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#uncle dick
allineedisonedream · 1 month
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Kinda random, I guess. Lives just a little bit hectic lately and I just really needed to draw them and a giraffe to cheer myself up.😭💕
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charlietheepicwriter7 · 5 months
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"Nightwing."
Dick froze halfway across a rooftop, the lights and gunshots of Bludhaven disappearing in an instant. A scowl flashed across his face, teeth clenched and bared, before he forced it back. His face smoothed back out and his voice took on a pleasant, amused tone. "Slade. How did you get this frequency?"
"Nevermind that," Slade scolded. "We have more important things that need discussing, and information to be revealed."
"Is this about Constantinople?" He asked with a lilt, propping one hand on his hip. "Because I thought I told you, those geese totally counted as villains and deserved arrest--"
"I found a child vigilante. What do I do with it?"
"Ex-cuse me?" His fist clenched. "Is this a trick question?"
"No."
"What do you mean, 'what do I do with it?' You know what to do with it; you become its nemisis when their 15 and haunted them for the next decade." His voice was thinly-veiled rage. He couldn't stop himself from shaking. That poor kid, Slade has his sights set on them. He's going to torture that kid, or worse, and now I have to track Slade's trail back to wherever he found this kid--
"I can't do that! He's only eight years old!"
"What?"
"There's this eight year old meta brat running around a Mid-West town in his pajamas while adults shoot at him. There isn't a mentor in sight, and one of the kid's rogues has threatened to skin him. What. Do. I. Do?"
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faeriekit · 25 days
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The Foster Mother
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Now on ao3 and VHS release
There was, supposedly, someone waiting for him in the green sitting room.
“…Why?” Tim asked. Most of the usual suspects had already come by to give their “condolences”—former Drakes Industries investors, curious about the newly orphaned heir; fellow socialites, once again flocking in to give and receive sympathies for their “close friends, the Drakes”; gawkers come to see what they could scavenge off of a dead family’s home, never mind that their child was alive.
“She claims to know you, Master Tim,” Alfred offered, kettle in his hand. He spent a moment deciding between different two canisters of tea; a sign of possibly difficult future conversation. “Her interest in your father's estate seemed quite…minimal.”
…Alright.
Tim was still in his formalwear. Dissolving Drake Industries would take at least another year, and plenty of future hours cementing the future home of certain resources in their dissolution, but the outfit probably was more appropriate for whatever oncoming conversation that was about to ensue than his planned change into Dick’s old hoodie and board shorts.
Okay. Tim steeled himself. The self-determination…mostly worked. Whatever. He trudged up into the green sitting room from the kitchen with his usual introduction ready on his tongue.
And then Tim walked into the room.
And then Jazzy was there.
*
Tim had been three, and Miss Jasmine had been his had been his third nanny. He’d outgrown the wetnurse early on, and his second nanny had been dismissed, so although Miss Jasmine was the third nanny, she was first nanny Tim could consciously remember.
She’d had red hair. She’d been very gentle with him.
She got him up in the morning and put him to bed at night; for the first time, there had been someone who sat with him until he was asleep, reading all sorts of books his parents had left to engage him with as an early genius. Then, when those were over and done as promised to his parents, they got unauthorized books from the library: silly books with made-up words, dinosaur books, books about teddy bears and adventures around the world.
Tim hadn’t been allowed to travel the world. Tim hadn’t been allowed a teddy bear. His parents had thought it would encourage undue attachment.
(It had been the same reason he’d never been given a pacifier.)
Miss Jazz had given him a knitted bunny. She’d said her dad had made it especially for him.
The toy’s name was Bunny and Tim remembered him being very soft.
She didn’t smile all the time, but smiles were rewards that were easy to earn. He finished his meal and she smiled. He finished an educational puzzle and she smiled. He was quiet all through her phone call and she smiled, and answered all his questions once she was done.
Jazzy had been the first person in his life who was there all the time. She’d kissed his forehead after the bath and kissed his scraped knees; she’d carried him in his arms when he was tired and sometimes even when he wasn’t. His parents had wanted him to be independent, proactive, and not clingy, but Jazzy had been someone who he could run to from his bed when he’d had nightmares and someone he could cuddle on her lap with when he’d cried.
