#According to Steph

[rite-the-wrongs]

So there probably aren’t DC Superhero movies in the DC universe, right? Like there would just be a ton of legal issues or they would remind people of that tragic event where half of a major city died, right?

Well I propose that there is a single franchise that features the DC superheroes in their universe. And that would be the Lego movies. It starts with some executive featuring them to show how big the threat is when Superman gets taken out with chewing gum. Then it morphs into Batman being the edgy-lancer-ex-boyfriend to Emmet and Wyldstyle.

Of course when Bruce Wayne hears about this, he decided to have a field day. It’s a close decision, but between Bruce and Will Arnett, Bruce wins the role of Batman in the movie.

It is a struggle, but he manages to hide it from most of his kids, only Tim and Barbara finding out and immediately deciding to help with this train wreck. The real struggle is convincing his kids to go to the red carpet premiere with him.

The second Batman is on the screen, his kids all turn to him. The looks on their faces range from horror to overwhelming joy to completely done with his shit.

[mantimae]

The Oracle’s hand.

[yall-send-help]

THEY HIT THE TOWER

THEY HIT THE SECOND TOWER

THEY HIT THE PENTAGON

[necrotic-nephilim]

there is not enough femslash in batcest circles. the girls deserve to be just as weird about each other as the boys are. if BruDick gets to be weird father/son/brothers/lovers/friends/rivals/soulmates then it is only fair that Babs/Cass get to be mother/daughter/sisters/lovers too. Something about that deep intrinsic but undefinable love that is born out of trauma, especially if you consider Cass not knowing what healthy love looks like in the first place. i think it's fun and deserves just as much fandom content.

besides that, you can get even more niche with rarepairs like Helena/Steph. Huntress/Spoiler: Blunt Trauma is already a fantastic comic and even though it's their only real canon interaction it has so much potential. very comparable to TimJay in how Helena tries to get Steph to understand her morals and the corruption you could play with it.

batman: huntress/spoiler: blunt trauma (1998)

that comic also highlights on how both Steph and Helena are outcasts of the Batfamily and don't have the approval of Bruce to be doing what they do in "his city". I think there's so much Potential in Helena taking Steph under her wing because Bruce won't let her in and it becomes a weird codependent toxic sapphic mess. I think the protectiveness Helena feels over Steph from the get-go is so clear and the way she wants to look out for Steph, wants to make sure Steph understands the real world? I love them. Helena should be allowed to steal Steph, actually. I think it'd be fun.

there are a lot of other possibilities too like Babs/Steph or even getting weird with Helena Bertinelli/Helena Wayne and the existential question of "is it selfcest or not." But these two specifically live in my head rent-free, especially Helena/Steph and one day I'll convince everyone else to ship it too.

[bobbinalong]

little brother.

[cologona]

Bruce designed the Batman costume to evoke the look of Golden Age vigilantes and reinforced the trunks to function as both groin protection and a hip harness.

Having seen Dick's parents fall to their deaths and his own parents die from gunshots, he designed the Robin costume to consist of a leotard that would function as a full harness and a vest that offered additional protection to vital organs. 

Later versions of their costumes got better materials and more seamless reinforcements which allowed for sleeker design- advancements that the Nightwing costume made full use of when Dick struck out on his own. 

After Jason's death, the Robin costume is redesigned, sacrificing flexibility in favor of more protection. The pixie shoes are swapped for boots, and Tim wears the leggings without complaint.

Nightwing's costume doesn't adopt the changes made to the Robin costume of course. He favors mobility the most out of all of them, and he's his own hero now.

Tim -much like Bruce- is a martial artist before he is any kind of acrobat or urban escape artist. The Red Robin suit he eventually dons is functionally nearly identical to Batman's.

[sketchywhale]

So, I haven't had time to do pretty much anything the last two weeks, but thankfully yesterday a large chunk of my family was over so I had time to start on these guys. Chibis have never been my strength and these are far from done, but I found some good references and I wanted to try some and figured why not do it with the batsibs?

I need to fix Jason big time and Damian and Dick's hair isn't my favorite, but I'll try tweaking them, but Duke was hard to find any reference for that didn't just give him a buzzcut and Damian's type of hair has always been a nightmare for me. As for Tim, just ignore that abomination, only thing I could say that I enjoyed was I couldn't find a good skin tone for him that was pale enough so I paint bucketed him with low opacity white paint fill and couldn't stop chuckling cause I painted him like a drag queen.

