actually more accurate to JASON HIMSELF

Nicknames:Didi and Bhadhi,Lili and JT and Summ and Blud

Whimsigoth/Goth punk/Pastel punk solidarity

Jason and Kahali /j /lh

And Summer and Kahali!! /platonic

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bicycle4two · 1 year

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fine as we are, but we want more || Jason Todd x Female!Reader || Chapter 5 of 8

Summary:

all things considered, you're pretty lucky.

in all your years living in gotham city, you've never been mugged, never had your apartment broken into, never been held as a hostage.

until now.

it seems your luck has run out and there's nothing you can do about it other than wait for someone to come rescue you. . .

or, jason and you reunite after a long time.

...

Read on AO3

...

Chapter 4

...

Chapter 5:

You didn’t expect Jason’s hobbies to be so wholesome. You hate to admit it, but you sort of always pictured him working on his motorcycle or doing some sort of extreme sport in his spare time. And maybe he does, but he also bakes snickerdoodle cookies for Barbara and knits scarves for shelters. You quickly find that being friends with Jason Todd means you can’t just take him at face value, that there’s more to him than a strong set of muscles and a dangerous night job. He’s more than the Red Hood.

And although you love being friends with Red Hood, love hearing about his new gear, the types of guns he’s collected over the years, the new bullets he’s acquired that somehow have elemental effects (whatever that means), the little tidbits of whatever mission he feels he can talk to you about, you love being friends with Jason Todd a little more.

Because Jason Todd visits you at Becker’s Best in the morning, because Jason Todd sends you pictures of the new cat that’s found its way into the “office,” because Jason Todd can cook when it’s too late to order food because the two of you were so absorbed in what you were watching that you’ve forgotten to eat.

(You remember scrolling through your phone, looking for restaurants that were still open, when Jason suggested that he could make something if you wanted. And who were you to say no? So, after a quick scan of what you had in your pantry and refrigerator, Jason settled on making what he liked to call his famous instant noodles.

You never thought to add cheese and jalapenos to your noodles before but now it’s a flavor combination that you can’t live without.)

You honestly never expected Jason to let you into his life the way he has, to share his interests with you, to spend his free time teaching you how to knit (you’ve only ever made oddly shaped squares despite his meticulous guidance. He assures you everyone starts out that way. Even Tim’s having some trouble) and how to crack eggs with one hand (“You don’t really have to do it that way. Just use both your hands,” he’d said when you fished out the shells from your fifth attempt. There was a lot of scrambled eggs that afternoon.) He’s even emailed you a reading list filled with his favorite books, both standalone and series. You found yourself ordering a few of them online once you got your paycheck, excited to discuss them with him once you’ve read through them.

You don’t expect Jason to weave you into his life, to fit you in wherever he can, in between saving Gotham, in between research, in between servings tables, but here you are in one of the library’s function rooms with your hair tied away from your face and Jason’s extra Wonder Woman apron wrapped around your waist. Today’s hobby exploration is pottery.

“I have to say,” you start, easing yourself onto your stool, grinning at Jason as he does the same, dwarfing his seat. “I did not expect this.”

“It’s new,” he says with a shrug, already bringing out his materials, setting aside the tools in an orderly line on the table beside him and then unwrapping his clay. “Babs brought home a brochure from the library, and I figured why not?”

“You do know I’ll be humming Unchained Melody the entire time, right?” You follow his lead, only throwing your slab of clay onto the wheel as opposed to just simply putting it on. It lands off center, so you pick it up and do it properly. Which is, disappointing.

“You wouldn’t be the first one.”

“Probably won’t be the last either.”

The instructor comes in and tells the class that you’ll be making bowls today. She shows some examples, bowls of different heights, widths, and depths, even some wonky looking ones with “character.” You think that you probably won’t make anything that can properly hold food, so you settle to make something small, something that can maybe hold your paper clips and those cute erasers you keep buying but never use. After a few safety reminders, the instructor wishes everyone luck, advises patience, and says that she’s always available for questions and assistance.

Oh. And to have fun. Of course.

Your classmates begin the activity almost immediately, even Jason is already wetting his clay, wheel spinning as he envelopes the lump in his hands, putting pressure on each side to make the lump slimmer and taller. He wipes excess clay on the rim of his water bucket before getting back to work, pushing his clay downwards with the palm of his left hand.

“You gonna get started, angel?” He asks, attention still on his work, molding the clay like it’s nothing. “Or are you just gonna ogle at me? I get it. I’m irresistible.”

You blink, a little dazed, before letting out a huff, blowing a few strands of hair out of your face. “Ugh. You wish, Todd.”

Jason lets out a soft laugh, a sort of raspy sound, and you force yourself to not look at him, to look at your dry lump of clay. You wet both your hands and the clay before spinning the wheel, slowly at first, trying to get the feel of the peddle, before picking up the speed and repeating what Jason did to his project.

You press the clay together, watching it grow tall before it flies off the center of your wheel.

“Ah!” You yelp, drawing the attention of those sitting closest to you. And the instructor. Who was coincidentally behind you. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” the instructor says kindly, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Was I going too fast?”

The instructor looks at the lump. “You’ve probably made it a bit too tall. No worries. It’s fixable.”

So, you slap the clay back in the center, ignore Jason’s gaze, and repeat your steps. Molding the clay, trying to find peace and serenity in the activity. Because Jason said pottery is good for stress, but you feel like you’ve never been more stressed before.

(Okay. That’s a lie. You were a hostage to a bunch of Freaks just the other month, but that’s different.)

You spend about thirty minutes in silence, brows furrowed, bottom lip between your teeth in concentration, your clay is finally listening to you, stretching and shrinking with the guidance of your hands. You think that maybe you’ve gotten the hang of it, and you take a break, your ankle hurting from the peddle, looking over to see that Jason’s clay already looks like a bowl. It’s impressive really, how quickly he’s able to make one while yours is still shapeless. You watch him use one of his tools on the inside rim of his bowl, opening it further.

“That looks like a ramen bowl,” you tell him once his wheel stops spinning. He wipes excess clay off his hands once more before turning his attention to you. To your project.

“Angel,” he says, mouth quirking. “What is that?”

“Clay,” you say lamely. “It’s clay, Jason.”

“Do you need help?”

“Please.” Because although you can always ask the instructor, you’ve seen her flit from one student to the next, guiding different molds of clay, helping create different kinds of bowls, and you don’t want to keep her from someone whose project actually has potential. That, and you’re the only one in the room who still has a lump, and you’re sort of embarrassed.

“C’mon. It’s easy,” Jason says, already by your side. “Start the wheel up again.”

And you do, you press on the peddle, gaining momentum and mold the clay the same way you’ve been doing the past how many minutes.

“Good, that’s good,” Jason says and you bite your lip once more to keep yourself grounded because he’s so close to you now, practically cheek to cheek as he moves in to help. And. You don’t know what you’re feeling but whatever it is, it’s not appropriate for pottery class. “Now dip your thumb in the center. Yeah, just like that.”

And you follow his instructions, trying to pace yourself because you don’t want your clay to go flying again. So, you apply pressure with your left thumb, using your right hand to help guide your thumb outwards, pressing against the clay so that the hole you created gets bigger.

“Careful,” Jason says, voice soft. “You don’t want it to be too wide.”

“Got it,” you breathe out.

“Now let’s make it a bit taller. Wet the clay.”

You do as he says. He tells you to pinch the base and slowly move your hand up the wall of your bowl to make it taller. It’s starting to look like a wide Japanese teacup. And you think that maybe you can stop here, quit while you’re ahead.

But there’s a little devil over your shoulder telling you that if you stop now, then Jason’s going to go back to his seat. And do you really want that?

“What’s next?”

He hands you the same tool he was using to widen the rim of his bowl and you try your best to mimic what he did. But you get excited, you do a bit too much. And your bowl is starting to look a little like a plate.

“Jason,” you all but whine. “It, it does not want to bowl!”

“Easy there, angel. There’s still hope.” He looks at it for a second, studying it. You wonder what goes on through his mind, what he sees in your bowl-plate. Because it’s starting to look like you should maybe start from scratch, turn it into a lump again. Or start over with a new one. “Here—let’s just do this.”

And he guides your hand back to the clay, tells you to spin the wheel, and to your surprise he doesn’t let go. Instead, his hands lightly cover yours, using you to mold the clay to his liking.

“Oh my God,” you say. “Jason. We’re Ghost.”

“What?” He’s a bit distracted, guiding you to mold the bowl upwards, to make it less plate like.

“Ghost. We’re having a Ghost moment.” You don’t care about your project right now. Because this is a once in lifetime moment. So, you turn your head slightly, lips angled to his ear, and you softly sing, “Oh, my love, my darling…”

And Jason jerks so suddenly that your bowl goes flying. It soars through the sky before making an impressive splat on the ground. The class bursts out in laughter, but you can’t bring yourself to care, to be embarrassed, because you’re too busy looking at Jason, watching how red creeps up his neck and paints his cheeks and ears. And you’re pretty sure you look exactly the same. Because everything is catching up to you, your mind going haywire.

And you have to wonder if he’s feeling the same things as you. If his heart is beating against his chest so hard, so violently, like it wants to burst out. Because yours is trying to break through your ribs and fly over to Jason in hopes that he catches it.

…

It’s something that he’s used to doing. Patching someone up. With a job like his, it’s not easy to go to the hospital, to explain why you’re all banged up, with broken bones and burns on your skin. More so if you can’t manage to get out of uniform, too tired, too much in pain to peel off all the layers. It’s why all of them know first aid, it’s why Alfred can perform surgery. It’s just easier that way. Convenient.

Jason’s pretty good at dressing wounds and setting bones straight. He’s had to do it to himself a couple of times, too, and he likes to think he’s healed up pretty nicely, his scars could honestly look a whole lot worse.

He just never expected to have to do the same for her. Never in his life did he want to be in this situation, disinfecting her wounds and wrapping her hand. And that makes him nervous. Because he doesn’t want to screw up, doesn’t want to cause her any more pain than what she’s already in.

Because she’s pretty banged up. There’s a cut on her lip and one of the first things Jason tended to was the wound on her cheek. They had to squeeze into his small bathroom as he helped her wash, disinfect, and bandage the soft skin. He didn’t have any make up remover, so she still has mascara darkening the skin under her eyes. Her hair’s a mess, frizzed and knotted from being pulled, from being wrapped around someone’s fist, and her clothes are dirty, the knees of her jeans ripped.

When Jason first saw her, he wanted to go back to the people who did this, do something so much worse than what they did to her, but the logical part of him hit before he left, reminding him that although she isn’t broken, she’s battered and bruised and needs help being put back together.

So, he places the bandage at the inside of her wrist, just below her thumb, and begins wrapping it around her wrist, once, twice, before going diagonally, towards her pinky finger, then straight across the other fingers, and finally going back down the back of her hand. He repeats the process a few more times, wrapping the bandage in a sort of figure of eight motion. And she’s a trooper, really, not complaining one bit even though he knows it must hurt no matter how careful he’s being.

“You know,” he begins, clearing his throat. “When I taught you how to throw a punch, I didn’t think you’d actually to do it.”

“If you don’t want me to defend myself, then don’t teach me self-defense,” she says, pouting.

“I just hate that you had to do it all.”

“It could have been worse. If you didn’t teach me at all, it could have been so much worse.”

It’s supposed to be comforting. She’s saying thank you, she’s saying that because he taught her this, he protected her. But Jason still hates it. Wishes that he was there to show that mobster who the hell he thinks he’s fighting. He tries to find solace in the fact that Batgirl swooped in when she did, stopping things from escalating further, from getting to the point where he couldn’t fix her on his own.

“I’m pretty shit at keeping promises, huh?” He does one final round around her wrist before securing the bandage.

"Jason, no, honey, don’t say that.” She tries to touch him, to bring her hand up to cradle his face but then she winces, remembering why she can’t, the injury forgotten in the wake of reassuring him. “It was just some bad luck.”

“You didn’t use to have bad luck.”

And for some reason, she smiles. She smiles at this, this unfortunate turn of events, and Jason can’t figure out why.

“You remember,” she says, and now, now Jason understands. It’s something from their shared past. The fact that she never used to find herself in these types of situations. “It’s fine, Jason. No one walks alone at night without knowing the risks.”

“I still hate it.” He pinches the tip of her finger to check for circulation, to make sure he didn’t wrap her hand too tight. When the color comes back, he pinches it again.

“Same, but it’s done and, really, it could have been worse. My bag wasn’t stolen. I’m still alive. And I’m pretty sure I gave that jerk a black eye before Batgirl broke his face.”

There’s an excited look on her face now, a sparkle in her eyes.

“It was amazing, Jason! This guy thought he can just rough me up, take my things, and then POW I gave him the good one-two, y’know? He didn’t even see it coming! He lost his balance. He fell! And he was pissed, he’s so pissed that I did that to him that he didn’t even notice Batgirl gliding in before BAM she flips him over her shoulder and kicks him in the face!”

And Jason is smiling now, too, loving that although this bad thing happened, she’s not letting it ruin her night. She finds something about it that’s good and maybe he should be concerned that she does, that she’s getting excited over Batgirl kicking some mobster’s ass, but hell, he feels the hype, can imagine the takedown. And he makes a mental note to thank Barbara again for being there.