She was gone when he was seven. He didn’t remember why. His parents had probably never told him, but still; he'd assumed he'd have found out why eventually.
Jazzy looked the same right now as she looked in Tim’s memories, although she was likely no longer a college student at a nannying gig. Her red hair was pulled into a high bun, her dress modest and conservative from her neck to her ankles. There was a backpack beside her foot. She was sitting, one leg crossed over the other, on the high-backed loveseat in the green sitting room.
She looked up when he came in.
Tim. Stopped in his tracks.
It didn’t matter. Jazzy—Miss Jasmine stood up as soon as she saw him, eyes alight with worry. Foggy memories were swimming to the forefront of Tim’s brain. He couldn’t move.
“Tim?” Ja—Miss Jasmine asked, teal eyes raking over his frame. Tim froze where he was. He didn’t move, wide-eyed and terrified for no reason at all when Miss Jasmine got closer to him, at a distance that was more appropriate for a conversation.
She stood there. Watching him. It felt like his mother had just come home from her trips with Dad, and a ghost of old terror wafted through him as he waited for her to decide he’d done something wrong. Her voice got softer. Her eyes got softer. Why was Tim feeling so wrong-footed?? It was only a former staff person!
“Tim?” her voice was so gentle. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m—“
“M’s Jazz,” Tim croaked. Which. Wasn’t the level of formality he’d been going for, but better than Jazzy. He wasn’t a toddler anymore.
Miss Jasmine was so tall—honestly, was she taller than Bruce? She’d seemed insurmountable as a child; he hadn’t expected her height to truly be so statuesque as an adult.
(Or. Well. Almost an adult.)
She didn’t quite kneel down, but she did stoop lower, as if Tim was small and he needed to be on equal footing in order to have a serious conversation.
He could see all her freckles. Tim swallowed. It was too familiar. Everything about her was too familiar.
“You’re so big now,” Jazzy whispered, looking at his hair, his suit, his polished shoes. He didn’t feel it. “Oh, you’ve grown up so well.”
Thanks, Tim almost said. Something stopped him—something thick in his throat, to impassable to break through.
“I—“ he tried. He coughed. “Why…you… You’re here?”
Jazzy threw him an incredulous look, and then an incredibly wry one. “Well,” she drawled a little too primly, in the way that Alfred occasionally made obvious statements, “I’d think it obvious that when one’s parents have passed away, that those who care about you might come to check and see if you’re alright.”
Which. That didn’t make sense. Jazzy hadn’t come back for any other reason; she hadn’t come back for his mother’s funeral, nor when his father was injured publicly by a villain. Why start now?
“And,” Jazz added, seeing his visual confusion and distrust, “Your parents can’t exactly threaten me with a kidnapping charge for visiting you when they’re dead.” Pause. “Which I am sorry about. My condolences.”
Which. Whiplash. What a statement.
“Uh,” said Tim, who was rapidly losing control over the situation.
Jazzy stood again, and went back to her seat; she didn’t set herself down, though, as she only stooped to grab her backpack. “I am sorry for being unable to visit, although I really wanted to; you were at a very vulnerable age and had already moved into a class a year above you, and your parents should have been less hasty about replacing your main caretaker. The assassination attempts were unwarranted, but they did drive the point home that attempting contact was perhaps discouraged.”
“What,” said Tim. “Assassin what.”
“They were ninjas,” Jazzy offered, as if that was an answer. “Except the last one, which was a former marine. The point is that I do care about you, and wanted to ask if you had any idea where you’re going now that your parents are no longer…available guardians.”
Tim’s mouth opened. It closed.
Jazzy waited patiently.
“…How have you been?” Tim tried, resorting to a part of the script they hadn’t gone through yet.