[mla0]

[Patsteph anon] What really bums me about not having Vin & Steph interactions is that they could’ve been really interesting foils to each other. You actively see Stephanie trying to force herself to forget what’s happening to her, and seems to see her isolation & dissociation as a way of protecting herself and those around her— there’s a post I believe where she just straight up tells people who’ve been “infected” to not think about it to stay safe. Then there’s Vinnie who throws people under the bus at his own & everyone else’s detriment for the sake for the sake of finding the truth. They would’ve been at each others THROATS and I’m so emo about it.

IT COULD HAVE BEEN SO GOOOOOOOOD. It could have been an amazing dynamic between the two, god. Imagining the story of EMH but with something trying to push him in a different direction from the background could've been really interesting.... and he would've hated every second of it, too. He would've put her in such a bad light to try to distance himself and keep his image safe from what she already knows about him, and she would only get angrier and angrier as he sinks further into his own vices

[flower-sniffing-friend]

Jaysteph Tangled Au where jason is rapunzel and steph is eugene

[mush-dooms]

WHY DID I DO THAT

[vonlipvig]

ok, now that i finished veep s4 i'm taking a little mid series hiatus to stop me from watching everything in one sitting.

but my friend and i are binging the traitors, so i'm def being kept entertained! watched two eps already and OOH i love me some high stakes mafia! (and of course WE <3 CIRIE)

[cephalog0d]

(Arthur should thank every deity they're is that she met Batman, honestly.)

One of the most frustrating things about the common "Tim only thinks murder is wrong because of Batman" misconception is... No, that's Steph. That's literally Steph.

If Tim Drake never met Batman, Tim would still believe that killing people is wrong. It's a foundational part of his morality, he literally came to Bruce hoping to stop him from reaching that point of no return (or the one where he works himself into an early grave).

If Stephanie Brown never met Batman, she'd have killed a bitch by now. Probably her father.

[galaxymagitech]

Bruce’s Favorite Batkid…according to the Batkids (aka the most biased narrators possible):

Dick: “Well, Bruce adopted Jason first, and hit me over his death, so Jason, obviously.”

Tim: “Bruce nearly killed people and himself over Jason’s death…he just used me as a guilt trip.”

Jason: “Uh, the Golden Boy, obviously. *cough* KGBeast *cough*”

Steph: “I mean, he only revived one of us…so it’s gotta be Damian, right?”

Duke: “Can you guys stop competing over whose death he reacted the worst to? Anyway Barbara’s so useful with the tech and also kinda scary, so it’s gotta be her.”

Damian: “Drake is most similar to Father and inherits his company. He is clearly in the favored position.”

Barbara: “He remembers literally every problem you guys have caused; Duke just hasn’t had the chance to cause as many problems yet. No offense, Duke.”

Cass: “Me. He thinks…I am him. He is wrong.”

No one thinks Steph is the favorite.

[timmydraker]

Tim who does crochet.

It’s Dick who is given the first gift, long before Tim is Robin and even before he knows who Robin is.

It was simply because he was a kind kid who had been there to witness something horrible and wanted to comfort the poor boy he saw sobbing off two lost loved ones.

Little Tim walked up to Dick with the crochet elephant that was admittedly a little funky looking and held it up to him without making eye contact. He had hidden the small plushie from his parents lest they disapprove of his hobby, just like they did with drawing and skating.

Dick had beamed happily and held onto the toy, saying it was so cute and how Tim should be so happy to have it.

Tim had frowned and shook his head, “It’s for you, Mister Grayson. It’s Tifa.”

Never had Tim seen someone so in awe of his creation as he did in that moment and it made him beam just like Dick had been.

Once Dick took the little elephant into his hands Tim had bolted away.

Bruce was next, being gifted a big fluffy jumper on his first birthday after loosing Jason. It was a soft, light green with too long sleeves that went over his ass. It was big, far too big, and thick enough that it might even be too hot in autumn.

He didn’t wear it for a while, mainly because he ignored the big wrapped present Tim had left in his room out of guilt and shame and even a little frustration.

When he opened it up he put it on and promptly broke down, finding the feeling more similar to a hug than he thought something non-hug could get.