“You think you can teach me that, too?” She asks once she’s calmed down. She’s breathing heavily and Jason hands her the bottle of water he told her to drink ages ago but has remained untouched.

“I’d prefer it if you ran away from trouble, but sure. You’re gonna have to work up to it though—lift some weights if you’re thinking of throwing down grown men.”

“Ugh. Heavy lifting. Let’s put this on the maybe pile of weekend activities. So, how has your night been?”

Jason wonders if he should talk about it. If he should mention the progress they’ve made on Batman’s last case, or maybe explain to her how and why the temperature dropped so drastically last week. And maybe warn her against accepting anything from a Dr. Q, because you can’t trust Harley, not really. But he thinks that maybe telling her all this will scare her, make her realize how much worse tonight could have gone if she went face to face with someone stronger.

And he doesn’t want to make this night worse when it already looks like it’s getting better.

But he doesn’t want to lie, either. Because this is different than his usual relationships outside the Belfry, outside those he’s made as a vigilante. She knows him, both inside and outside the helmet, so he doesn’t need to talk in code, doesn’t need to make up some obscure job, or excuse. And sure, he’s had relationships like that before, too, but this is different somehow.

She’s different. And he’ll probably never say it out loud, but something about her just makes him want to bare it all, to let her see all the ugliness in him, to see if she’ll still want to be with him after, to see if she’ll still call him friend, if maybe, just maybe, they could be more than just that, but at the same time, he wants to shield her away from it all, to keep her at a distance so she’ll never know, so that she’ll keep looking at him the way she does. Because he doesn’t want to risk it, to risk her leaving.

“It’s been… alright,” he begins and decides that she can tell him herself how much she wants to know. “You want the shorthand or the blow by blow?”

“Really?” And she surprised, confused. “You’ll really tell me everything?”

“Well, maybe not everything,” Jason backtracks. She knows who he is, but can he really believe that she hasn’t figured out the rest? He thinks that maybe once you know one secret identity, you know them all, but people can surprise you with how easily they can connect the dots, or how dense they can be. “Somethings I think it’s safer if you don’t know.”

“Oh, yeah. I can see that. You can’t torture out information I don’t have.”

“No one’s going to torture you, angel.”

“Of course not, because you’ll stop them.”

And she looks at him in a way that makes him feel ten feet tall. Full of trust. Full of something that he thinks can somehow, someway, someday turn into love. But not yet. They’re not there yet, but he can feel it, deep down, that they can get there, one day. If they just keep nurturing this thing between them, allow it to grow.

And when it does, when they allow it to blossom, then she’ll know, she’ll know that he’ll do more, that he’s capable of doing more than just simply stopping someone from hurting her.

Because he’s made a promise and if anyone dares to touch her again, to hurt her, to do worse than what she’s experienced so far, he’ll become something worse than the monsters in the night.

...

Chapter 6

#gotham knights #gotham knights video game #gotham knights!jason #gotham knights fanfic #gotham knights fanfiction #jason todd #jason todd reader #jason toddxreader #jason todd/reader #fanfic #fanfiction #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #no yn #red hood #red hood fanfic #red hood fanfiction #red hood reader

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ragingbookdragon · 2 years

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“Ma, if I were to jump off the ledge of Wayne Enterprises and land on Tim do you think it would kill both of us in the process or just him?”

She blinked at the skillet of sizzling steak meat and eggs, brows beginning to furrow, then she looked over at the kitchen table to see Jason glaring at his younger brother. “Isn’t it too early for you two to be up each other’s asses like this?”

“Timberly ate my last protein bar,” Jason retorted.

“And you’re upset why?”

“Because it was the last one before I had to order more. I was saving it for later.”

She nodded her head. “In that case, landing on him from that height would probably kill you both. Now, if you jumped from the manor—”

“MOM!” Tim shouted, obviously offended. “WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON?!”

“You did eat his last protein bar,” she said, and he threw his arms above his head.

“HE TOLD ME I COULD!”

“Not the blueberry scone flavored one, you shitbag,” Jason griped.

The two brothers glowered at one another, and she rolled her eyes, going back to the skillet. “Maybe if I pretend they’re not there, they’ll stop fighting,” she muttered and someone huffed a laugh beside her, wrapping their arm around her waist as their lips brushed her temple.

“Not quite, darling.”

She leaned into him. “Good morning, dear. How’d you sleep?”

Bruce nodded. “Pretty good. Whatever that tea was you gave me last night, it knocked me out.”

“Probably because it was a horse tranquilizer, old man,” Jason cracked from the table causing the siblings around to snicker while Bruce stuck his tongue out at him.

She finally looked over at Bruce, spatula stilling in the skillet as she took in his appearance. He wore a dark charcoal suit, jacket unbuttoned, and a light blue dress shirt, with the first couple buttons undone; a simple gold chain hung there at the base of his throat. “Did you…why are…when did you get that shirt?” she asked, and he met her gaze then looked down.

“I don’t know. It was in the closet.” He picked up an apple from the basket and leaned back in and pressed a kiss to her lips; she could smell his cologne and as he pulled away, he murmured, “I’ve gotta get to work. I love you, darling.”

She blinked as he walked away and kissed each of his kid’s heads before exiting through the door leading to the garage; hurrying, she passed Dick the spatula and said, “Dick, stir that in the skillet for a minute, would you?”

“I, wait—what? Mom?” suddenly, he gagged. “Oh God, I should’ve seen that coming.”

She disappeared through the door that Bruce had gone out of, and Damian looked between his siblings who all had disgusted looks on their faces. “What is happening?”

“Don’t ask, short-stack,” Jason muttered and stood up. “Who wants to kill me again?”

“Me,” Tim answered. “But kill me first though.”

“I am confused,” Damian said.

Cass rose from the table. “Nasty.”

“Agreed,” Duke groaned.

“Will someone explain what is happening?” Damian said.

Dick finally looked over and shouted, “OH, FOR GOD’S SAKES DAMIAN, THEY’RE GONNA HAVE SEX IN THE GARAGE!” Everyone immediately groaned and Damian’s expression pulled in disgust. “JUST GO! EVERYONE OUT OF THE KITCHEN! AWAY!”

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mochegato · 3 years

Text

Even the Losers

Chapter 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

“We have a problem,” Tim grumbled as he stumbled into the dining room. He threw the morning newspaper down on the table, letting it slide the last few feet until it stopped millimeters short of Bruce’s coffee.

Bruce sputtered his eggs and grabbed the paper, staring at the picture of him speaking with Marinette and Adrien that took up the entire front page above the fold. He threw the paper back on the table. “Son of a b…”

“We’ve been getting calls from PR all morning,” Tim interrupted him before Alfred got upset with Bruce for his language. “Because they’ve been getting calls from every newspaper, news station, blog, and interested citizen in the world, calling to ask them about it.”

Tim poured himself a large cup of coffee, larger than usual. He’d had patrol last night and gotten woken up at the crack of dawn this morning with calls about the story. So he was running on all of three hours of sleep and just wanted to crawl back into bed, but with this story, there was no chance of him getting to bed until after tonight’s patrol had already left.

It didn’t help that he was beating himself up for not picking up on the cues she was giving that night. He’d run into her. He and Stephanie had talked to her. He saw her freeze up when she realized who he was. He knew she was acting off, he just hadn’t thought it was nefarious. If anything, it seemed hurt, not scared. He should have caught onto her body language. He should have noticed how she seemed to freeze when he mentioned the family. She must have thought he was fishing, letting her know he was onto her and her plan to do this.

“You’d think after all the false alarms they’ve reported in the past that they’d know better by now. Not every black haired, blue eyed child is a Wayne. I’ve had PR draft up a statement that while we appreciate her support for the orphans, she is not, in fact, a Wayne,” he finished, taking a bite of his muffin, missing Bruce’s grimace.

Damian grabbed the paper, wrinkling it in his clenched fists as he scanned the text. “She must have orchestrated the whole thing to put this out. How else would they know these details?”

“No,” Dick commented thoughtfully, prying the paper away from Damian to take a look at the picture. “If she was in on it she would have put on a better act. Look at the image. She isn’t playing into it. She looks scared, not excited to ‘introduce her fiancé to her family’.” Dick quoted. He briefly scanned the paper for more information.

All the evidence appeared to be the picture, her physical features, and some call logs to her parent’s business. Dick scrunched up his face with concern. While not damning, it was interesting. He didn’t know any reason Bruce would have to contact a bakery in Paris. “Not to mention the story would have gone out yesterday for a bigger circulation boost. Sundays are the big press days. They wouldn’t have waited until Monday. That suggests they researched, or rather stole the information. And no quotes from her in here.”

“Fine,” Damian growled, acquiescing to his logic. “Maybe she did it after the fact. She saw the opportunity and took it.”

“No,” Bruce admitted quietly. “She wouldn’t have had to do that.” The room seemed to become still as everyone turned to face him. “If she wanted this story to go out she could have put it out at any time. And she would have played up the dance, would have sought me out at the gala. But she didn’t.”

“What dance?” Duke asked cautiously, his focus entirely on Bruce now.

“I asked her to dance. She said no. Ran away as quickly as she could actually,” Bruce chuckled self-deprecatingly as he stared at the paper in Dick’s hands.

Damian blinked at him as though the longer he stared the clearer what was happening would become. But no matter how hard he stared, the image didn’t become clearer. If anything, things became hazier. “This could all be a clever ruse. She wants to appear innocent so when you confront her she can point out that she didn’t do those things. It says she’s an aspiring designer. This could all be for publicity.”

“She wouldn’t have to go through all that,” Bruce stated again, more finality in his voice. He finally looked up, but still didn’t make eye contact with any of them.

Dick stared at Bruce, taking in his response, letting the words and their broader meaning sink in. The words he wasn’t saying hung in the room like thick smoke, winding their way into everything they touched, stealing the air out of the room. “What are you saying Bruce?” Dick asked cautiously

“The story’s true, isn’t it,” Tim observed. It was a statement more than a question.

Bruce nodded with a sigh. “Except for the meeting her fiancé part.”

Tim knew it was true even before Bruce’s verbal acknowledgement. The pieces suddenly fit together. It was the only thing that made sense. That’s why her reactions were off. That matched. He saw her face when they told her the gala was to celebrate family. He saw her body language change sharply when Stephanie joked about Bruce taking in everyone he saw. He wasn’t sure what to make of it at the time and didn’t really even try because it didn’t seem relevant and they had more important issues to think about, namely celebrating Duke. After the story, he thought the reactions were a tell. But now… now that he knew, they were a tell, but for something else entirely.

She was trying to be polite about it, not letting on how hard it was hitting. And oh God, didn’t that make it worse. Everything they said had been cordial, joking at Bruce’s expense, at their own expense. But with the new knowledge… it was at hers. They weren’t jokes, they were digs. They were attacks. They were him putting her ‘in her place’; out of the family. Tim took in a shuttering breath and collapsed on the couch, his head in his hands.

He would have so much to apologize for. He would have to find her and make sure she knew he didn’t mean his words the way they must have come across. He knew how it felt to not be accepted. He knew how it felt to not feel loved by your parents. He knew how it felt to have your place in the family questioned constantly, to be attacked, to be unwelcome. He wouldn’t wish that on enemies, let alone family.

“Who is she, Father?” Damian demanded.

Bruce met his eyes, guilt swimming in his own. “She’s your half-sister. Her mother and step-father have been raising her in Paris,” Bruce answered calmly.

Damian fought the gasp his lungs demanded against his will. His father was confirming it. He was acknowledging her. But never trusted them with the information. “Were you ever going to tell us?” Damian finally asked with forced coolness

“I was letting the dust settle on introducing Duke before I broached it,” Bruce hedged.

“So you just found out,” Damian asked angrily. That would make sense. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them, him. It was that he didn’t know until recently. Of course that was what happened.

“No.”

Damian gaped at him, his hastily built protective construct shattering with one word. “How long have you known?”

“Since she was born.” Damian gaped at him. He’d known. He’d known since before Damian came to live with them and still never told them. He didn’t trust him. Even after all he’d done, he still didn’t trust him. And now he was letting this unknown, this daughter, even just thinking the word made him wrinkle his nose in disgust, do whatever she wanted. He trusted her but not him.

“You have a daughter, a biological daughter you’ve known about for decades and that you never told us about,” Dick asked again in a daze. He fell into a chair staring at Bruce incredulously. There was no way. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He loved kids. He loved his kids. Why would he send one away? He hadn’t even wanted to do that to Jason.

“So I wasn’t the only one who didn’t know?” Duke asked. He looked around, taking in the stunned, disbelieving, hurt expressions.

“Not just you,” Damian gritted out.

Duke sucked in a breath and pulled out his phone, texting Jason and Cass to let them know what was happening. They were going to want to know as soon as possible too. All of them were going to have questions and issues with this information. And if the conversation went on much longer, they may want to be involved.

“Why was she there last night? What did she want? Surely she wouldn’t have come without a plan,” Damian pressed. Nobody had access to the kind of power and money they had and just walked away. If she was presenting herself and not to them, to the press, there must be a reason, a plot. They needed to find out more about her to figure it out. “How did she get a ticket in the first place?” That might be a place to start. It would give an insight into her accomplices and they could be pressed later for more information.

Bruce sighed and looked back down at his food, pushing the plate away, no longer hungry in the slightest. “I can’t answer how she got her ticket. As to why she was there, she was there to talk about a position for a friend of hers… with Lucius apparently, not me.”