Jazzy’s laugh was tired, but no less real. It was nothing like listening to his parents titter politely; he didn’t think Jazzy would even know how to fake a laugh. “Well, my brother told me that my former bosses had died, which was somewhat stressful. Otherwise, I’m pretty happy: I live with my brother and worked with him for the last few years. I was going to pursue medicine, but…well. The assassination attempts made it hard to interview for scholarships. I suppose that I could return to that now,” Jazzy mused, attention now elsewhere. She pulled the backpack off the floor and up into her grip. She opened it, and flipped through its contents. “How are you doing? I know that Wayne Manor fosters, but your parents were always rather…hands off. I thought the difference in levels of attention might be overwhelming.”
It was. Tim should be surprised how clearly she sees through him—
—But Jazzy used to watch him stim for almost a full hour after school, twisting Bunny’s arms back and forth until he could calm down. Seeing other people all day had been too much for him. Coming home from his parents’ parties had been similarly stressful.
She’d never been mad at him for it. She held him while he talked and stimmed and talked and talked and talked, and brushed his hair sometimes, or if it was very late and he was very young, helped him brush his teeth through all the medieval execution facts he could name.
“It is a lot to get used to,” Tim agreed quietly. He didn’t want to be ungrateful. He didn’t want to let on anyone about his plan to leave.
He had an out. The papers had already been filed; there was an actor waiting to play his uncle for a custody battle, ready for the fight.
Tim was ready to up and go. It was no hardship to leave all the good things here; anything beat making Bruce stick his fingers into Tim any deeper than they already were, compromising the dynamic they’d already established.
It was for the best.
“I can imagine,” Jazzy sympathized easily. “And I wanted to offer—well. I know there’s probably a lot of choices available to you, but my brother and I recently moved back to Gotham proper for the time being. He’s teaching astronomy courses at the university and I’m filing paperwork for Arkham patients. It’s not so privileged a home, but it’s quieter, and more central in town.”
…Tim’s heart skipped.
He. He couldn’t stop staring. Jazzy stared back at him, quiet and sure. Sure of what, Tim had no idea, but…
Why? Why would she want Tim? There was no way she would be able to get to his trust fund without his help, and he for sure knew better than to enable her ability to leech from him. The last time she’d known him, Tim had been a snot-nosed kid who cried all the time and couldn’t be normal for twenty consecutive minutes. His parents couldn’t even stand to be on the same hemisphere as him as a child. What appeal did this have for her?? What could having a teenager with severe baggage living in her house do for her?
And it’s not like there was any chance she knew he was Robin!
“Oh,” Jazzy suddenly interrupted. “I brought these for you, by the way. Your parents had tossed them out at various points; I’ve washed them since, of course.”
She handed him the backpack by the handle.
…Tim peeked inside.
On top was Bunny, still a washed-out faded sort of pink. He looked as fresh as he had the day when Tim’s parents had ”cleaned out” Tim’s nursery—in other words, a faded, a little gray, and slightly discolored from an old spaghetti stain. His button eyes were big and blue.
And beneath him were books that hadn’t passed his father’s muster as appropriately masculine reading material: The Velveteen Rabbit, with the cover a little scarred from a fierce attack of wet wipes. There’s A Monster at the End of This Book, with a goofy-looking Muppet on the cover, gold spine beat up beyond belief. Art Tim’s teacher at the time must have laminated and sent home; Tim’s dorky, crayon cat proved he would never make it as an artist, but attached to it was a photograph of a grinning boy with a bowl cut and a missing tooth.
Tim stared. There’d been purple marker on his hands and face. His grin looked…really bad, actually, like as if he was baring his teeth because he didn’t know how to smile. There was no formal grace there. Nothing to show the neighbors, nothing worth framing to put into the line of sight of the investors in the office.
Jazzy had kept it and brought it home with her. Jazzy had fished it out of the trash, and brought it with her to give back to him in Gotham.
It was crinkled like it’d been folded, over and over again. Further down in the bag was a crumpled certificate dedicated to “Timmy Drake, for: knowing a lot about octopi”, and a baby blanket Tim didn’t even remember. It had rocket ships on it. It looked as if someone had cut into it with scissors, although it had been obviously and brightly mended with red embroidery floss later on.
