#batfam christmas stocking

[ashoss]

stephanie & bruce fic recs

for @peachie-wren13 :DD

Permutations & Hinterlands - cabezas_de_vaca

steph & bruce

7.5k words, 1 chapter

summary:

She and Bruce are complicated (not bad complicated, not wrong complicated, just complicated, because he isn’t her father and will never be her father and yet he sort of also is) but he cares. It gets lost sometimes, under the demands of Gotham, but it’s there.

And so, she just asks him. “Do you want to go to Colorado with me?”

Or: Bruce, Steph, and a road trip

* heed the tags !! angsty

dont wanna long post this so more under the cut :)

sweet child o’ mine - Nokomis

steph & bruce, steph & alfred

4,4k words, 1 chapter

Summary:

Steph said cheerfully, “Bruce, from now on, consider yourself in possession of one Steph-mom.”

“Absolutely not,” Bruce said.

Steph took a bite of her cake, undeterred.

A Softer Gotham - Hinn_Raven (series)

steph & bruce, time travel

12.2k words, 3 works

summary: One night makes all the difference. Especially a night when Stephanie Brown, in the wrong dimension, interferes in a mugging.

though your eyes will need some time to adjust - popsunner

steph & bruce

4.4k words, 1 chapter

summary:

“I think…” Stephanie takes a deep breath, “I think I’m bad.”

“I don’t.”

“So what, I’m just supposed to believe you?”

“I am Batman.”

Stephanie snorts, “Yeah, you are… but what if I’m still bad?”

“Then I forgive you.” _______

Or: Stephanie and Bruce, figuring it out

Tuck Me In - OberonBronze

bruce & his kids (big on jason, but it does have cute scene w the other ones esp steph)

14.1k words, 1 chapter

summary:

Bruce Wayne and his long-standing habit of tucking his kids into bed.

Galas Suck - dottie_dc (dottie_wan_kenobi)

steph & bruce

1.9k words, 1 chapter

summary:

When she doesn’t respond, he looks down to her face, finding her staring in the direction of the doors they came in through. “Something on your mind?”

He’s really asking, why did you come and get me? If it’s just nerves, she would’ve been better off with one of the others. No, it must be something else.

Steph blinks, turning her gaze upwards. Never one to back down, she meets his eyes long enough for him to see she’s not in any distress, at least. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbles. “Everything. Nothing.”

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

Written for the Gen Batfam Christmas Stocking 2019, for the prompt "Wayne Gala"

the early robin gets the worm - deargalileo

bruce & his kids

7k words, 1 chapter

summary:

bruce loves all of his children equally. its just when he has to wake them up, that there's an issue.

aka; the five times bruce tries to wake up his kids, and the one time that he doesn't.

DON’T YOU CRY, DRY YOUR EYES. - orpheusaki

steph & bruce

4.8k words, 1 chapter

summary:

After inhaling her food before Bruce's even halfway through his vanilla milkshake, Stephanie seems to have sobered up a little. She's looking less green, and more like she's trying to develop x-ray vision and look into Bruce's soul.

Or maybe she's still drunk, because she very suddenly and very bluntly tells him, "I used to wish you were my dad," drowning her chips into a little pot of ketchup.

Bruce pauses. He slowly drops the chicken nugget he was about to put in his mouth — since now is probably not the time to complain about how the nuggets are a little dry today.

(Bruce Wayne is not Stephanie Brown's father, not at all.)

*tbh anything by orpheusaki is gonna be an amazing read, ive loved all the fics ive read by them <333

Have I Told You About Minnie? - Hinn_Raven

steph & bruce, bruce & his kids

4.6k words, 1 chapter

summary:

After you’ve known Matches Malone long enough, you get used to him telling you about his kids. Not that his kids know about it.

too young to be taken seriously, too old to believe all this hypocrisy - Hinn_Raven

steph & jason & bruce

5.7k words, 1 chapter

summary:

When Crystal Brown goes into rehab, leaving Stephanie in the sole custody of her father, Steph decides to run away from home, and meets Jason Todd, who decides that she is the best little sister ever.

or:

"the dark knight is beaten up by children on the anniversary of his parents death... tragic"

theres not a lot of steph and bruce fics and it makes me sad :((

btw i have a google doc with a shitttttt ton of fics lol. its some recs ive been asked for so hope yall enjoy :)

[lurkinglurkerwholurks]

Jason's First Christmas

First posted: December 17, 2018

Focuses on: Jason Todd et al

Favorite bookmark: "The many Christmases of Jason. Parts will make you sob, but the ending is worth it."