“She was using her name to get her subpar friend a job,” Damian spat in disgust. There had to be more though. With their name, she could get much, much more. This had to be an opening gambit. The job must be placing an operative, loyal to her, within their institution. Next was the stunt with the press. They needed to figure out her next steps.

“No,” Bruce insisted. “She didn’t mention her association. He doesn’t know… well, he does now. He spoke to me after the gala, said he discovered one of our managers is stealing ideas and there was someone he was going to spend the weekend researching but he was excited about hiring him. Luthor is trying to hire him, so if we don’t act fast we’ll lose him. I’m betting that was her friend.”

“You don’t know that,” Damian growled out. “That could be a coincidence.”

“I’ll confirm with Lucius today, but it fits with what I know,” Bruce insisted calmly. “From what her mother has told me over the years, it’s the kind of thing she would do; go well out of her way to help a friend. And her mother let me know she was planning on attending the gala to talk about hiring her friend. I just thought she was going to talk to me.”

“Why didn’t you tell us,” Dick asked breathlessly. He was staring at Bruce with hurt saturating his eyes. He heard nothing after Bruce admitting he’d known about her and never told them. He was aware Bruce had been saying things for the last few minutes but none of it had registered. None of it was what he needed to know.

Bruce sighed and ran his hand over his face. “Nobody knew. Nobody but me and her mother and step-father. It was easier that way.” Easier to pretend was left unsaid. Easier for Bruce to pretend like he hadn’t cut her out of his life, like he didn’t regret it every day. Easier for Bruce to try to forget.

“Not even her?” Duke asked.

“Not even her,” Bruce confirmed with a sigh. He ran his hand over his face.

“Why?” Dick was staring at him in wide eyed confusion. It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense. He’d been with Bruce for twenty years and never heard a whisper of a biological daughter. But she existed. And he knew. Bruce took a deep breath and Dick scowled. “I swear to God, B, if you say some dumbass excuse like to protect her…”

“She has a happy life. Her mother and step-father love her beyond words. They support her, love her, encourage her. They’re there for her whenever she needs it. They never miss an event. Family dinners every night. She has friends… a good life. She’s safe. She never had to worry about defending herself. She never had to be taught what to do when she got kidnapped. Never had to… doesn’t remember seeing the people around her dead from the latest rogue attack. Not like what she would have here…” he again left the last part of the sentence off. The “with me” was left for everyone to fill in on their own.

“You’re a good father,” Tim assured him weakly, because at this point, with this information…

“I hope so.” Bruce gave him a weak smile. “But when she was born… I had an obligation. I had a responsibility.”

“She was your responsibility!” Dick yelled, his face suddenly contorting in anger and frustration with Bruce.

Bruce looked away stoically, face suddenly a mask devoid of emotion. “She had a better option and I made sure she got it.”

The room was silent for a few moments while his words settled in. The only sound was Dick seething in his seat. “But she doesn’t know you? You never visited. You never interacted with her. Even not telling her who you were to her,” Tim clarified.

Bruce shook his head. “I visited her final project for her degree a few weeks ago under the guise of research for the fabric project. She’s a designer. I was hoping to get her in on the fabric project. I thought it would be a good cover to get her comfortable with the family. But I didn’t talk with her while I was there.” He chuckled slightly at the memory. “I couldn’t even get close. There were too many people talking to her, congratulating her, offering her internships. Her work was beautiful.”

“But you’ve talked with her parents,” Tim checked.

He sighed and waved his hand helplessly. “I spoke with Sabine every so often to check on Marinette, make sure she was okay. I helped pay for her schooling, but even that was disguised as an investment into her parents’ company.”

“So her parents were having you pay for their company, holding the secret over your head,” Damian spat out.

“No!” Bruce growled. He knew Damian was having a hard time with this. Hell, that’s one of the main reasons he waited so long, because he knew Damian wouldn’t react well. Damian would have taken it as an attack on his position in the family. And after the way he treated Tim and Dick when he first found out about them… They could protect themselves against his attacks. She wouldn’t have been able to. He didn’t know how far Damian would actually go and he didn’t want Damian to have to find out either. He had been waiting until Damian was more settled, more secure in the family and their unconditional love for him before he reached out to her. But he wasn’t going to let him disparage Sabine and Tom. They’d been nothing but understanding.

“They only let me put in the amount for tuition. They wouldn’t allow me to give any more than that and Marinette got a scholarship for her university so she didn’t need any assistance. I tried to keep giving them money for her to at least have spending money but they refused. They stopped accepting the transfers. They only relented when I said it would look suspicious. So they’ve been creating a trust for her with it.”

Damian grumbled and looked away. Whatever their game was, they were certainly good at it.

Bruce dropped his head into his hands. “Nobody was supposed to know about her until I was sure it was safe,” Bruce grumbled into his hands. “Until I’d had a chance to talk to everyone about it.”

“Well now everyone knows, so maybe now is a good time to start trying to make that connection,” Dick growled.

“If she’ll let us,” Tim added. He remembered the look in her eyes when he talked about his… their family.

“It’s never too late to start trying to bond,” Dick insisted. His eyes were bordering on wild. They could bring this back, right? The family had come back from worse. They’d faced steeper hills. Hell, Damian tried to kill them when he first came. Jason had also tried to kill them all more than once when he came back. She couldn’t be that bad. They just had to make the first move. “We just have to let her know we want to.”

Tim shook his head and looked down, not at all convinced it really was as easy as that. Tim was awkward on a good day. He could make friends but usually they made the first move. He was pretty certain she wouldn’t make the first move in this instance. Damian wouldn’t accept her, period. Dick would crowd her. Jason would… whatever Jason did, probably disappear. She wasn’t a Robin so he probably wouldn’t try to kill her. Cass would try, but her success depended on Marinette understanding what Cass wasn’t saying. And Bruce… Bruce was never good at understanding emotions or sympathizing. Honestly, their best hope was Duke.

Duke breathed out a deep sigh and looked away. This family was not easy to get along with or find your place with. And bonding with each other? He managed because he fought next to them. They bonded in the field, in their suits. He wasn’t sure if they realized that about themselves. If they interacted outside the suits it was because of the bond they formed inside them. She wouldn’t have that opportunity and without it… The prognosis was not good.

“What are you going to do, B?” Tim asked tentatively. “Because whatever your plans were, now she knows and she’s dealing with it on her own. She… You need to talk to her.”

Bruce sucked in a breath and massaged his temples. “I know.”

“And you need to apologize,” Dick added firmly.

Bruce nodded. “I know.”

“No, you don’t,” Dick growled. “You have no idea what has to be going through her head right now.” He grabbed his bag and stalked out of the manor, slamming the door as he left.

“And you need to decide what we’re going to tell the public,” Tim added. “We need to put a statement out soon.”

“I know,” Bruce agreed. His voice this time was more detached. That was something he would have to decide, but that wasn’t the priority right now and not something he wanted to do without her input.

He needed to come up with a new plan and quickly. This was nothing like the one he had come up with. He was supposed to have more time. He was supposed to be able to ease into this. He was supposed to be able to feel things out before deciding a path. He was supposed to control the environment and how his family found out.

But now he was thrown into it, they all were, and he had no idea how to proceed. He didn’t know her well enough to anticipate how she would react to the situation or to him. He didn’t know her well enough yet to know the best way to approach her. He needed to come up with a game plan. He sighed heavily. He had to get into the office, not show anything out of the ordinary. And once he was behind his office door, he could talk to Sabine. She would know what to do.

Chapter 5

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @iloontjeboontje @wolf-for-life @maribatserver

#maribat #bio!dad bruce #bio dad bruce wayne #roynette #Even the Losers #mbdbwm2021 #prompt - bonding

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danny-chase · 3 years

Text

Batfam Cooking Headcanons

Dick:

Look, the guy does live in Blüdhaven all by himself, so realistically I think he's exactly like me

That is, he learns how to make like 5 different meals and stops there

Learning more is just... time consuming

And this makes nutrition easier to keep track of

(That last one is a lie, he compensates with vitamins, protein drinks, and energy bars)

Tim:

Literally lives off frozen meals and mack and cheese

Making pasta from the box and warming up sauce and meatballs is his idea of a fancy night

Also supplements with vitamins, protein drinks, and shakes

He drinks those meal replacement drinks too

In terms of actual cooking ability, he's fine with supervision

(he accidentally microwaved plastic and now no one trusts him - in his defense it was 3am)

Cass:

Cooking + Cass = no

She has 0 interest in cooking

Could she learn? Probably

Does she want to? No

Alfred and Barbara do meal planning for her and just label the containers with dates, times, and microwave instructions

Damian:

Has cooked an extremely limited number of times

Was inordinately proud of himself for making box brownies all by himself

He did however leave a massive mess in his wake because he had no idea where anything was

The brownies came out fine though

This put him in the requires supervision category as well

He will begrudgingly help Dick make brownies if he pretends he doesn't know how

Damian: Grayson, we did this two weeks ago, surely you have mastered this by now

Dick: pleaaase it's hard i don't know how to crack an egg

Damian still hasn't put together that Dick is in fact capable of making brownies

Duke:

He knows the basics of cooking and can follow a recipe to the letter

Where he gets in trouble is the experimentation part

Duke: but what if I put jello on top hmmmm

When he breaks from the recipe it's either perfection or absolute trash

He just finds recipes boring

And if things turn out bad, Tim is a garbage disposal when it comes to food, so he just blends it and passes it over

Alfred ensures he gets the proper nutrition

Barbara and Jason:

Both can cook and actually try to vary their diet

They both scream at the others for being disasters on a monthly basis in the group chat

#dc comics #batfam #batman #dick grayson #batfamily #tim drake #robin #jason todd #cassandra cain #barbara gordon #sorry steph i forgot about you #waffle girl my beloved #real quick she's pretty average at cooking and doesn't understand the hype #so she helps her mom when needed #but otherwise avoids the kitchen #damian wayne #the tags are a mess #whoops #duke thomas

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themaribatpit · 3 years

Text

Jasonette July Day 7: Guns

Written by: The Maribat Pit @jasonette-july-event Prompt: Guns Rated: T Everyone was returning to the Batcave after a satisfying night on patrol. Steph had been at Barbara’s side for 30 minutes now, having just come back from her turn on patrol. Dick and Tim had just arrived, they had just cracked the case on a string of robberies that had taken place. Dick and Barbara were hoping this meant that Tim would get a decent amount of sleep for the first time in over a week. Jason and Marinette arrived moments later, Jason felt the need to do an Akira-style handbrake turn as his motorcycle came to a stop, sending a plume of dust towards the others. “Show off” Tim grumbled, Dick rolled his eyes knowing full well he was the one who taught him how to do it. Marinette hopped off the back of the motorcycle, wearing her red polka dotted hoodie and cloth domino mask. It didn’t have the same abilities as the real Ladybug suit, but it kept her warm and hid her civilian identity. Jason steps off his bike and takes off his helmet, revealing a large smirk on his face. “You’re just jealous you failed your driver’s test, Replacement.” The nearby elevator dings, its doors open to reveal Alfred with a trolley of food. “Master Todd, if you could please refrain from drifting in the Batcave. You're not the one who has to sweep the floors.” Jason sheepishly scratches the back of his head, “Sorry Alfred.”

Alfred pushes the trolley to a nearby table, “Breakfast today is eggs, bacon, pancakes, hash browns...and yes, a hot bowl of chocolate milk” he gave Marinette a pointed look as he said this.

Everyone begins to gather around the table, mouths watering and eager for Alfred’s cooking.

As they began to eat, the conversation of guns somehow began, seeing as Bruce and Damian were still on patrol. “You know, for all the crap you guys give me about being trigger happy, I think all of us have at least touched a gun at some point.” Jason said, “I mean Dick has when he went undercover that one time.” “Still mostly used the escrima sticks though.” Dick piped up. “Barbie was raised by a police commissioner”, Jason pointed out, “ and Steph?” Just when Jason thought Stephanie might be the exception to his theory, she explained “remember that time I went undercover in a boarding school?” They vaguely remembered that time, but Stephanie didn’t really tell them much beyond encountering Professor Pyg on that mission. “The girls were being trained with handguns, to ‘aim where it hurts the most’.” she explained, everyone else winced as the meaning of her words set in. Jason turns his attention to Marinette ”so Pixie, have you ever used a gun before?” Marinette answers after taking a sip of her hot chocolate. “Only once.” she says quietly.

Jason bellows a laugh and slams his hand on the table, “Now I gotta hear this.” Everyone around the table turns to Marinette with curiosity as to how she got the chance to handle a gun in Paris. Marinette begins describing her encounter with Malediktator. “To keep it brief, the Mayor was puppeted by the supervillain Hawk Moth. Not only that, Chat Noir was also hypnotised. I called for my lucky charm and I got a rocket launcher.”

Eyes widened around the table with surprise, everyone had seen Ladybug conjure polka-dotted household items. Never an actual weapon. “What happened next?” asked Barbara.

Marinette began scratching her cheek sheepishly, “well I ripped off the laser pointer and threw the rocket launcher away.”

Jason immediately slumped, as if all the excitement and energy had been sucked away.

This drew everyone’s attention, “Jason looks like he’s in actual physical pain.” Tim whispered to Dick.

“I think those are actual tears in his eyes” Dick whispered back.