Jazzy had only been his nanny until Tim was seven. She had simply been gone one night, and Mom and Dad had been home for ten nights after without help before giving in and hiring Mrs. McIlvane and Mrs. Edith. Ms. Edith had never been so…permissive…with Tim as Jazzy had been.
Tim swallowed. He carefully put everything back into the backpack, unsure if he even wanted to keep it or not. It wasn’t like he could leave it here; he’d be gone, ideally, before the week was out. There was no point in taking it with him if he only planned to live with a stranger until he was eighteen.
“J…” Tim tried. He cut himself off before he could get too informal without prompting. “Miss Jasmine—“
“Just Jazz,” Jazzy corrected politely.
“—Why are you here?” Tim asked, ignoring how she’d technically already answered. He didn’t believe her. “What made my parents fire you?”
Jazzy’s expression turned…soft. Tim couldn’t look at her. Something horrible was welling with it, and he didn’t know how to cope.
“I’m here because I care about you,” Jazz repeated, and knelt beside him. She looked up into his face, and took his hand. Tim didn’t know why. He was practically an adult—he didn’t need this!
“And I was fired because your Mother overheard you calling me ‘Mommy’ on accident when you were tired. I suppose she was insulted, although I’d never know why; it’s not like she was ever home to bond with you in the first place.”
Tim’s throat closed. He missed his mom. He missed waiting up for his parents’ flight home, seeing their headlights outside the window, and knowing they’d bring home gifts from overseas. He missed using Mom’s perfume, and knowing he’d used more of the bottle sitting on her dressed than she ever had, but that it still smelled like her. He missed hearing his Dad telling all sorts of adventure stories and promises through the phone to be home for the holidays, even if Tim knew there was every chance he’d find some other way to spend the time back in Gotham.
And there was some small child in him who missed Jazzy, who hugged him and walked him to the library and made him soup from a can instead of fancy dinners and, who’d never needed to be waited for in the first place.
Tim looked at Jazzy’s round, freckled face.
He swallowed.
Tim moved out before the end of the week, as expected.
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yrkhn · 7 days
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with uncle Clark :D
I see a lot of mistakes here, but I forgive myself for them, because I remember how hard I tried when I drew this. 2022
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p1nkshield · 1 year
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Dick: If I’m anything I’m like the fun, cool uncle right? Totally like a cool uncle with a mysterious past.
Tim: uh…
Damian: No. if anything you are the most motherly person among us.
Dick: Okay, Dami. Are you sure you don’t feel that way because you’re my youngest brother?
Damian: No, it is because you keep photos of my paintings in your camera roll to show to anyone near. Willing or otherwise.
Dick: that’s just brotherly pride! I-
Duke: you always have snacks.
Dick: that’s because I hang out with Wally! I’m not th-
Jason: You also dole out nicknames quicker than the flash.
Dick: Et tu brute? I’m hurt you would dogpile on me like this. Also, there is nothing more brotherly then giving out nicknames!
Jason: yeah but they’re never antagonistic, they’re always cutesy.
Dick: …Tim? Don’t tell me you’ll betray me too!
Tim: uh, well… you do kinda tell me to rest in a very mom tone when I’m going without sleep for too long.
Dick: mom tone? I do not have a mom tone!
Damian: you have one currently.
Dick: D:
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rhombiee · 3 months
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Every time I picture Dick Grayson I see Uncle Jesse from full house. Like
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LIKE??? It fits right you see it too right
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Bonus mullet era
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In conclusion ✨
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I’ve had this idea in my head for days now and it just won’t LEAVE so here have scraps
So we know those de-aged au’s with Danny right, and the ones where Jason adopts him? YESSSSSS so anyways the thing that’s been ravaging my brain like an anteater on crystal meth is:
So all night has been pretty shit for Jason. Drug dealers, a couple muggings (who even goes out anymore in crime alley, at this time of night???????) and some human traffickers. You know, the usual. So anyways he’s pissed. Not to mention when he comes across some bastard who’s beating his family, jason promptly broke his legs in a couple new ways he liked. Later, deep into the night he’s already seeing a bit of green around the edges and he’s already called in dick to cover some areas while he cools off, so, naturally, as it is in crime alley, something goes horribly wrong that gets him pissed. Beyond pissed. He sees green and only when dick drags him away does he see some red too. A lot of red.