Tier: In the bottom half of all metrics

This is my “behind the scenes” series where I indulge myself horribly by annotating my fics. Link to the fic itself above. Thoughts below the cut.

I'm super fond of this one. It was my first time joining a Christmas stocking fic exchange, and I plucked this one from my friend @starknjarvis27's wishlist (and was suuuuuuper nervous about the reception in addition to the idea of the exchange as a whole.)

To quote my own intro note: Created to fill Cylobaby27's BatFam Christmas Stocking prompt "Jason’s first Christmas back at the manor." When writing this fic, I could only remember "Jason's first Christmas" and was too lazy to look up the details/made a deliberate artistic choice, so I decided to hit all the bases. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Listen, when your brain serves up like five opening lines at once, you gotta write the scenes worthy of those lines.

Speaking of, let me jump out of order a minute and make you look at them all lined up together:

(1) It was Jason’s first Christmas without Willis, and though he didn’t know it yet, it was the beginning of the end. (2) It was Jason’s first Christmas at the Manor. A new beginning. (3) It was Jason’s first Christmas back in Gotham, and he still wasn’t sure if he was living in a recycled beginning or an overextended ending. (4) It was Jason’s first Christmas sober. That was what it felt like anyways. He could still feel the Pit just beneath his skin, like an itch on his arch of his foot with his shoe still on. The pull was still there. The urge to lash out. To run wild. To destroy. The temptation remained. But he was resisting. Maybe, finally, this was his fresh start. Maybe this was his new beginning. (and then the very last line of part 5 and the fic as a whole) It was Jason’s first Christmas back at the Manor, and it was only the end of a new beginning.

I'm poetic as heck.

They’d lost the apartment. Lost the janky little fourth-hand dresser that had held all Jason’s clothes. Lost the fridge that rattled like an airliner coming in for a landing. Lost the couch with its busted springs and his name sharpied under the left seat cushion. Lost anything that couldn’t be stuffed into a trash bag or slung over their shoulders.

It is both a trial and a joy to figure out how to stage a space. To not only puzzle through the logistics of what they might plausibly have had and lost but also what you, the reader, might need to know about and what Jason would have thought about and mourned—things that were his, things that represented his basic needs and his former security that those needs would be met.

Jason wrapped the scarf, his present to her, around her neck as gently as he could manage. The plaid fabric was itchy, but it was warm, and that’s all he had cared about as he smuggled it out of the thrift store under his shirt.

This is a gift that made sense in logistics and characterization and need but also I think I stole it from the American Girl Addy Christmas book. Doesn't she give her hardworking mom a scarf?

Jason still jumped every time the butler said his name. The old man was too quiet, and his mustache was judgey. Jason pivoted on the ball of his foot, turning slowly until he was facing Alfred.

New kids being suspicious of Alfred's mustache is a running theme.

Bruce was sick? Bad sick? Vomiting could mean all kinds of stuff, and a high fever could be real bad, right? Like, hospital bad. Like, brain damage bad. Jason’s palms suddenly felt slick, and he wiped them on his pants as he said, “I didn’t know he was sick. Is he okay? Did a doctor take a look at him?” What if something happened to Bruce? What would happen to Jason? Did that make him an awful person, worrying about himself when Bruce was in danger? Oh god, he was an awful person, grouching over a late Christmas when Bruce was upstairs barfing his brains out.

Turns out! Having no safety net! Or reliable access to standard care! And watching your mom die slowly! Messes with a kid's anxieties when it comes to preventable illness!

Jason felt another flicker of panic at the base of his throat. Bruce looked awful. He was still a huge dude, but he looked small in that big bed with his hair all flat and sweaty and dark circles under his eyes. He looked nothing like Jason’s mom. And yet.