Jason trembled as he spoke, “what did you do with the laser sight?” he asked.

Marinette continued sipping her hot chocolate, “Well I used the laser pointer to distract Chat Noir.”

At this point Jason stands straight up, knocking over the chair he was sitting on. “You could've just used the laser pointer with the rocket launcher attached, why did you throw it away?” shouted Jason.

Marinette shrugs, “It was heavy, didn’t need it.” Jason felt as if Marinette just betrayed him. “Didn’t need it?” he sobs.

Marinette gives Jason an annoyed look, “I had a plan Jay, and it wasn’t ‘Let’s shoot the Mayor’. I needed to distract Chat Noir and have him knock over the guards, so that Queen Bee could get a clear shot.” she explained. “Plus, I was around 13! It was a well thought out plan. ”

Jason shot back “A convoluted plan, why can’t you use your lucky charm in a straightforward way like I did?”

At this Marinette stood up, pushing the chair back “And beat people up with a purse?” She yelled.

“Yes!” Cried Jason.

As the two began shouting at each other, the others were watching Marinette and Jason argue with growing discomfort.

Barbara begins to slowly wheel herself away from the table, while Stephanie puts on her headphones.

Dick whispers to Tim, “Should we leave these two to have their lover’s spat?”

Tim leans towards Dick and whispers back. “Nah, I want to see how it goes. Who knows? Maybe we’ll see them argue on which way to put toilet paper, or how to squeeze toothpaste.”

#jasonette #jasonettejuly2021 #maribat

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fridayfirefly · 3 years

Text

Virtual Sleepover

Read Virtual Sleepover on AO3

Masterlist

Written for Maribat March Day 4 - Internet Friends

Quarantine had been rough at Wayne Manor, but for Tim Drake, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was a bright light through it all. Tim was getting ahead of himself, though. The story of Marinette Dupain-Cheng started on March 20th, 2020. Panic over coronavirus was sweeping the nation. Bruce had gathered all of the members of the Wayne family into the dining room to explain the new rules of the house. No one was to go in or out. Groceries would be delivered to the house. There would be no superhero outings for at least two weeks. Tim didn't think his family would be able to survive, trapped in a house together.

So to preserve his sanity, Tim turned to the internet. There were hundreds of cold cases that he had put on the backburner and hundreds of forums and websites dedicated to solving cold cases. Tim turned to the most popular website and started dumping information, hoping for someone to show up and work through it with him. That's how Tim met Marinette. @MarinetteDC showed up on his page with a friend request, a wide range of technical knowledge about textiles and designs, and about seven different theories on a murder case Tim considered all but unsolvable. Her sleep schedule was just as chaotic as Tim's and she also drank a near-inhuman amount of coffee. Marinette Dupain-Cheng enthralled Tim. And when the chaos of his house threatened to make Tim lose his mind, Marinette became his lifeline.

"Can you hear me?"

Tim nodded. "Yep!"

"Nice!" cheered Marinette. Tim relished the opportunity to see her face, even if it was through a zoom call. "So what do we want to do first? I don't have class until Monday, so we have the whole weekend ahead of us."

"I think we should start with the iconic sleepover classic: truth or dare," suggested Tim.

"Alright. Truth or dare, Tim?"

"Dare." Tim was confident in his abilities to pull off any stunt she might come up with. However, his confidence started to fade as he watched a devious look grow on her face.

"I dare you to bake a batch of cookies - any kind of cookies you want - without using a recipe."

Tim blinked, trying to recall the last time he had baked. Besides a few times helping Alfred out in the kitchen, Tim wasn't certain that he had ever used the Wayne Manor kitchen for anything other than brewing coffee and heating frozen pizzas. "Could I have a new dare?"

Marinette shook her head, the grin on her face demonstrating exactly how much fun she was having, watching the panic in Tim's eyes. "I'll give you one hint on how to make them, but only one, so use it wisely."

Tim groaned, unplugging his laptop from its charger so he could move it to the kitchen. "I'm not actually certain I know all of the ingredients in cookies. Or how long you bake them for. I feel like an hour is probably too long, but I feel like half an hour might not be enough time."

On the other side of the screen, Marinette tried to stifle her giggles but was unable to keep them all in. "No offense Tim, but this is going to be a disaster. I can't wait."

Tim let out another groan. "Must you torture me?"

"How about you keep the laptop camera pointed towards the oven, that way I can tell you once something starts to burn?" Marinette joked.

Tim knew that she was teasing, but honestly, he knew he could use all the help he could get. Still, he wanted to preserve at least a little of his dignity. "Very funny," Tim said sarcastically, setting the laptop down on the kitchen counter.

"Start with ingredients," Marinette advised.

"What all goes into a chocolate chip cookie..?" mused Tim. He got out the flour, white and brown sugar, eggs, butter, vanilla extract, and three different types of chocolate chips that Alfred kept stocked.

Marinette raised an eyebrow. "Is that all?"

Tim cast a wary gaze upon his ingredients. It didn't seem like enough, but at the same time he couldn't figure out what he was missing. Tim sighed. "I'm ready to use my hint. Tell me what I forgot."

"You forgot to get out the salt, and more importantly, the baking soda," advised Marinette.

"Can I have a second hint?" asked Tim as he gathered his two missing ingredients.

"That depends on what you're asking," teased Marinette.

"I'm going to start listing measurements, and you tell me if it's too much or not enough."

Marinette pretended to think it over before replying, "I'll do it, but only because I want the cookies to come out edible, not because we're friends or anything like that. There are no friends in the Dupain-Cheng kitchen," said Marinette, her voice filled with faux seriousness.

"Lucky for me, these cookies are being made in the Wayne kitchen, and we're all very nice here, and we don't let Tim burn his cookies."

Marinette giggled. "You have a point there," she acquiesced. "Start listing your measurements."

Tim grabbed the measuring cup and starting approximating. "Two cups flour?"

"That will make about five dozen cookies."

"One cup of each type of sugar?"

Marinette shook her head. "You'll want a 3/4 cup of each."

The rest of the measuring process proceeded smoothly, with Tim guessing measurements of fluctuating accuracy (he correctly guessed that he would need two eggs, but his guess of a half-cup of baking soda led to Marinette questioning whether he had ever been in a kitchen before). Once Tim got the cookie dough mixed, spooned out onto a tray, and put in the oven, they resumed their game of truth-or-dare.

"Your turn, Marinette. Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

Tim tried to think of a good question to ask. "Since you've now seen how abysmal I am in the kitchen, I want to know one thing that you're terrible at."

Marinette scrunched up her brow. "It's nowhere near as bad as you're inability to crack an egg-"

Tim winced a little, remembering the painstaking process of digging out fragments of eggshell after he completely shattered it in his attempts to crack it.

"-But I have really bad depth perception. I trip over every little crack in the sidewalk. I'm probably the clumsiest person you'll ever meet."

Tim chuckled. "And here I thought you were perfect."

Marinette grinned. "Almost perfect. Truth or dare?"

"I'll pick truth this time, and hopefully avoid being humiliated again."

"I'll go easy on you this round. When was the last time you lied, and what was it about?"

Tim combed back through his memory of the past week, trying to pick out the last time he lied. "I think it was yesterday morning. Dick asked me if the coffee I was drinking was my first coffee of the day. I said yes, but really I hadn't slept that night so I just decided to arbitrarily count my start of the day at the time I would have woken up had I actually gone to sleep."

"So how many coffee's had you had yesterday?"

Tim shrugged. "Since midnight? Probably three or four. I've gotten away with a lot more coffee since I modified the Keurig in my room to stop making so much noise."

"I'm lucky," said Marinette. "My parents sleep so far away from me that they can't hear my Keurig."

"Truth or dare?" asked Tim, continuing the game.

"Truth."

"What's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done because you had a crush on someone?"

Marinette flushed red, and Tim immediately knew that this was going to be a good story. "Once I accidentally sent a text to my crush so I stolehisphoneanddeletedthetext." Marinette rushed the last few words, so fast that Tim couldn't quite make them out.

"What was that?"

"I stole his phone and deleted the text before he could read it. In my defense, I made a lot of questionable decisions at that age."

Tim burst out laughing. "How old were you?"

"I was thirteen," admitted Marinette.

Tim couldn't stop laughing at the absurdity of her claims. "You couldn't have asked him to borrow his phone and deleted it then?"

"I was in panic mode. It was between steal his phone or destroy his phone."

"Those were your two options?!" exclaimed Tim.

Marinette blushed even more furiously. "It's your turn. Don't expect me to go easy on you this round. Truth or dare?"

Tim kept up the trend. "Truth."

"What was the worst thing you did at thirteen?"

Tim thought back to his days as Robin, and the many, many stories he could tell. In the end, he settled on one that Jason still brought up when he needed leverage over Tim. "It's not as bad as phone thievery, but it's still a pretty funny story, looking back on it. You know how I have two older brothers, right?"

"Dick and Jason," Marinette confirmed.

"Well, one night I managed to convince Dick to let me drive Bruce's favorite car. Now, keep in mind, I had never actually driven a car before. Surprisingly, I wasn't that bad at driving. I made it home without incident - that is, until I tried to park the car back in the garage and accidentally crashed into Jason's motorcycle. For years after that, Jason used the threat of telling Bruce about my little car crash to keep me in line."

Marinette snorted. "You think that borrowing a phone to delete a text message is worse than borrowing and crashing a car?"

Tim shrugged. "It's a matter of opinion. Truth or dare?"

With a roll of her eyes, Marinette said, "Truth."

"What's one thing you would never tell me?" It was the sort of question that could only be asked during a game of truth or dare. In Tim's opinion, it was this sort of question that made the game worth playing.

Marinette pouted. "I don't like that question."

"Too bad. The rules of truth or dare state that you have to answer it."

"Fine." Marinette looked up at the ceiling, deep in thought. Just as she turned back to face her laptop, her face lit up. It was evident that she had an answer. "Usually I let people learn from their mistakes in the kitchen. However, I will now tell you - because I have to - that your cookies have been in the oven for too long. They're going to start burning if you don't take them out soon."

Tim jumped up to get his cookies out of the oven. They looked a little burnt, brown rather than the golden-brown that Alfred would make, but they still looked edible. "I'll accept your answer, but only because you saved my cookies."

"Now that your cookies are done, do you want to finish up our game of truth or dare?"

"One last question," decided Tim. "And I'll pick truth, to make it easy for you."

"What's the biggest secret that you've currently keeping from your family?"

After Tim's last question, he had expected Marinette to follow it up with an invasive question. Luckily, her question had a very simple answer.

"Easy question - my friendship with you."

Marinette looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Most of my friendships begin through the connections they have to my family. Because of that, I've never really had serious friendships that my family wasn't actively involved in."

"It's not because you're ashamed of me, right?" Marinette sounded unsure of herself. Insecurity was a side of her that Tim had never seen before.

"Of course not," Tim assured her. "You're the best friend I could have ever asked for, Marinette."

"Good, because you're not getting rid of me that easy. I still have a lot to teach you about baking. I think we might try cupcakes at our next sleepover."

Tim laughed. "We'll see about that." He had no doubts that there would be sleepovers to come, and shenanigans involving baked goods to go along with them.

@maribatmarch-2k21

#maribat #MaribatMarch2021 #timari #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Tim Drake #miraculous ladybug fic #my work

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readingalldaysleepingallnight · 3 years

Text

Buzzfeed Unsolved AU - Batfam

The batboys start the account as a joke at Dick’s insistence (family bonding!). The first video was Tim rant about an old case that couldn’t be solved. Jason recorded it as a joke. Barbara is the one that needled him (“What’d you mean the girl just messed with the elevator? What’s the point in that?” “THATS THE THING NO ONE F**KING KNOWS BABS!”). Dick cracked jokes (“Wow, guess she ghosted the ghost.” “IT CANT BE A GHOST DICK, OKAY?!”). Duke stared into the camera (“Help me.”). Stephanie ate waffles in the background and nodded along. Overall, it was pure chaos. When Jason posted it it went viral almost immediately.

Cue Dick setting up an official YouTube account, editing the first video then posting it (Duke’s face is slowly zoomed in on with the audio “Why are we still here? Just to suffer?” while he mouths “help me”).

They go on, doing a bunch of other cases and even supernatural ones. Damian and Jason are the ones, oddly enough, that are scared of ghosts. (“YOU CANT PUCH THEM YOU IDIOT!” Jason screeches. Damian nods, “They can take control of your body, there is no defense. It’s unnatural.”) In most of the videos Duke can be seen looking dead inside or just frustrated (“Why can’t my family just be normal?”). Tim presents all the cases, Barbara is his co-host, and Dick and Stephanie are the (intentional) comedic relief. Jason, Damian and Duke become the unintentional comedic relief. Case just shows up out of nowhere to make random ass comments (“I don’t think it’s possible to die like that? Can someone even die from that?” Dick asks and turns to Stephanie. She just shrugs. Cass just comes out of nowhere, “It is.” Cue the screaming. “WHERE THE F**K DID YOU COME FROM?!” Jason screams. “Oh hey Cass! How’ve you been?” Stephanie asks with a casual grin. Cass just tilts her hands in a ‘so-so’ gesture. Duke asking how the frick Cass knows that with utter terror. She smirks and fades into the shadows. “See you later Cass!” Cass becomes a Cryptid and Stephanie is known as the Cryptid whisper.).