Fuck.
Well, he knows exactly what he has to do, so he pushed dick off of him and starts roof-hopping over to his apartment (where did his bike go?) and dick calls in the others thinking Jason’s going for more weapons/ammo or smthn, and Jason gets to his lil place and carefully opens a window, trying to be quiet because even though he’s in a killing mood he doesn’t want to wake Danny up, what kind of monster would do that?
Anyways Jason’s taking a moment with his helmet off, leaning his arms against the counter to calm himself down taking deep breaths he learned from Danny yes okay he learned from his son when Tim and dick crash through and Jason gets a little more pissed because those assholes probably just woke up Danny!
So here’s Tim and dick wrestling with Jason to get his weapons off of him and calm him down when all of a sudden the lights flick on and there’s a little boy, around 6, with a messy mop black hair and loose space-themed pajamas, rubbing his eyes as he clearly just woke up. everyone freezes in place and Danny looks around, his eyes adjusting to the light before he looks at Jason and–
“Dad? What’s going on?” He asks so innocently with a tilt of his head. While his brothers are stunned to silence Jason shrugs them off as hard as he can (they woke up his son) and walks over to Danny. Dick and tim lurch foreward but Jason just picks up Danny and places him on his hip. Danny reaches forward and carefully pulls off his dads domino and holds it in his hand while he frowns. “Green monsters are being angry again?” And Jason just sighs with his son (his son!!) in his arms and looks at danny; dick and Tim now seeing the green almost completely gone from his eyes.
“Yeah bud. No big deal though, alright? The green monsters are all gone now. So come on, it’s past your bedtime Danny.” To which Danny groans and he turns to look at the two others in the room who are bewildered as fuck because does Jason have a kid????? W h e n?? H o w??? Okay they know how they really don’t but that’s not the point
Anyways they stand there for a minute while Jason puts Danny to bed and when Jason comes back out he stares at them in silence. Then he just *sighs* and stares them dead in the eyes “yes, I have a kid. Yes, he quiets the pit. Yes, it’s past his bedtime. And yes,” Jason cocks his gun, “you both will be getting out of my apartment. right now. Silently.”
Yeah, they guess questions can wait till tomorrow
Link to the fic :)
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flamingpudding · 10 months
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The Ghost King is my Uncle Drabbles
A/N: The original this sorta ties too: Original One Shot
>>Masterpost
Shovel Talks
Constantine swore up a storm of course only mentally. It wasn't like he was going to voice any of his thoughts right now. Not when he was faced with the good damn Ghost King. All he wanted was to summon one of his contracted demons to gather some information and what did he get the fucking Ghost King.
"Trench coat! We meet again. You worked on your manners, I hope?"
"Of course your majesty." Well he didn't but he avoided the freaking bats like crazy.
"Well I gotta thank you. Well you and my In-Law that's busy and asked me to substitute for your call since we meet and before and so on." The Ghost King casually waved his hand in a dismissive manner before looking around with his eyes sparkling in recognition and it sent a shudder down Constantine's back. "You are giving me the perfect opportunity."
Did… did the Ghost King just pull out a green glowing sword from a fucking portal and why did he have that glint in his eyes? Constantine paled. Why did this have to happen to him?
"If you will excuse me for a moment. I need to look for a Kryptonian real quick. I will deal with your problem right after. Promise."
With that the Ghost King phased through the floor apparently in search of Superman who just happened to be in the watchtower today. Fuck. Constantine run out of the room in mild panic and pushed whoever was on communication aside as he dialed for the bats. The moment someone on their end pick up he didn't bother to explain anything and just shouted for one of them to get their fucking ass here as fast as possible or superman was going to be history!
Okay that might also have sent the people witnessing his panic into chaos but this was a fucking emergency.