He wore it in front of Tim once to show he appreciated it and then wore it whenever he was injured.

Steph got a few things, mainly tops and one big blanket that he gave her after they reconnected when she came back. It had been his way of saying he forgave her and wanted to be her friend again without using words.

Cass got a big poncho with a hood that was rainbow, bright and loud while still capable of hiding her when she felt she couldn’t be seen.

It took a long time for him to make Jason anything after he came back. When he did, him and Tim avoided each other for over a year until Tim overheard Alfred talking to Bruce about how sad it was to not see his two bright boys getting along.

Alfred had been pouring tea with the pot he made a kettle warmer snug with Lilly of the Vally on it when he said it.

So, Tim had searched through his old photos of Jason’s Robin and made himself recall those old ideals and awe. He made himself remember what Jason also had ripped from him and, while it wouldn’t change or excuse how Jason had brutalised him, it made him understand him more.

He decided that instead of joining to Jason and having a heart to heart, that he should do what all bats did and start off without saying a thing.

He makes Jason a blanket that took him over a month of a floral book cover of Jane Ire.

Tim was relived when it was done and simply left it laid out on Jason’s bed in his latest hideout with a note that said,

“I know little about Jane Ire, maybe you could tell me about it sometime?

~ Tim. D.”

Jason had sent him a text a day later to say he could send him a copy with his annotations if he wanted.

It wasn’t long after Tim had read the book, taking twice as long with all the notes Jason had left in it, that he was then left to make something for Damian.

Naturally, he didn’t want to at first.

Also naturally, he got bored and wanted to make another animal after seeing Tifa again. She was cute, but a little munted with age.

He took one look at Titus and promptly made a plan to create him with crochet. He wanted to give it to Bruce after he was done, but he’s only an asshole when he finds it entertaining.

At heart, he’s a kind boy, so he gives it to Damian.

When he gets an actual, verbal thank you from the new Robin, he makes Alfred the Cat and Ace, then finally Bat-cow and Goliath.

The best thing he’s made, according to Duke, is Signals first ever fan made merch that he wears nearly all the time.

Kate says that wrong because the leg warmers he made for winter patrols have apparently saved her life.

Salina would say it’s actually the cat pawed mittens he made her when he was twelve and never told Bruce about.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Yo dabbles! Any chance we can get another chapter of Summoned Demon please?? I love the misunderstandings.

Bruce tracks down the demon to one of Joker's old hideouts, figuring that it would gravitate to locations where large amounts of violence and fear had been ingrained in the ground. He was already en route to the area when Babs had radioed in the encounter with the two other kidnapped male teenagers- Liam Ayton and Frederek Furey.

It seemed Frederek had fainted after the demon had fallen from the sky in front of them, bringing with it the unsettling feeling and horrific language. Raven had claimed that it was a familiar thing high-level demons did to humans- their very presence was uncanny enough, it set off every survival instinct in the human mind. There was no real reason to suspect a disguised high-level demon, but humans were still always able to sense that something was seriously wrong when one was near - the dread was almost always unbearable.

Bruce would have claimed that the demon they were chasing could only affect untrained people, but he had felt the unease himself back at the cave when the demon had made eye contact with him. The only one who seemed not to be overly affected by its presence was the young lady, Molly Evergreen, but John claimed it was because the girl had magic in her blood, even if she could not wield it.

Magic gave humans a slight shield.

On the other side of the scale, Frederek's blood was as closed off to magic as possible and thus made him highly vulnerable to the demon's presence. Worse, Frederek's reaction was far more extreme this time than when the demon was first summoned, which, according to Phantom Stranger and Madame Xanadu, only indicated that the demon was somehow getting stronger.

Madame Xanadu theorized that it was why the demon was visiting all his sacrifices - it was gaining power from them. Since it hadn't just taken them, it was also likely trying to see which among the offerings was the best deal. Right now, Frederek was the highest, due to the intense fear he reacted with.

Fear made the demons stronger.

They could use Frederek as bait, if it came down to it.

Unfortunately, this was the first time the boy had been out of his house since the kidnapping two days ago, and it had taken Liam hours to convince him to walk down the street for a simple ice cream.

At least that's what Liam reported as the paramedics looked over Frederek. Bruce couldn't ask Frederek to be the lure, not after the traumatic event had such a profound effect on him.