Eventually they make a comment on the “creepy ass noises” in the manor. The audience begs them to investigate their own house. They do, of course. They creep through the house at night, recording the whole thing. Bumping into Bruce that’s just being a tired dad (“Why are you all up at 2 in the morning?” Dick glances at the rest of his siblings as he pushes Barbara’s wheelchair, “Uh, Ghost hunting?” Bruce sighs, pinching his nose before saying, “Fine, don’t tell me. Just clean up after yourselves.” There are memes about Bruce within 24 hours.). Jason at one point makes a joke about the theories that Wayne Enterprises funds Batman (“Maybe he just lives in our basement.” Jason snickers. Stephanie adds on, with a spot on impression of Bruce, “Batman, I’m gonna need you to pay the rent.” Jason chimes in with his own Batman impression, “I can’t this month. I don’t have a real job. I fight for justice!” Stephanie, “Yeah well, justice doesn’t pay the bills.” Jason, “Aren’t you a billionaire?” Stephanie, “Yeah, and you’re a free loader. Even my kids have jobs and one of them is twelve!”)

People latch onto the joke and make memes about the whole thing. Eventually they use this opportunity to make it so there’s less connections between them and their alter egos. Especially since some conspiracy theorist are getting so close yet so far.

They get recordings of Dick doing a backflip before slipping and landing on his ass (on purpose, they didn’t want to actually make him hurt himself).

They get Duke to say he hates the color yellow (“Signal is yellow though!” -Stephanie “And?” “Isn’t he cool?” -Dick “I prefer Black Bat. They’re pretty badass.”).

They get Jason trying to shoot a moving target, he barely clips the side of it (“Red Hood would be disappointed in you.” -Damian “Yeah, well, Red Hood can go suck an egg.” People now have a new meme of Red Hood being disappointed in anyone that misses a shot. It’s said after people miss throwing trash in trash cans.).

Stephanie is asked if she’d fight crime. (“Dude, when would I eat my waffles though?” “You eat your waffles at 3am?” “Obviously, no one can question your life choices if they can’t see you making them.” They actually track her down at 3am and find her eating waffles. Spoiler and Black Bat were spotted that night around the same time. None of the boys know how the girls did it so they’re kinda scared now.)

Barbara just looks down at her wheelchair then rushes after the cameraman. Cue screeching and running away from her. (“Okay, I think we lost her.” The camera is in selfie mode and shows the boys hiding in a guest room with Barbara in the background grinning. The video ends there. They stop posting for a few days, making their audience panic before posting a video with various bruises. “Barbara told us to stop asking stupid questions.”)

They ask Cass and she just looks straight at the camera before looking really confused. (The video is then explaining to Cass that people think she might be Spoiler or Black Bat. Cass tilts her head before shrugging, “Cool.” The video ends with the Dick saying that Cass takes the theories as a compliment even though she’s just a very silent person and accidentally scares people around the house.)

Damian is asked and he just pulls out a knife. (“Where’d you get that knife from, you little sh*t?” Jason asks. Damian just frowns before replying, “It’s Gotham.” “Hate to say this but the kid’s got a point.”). “Leaked footage” shows Damian watching what little videos there is of Robin fighting with a katana and trying to copy the stances.

They later post a clip of them sneaking around at night where they see a tall shadowy figure lurking in their house. (“Batman?!” The figure turns around to show Bruce in a Batman bathrobe, complete with little pointed ears. He’s holding a cup of coffee and looks half asleep.)

#batfam #buzzfeed unsolved au #Crack fic

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queerbutstillhere · 4 years

Text

Operation Chick Liberation

"Oh my God. Dick, you're not gonna believe this."

Dick sighed and looked up from his phone. The news had been playing on mute on the tv while both he and Jason were busy doing other things and not really paying attention. But now Jason unmuted it, and Dick could hear the report. Did he believe it? No, not one bit, but he could definitely hear it.

"...Robin and Red Robin have been seen making off with boxes of chicks from a local pet store, more after the break."

.....

"Dick is going to kill us."

"Hush, Drake. This will be better for them."

"Why are we stealing chicks again, Damian?"

Robin looked up at his brother, the white lenses of his mask hiding the mischief in his eyes. His small smirk, however, gave him away all too quickly.

"Because if we don’t liberate them, who will?"

Tim snorted, then smiled as he shook his head. "You know what? Hell yeah, let's steal some chickens."

So, they executed their meticulously thought out plan. Sneaked in through a skylight, found the chick boxes, picked the lock to the cage and carefully packed up several of the boxes with as many chicks as Damian deemed appropriate.

Usually Tim didn't encourage petty theft, but Damian had come directly to him with a rather clever plan for chick liberation and Tim couldn't help but say yes. Partially because he just wanted to see how this went, and partially because the little puppy dog look that Damian had given him had been enough to make him crumple.

For as much as they fought, Tim still loves the little gremlin.

Getting the chicks back out was a lot harder than getting in had been. Damian was very adamant that they couldn't jostle the poor chicks in any way, so it was a very slow process of hugging a box of chicks with one arm while slowly grappling back up through the skylight. Slowly, they managed to get all the boxes up, replace the skylight, and then they began slowly transporting the boxes back to their bikes.

"I can't believe we just stole three dozen chicks."

"Believe it," Damian said with a little giggle, grinning brightly at Tim.

He looked happy, and that alone was worth it.

Carefully, they secured the chicks to the back of their bikes, and took off towards home. Part two of Damian's brilliant plan was to sneak the chicks onto the manor grounds. Tim wasn't exactly sure where Damian was planning to put them after they got the chicks home, but the manor certainly had enough property for a chicken pen. They just didn't have one, so he was curious what the plan here was.

They got home, and then the operation became, "Sneak The Chicks Past Bruce," which was not easy, due to their constant cheeping. They covered the boxes with their capes and very quickly darted from where they parked their bikes over to the lift. Tim heard Bruce call to them, asking what they had, but they didn't stop. Inside the lift, they looked at each other, serious for a moment, before breaking into laughter.

"Where the hell are we putting these?!"

"Well, I had considered Todd's room—" Damian started.

"Oh no..."

"—but I decided that would not be best for their own safety. I have created a pen for them in the BatBarn."

"Oh my God, you really thought this through?"

"Tt, I'm not a fool, Drake." He's still grinning, so Tim knew he was still in a good mood, but they ran into a problem when they got upstairs.

The “problem” being Dick and Jason.

They were waiting at the back door, arms crossed, looking like they were fighting smiles.

"What are you two doing?" Jason asked.

"Taking trash out," Tim volunteered, gesturing at the box.

Soft cheeping betrayed his lie immediately.

"And why didn't you change before coming up?" Dick asked, failing to hide his smile.

"We wanted to go back out later," was Damian's response.

More soft cheeping. Rattling in the boxes. A little beak peaked out of one of the air holes. All three of them looked at it. Tim and Damian slowly looked at each other, then up at Dick and Jason.

"I can't believe you guys stole chickens," Jason finally cracked, starting to laugh.

"We were saving them from an unfortunate life!" Damian protested, immediately looking distressed.

"Damian, you could have just bought them! You remember who your dad is, right?" Dick's also started laughing now.

He reaches out and opens the lid of Tim's box, still chuckling.

"They are pretty cute."

"Come on, let's get them outside before Alfred finds out."

Damian led the way proudly, carrying his boxes of chicks. They walked out to the barn, which, yes, they do call the BatBarn. Batcow greeted them from her pasture with a deep moo, and Damian called back to her in arabic, something soft and sweet.

Inside the barn, the second stall had in fact been converted to a chicken pen, complete with a heat lamp, water bowl, and feed trough filled with chick feed. It was clear how much time Damian spent at the Kents’. Tim and Damian knelt down in the sawdust and carefully removed the chicks from their boxes, setting them in the soft, fluffy shavings. They ran around, cheeping in confusion for a bit, investigating everything, and eating the shavings.

Damian sat down against the wall. He pulled off his mask and gloves then reached out, picking up a soft, fluffy little brown mottled ball. Tim couldn't help but grin at his little brother. The kid looked so happy, surrounded by all these fluffy, mixed breed chicks. The only type of chicks the two of them liked-

Tim glanced up to find that Dick and Jason had disappeared. He shrugged and moved over, sitting next to Damian after shooing some chicks out of the way. He picked one up and gently cupped it in his hands.

"They are pretty cute."

Damian hummed, glancing up at him.

"Do you think Alfred will let them stay?"

"As long as you let him use their eggs, probably."

Damian tilted his head, thinking.

"I think an arrangement can be made," he hummed, then focused back on the chicks.

They stayed out there for a long time. When the chicks finally started getting too annoyed with them, Damian stood and started fiddling with the heat lamp.

"Come along, Drake. We should let them sleep," he said, turning to Tim.

"Yes, of course."

Tim stood and dusted himself off before following Damian out. They walked up to the house in silence. It wasn't until they had reached the back door that Damian spoke.

"Timothy?"

"Yeah, Damian?"

"Thank you."

"Any time, squirt."

"Tt."

Tim stood by the door, watching Damian walk towards the office that would lead him into the batcave. And he just grinned to himself. Today he stole chickens, and bonded with his little brother.

It was a good day.

For @absolute-0zero !!!! Brothers bonding over chickens! Thank you to @wisdom-walks-alone and @battoad for betaing this cute thing for me! Find it here on ao3!

#batfam #writing prompts #tim drake #damian wayne #batbros #writing requests #queerbutstillhere writes #queerbutstillhere #absolute-0zero #tumblr family

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watchtower-feed · 4 years

Text

BatDragon

Batfamily ✧ 1 ✧

The fight had run long and everyone is exhausted. While Bruce is away on a top-secret intergalactic League mission, all of his wards decided to work as a team to take down Black Mask and his men. Only because it’s been a particularly unusual job, unusual even for Gotham. Black Mask had outsourced manpower from Bane himself to protect his precious cargo, a single chest the size of a serving platter. It was enough for all of them to be cautious and actually work together.

The Red Hood is making sure every single hired muscle is tied up and unconscious. “Damn. Black Mask sure gave us a fight for this one.” He rubs his gloved hands together while he walks toward the chest. “Makes you wonder what’s inside.”

Nightwing, Robin, Red Robin, Spoiler, Orphan, and the Signal have been circling the cargo as well. Scanning it. Observing it. It’s not made out of gold or silver, just a metal chest with a few dents on it from being roughly handled and eventually dropped during the fight.

Finally, cautiously, Robin and Red Robin squat down beside it to examine the locks. It’s nothing advanced. In fact, they were just multiple bulky old-fashioned locks. Quietly, the two of them worked together on opening it.

The tension and anticipation are so thick in the air until Spoiler couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “What is it?” She asked as soon as Robin’s gloved hands are holding the lid and lifting it slowly.

Red Robin is the first to see a glinting sheen. “Some kind of precious stone?” he remarks. When Robin has the lid all the way down, all of them could see the thing that’s inside. “Not a stone--”

“An egg,” Robin finishes.

“Ohmygod,” Nightwing interrupts, “Are we doing Eragon--”

His mouth hangs open. All of their eyes are glued to the egg in front of them as it rocked in its place and then the sound of a tiny crack echoed inside the harbor warehouse and made their hearts stop. They watch the small intermittent ruptures extend until it finally formed a jagged piece. A piece that’s pushed out by you.

“It hatched.”

Your small black claws grip the edge of the egg as you slowly peak over the opening. There are seven gigantic figures crouching down and looking at you closely. They blink. So you blink.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Who did she look at first?” Jason’s chest rumbles when he speaks and you find the vibration soothing. “Because she’s definitely imprinting on me right now.”

Tim rolls his eyes as Jason secures you more firmly in his arms and against his chest. You nuzzle the tip of your mouth against the soft thin fabric of his undershirt. “After hatching from the egg she needs to be incubated. It only makes sense that she’d latch onto you ‘cause you’re the one with the strongest body heat here.”

Your soft claws dig into Jason’s bear arms after hearing Tim’s voice, another soothing sensation to your newfound senses.

Suddenly, a golden curtain sneaks up on your vision and you’re met with another one of your giants. “I have body heat, too,” she whines. Then, with a gentler voice she speaks to you, “Hey, little you. Wanna come to mama? I bet I’m a lot softer than this rugged old man.”

Jason tries to tuck you away from her but you’re already crawling towards Steph. She snorts in victory as you settle on her chest. Her bare skin is a lot gentler on your soft scales.

Two other heads lower down to look at you and you welcome them both by flicking out your tongue and touching the tips of their noses. Cass laughs at the wetness while Dick pouts.

“How come she’s not acting like the dragon from the movie?” He reaches for your featherless wings, “She hasn’t even opened them once--” and tries to pull on them, causing you to hiss in fear.

He quickly retracts his arm and spouts rushed apologies. From the few hours they’ve known you, they at least know that you do not like your limbs being pulled.

Damian walks in with a scowl on his face while nursing his bandaged hand. “What did you do?” he accuses Dick right away.

“He tried to pull on her wings,” Duke spits out right away. Everyone shifts their glares at him because he still hasn’t gotten rid of his instinct to tattle, a habit that’s gravely unwelcome among Batman’s wards.

“Tsk.” Damian walks up to Steph to examine you closely, making sure you’re unhurt. He’s also close enough for you to lick his nose. Your smallest giant. The giant who helped you climb out of your egg and onto his harm.