It was only minutes later that Batman did indeed arrived together with Nightwing and Red Robin with the Zeta-Tube at the watchtower to bear witness to Superman getting cornered by the Ghost King with Constantine bound by echo-bindings for apparently having annoyed the Ghost King with his pleading to spare the Kryptonian.
"Now I am sure I don't have to repeat myself but, IF you ever hurt Baby Bat a fate way worse than the Soul Shredder and the Nightmare Realm will be the least of your problems. The last guy that hurt my family is still in there and I will gladly make you permanently join him."
A cough resounded and Danny turned his head, a bright smile on his face as he spotted his little nephew and two of the little babies.
"Baby Bat, Baby Menace and Baby Stalker! I will be done in a little bit!"
"Ghost Ki-"
"Uncle Danny."
Batman let out a suffering sigh as Nightwing and Red Robin snickered.
"Uncle Danny. Why are you threatening Superman?"
"Because Jazz forbade me to use the Soul Shredder on humans but Superman is not human so I am allowed to use it on him."
"Uncle Danny, why do you want to use the 'Soul Shredder'" -as a joke Nightwing used air quotes- "on the him in the first place?"
"Shovel talk."
Batman chocked and Red Robin spluttered as Nightwing had a hard time suppressing a laugh. Constantine and Superman gapped at the Ghost King.
"You… are threading him for shovel talk purposes? What even is the nightmare realm?"
"A place you don't want to be in. Very traumatic and perfect to externally punish anyone that hurts my family in any regard as long as I am allowed to dump them there."
There was an added barely hearable grumble of "I would have sent the Joker and Ra's in there long ago if Clockwork weren't such a stick in the mud about keeping the timeline straight and their roles and bla bla bla."
Red Robin did a double take. Did the Ghost King just admit that he would have liked to sent their rogues into a place that was most likely hell? Wait didn't he mention sending someone in there permanently earlier.
No one noticed Superman slowly inching away from the blade still pointed at him while the Ghost King's attention wasn't on him. Well the bats noticed but didn't react to it, deeming it safer for the Super.
"Uh you said you dumped someone permanently in there?" Red Robin tried to keep the attention on them.
"Well yea." The Ghost King casually shrugged, adjusting the blade so Superman could no longer inch away from him. "I looked away from the Ice Mirrors for a week and someone dared to hurt Moma Bat. Of course I was enraged and snatched that guy off the street to permanently drop him in there."
There was a beat of heavy silence. Batman under his cowl bluescreened especially with how casually Danny just admitted at having snatched up his parents murderer to punish the man. Well that explained why he never found the culprit.
"Now If you excuse me little Babies I am gonna finish this talk with the Kryptonian and make sure he knows what will happen if he hurts Baby Bat."
With this the Ghost King turned back to the rapidly paling Superman with a feral grin. The Birds sweat dropped as Batman was still not mentally present, his mind still working through the information.
"Think I would be able to borrow that sword?" Red Robin suddenly asked as Nightwing eyed Batman worringly. "He only said that Great Grandma forbade him to use it on humans. He never said we couldn't."
"Don't let Robin or Hood hear that." Nightwing said, even if he wanted to borrow it himself too. With B mentally still checked out he had to act as the responsible one. That wouldn't stop him from asking their Ghost Uncle later if he could borrow the sword anyway.
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ardustein · 11 months
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Damian brought home another pet and Dick started to question his life choices. Again.
Reference photo is under the cut:
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spacedace · 1 year
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Like I joke about it but making memes actually does weirdly help me figure stuff out as I’m writing lol Like, I have over 5k written for next chapter/chapter after that. Memes are powerful writing tools in my arsenal I swear lol
Anywhere here have more Uncle Oz AU (Penguin adopts Jazz & Danny) memes from my trying to figure stuff out about the story today:
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damiansgrayson · 3 months
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Dick making a Two-face reference
Batman/Superman: World's Finest #1
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allineedisonedream · 4 months
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moustache time 🎅
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charlietheepicwriter7 · 6 months
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Some Business Bozo puts a hit out on Vlad. It's one of Vlad's earliest victims, back before he knew how to properly cover his tracks but there were so few metas no one knew exactly what the hell happened. BB had his entire fortune and company stolen and has spent the rest of his life building up enough fortune to hire the best assassin to murder this bastard.