And Bruce was starting to suspect that the demon wasn't trying to be harmful. It could help that humans' natural instincts were put off by its aura. Bruce had felt that the demon acted too much like a scared child, even if every member of the Justice League Dark (plus Raven and Diana) all claimed that it was just trying to trick him.

Bruce was smart enough to know he was no expert in this field, so he had no right to doubt them, but... something just felt off about what it's done so far.

Duke was already on the scene, alongside Steph, getting interviews from the witnesses present. Like all witness reports, the significant events were similar, but a few details differed among them. There seemed to be two groups: one who claimed the demon boy had been scared away by the large crowd, and another who claimed the demon boy had left after it failed to take Federek's soul, having left due to boredom.

Bruce had latched onto the part where the demon had found a nearby poster- the kind of posters that people put up to remind kids to be careful while crossing the street, since the ice cream shop was so close to the elementary school, and pointed to the line "Call 911 if you have an emergancy!"

To him, it sounded like the demon had left because it had gotten what it wanted- medical assistance.

Pulling up to the old amusement park, Bruce jumped out of the Batmobile, programming it to find itself on standby in case he needed to make a quick getaway. The amusement park closed down long ago, but the owners never bothered to clean up, leaving behind half-crumpled rides and overgrown weeds as the only reminders. Bruce himself only visited the park once in its glory days - his parents had taken him there for his seventh birthday - but spent a lot of time here as a teenager.

As always, the Park felt unnerving; rumor had it that the reason the park owners had to close down was due to the large number of hauntings that plagued the business. As a teenager, Bruce would be dared by various classmates to spend the night; it was almost a rite of passage among Gothimantes to attempt to conquer the whole night. And even then, Bruce had felt something off about this place.

Then the Joker took it over, and the feeling not only intensified, but the amusement park grew increasingly dangerous due to the living conditions. No one bothers coming in here now, even with the Joker behind bars.

Bruce glances around, searching for any clues of the demon, feeling eyes prickling him from all corners of the amusement park. The Waynes and Kanes weren't ones for magic, but he had trained his body to increase its awareness of the paranormal just in case.

He would never have the gift like Ms. Molly, but he knew multiple eyes were on him. From where, from whom, were questions beyond his reach, but Bruce knew they were there.

Though he also knew that they weren't strong enough to physically affect the living world, and thus, he didn't need to worry about them. He did notice that the feeling was far more intense from the direction of the amusement park, in the same way he could sense multiple wolves hiding in the woods.

Bruce turned his head in that direction, noticing that a few of the weeds had been crushed in that area. Moving over, he crouches low, running his hand against the concrete, finding different shades of dirt than those of the surroundings lingering on the cracked, grey ground.

These were the fresh tracks, and they led all the way to the Fun House, where he sensed the strongest feeling of forboding.

The demon was inside. He narrows his eyes in thought, considering the laughing clown head. His hand hovers over his magic flair- a stone strapped to his belt that, when he tapped four times, would send out a signal to all the stones connected to the runes engraved into it.

Raven had handed them over to the team when they all split up to cover more ground. Apparent Demons may affect regular communications, as devices suddenly malfunction in their presence, as Babs proved when all the street cameras in areas where they suspected the demon was present started to glitch.

All Bruce had to do was call backup, and the Justice League Dark would be here in the snap of a finger. They would be able to capture the demon and put it back in a cage within an hour (If they caught it before it got back to its full power)

Bruce thought about the blurry videos of the demon—the boy—waiting in the police interrogation room, sipping water and waiting patiently. The way it fought to get Frederek medical attention. It had multiple chances to steal those poor sacrificial kids the cultist took, but did nothing but attempt to speak to them.

Mostly Bruce thought about the way the demon-the boy- looked when he realized he as in a cage inside the Batcave.

His wide eyes, which may have made Bruce feel like he was on the verge of madness, could not hide the way the demon had now appeared as a lost little boy, now that he was able to process the scene without his emotions or first instincts getting in the way.

Bruce's hand fell to his side as he strode over to the Funhouse carefully. He might be a fool, but he became Batman to protect children from the darkness of this city, and not being human wouldn't stop him from keeping his promise as Batman.