Damian was so curious at your mysterious physique that he couldn’t help running his fingers along your trunk and then pulling on the spiked ball that was the tip of your tail. So you bit him.

Everyone shouted and Duke swatted you away making you fall on the ground. Scared and helpless. But it was Damian who extended his other hand again and picked you up to take you home.

You’ve been staring at him long enough that Steph gently hands you to him. Damian carries you with both of his hands. You may only be a little longer than his forearm, but you easily extend beyond his embrace.

“I’m taking her with me to Nanda Parbat.”

Angry gasps fill the room and you watch tensely as your bigger giants quickly surround him.

“What?”

“Give her back,” Steph’s the only one who stomps toward Damian.

Damian doesn’t step back. “The manor is no place to raise a dragon.”

“But it’s enough for a demon,” Jason quips, “and we’ve survived.”

“The League of Assassins is centuries old. My family is the greatest source we have to find out more about her species.”

“Good lord.”

Everyone turns and freezes the moment they see Alfred in his robe and nightdress. His hands are shaking while he ties his robe around his waist and stares wide-eyed at you. You blink at the new older giant who’s standing underneath the doorway. He doesn’t blink back.

“Alfred, we can explain--”

“You brought home a baby dragon…”

Finally, once the absurdity of it all has been voiced out, Bruce’s wards can finally feel the gravity of this single night.

✧ ✧ ✧

Batman is too far out in another galaxy to be reached and his wards didn’t want the League to know about you. In their eyes, your giants are still children and they would take you away from them.

Instead, another family member was called.

When Ra’s Al Ghul makes it to the manor’s front door alongside his daughter, he stops. They turn to each other and wonder if they should just break-in. But they didn’t come here to intrude. Damian had invited them over and so they knock and wait.

There’s nothing more surreal than the Al Ghul’s having tea with Alfred and Bruce’s wards, everyone out of their costumes and combat gear. Well almost everyone.

“Why aren’t you guys in costume? That’s Ra’s Al Ghul,” the Signal whispers behind his cup of tea.

“‘Cause he’s Ra’s Al Ghul,” Tim answers. “If anyone knows who we are, he would.”

Jason leans in and gives the Signal his own two-cents, “Plus, they came to the manor and not the cave. That should’ve been your heads up.”

Frustrated, he takes off his mask and sinks into his chair, letting the previous silence continue to grow in the Wayne sitting room.

Then Dick breaks it, “So Damian told you and you came here, huh?”

Talia smiles while her father continues to drink his tea with his eyes shut. “Wouldn’t you?” she teases, “I’m sure even beloved himself would come down from his perch if you had told him there’s a dragon in the manor.” Talia watches in amusement as Bruce’s wards swallow. She turns to Jason for confirmation. After having been raised by Talia after his resurrection, he knew he couldn’t lie to her so he looks away. “So you truly haven’t told him.”

Finally, Damian walks back into the room with Steph who’s been holding you gently against her chest while you slept. When you pick up the new scents in the room, you immediately wake up and turn to them.

To everyone’s surprise, Ra’s Al Ghul quickly stands. He stares at you. And very slowly he walks forward to meet you. He gazes down. Old ancient eyes study you deeply while you stare at him and blink.

Of course, a living breathing dragon would be something the League is interested in-- something he’s interested in. After centuries on this Earth, he has never seen one and has at least once wondered if they truly exist. But today his grandson offers him that experience.

Only to be disappointed.

“This is nothing but a lizard.”

✧ 1 ✧

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

#batfamily #batfamily x reader #batfam #batfam x reader #YN #I watched Eragon and I was disappointed #The only drug im on is procrastination thats why I came with this crack imagine #But Im also surprised no one has written YN as a different species all up #welp now i have to commit to this series #DC x reader #dc reader insert #DC imagines #batfamily imagines #batfam imagines #watchtower #watchtower-feed #atbucud

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mysticprofessoralienhumanoid · 4 years

Text

Maribat ideas I will probably never write

Now, before we start.

I realize that those may have already been made but I've never seen them and everything here came from my mind. But if you remember the titles, please tell me them or send a link to the stories, I'd love to read them.

This can be whatever ship you want Connorette, Daminette, Cassandra x Marinette, Brucinette... Any ship.

Here I'll refer to them just as the bats or one of the bats, or just choose a random one of them simply because I don't know the exact person that'd fit in the au with Marinette so I'm just leaving it up to you but... yeah.

[And yes, I know I said it could be Connor or Jon or anyone else, and I know they are not part of Batclan but for the lack of better word, just roll with it]

Yes, you can use any of them, but please tag me (i really want to read what you came up with) and include the link to my post so maybe someone else could use any other of these.

And if want to add anything or just brainstorm in the comments I'd love to do it with you, so don't be shy and say what you think (constructive critism only).

Maybe i will update this, but for now feel free to use any of these over 20 (i think at least) ideas I came with in these past 2 weeks cuz i was bored.

And before you start, I'm thinking of making mafia boss! Marinette AU, but i don't know what ship it should be... Suggestions? (Just not the love square please)

Hope you like it.

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

Violinist Marinette. The Waynes got invited to a concert in which Mari played a solo. And they're all just enchanted with her talent.

Marinette a Badass Dancer. None of the bats is a dancer in this AU and I don't really have any direction where this would go, but i just had a scene where she kicks their asses even though she doesn't have much (or any) exprience in martial arts. Just her spinning and kicking one of them mid-spin in the face or... somewhere else...

So the scene is a Wayne Gala, right? Jagged Stone dares Marinette to sing a song on a stage (there’s live music band, i guess?). Everyone’s mesmerised by her voice and Jagged can be heard screaming “That’s my niece!” in the backround. I really want her to sing Creep , a cover by Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Jukebox ft. Haley Reinhart or Crazy in Love , also a cover made by Sofia Karlberg, though any other song is fine too

Bats and Marinette in a band. That's it. That's the whole AU.

One of the bats is sitting under a tree, all peacefully and relaxed, but then they look up to see a random girl with dark blue hair (??) just hanging upside down from a branch like an actual freaking bat. She gives them a heart attack.

Another Au with singing Marinette lol. In this one Marinette likes to sing in a park every other day and Damian comes here one day and hears her and is like “wow.”, and since then he comes there everyday in hopes of hearing her sing and getting her number. And maybe Luka or Adrien play while she sings, that’d be cool

Guys, Marinette and the Waynes being neighbours. No, but imagine. Them seeing some girl watering plants every week for a month or two and then not seeing her for a long period of time, and they're kinda worried, but then she's back and they're confused, because where the hell she'd been, the house looked like not used and just where the hell was she? Marinette seeing some... Weird things happening in the Wayne backyard. Balconies being in front of each other, so they're balcony neighbours too (the romance, the fluff, even the angst, guys). Marinette going to them with baked goods and introducing herself as their neighbour. Them going to hers and welcoming her with a basket of Alfred's cooking.

Jason has to participate in a dating show because he lost a bet and Mari's one of the participants too...

Duke needs a date to a wedding (i don't know whose, your choice) and Marinette's his best friend, so be my fake date to this wedding?

Marinette as Tim's daughter??

The greatest showman AU. (Sibling dickinette. On the trapeze-)

Forget rouges, superheroes and vigilantes. Underground dancers. Because it's what i need, y'all

So in this, WE is a dance company, and Marinette's maybe an intern in a fashion department. One day Dick's going to one of the practice rooms where's been scheduled a meeting with a designer for his costume for the next show. Instead he's met with a girl he sees for the first time, practically flying on the dance floor. Just as he's about to reveal himself the rest comes and it turns out this is the fashion designer and it seems as no one knows she's an amazing dancer too

Teachers AU + Rivals AU = utter chaos. Them teaching the same subject and competing for their class' loves and/or arguing whose close is better. [Bonus points if everyone's thinking they hate each others guts, but they're secretly dating]

Fencers AU - on the same team on different teams, your choice. (And this honestly suits with Kagami too. I'm up for kagami x bat/marinette)

Damian in the park with Mar'i, but he's having trouble, because this kid has so much energy. How?? Just when he thinks he can take a breath, he notices Mar'i has wandered off and is talking to a young woman, so he rushes there and try to apologize, but she says it's no problem at all. Suddenly this gorgeous girl offers him her help. It looks like Mar'i has taken liking to her and he's so tired, so he agrees and for the rest day watches two Mari's play together and falls in love with the older one. Plotwist: this was plan all along. Mar'i is the ultimate wingwoman.

All the Wayne siblings decided to go to one of those haunted houses for a halloween and there's this petite girl who tagged along their group somehow. They didn't expect to see this tiny girl punching the worker dressed as a monster and knocking the daylight out of him. But it was so worth getting kicked out.

Marinette's a ghost and these four men came to her house and apparently they're doing a ghost investigation?? I mean, she was getting a bit lonely and bored, maybe it's time to "gain some friends" (read: scare the living out of them).

Pretty much the above but with bat/s as ghost/s and Marinette as the paranormal investigator with her team (i honestly want one of them to be Kagami, i don't know why). In both you need to decide who's a skeptic and who believes. It's fun, the ghost is trying to scare them off, but they're stubborn.

Sibling dickinette where Marinette calls her older brother everytime she wants to get out of a date and so he pretends to "arrest" her. (And then maybe dick decides to play a matchmaker and sets her up with one of his adoptive siblings)

Marinette as a lawyer. Her going against LexCorps who framed Wayne Enterprises for something. Or maybe Bruce was accused of murder (that he obviously did not commit) and now she has to prove his innocence. I just really want to read about badass lawyer Marinette, guys

Merlin AU. Is there any AUs with Marinette being Merlin and saving Arthur's ass (I honestly think it should be Chloe, no joke)?

Mominette where she adopts Cassandra. I just imagined them going to ballet lessons together and cooking and now I'm soft.

Marinette got dared by her friends to set a trap for the passerby that involved eggs, toy train and glitter and to then to pretend they're her ex and they cheated in her, and Jason had the misfortune to be that passerby. (Yes, this is probably crack lol)

Tim can rap. Marinette can rap. What could go wrong?? (Yes, this is probably crack too)

There's this girl they see every year when to go on trick-or-treating and she always has the most amazing or scariest costumes. But Damian will not go without a fight and so every year they compete over who has the better costume. This year they just so conveniently dressed up as the famous Halloween couple.

Jon is 17 now and it seems as no one is interested in him. He jokingly tells Damian he supects theres a ghost that's in love with him and they keep away any potential lovers from him. He doesn't know how much he's right. Marinette though, is freaking out.

Marinette decided to take a part-time job at a local pool as a life guard. There's a sudden increase in people coming to said pool but also a dramatic increase in people pretending to drown. Conner is one of them.

Marinette plays a therapist to all of the batfam. The amount of the ridiculous problems she had to listen to... She could write a book and she would make millions out of it, she swears.

"Some say "revenge is a dish best served cold.", then i read "revenge is sweet", so i came to conclusion revenge is ice cream." Huh, so that'd explain the sudden disappearance of ice cream in whole Gotham Jason had been hearing about for the past week from Bruce. The question is, what that petite bluenette is planning to do and who is going to be a victim of her ice cream revenge?

Tim had been in coma for a month after the drug bust, and he has just woken up. The first thing he does? He picks up the argument he and Marinette had been having before he's been put into a coma.

The couple at the place Jason had been at, started making out loudly, so he started making loud noises while eating his ice cream. They stopped. And he got this cute barista's phone number when she was walking past him.

Marinette's at the spa when she overhears two guys betting who can eat more slices of cucumber (that were supposed to be put on their eyelids) and she decided to participate. Safe to say they were all banned from all the spas in Gotham

Can i please get Jason/Duke/anyone making up a bedtime story for Marinette after she woke up from a nasty nightmare? I need it

Every morning and night Marinette pretends to be asleep just so she can feel Damian pull her closer, kiss her temple and whisper how much he loves her

Roy listening to Jason complaining about each first encounter of her girlfriend with his siblings and Bruce. Each is more ridiculous than the one before. He listens to it, after he and Marinette had gone through their own weird af first meeting.

Dick was so busy laughing at the bluenette who'd just walked into a post, he ran into the same post minute later. She asked him out... After she finished laughing and telling him karma's a bitch

Dick likes to think he's the reason Jason and Marinette got married. To his last days he will brag about how at his and Kori's wedding Marinette caught the bouquet, tripped and Jay caught her.

Jason asked Marinette on a date to one of the restaurant the WE owned. Then as a test, he told her he couldn't pay for all the expensive dishes they ordered. She took his hand and they ran out of the building. He's convinced he's going to marry her.

#maribat #marinette x batfam #marinette deserves better #ml salt #daminette #timinette #timari #dickinette #jasonette #conner kent x marinette dupain cheng #marijon #brucinette

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kumeko · 3 years

Text

A/N: For the @bat-famzine Bats and Birds zine! I wanted to write my fav trio, Stephanie, Tim, and Cassandra.

…

“Yep. Doing it here was the right choice,” Stephanie Brown confirmed, crossing her arms and nodding her head slowly as she surveyed the living room. A wide, expansive area, it was as big as the first floor of her house. Hell, the TV mounted on the wall was bigger than all the screens in her house combined. “No, it was the onlychoice.”

“Over-dramatic much?” Tim rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face said otherwise. Sitting in front of the TV in a mess of wires, he started connecting several game consoles to the TV. “Your house would have been fine.”