I really should do more with the various kids' uncertainties and insecurities their first few months/years in the Manor. I've leaned on Tim's a lot, but I should play with the rest more.

“Is this a chick flick?” Jason asked dubiously. The movie did not look promising. Sure, the guy had a sword, but the biggest image was of a lady in a tiara. And it was about a princess getting married. Bruce choked back a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “You were so close to asking the right question there, Jay. Trust me on this one, okay? It’s the best sick-day movie.”

There was no other option. None.

Next to him, Bruce chuckled quietly, his chest rumbling deep and low like a cat’s purr.

You will pry this characterization out of my stiff dead fingers. Bruce's kids feeling the low vibrations in his chest like a tiger's purr is everything to me.

He was cold. That was nothing new. He was always cold now. But Gotham itself was cold, which only pushed the aching chill deeper into his bones.

Jason being cold as a corpse is also a thing I'm a fan of.

Jason flicked his lighter once, twice. The flame caught, held, and he lifted it to the cigarette dangling between his lips. The smoke curled down his throat. He held it there, relishing the ache. He’d thought of stopping. Had tried a couple times as a kid, once he’d gotten himself off the streets. Ironically, given her own hangups, he’d always felt a little guilty, wondering what his mom would think of his vice.

I go back and forth on Jason and smoking, whether he would actively and militantly avoid anything addictive or if he would allow himself the one vice as a comfort because it's not one shared by either Catherine or Willis.

Jason scooped up his helmet and put it back on. The fumes were making him feel lightheaded. He surveyed the room once more, grimly satisfied with his work. The red arterial spray on the wall added a festive touch, he thought. He flicked the lighter again. Bent. Touched the flame to the glistening streak on the floor. The fire raced down the trail of gasoline, crackling merrily as it crawled over the bodies and up the wall. Jason closed his eyes as the heat beat against his face. The cold coiled tighter in his chest.

There was a fic I read early, early, early on, when I was brand new to fic and hoovering up everything I could find, long before I thought about writing anything for myself. It was an AU where Jason returned as an arsonist and graffitist. I don't remember anything about it other than that, including who wrote it, but whoever you are, it clearly stuck with me, so thanks!

It was Jason’s first Christmas sober. That was what it felt like anyways. He could still feel the Pit just beneath his skin, like an itch on his arch of his foot with his shoe still on.

As others have noted, I'm also a fan of depicting the Pit through the hybrid lens of addiction and mental illness. That hasn't changed. Good job baby writer me for that itch metaphor though, I don't remember that one.

He popped a fry into his mouth, then stiffened as someone slid into the booth across from him. His mind scrambled for her name, her real name. It was something perky and ponytailed like Kimberly or Tiffany. They’d only met once or twice out of masks, and it took him a moment to place her.

In my semi-cohesive universe of fics, I have no idea when Jason learned who Stephanie was out of uniform. I do mentally clump those 80/90s prep names together, too.

He hadn’t expected his Pit sobriety to be tested in a rundown 50s-style diner on the border of respectable Gotham. Not over an order for a Snickers milkshake, of all things.

A real diner would not have a Snickers milkshake, bad job me.

“To want in so bad for so long that the wanting goes rotten in your mouth.” A smile, thin and bittersweet, flickered at the corners of her mouth. “Keep spitting it out. You’ll get clean eventually.” Jason stared, considering. Wondering. Where did Bruce find kids like them? Kids with bruises on their knuckles and poetry in their chests. Kids so hungry to belong that their teeth turned inward. How do you even go about finding kids like that?

Those bits maybe didn't fit with the voice of either of them, but I couldn't let the lines go. Call them an indulgence. It's Christmas, I'm allowed.

“You’re on some painkillers. And you lost a lot of blood,” Bruce warned. Typical that his first words would be a scold.

Perspective is so fun. Jason: :( stop scolding me. Bruce: I am stating FACTS, it's on you how you interpret the factual context being provided.

“You did,” Bruce confirmed. “You were stabbed. Twice. And then decided to hole up in a safe house and pass out without telling anyone.” Oh. Ohhhhh. Jason did remember something like that. He didn’t remembering deciding to pass out, but the rest…

That was a scold. Bruce's kids make him a little pissy sometimes, poor man.