The feeling of foreboding increased with each step he took. The temperature was dropping the closer he got to the Funhouse, almost as if he stepped into a walk-in refrigerator. He was grateful that he had had the foresight to make his suit equipped for the temperature drop after the many fights with Freeze, even if he felt more and more spirits becoming aware of him.

Eventually, he found himself in front of the door, pushing it open slowly. The old thing creaked loudly, almost jarring with the way it echoed in the otherwise silent amusement park. The feeling of danger, fear, and death blew out of the doorway as if those were clouds of smoke.

Bruce clamped down on every ounce of his training to prevent himself from reacting to the avalanche of survival instincts screaming at him to run. Instead, he forced himself to focus his gaze inside and found the demon sitting cross-legged in the center of the room, scribbling on the ground with a piece of burned charcoal.

Behind him were smoldering barrels - he had set them on fire to make his writing utensil, it seemed.

His face was smeared with black stains, alongside his hands and clothes, but he didn't seem to care as he carefully studied a propped-up book near his knee. Bruce remained where he was, watching the demon flip through the page, seemingly unaware he was there.

Oddly, the demon squinted at the pages as if he could make heads or tails of it, glancing over his shoulders, and speaking in that familiarly unnervering language of his to the empty spaces. Then he carefully wrote on the floor, squinting even harder, sticking out his tongue as he concentrated.

The action was so human that Bruce knew he had made the right choice, not calling the others.

The demon's handwriting was atrocious, scraping against the stone floor in loud scraping sounds, as he unevently formed the letters. Bruce felt like he was watching a toddler trying desperately to learn to write.

The demon just finished his last letter before his head snapped up, and he locked eyes with Bruce's mask lens. At once, the green of its eyes invaded his mind as screaming started up in the far corners of Bruce's mind. His instincts weren't just screaming anymore, they were howling, begging, ripping themselves apart just to get away from the demon.

Just as he was about to take a step back, Bruce willed everything he had ever learned from the Tibetan monks to help him break out of the fear-induced gaze, forcing his body to uncoil and glance down at the words.

They were upside down, so with careful, slightly sluggy steps, Bruce walked forward. It feels a lot like he was walking through honey, but he keeps his eyes down, away from the demon-child's until he crotches down in front of the black marks, and they turn into wobbly writing he can read.

I need help. I am a child, and I've been kidnapped by cultists. I just want to go home. I'm scared.

Bruce glances up at the child, only to find the demon has scrambled to a corner of the room, pressing himself desperately against the wall, staring at him with evident fear on his young face. It was almost as if Batman were the demon appearing in front of a young human.

Good heavens, how did he ever doubt that fear was a lie?

"You're safe now. I swear to you." He says in the steadiest voice he can muster while holding out a hand to help the boy off the ground. "You're safe."

The demon's green eyes flicker to the space near Bruce's right, before he uncoils a little. Hesitantly, the boy climbs to his feet, slowly getting closer to him. He opens his mouth, letting out that horrid sound hissing again, and Bruce hears his mother's scream behind his eyes as well as screams of strangers, but he refuses to react.

He can control when his heart stops; he can also force it to slow down and keep himself calm. The boy kept looking to the right, as if seeking comfort from it - must be a ghost of a human soul.

Suddenly, the boy launches himself at Bruce, grabbing onto him with a gasping cry, hiding his face in the Bat Symbol. Bruce wraps his arms around the boy, feeling his heart clench.

"You're safe." He repeats softly.

For a minor second, in the corner of his eye, Bruce swears he sees the outline of a man and a woman. The woman's face is half hidden behind a hand; he can't make out her other features, but the man's self-satisfied smirk is familiar.

The pair is gone as quickly as they came, but Bruce swears he just saw Tom Wayne, his great-grandfather's younger brother. He was one of Bruce's first cold cases that he solved as Batman, and sometimes he swore his great-great-uncle liked to follow him around Gotham when he patrols.

But he was never sure, after all, Bruce doesn't have the natural talent to sense the paranormal. Just his human survival instincts ramped up to their highest degree on command. All those times he felt his Tom around could have just been his mind playing tricks on him due to the side effects of anxiety that came with forcing his body to ramp up said instincts.

The nearby book fell over, and Bruce realized it was a dictionary by the brief flash of the cover before it slid right in front of him, open wide.