“It would have been only fine. Wayne Manor? Now that’s great.” With a snort, she gingerly picked up a free HDMI cord. “And you have what, five different consoles for us to play? In one night? And I’m the over dramatic one?”

“We could switch games part way,” Tim argued, untangling a controller. His tongue was stuck to the side, his brow furrowed as he concentrated on unravelling the messy pile in front of him. “I knew I shouldn’t have let Jason use these.”

“Is it possible to use…” Perched awkwardly on one of Bruce’s leather couches, Cassandra paused as she struggled to find the right word. Correcting herself, she continued, “to playa game in a night?”

“Depends on the game!” Delighted by the question, Tim immediately looked over his shoulder. “With the party type games—”

“Less talking, more doing!” Stephanie interrupted, before a huge spiel about time could occur. At the rate he talked, it’d be morning before they could play and Gotham probably couldn’t survive them taking two nights in a row off.

“Yes, yes,” Tim grumbled, puffing his cheeks as he hurried with set up.

Stephanie chuckled. Honestly, he was so ridiculous sometimes. Turning back to Cassandra, she winced. Cassandra didn’t look like she knew how to sit on a comfy couch, let alone relax, and maybe they should have done this earlier. She couldn’t even remember the last time Cassandra took time off. At the rate she was going, she’d turn into a mini-Batman. And they already had enough of that with Damian running around.

“What are you doing?”

Speak of the devil. Forcing a smile on her face, Stephanie turned around. “Heya, Damian.”

Damian gave her a pointed stare and she tried not to shiver. Sure, he was only ten, but in demon years, he’d be like sixty. Or was that dog years? At least there wasn’t bloodlust in his eyes. Or a weapon in his hands. “Don’t you have work to do?”

“Not tonight.” Stephanie grinned, hand on her hip. “We’re having a sleepover.”

Damian crossed his arms, raising an unimpressed brow. “So you’re slacking off.”

Part of her wondered if Bruce was rubbing off on him or vice versa. Her smile strained as she tried not to frown. “No, we’re taking a well-deserved break.”

“He doesn’t understand what that is,” Tim snipped, setting down the Switch. Finished untangling, he turned on the system and flipped on the T.V. When the screen stayed black, he frowned and fiddled with the controller. “Talk to him like you’d talk to a five-year-old.”

“I suppose she would have a lot of experience, dealing with you.” Damian casually strolled over to Tim.

Tim opened his mouth to argue, but there really was no going around that burn. It was almost impossible to get the last word with Damian; she would know. No, there was only one way this could end. Tim’s hand was already curled around a controller, his weapon of choice, and while Damian looked unarmed, she wouldn’t be surprised if he had at least ten knives hidden in his dress pants. Eyes darting from one boy to the other, Stephanie wasn’t sure if she should separate them before they stained the carpet with blood or run to the kitchen to get popcorn.

Damian pressed a button on the side of the screen and it flickered on. Lips curling into a smirk, he sneered, “Can’t even manage this much, Drake?” And just as suddenly as he had entered the room, he left.

“I hate that kid,” Tim muttered grumpily.

Stephanie patted his back consolingly. “I know. I know.”

-x-

“Jump!” Stephanie yelled, pressed up against Cassandra’s left side. When her friend gave her an owlish blink, she shouted, “X. HIT X.”

“Right.” Cassandra quickly pressed the right button, bouncing on her seat slightly. On the screen, Mario jumped to safety as a black bullet smashed into the wall beneath him. A narrow escape. Too narrow.

“Safe,” Stephanie sighed, slumping over and resting her head on Cassandra’s shoulder. Man, it was more stressful than she’d expected, watching Cassandra play. For someone who picked up every way to kill a man just by watching it once, she was an unexpectedly slow study on video game controls.

On Cassandra’s other side, Tim gave her a curious look. “Are there too many buttons to remember?”

“No, not that…” Cassandra stared at the little controller in her hands, her fingers lightly brushing over the various buttons. The tracking pad. Mario shuffled in spot, waiting to move. “I just want to do it myself.”

Stephanie looked up, eyebrow raised. “You mean, run through the forest fighting off bullets and bombs and weird turtle guys?”

“Yes.” Cassandra paused, then shook her head. “No. I want to…I want to jump. To run. To do that action. When you say ‘dodge’, I want to dodge.”

“Oh!” Tim hit his fist on his open palm, realization dawning on his face. “Is that why you keep bouncing in your seat?”

“Yes.” Cassandra nodded. “I tried to…keep it still.”

“Doing a terrible job of it.” Sitting up, Stephanie stroked her chin. “Oh, is it like when I play foosball and just want to tear out the sticks and force the guys to hit the ball?”

“Kinda.” Tim shot her a deadpan stare. “But that’s mainly because you’re bad at it.”

“…them’s fighting words.” Plucking the controller out of Cassandra’s hands, she brought up the home menu. Opening Smash, she turned to Tim with a challenging smirk. “Ready for a beat down?”

“Don’t go home crying,” Tim retorted, picking up the second controller. He pushed his hair back, out of his eyes, turning on his serious mode. “What was our score? 40 to 17?”

Gritting her teeth, she swiped a finger across her neck, execution-style.

-x-

“I’m sorry.” Cassandra wrung her hands apologetically, her cheeks red with embarrassment. She hung her head shamefully, her back hunched as they headed toward the kitchen.

“It’s fine!” Tim reassured quickly, patting her back awkwardly. “We can always get new controllers.”

Arms crossed behind her head, Stephanie looked over her shoulder at the pair. “I didn’t think you could break them like that.”

“It could happen to anyone.” Tim shot her a shut-up glare.

Stephanie had never taken a hint before and she wasn’t about to start now. “No, seriously. What kinda workout do you give your fingers? Those buttons look like they were hammeredin.”

Still a little flustered, Cassandra curled her fingers in and out. “Push ups. Finger bands. I use a lot of. Uh. Methods.”

Push-ups. Stephanie cocked her head, remembering their work-outs together. Remembering Cassandra’s finger push ups. An entire human body supported by a single finger. Her mouth made an ‘o’ shape. “Riiigghhht. Got it.”

“I could teach you,” Cassandra offered, looking more enthusiastic now. She curled her hand into a fist, punching the air ahead of them. “Just like before.”

“Uhhh….” Stephanie suppressed a shudder, remembering how their first time around as teacher-student had gone. Vomiting. Bruises. Bones that felt like they should have been broken but were miraculously not. Sure, she was better now: faster, quicker, stronger, all of that jazz. Part of her feared that would make Cassandra’s spartan training even worse, that she’ll kick it up a notch thinking she didn’t have to hold back now. “I’ll…think about it.”

“Chicken!” Tim teased, chuckling.

Cassandra turned to Tim hopefully. “To make up for the controller.”

He froze mid-laugh. Like a deer in the headlights, he was only able to blink and nod.

“Fraidy cat,” Stephanie muttered, rolling her eyes. Falling back to walk apace with Cassandra, she bumped shoulders with her. “Honestly, with the allowance you guys get, I bet Tim won’t even notice the controllers.” As they entered the kitchen, she leaned forward, shooting him a questioning look. “How much do you guys get again?”

“Finished with your games, are you?” A formal, clipped tone interrupted their discussion. Alfred Pennyworth stood in front of the counter, whisking briskly in a plastic bowl. “I am afraid you will have to wait a little longer for the waffles.”

“Alfred! You remembered!” Stephanie gave Alfred a side hug. He was even wearing the frilly apron she gave him last year. “It’s been so long since I had one of your waffles!” Excited, Stephanie pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and sat on it backwards. Resting her chin on the chair’s back, she grinned cheerfully. “Best food ever. This is why we had to do this here.”

“The curtain’s why we have to do this here,” Tim mocked, rolling his eyes as he sat next to her.

“Didn’t you ask for the waffles?” Cassandra asked. She stood next to Alfred, watching curiously as he stirred. “For Steph.”

Tim coloured at that, turning away when Stephanie gave him a questioning look. “Cass! You weren’t supposed to say that!”

“Ooohh?” Stephanie grinned, looping an arm around his shoulders. He covered his face, but she could see his ears and they were as red as a tomato. “Did someone miss me?”

“Vey much so, Miss Stephanie.” Alfred smiled kindly, cracking an egg and adding it to the batter. “I dare say the house had been too quiet with you gone. It is good to have you back.”

“Aww, Alfred.” Stephanie could feel her own face flushing now, her skin warm, and she blew him a kiss. “I missed you too.”

“I have to apologize, though, for the state your waffles are in.” Alfred wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, before folding it neatly and returning it to his pocket. “I had created a batch with blueberries earlier but Master Damian consumed them.”

“He ate them,” Stephanie replied flatly. Her hand curled into a fist and she looked up at the ceiling, in the direction of Damian’s room. That little punk. There was no way he wanted those waffles—they weren’t ‘elite’ enough for him. She narrowed her eyes. “He’s just messing with me.”

“That’s just…” Thinking about it a little more, Tim rubbed his neck. “He is. He definitely is.”

-x-

“We should do the party game,” Stephanie suggested, scrolling through Tim’s game list. It was simple enough—throwing a die and hoping to land on the right tile. Just like Monopoly! Most importantly, it sounded like something she could win. “Pure luck.”

“You’ll still lose.” Tim picked up an old Gamecube case. “Maybe Starfox. Or Sonic.”

“You trash talking me?” Stephanie glared at him. “I beat you before and I’ll beat you again.”

“That’s like one out of—Cass?” They watched as Cassandra re-entered the living room, calmly walking over to her bag. She gave them a short nod as she reached in and pulled out a rope. “Uh…what’s that for?”

“Damian,” Cassandra replied, her voice eerily flat. She coiled the rope around her arm and headed to the door.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Stephanie dropped the Switch and a frantic Tim dived to catch it. Quickly, she ran in front of Cassandra, her arms spread wide. “What are you doing?”

“Catching Damian,” Cassandra explained, as though it was the most natural thing.

“With a rope?” She tugged the rope, trying to pry it free. “What’d he do?”

Setting the Switch down carefully, Tim stood back and crossed his arms. “Did he attack you?”

“No.” Cassandra paused, an uncharacteristic frown on her face. “He…complimented me.”

“Huh? Damian Wayne? Mr. Snobby Brat himself?’ Stephanie tried and failed to keep her jaw from dropping. Sure, she highly suspected Damian would like Cassandra; with her assassin-like skills and taciturn behaviour, she was almost everything Damian wanted to be. It was still another thing to hear it. “Then why’re so angry?”

“…he insulted you.” Cassandra walked around her, pushing open the door.

They watched her leave, Tim giving a low whistle. “Three strikes, and he’s out.”

“Do you think we should, uh, follow?” Stephanie bit her cheek when it was clear Cassandra wasn’t coming back. “It might get...bloody.”

“Oh definitely.” Tim grinned, practically skipping out the door. “I only wish I had popcorn.”

-x-

“You know, it’s too bad Damian didn’t want to join us,” Stephanie sighed, selecting her car for the race. It was a hard choice between something purple and semi-good, and something ridiculous. She went with ridiculous. Baby Daisy in a Flame Ride.

“MMMFFFFF.”

Tim snickered, pressing start. “I know. I can almost hear him now, begging to join us.”

“MMMMMNNNNNFFFF.”

“I think he is cursing us.” Cassandra looked over her shoulder curiously at the strung-up Damian. Strung upside down like a turkey, his face was red as he continued to shout. Or tried to shout. The cloth muffled most of his words. Squinting, Cassandra tried to read his body language but even with her skills, it was an impossible task. “I think he is…angry.”

“I’m sure he is.” Stephanie nodded sagely, before gently turning Cassandra’s face toward the TV. It was just like her to miss the point; they were supposed to be ignoring the jerk. “We’re also in the middle of a race.”

Doubt colouring her expression, she looked uncertainly over her shoulder at Damian’s struggling form. He swung side to side, outraged. “Should we take him down?”

“That’s what got him there in the first place,” Tim quipped. He laughed when Damian growled. “I never knew how much I needed to hear that.”

“Me neither.” Stephanie sighed blissfully. “Should have done that ages ago.” Watching as Cassandra hesitantly selected Mario, she raised a brow. “Really? Him? He’s like, the most stereotypical choice.”

Cassandra stared at her like she was crazy. “How can the others drive? They do not have thumbs. Or a license.”

“It’s…part of the game.” Well, when it was put like that, Stephanie couldn’t really argue. Giant gorillas, toads, and babies; none of them made sense as drivers. “They’re not actually—well, they are actually gorillas but…um…cartoon gorillas? Real life doesn’t really mean anything to them.” When Cassandra still looked at her questioningly, she moaned and pressed ‘x’. “Look, let’s just start the game, okay? It’ll make sense later.”

Three matches later, Stephanie wasn’t sure if it made any more sense, but it certainly hadn’t stopped Cassandra from branching out and becoming a flower monster, an elf, and a turtle. Lying on the floor, she turned her hands left and right with her car, as though she were speeding down the track with it. Not that Stephanie was much better—honestly, there was just something about a racing game that made you want to veer with it. Sitting on Cassandra’s back, she gritted her teeth as Princess Peach slammed into a tunnel wall. “That’s cheating, Tim!”

“It’s in the rules, Steph!” Tim growled back, his hip bumping into her arm as he tried to keep Link on the tracks.