“You missed brunch with Alfred. He was concerned.” Jason dropped his hand to blink slowly at Bruce. “But that’s tomorrow.” “That was three days ago,” Bruce corrected. “You were out for over a day, just based on your wound. We brought you back here two days ago to rest and heal.”

Ugh, time math, the worst.

Bruce rolled his eyes, a weirdly comforting gesture. If Bruce was able to roll his eyes, it must not be too bad. Jason owed Alfred a make-up brunch and an apology, though.

I have since migrated to the belief that Bruce doesn't roll his eyes, he blinks verrrry slowly and deliberately. (Though I also like @frownyalfred's depiction of him absolutely rolling his eyes but doing it with his eyes closed to hide it.)

Jason hummed, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Just them, though, right?” he teased. Bruce rolled his eyes again and knocked a knuckle against Jason’s cheekbone. “How are you feeling?”

hello physical touch is my favorite love language, especially for people who suck at words

They had flung themselves across Bruce’s king-sized bed, careful not to jostle Jason but also, he noticed, careful to casually stay within reach. Jason expected this from Dick and Cass, both touch-affectionate under normal circumstances, but even Damian and Tim had seemed to orbit closer than normal. In the spaces not occupied by bodies were trays of snack foods, including easily digestible soup for Jason. To Jason’s undisguised delight, Alfred had brought up the nibbles and then uncharacteristically had settled in one of the chairs by the bedside after giving Jason’s hand a pat.

Like I said.

“If I fall asleep before Miracle Max, wake me up?” “As you wish.”

And what he meant was, I love you.

[secondgenerationnerd]

Pretty good answers :) got some more if that’s ok?

1: who’s the strongest & weakest in omega?

2: how long have they been a team?

3: for Christmas, what’s the best gift they ever gotten?

4: who puts the Star on top of the tree when with their own families?

5: what’s their favorite Christmas movies?

6: what’s their favorite thing to do during the winter?

Ooooo

1. In terms of powers, Jon’s strongest and Lian/Damian weakest.

Interms of ABILITY I’d actually put Jon at the weakest. I think he relies on his powers too much to make up for any lack of skill, compared to Damian or Lian, who are able to keep up with their powered friends, or Mar’i, who was raised around the Batfam and can fight with or without her powers.

In terms of intelligence, the twins at the top with a combined IQ of 386. Colin is only at the bottom compared to the others, but don’t let that fool you. He’s the smartest when it comes to knowing the streets.

Basically, they’re all the best in one area and the weakest in another.

2. They formed when Lian (the oldest) was 13, and Mar’i (the Youngest) was almost 12, so factor that in when reading any of my fics

3. Oooooo

Milagro—Mar’i met her fashion idol at a gala (wearing one of Milagro’s designs) and managed to get her a summer internship with her. Milagro kissed Mar’i in her excitement 😂

Irey/Jai—light sabers. Like the really high tech ones. They’ll wear their Hanboks and act like they’re in a KDrama

Colin—first year they were a team, all their parents planned a surprise for him. His teammates got him fun presents, but the parents? The parents helped him get his friends nice presents, then got him furniture and clothes that were all brand new. Just for him. He hugged each of them and kept crying because he wasn’t expecting the love.

Damian—A little before Christmas (I made his birthday the same as mine, December 10th) but his favorite gift was adoption papers from Selina

Lian—Singing with her dad, after getting a new song book and guitar. It made her feel really safe and close with him

Jon— a copy of his favorite Ma Recipes. She wrote them each by hand for him and gave it with a kiss

Mar’i—she found Kor’i’s old stocking the first year on earth. Dick hung it up and, on Christmas morning, it was filled with all Kor’i’s favorite things….including the perfume she always wore. Mar’i was so excited

4. Ooo colin is always invited to everyone house and has turned into Abuse to put the star on a tree

Mar’i, again first year, didn’t fully understand when they said “Star goes on top” so she flew to the top. Usually it switches up every year between all the bat kids. Damian helps Bruce set up and light the menorah

Milagro usually puts the star on top, with Jaime lifting her.