The first word he sees is "Storge"

[athenalvss]

SECRET LANGUAGE ( circus! batmom )

summary: Batmom and Dick have a different connection than with the rest of the family, they even have their own language, causing the rest of the family to become exasperated.

pairing: batmom x batfam

open request — batmom masterlist

Although Batmom loves and protects all members of the Batfam equally, she shares a special bond with Dick Grayson. It wasn't about favoritism or privilege —there never was— there was simply something different about the connection between them. And while the rest of the kids understood (more or less), that didn't stop them from raising a fuss whenever something clearly exclusive happened between batmom and Dick. How dare they have inside jokes about their past lives right in front of them? Give each other those silent glances that sparked entire conversations without saying a word? It was outrageous!

Except for Bruce, he had given up a few years ago, he could never win his wife, and he wasn't trying either.

── .✦

Between them, they have a sort of visual code developed over the years: raised eyebrows, half-winks, tapping the table... any excuse to silently mock some absurd situation. The rest of the Batfam pretends not to notice, but they're fed up. How could they be left out of this?

That's why everyone was there gathered in one of the rooms of the big Wayne manor, well... "everyone" is a way of saying, everyone was there except you, Bruce and Dick, but the rest of the family was there sitting on the armchairs while they watched Tim enter with his computer.

Tim walked into the room with a confident stride, and with a satisfied smile, he projected the image, showing his hard work. "Welcome to the secret meeting of the marginalized children" he reached the center of the room, causing everyone to look at him, leaving a PowerPoint presentation titled "Spy Project: Sign Language According to Batmom" in the background.

"Does it have an index?" Steph asked, already taking mental notes.

"Of course it has an index" Tim replied, opening the first slide. "Section one: The gestures. Section two: The looks. Section three: Revenge on Dick."

"Shouldn't we call Bruce too?" Duke asked, a hint of hesitation in his voice.

"Bruce? Bruce gave up years ago," Jason said. "And he can't help, he doesn't even try to guess what they're saying."

Tim changed the slide. A slow-motion video showed a kitchen scene from two weeks ago: you, pouring coffee; Dick, leaning on the island; both of you shooting each other a quick glance… followed by a synchronized laugh. No one else was laughing. Just the two of you.

"See that? That was a complete, wordless joke! Wordless!" Tim exclaimed, pointing the laser pointer at the screen.

"And right after, Dick told me he was laughing at the dog on the news. Blatant lie!" Jason shouted indignantly.

Just as Tim was getting into the most important part of his analysis—a slide titled “The Raised Eyebrow: Criticism or Mockery?”—the door softly opened.

"And what are you all doing together? I like it, but it's weird," you asked with a relaxed smile, walking in with several recyclable paper bags in your arms.

Dick appeared right behind you, also laden with bags, and said with disarming ease "We went to get things for dinner. Mom wanted to make her lasagna, you know…"

The entire room froze. Everyone stared at the projector screen, which was still showing a snapshot of the two of you in what appeared to be an intense telepathic conversation during a gala.

Jason was the first to react, standing up from the chair with his arms raised. "I TOLD YOU WE HAD TO GO SOMEWHERE ELSE."

"What's all this?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dick looked at the screen, then at the group, then at you. "Were we being spied on?"

"Spying is a very hard word, it's just a deep analysis of your gestural conspiracy," Tim exclaimed normally.

"We call it... emotional connection" you said, calmly putting down the bags.

"And we call it 'betrayal,'" Damian muttered, arms crossed, visibly hurt.

"It's not treason if we've always been like this," Dick added with a smile.

"That doesn't make it better!" they all shouted at the same time.

You and Dick looked at each other. Raised eyebrow. Smile. And then you burst out laughing without saying anything.

Jason covered his face with his hands. "Of course they're doing it again. In our faces. No shame whatsoever."

Bruce watched silently from the stairs, nursing a cup of coffee. "I told you not to try to decipher it."

── .✦

The Wayne Manor dining room table was, as always, a battlefield disguised as a family dinner.

"You have to accept that Red Hood is a better public figure than you!" Jason bellowed, pointing his fork at Tim, who barely dodged it.

"Public figure? Please, your reputation is half a step away from an arrest warrant," Tim replied quietly, but with venom in every word.

"Tch. He's got it, Pathetic," Damian muttered from his spot, not even looking at the others, busy cutting his steak with surgical precision.