Enter Slade Wilson.
Slade has recently accepted the job to kill Vlad Masters. During preliminary research, Slade discovers Daniel Masters, formerly Fenton, the godchild Vlad adopted after his family died in an accident. The godchild who despises Masters for murdering his friends and family. The godchild who is willing to sell Masters out in a heartbeat if it means being free.
The Terminator and the Ghost Boy strike a deal. Slade even grows fond of the little maniac.
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sepia-stained-sunset · 10 months
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AU where Tim forgot to tell people his uncle was a paid actor and now he's too embarrassed to own up to it, so he scrambles to rehire the actor to come to some event of Bruce's. Except the actor is unavailable.
So Tim has to hire some guy who looks nothing like the previous one and just hopes and prays that no one spots the difference.
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musicfeedsmysoul12 · 5 months
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Thinking of AiDeku. But like… soft.
Izuku who is a Quirkless analyst owns a cafe because while he makes good money he can't quite stop wanting to be the hero he dreamed of as a kid. So his little cafe gives free drinks to the homeless. He gives 50% off to people from the rehab center down the street and he hires former villains to help them get a good resume so they don’t reoffend.
He's the little hero of the community he's in. A kind word to people and a good cup of coffee goes a long way. A nice place to sit out of the rain, a safe haven for the abused kids he tries to help but CPS ignores it.
That's how he meets Aizawa. There's this purple kid who comes by every day, and the scars on his face scream muzzle. Izuku is worried about the kid, and reaches out to CPS only to learn that the kid has a ‘villain Quirk’. Izuku wants to snarl there’s no such thing.
He's upset and its noticed by people. Word gets out why and a few of the former villains decide to hunt down the one guy they think will help.
Shouta isn't sure why they're hunting him but he drops down to talk. Hearing about this guy with his cafe worried about a kid warms his heart (he was homeless for far to long himself, and knows havens like that are special.) so he goes looking. And uncovers a huge corrupt section of foster care taking payoffs to make sure villains form in shitty conditions.
Aizawa connects with Izuku then and just… he sees this guy around his age. He's got freckles and curly green hair. Scars on his arms and a burn scar on his neck. Izuku’s also got steel in his spine and does not look away as he stares Shouta down. It's attractive as hell.
The hero starts hanging around the cafe, talking. Izuku isn't an informant but plenty of former villains keep their ears to the ground and will tip off the hero. Shouta gets cards form Izuku he passes out to the desperate thieves and pickpockets who just are trying to survive. A place to work, or someone who can hook them up with a workplace.
The bond forms slowly until one day Izuku kisses Shouta and goes; Date?
It's a very firm agreement.
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edjectedly · 2 years
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New Dynamics, Go!
Disclaimer: This is an AU, I don’t respect canon and I am not going to pretend to :)
First << Prev Next >>
I have decided that this is actually Battinson and that if he had raised Dick, Dick would definitely have more of a sibling relationship with him.
Jason:
Tim:
Jason:
Tim:
Batman: so…. you’re brothers now…. ifyouneedanythingaskDick
Batman: *sprints out of the room*
Tim: isn’t Dick back in Blüdhaven?
Jason: yup
Tim: does he do this often?
Jason: yup
Tim: so…. wanna see how I hacked into the Batcomputer?
Jason: of course
~Bonus~
Dick: Bruce. you. can’t. just. leave. them. alone. they’re little!
Batman: but I left you by yourself
Dick: I regularly fell off chandeliers! I shouldn’t have been left alone!
Batman: I thought you were happy….
Dick: oh my- I was happy, but kids need supervision. it’s impor-
Jason at the same time as Tim: Tim sat the Batcave on fire!
Tim at the same time as Jason: Jason sat the Batcave on fire!
Dick: it’s made out of rocks?????
Batman: my kids are so talented
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