“Interference!” she shouted, hitting buttons wildly. One of them would make her go faster. Or shoot down Tim. Or burn down the racetrack. “You hit my arm.”

“And you spilled my drink!”

“MMMMMHHHHH.”

“See? Damian’s on my side!”

-x-

“Ah, Miss Stephanie.” Alfred exited the kitchen, a tray in his hands. Three glasses of pop sat on them, looking far more expensive than the coke she found in the supermarket. Even the chips she brought looked elevated in a ceramic bowl, and she wasn’t sure if that was Alfred’s magic or if it was just how expensive everything else was. “I was just bringing snacks.”

“You’re the best, Alfred.” Stephanie tried to take the tray from him but he smoothly stepped out of her reach. “Alfred?”

“Allow me to perform my duties.” Alfred smiled, lowering the tray in front of her. “Drink?”

“…alright, but I’ll bring the dishes back, ok?” With a grumble, she took a glass. “My mom would kill me if she found out I did nothing.”

“I’m sure we can find something for you to do.” Alfred approached the living room, peaking in. His eyebrow raised at the sight before him. “Is that Master Damian?”

“Yeah…” Stephanie admitted sheepishly. “We’ll untie him soon. Promise.”

“When you do, I would advise Master Timothy to hide his games. I do not imagine this has made Master Damian any fonder of them.” Alfred’s smile didn’t drop, amusement colouring face. “I am surprised you managed to catch him.”

“Cass, it was all her.” Stephanie shivered, not sure what would have happened if she hadn’t been around. Death. That was probably it.

“That would explain it.” Alfred chuckled softly, turning to her. He smiled fondly. “Truly, it is good to have you back.”

Something about how he said it made it all feel official. That she was finally home, after everything. Giving him a one-armed hug, she smiled. “Me too.”

#batfam #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #tim drake #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #robin #batgirl #fanfic

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awkwardbluefish · 3 years

Text

Moments Captured in Time

Bruce was tired. Exhausted really.

Despite the burning behind his eyes and the damp drapes of curtains that were his eyelids he continued to work, continued to gaze at the luminescent blue screen before him. It was quiet in the cave, yet the migraine continued to pulse behind his eyes and tighten in their sockets. Some would argue Bruce wasn’t really working, they’d be right in a way. Technically he was working, but the only reason why was in avoidance of something he did not want to go through.

Sleep. He was avoiding going to sleep. Because Bruce knew when he let the curtains fall and the false peacefulness usually bought by darkness then the nightmares would kick in. The memories would burn, flickering in his head like a burning candle despite how desperately he tried to make it to stop. He didn’t want to remember that night. He didn’t want to remember the boy he had failed, the boy he told himself he would protect. He didn’t want to remember the night he had failed his own son, just because he wasn’t fast enough, because he wasn’t clever enough.

For a second, he closes his eyes, let his shoulders sag. The memories begin like a broken record and his heart burns because he knows he was too slow. His heart thumps in the cage he calls his ribs as the visualising begins. There was nothing left that night, nothing left besides a broken boy. There was nothing there of that building but ash and smoking debris. His chest aches because he remembers there was no pulse but checking anyway. He remembers broken ribs shattering under his palms as he pumped, desperate for a single breath. Desperate for five more minutes with his Robin, his son. It hadn’t have worked, his boy remained dead. He stayed a corpse, a life snuffed out far too soon by a psychopath. He was gone.

“Bruce,” the voice forces his eyes to peel a part, cracking them open to see a darkened screen. A sigh escapes his lips as he rolls his shoulders, hearing the bones crack and groan like a hollowed-out house with only the abandoned ghosts left in those walls.

“I’m working Alfred.” His voice is rough, low, as if it’s been through a grinder and barley made it out. He’s not working, a plain as day lie. Alfred doesn’t say anything to that, staying silent.

Bruce forgets sometimes that he isn’t the only one who lost Jason that night. He’s not the only one mourning the boy’s loud absence. He brows wrinkle but no words escape chapped lips. He won’t apologise. Cant. He’s the reason Jason’s gone. He doesn’t deserve to cry, to mourn, when it’s his fault.

“I see.” His father murmurs, and the sadness behind his words slice at his heart, leaving a gaping wound that bleeds sluggishly. Bruce stares at the dark screen as Alfred sighs and in the reflection of a crystal-clear screen he can see the sagged shoulders, the weary tilt of the brow. Out of all of that he zeroes in and the thin envelope cradled in his fingers. Bruce doesn’t ask but Alfred answers. “Master Timothy gave this to me. He noticed you were upset and believed you would enjoy this.”

The envelope lays on the keyboards. Bruce doesn’t reach for it, lowering his head as he thought of the small and brilliant boy. The boy who wiggled his way into his life, made himself such a home that Bruce couldn’t even bare to imagine forcing him out off. He’s failed Tim. Not like he’s failed Jason, god forbid, but he hasn’t been kind to the boy as of late. He’s snapped at Tim, the ocean eyed boy who gazed upon Bruce with such awe he never quite knew what to make off it. He’s taken his grief out on him, the kid that absolutely adored him. That loved him.

“He’s a good kid.” Alfred says. He doesn’t stay after that. But the words echo in Bruce’s head. He knows the words left unsaid. Don’t lose him too. Don’t push him away like you’ve done with Dick.

Eventually Bruce reaches out, lifting the envelope into dried up and broken skinned fingers. Carefully, gently, he opens the letter, watching as paper breaks as it clings to glue. Carefully he pulls the slim piece of something out of the paper cage, breath catching and throat clamping tight as the picture shimmers in the dim lights of the cave.

It was Jason. It was Jason, in his bright costume, alive and happy. It was Jason laughing, his wiry and far too thin arms wrapped tightly around his stomach, doubled over and Bruce can hear his laughter, loud and booming echoing in his ears. Its Jason, laughing at Bruce. Bruce, dressed up as Batman, egg yolk slipping down his cowl. The lighting of the alley shadows his features but Bruce knows he’s smiling because he knows this moment, remembers this moment. It had been nearing Easter, and Dick had created a competition that night to see who could egg Batman the most. Jason had caught him by surprise and Bruce remembers, despite the slimy yolk sliding down his back, cold and thick, he had been so proud of this boy for the surprise attack.

Tim. He had taken this photograph.

Bruce licks his lips, ribs caging in his heart tight. His heart is warm, blood bubbling in his veins. A small laugh breaks free from his lips, his eyes crinkling and heart clenching. He cradles the picture, a moment frozen in time and he smiles, pretending there wasn’t tears clogging up his eyes. A hand cradles his lips and he ducks his head, caving in on himself. In this picture Jason was alive. In this picture Jason was happy. In reality he was neither.

Swallowing down the tears he blinks his eyes, revelling in the fact it was just a tad easier this time despite the tears dampening the curtains even more. He shakes his head, unwashed bangs tickling his forehead. Body aching, heart hammering he forces himself to his feet, photograph clutched gently in his hands. The walls that usually held him up, made him strong, made him invincible, made him Batman, collapse in a pile of debris. Moment by moment, they fall. Salty drops fall down his chin, drenching a grey, sweat damp shirt.

Steadying himself he presses his palms to the black leather chair, focusing on breathing. Vaguely he realises he’s trembling. There was a rawness to it, like the pain was still an open wound, all of this forced out of him by a picture. The sobs were stifled at first as he attempts to hide the grief from the world, from himself, then, overcome with the wave of emotions he just breaks. All the defences he built up those upcoming weeks wash away by salt tasting tears. It was pathetic, the picture he was painting, one of grief, loss and broken devastation.

He had to pull it together. He had to see Tim. He needed to know if there were more, he needs to see these moments frozen in time. He needed to see Jason alive, even if it was just through a picture. He inhales sharply, unfolding himself from the curved form over the chair, picking up the debris of his walls and building them up all over again. The shutters come down; his emotion being walled off behind a mask of coping. He’d wear it around Tim, he had too. He just had to keep it up a little bit more.

Slowly he focuses, roughly scraping his balled-up fist against his cheeks, ridding away the evidence of his loss. Tim took this photograph. Could he have more?

He finds the boy resting on the couch. His face is scrunched up, eyes screwed up, creating wrinkles as he bites at his lips between his mutterings. He’s sitting there, mouth moving a mile a minute as he shifts through contents in an old shoe box. Bruce can’t make out the words, he never could when Tim murmurs like that, voice trying to catch up with his mind. He never minded it though, knowing this was how Tim sorted through his thoughts. He never does it during a stakeout, fingers always taking over and tapping along his knees and up his thighs so Bruce never had a reason to complain.

“You’ll draw blood,” Bruce’s voice echoes in the room. His voice is thick, deep and absolutely wrecked with grief. He swallows, tries to force a smile to his lips when the startled boy jumps, much like a startled cat. It falls short, watching Tim’s eyes fill in panic as he zeros in on the picture still clutched like a prized possession withing Bruce’s fingers.

Tim opens his mouth and Bruce can see the impending apologies about to spew from his lips, so, he steps forward. His lips clamp shut, tight as a clam and Bruce fiddles with the white edged border around the delicate photograph. God forbid, he was scared. He shakes his head and he knows he looks absolutely terrible and wrecked and he knows Tim can see it and he knows he thinks he’s done something wrong. But he hasn’t. Tim has done something absolutely perfect.

“Do you have more?” He asks and his chest burns but it’s nothing compared to his throat, coals stuck in the back of it.

Tim gazes at him, analysing. Then he nods, small and soft. His small, frail body shuffles over, cradling the shoe box tight to his chest. When Bruce doesn’t move, too scared too, he pats the cream cushion next to him, not meeting his gaze as he stares into the box with acute determination.

The weight shifts when he sits down and a small smile twitches at his lips when Tim’s raised along with the pillow. The boy isn’t bothered, smiling his small triumph when he finds whatever it is, he’s looking for. Carefully he pulls it out and holds it to his chest, eyes flickering to Bruce’s desperate expressions and nodding. He licks his lips, holds out the photograph at arms length.

Bruce nearly snatches at it, afraid that it would disappear into thin air. Despite the urge he’s slow, fingers twitching hesitantly a second away before Tim gently, forcefully, passes it to Bruce. His gaze flickers to the other picture, lips twitching by the way Bruce crinkles the edges with his grip. He makes no move to take it away and Bruce is grateful, knowing he wouldn’t be able to give Jason away again.

It takes a while for him to look at it, watching Tim give an encouraging nod at him that contrasts with the terror hidden behind those ocean orbs. He was scared he was doing something wrong, that he’d just hurt Bruce more. He could see the hidden worries behind those eyes. He was scared Bruce wouldn’t like it and Bruce could not stand that look on his childs’ face. He smiles, numb as it is, and trails his own blue piercing eyes to the photograph lying on his palm.

His eyes rake over the picture, devouring all the little details in a second. Despite that all he truly makes out is Jason, his boy alive and happy. There’s a huge grin on his face, mouth full of glimmering teeth. The domino covers his eyes but Bruce is brought to tears at the mere thought of how bright they are, how bright they were.

Any resolve crumbles and the pictures tumble out of his hands. He reaches out, desperate to cling to reality. His arms cradle around the boys’ shoulders, bringing him to his chest with a yelp muffled into his shoulder blade. Limbs are everywhere, bones digging into his thighs, arms and chest. A nose is pressed deep into his breast but it was nothing but good. The tears begin sliding down his cheeks again and Bruce was always and ugly crier but at this moment he couldn’t care less. Gently he cuddles the boy to him, burying his face into coconut scented locks, swallowing thickly, coals burning in his throat and his chest as he cries. He makes no sound, chest heaving and he feels oh so small hands weaving themselves around his back. His boy hugs him back, hesitant and nervous and Bruce brings him closer, having half the mind to place the brown shoe box digging into their waists on the crystal coffee table.

“Thank you,” he murmurs and the boy he manhandled onto his lap stiffens in surprise and if that doesn’t hurt Bruce than he has no idea what will. “Thank you, Tim, these are brilliant. Thank you for showing me.” He whispers, like it’s a secret only Tim is allowed to hear. The boy slackens in his hold, slowly and then he’s digging his cold nose into his shoulder blade and Bruce is laughing, tears streaming down his cheeks, eyes staining red the more the tears willingly spill.

“You can keep them,” Tim murmurs into his chest. Bruce’s voice is too wrecked, too broken to even speak. He swallows around the coals logged in his throat and manages to hum. Tim hums back and Bruce chuckles wetly, hearing Dick whisper in his ear about Tim being a Bruce translator.

“I’m so proud of you,” his words crack as tears begin to dry and crust on his cheeks and stubbled chin. Tim hums again, seemingly content with the silence. “I knew you knew our secret. But taking pictures of us? Absolutely brilliant, little ninja. You’ve done good. So good.”

Bruce says nothing after that, not when the arms tighten almost painfully around his waist, not even when his shirt dampens. He doesn’t tell Tim this is the first time he’s willingly cried in front of anyone without resistance. He doesn’t say this is the first time he’s laughed, smiled on the day of Jason’s death. He doesn’t tell Tim he’s the only reason why Bruce is keeping together. He doesn’t tell Tim he’s the glue keeping this small and broken family together. What he does tell Tim, is that he loves him.

#I’ve never felt so inspired before and you can thank Niul for that!!#tim drake #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #dc #my writing #mine #angst

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