Bruce sighed. He said nothing, as usual. Alfred, stoic, poured more water with the elegance of someone who has seen a thousand wars at that table and survived them all. Amid all that noise, you leaned back a little in her chair and looked at Dick, who was sitting across the table. He wore a stoic expression, but when he felt your gaze, he raised his eyes. And then it happened: that knowing look.

It was barely a second. A meeting of eyes with a restrained smile, a slightly raised eyebrow on your part, and a slight nod from him. A silent gesture that said:

"Same thing again?"

"Always the same."

They both held back their laughter at the same time, as if they'd rehearsed it. No more need be said.

"Are you laughing at us?" Damian snapped, his fork in the air.

"No," you and Dick replied, perfectly in sync.

"Here we go again..." Tim muttered, "This isn't normal!"

"We're not doing this on purpose," they both said, again, at the same time.

Jason brought his napkin to his face. "Okay, this is disturbing."

"Have you been practicing?" Steph asked.

"No" you said in unison, and this time they looked at each other immediately after, holding back their laughter.

"Enough!" Tim shot up from his seat. "They literally have a secret script! It's like they share a neural chip!"

Alfred, unperturbed, poured more water. "I must say, master Tim, this has been going on for so many years that I'm surprised you're still alarmed."

"Thank you, Alfred," both said at the same time, without even looking at each other.

Bruce sighed and muttered, more to himself than to anyone else, "I never had a chance to fight."

Damian, arms crossed and looking annoyed, grunted. "This is unbelievable."

"No," Jason said, "It's a cult, and we're not part of it."

Dick shrugged at the same time as you. "We're not that predictable," you chorused.

and in unison they all shouted: "YOU SAID IT AGAIN!"

── .✦

It was a quiet night. Miraculously quiet. Everyone was sitting in the living room, no missions or alarms. Even Bruce was relaxed—relatively so—with a glass of wine in his hand. It was one of those family reunion nights they had every Friday night.

Tim was lounging on a beanbag with his laptop, Jason was flipping through a magazine without really reading, Damian was trying to teach chess to Steph, who was just moving the pieces around to annoy him. Alfred was passing by with a tray of cookies, ignoring the chaos with his trademark dignity.

But on the main couch, away from the rest, Bruce, Dick, and Batmom were surrounded by photo albums. They'd started under the guise of "organizing memories," but had clearly fallen into a nostalgic spiral.

Suddenly, a photo caught my eye: You were younger in that image, dressed in your iconic illusionist outfit, black top hat, black and white suit, with a shiny cape that reflected the light, and Dick, barely ten years old, in a tiny trapeze artist's outfit, smiling as he hung from a rope. The image showed a moment in the circus, when they were a different family, before Bruce came into their lives.

"It was fun living in the circus," you looked at the photos with a touch of nostalgia. "Except when the tiger escaped."

Dick immediately burst out laughing. "That was just one time! And technically, he didn't run away…"

"It's true, he didn't escape, you let him out."

The laughter shared between the two of you filled the room like an echo from the past. Bruce watched you with a mixture of curiosity and resignation.

"Were you always like this?" he asked, half joking, half serious.

"So how?" you asked with feigned innocence, while sharing a quick glance with Dick.

Bruce frowned as he watched from his seat, confused. "Was that a sign?"

"No," you and Dick answered in unison, with the same smile, that tone that made it clear it wasn't the first time they'd done it.

Bruce sighed. "But what does that tap on the arm just now mean?"

"Nothing" you said again, while Dick tried not to laugh.

"Liars" Bruce said with a resigned smile.

Then, very slowly, Bruce raised both eyebrows, tapped the table, and looked directly at Dick. There was a second of silence. Dick looked at him, you looked at him. And you both blinked, surprised.

"I've been practicing," Bruce said, with a hint of satisfaction.

"You did well, darling," patting him gently on the arm that was around your shoulders.

At that moment, from across the room:

"What's going on now?!" Jason yelled, throwing up his arms as if he'd just been betrayed.

"Bruce speaks your secret language too!?" Tim almost choked on his popcorn.

"This is... unacceptable," Damian muttered, squinting.

"Welcome to the club," Dick said, raising his glass to Bruce.

"They'll never understand," you whispered in Bruce's ear, smiling.

"I know. And it's glorious," he replied, his expression completely serene as chaos erupted around him.