Lian and Roy absolutely, without a question in my mind, fire an arrow into the ceiling with the star hanging over the tree

Irey and Jai also switch up

For Jon’s family, it’s usually Ma

5. Every year, without fail, they watch Klaus on Netflix. Omega also has one day they turn in Hallmark movies and just….exist.

6. Oooo depends.

Milagro (Texas girl through and through) despises the cold. She spends most her days inside knitting or embroidering. Damian is usually with her if he’s not training. He also learned to knit thanks to her and they enjoy just watching telanovelas together.

Mar’i is fascinated by the snow so she’s usually out and about. Jon takes her ice skating every year (which she’s awful at but he’s actually really good)

The twins, Lian, and Colin? Out side having snowball fights.

There has been a snowball fight amongst all omega while their families were around. Full powers, complete chaos, and the most fun they’ve ever had

[olive-gardens-breadstick]

random dc headcanons go!

most of them are batfam sorry lol

every time beast boy changes form he has to active stay alert as not to completely adopt its nature and stay focused on the fight not the rapid change of chemicals flowing through him

pink kryptonite makes jon aroace

martha wayne was native french and did the one parent one language thing so when bruce thinks about his mom a hint of french slips into his voice

following the last one, bruce learned two different types of english (american and british) so his natural speaking voice is a bit of an abomination (his fathers new jersey accent and alfred’s british + the french it’s a nightmare)

and frequently switches between american and british spelling bc alfred helped with his homework after thomas and martha died

billy still has some enhanced elements to him when he’s not shazam ie; he’s a lil too strong, is randomly a lil bit more insightful than usual etc., not enough for anyone he knows or even himself to notice but it catches  adult strangers of guard when a random 12 yo gives really relationship advice that they just have to take bc they know he’s right

before bruce was born martha and thomas had 3 cats they named snap crackle and pop (they were orange (ginger snap) black (with a distinct white pattern that looked like lightning) and white (pop corn))

the cats died when bruce was in highschool (they were close in age and went one right after the other) and he took it just as hard as his parents death bc he lost one of the last things he had left of them

when bruce learned how much jason loved to read he took him to a) the five story barns & noble and b) the book store in oregon that is legitimately a block and just let him lose resulting in the manners library

kara doesn’t like the chunks of garlic in food so she makes her own sauce and uses garlic powder

conner may have clark’s hair and eye brows but is smooth literally everywhere else, not even peach fuzz on his face, no leg or arm hair, everyone he meets in civilian form thinks he gets waxed

barry can find his way anywhere if you give him street names (he’s on callahan going towards cherry) but cannot tell the difference between his left and rights (he turned right! *heavy sigh* your other right,man)

martian man hunter can’t read bruce’s mind, not bc of some moral standpoint he just… can’t. it stresses him out

knowing this bruce will give him a smile when he know j’onn is trying to get in his head it always chills his bones

after they got married selina “found” a few pictures of bruce with the cats ( baby to teen) and cried for a good 2 hrs about it and when bruce say her crying and asked her what was wrong she just said he looked so sweet in every picture

tim and bruce did (and still do just not as often) escape rooms every weekend when bruce made tim robin he said it was to sharpen his skills but really he just liked seeing how excited tim got when he solved one of the puzzles

tim’s comfort games are ace attorney and professor layton (bruce got him the first games of both and a ds one christmas and he instantly fell in love with them) he’s also played dangonrompa (which bruce got him a ps vita for)

after he found out tim had a ds jason gets him a stupidly easy and shallow shovel ware game as a gag gift for his stocking

oliver and bruce were super close before oliver’s cruise ship crashed and they both still have eachother as their emergency contacts

[glorified-red]

Batfam's Stockings & Wrapping Paper

word count: 1,450~

warnings: mentions of Thomas/Martha's passing

Merry Christmas & Happy Yule!! Very special thanks to @unmotivatedwrit3r for helping me think these head canons out and search for photos :)

The Wayne's loved Christmas, they'd celebrate it as a family and decorate the entire house for the winter

Thomas and Martha both had gorgeous stockings with Mrs. and Mr. embroidered on the top portion, only solidifying their love as a family

Bruce and Alfred had matching stockings with their names neatly embroidered as well, tied off with a wonderful ribbon

After Martha and Thomas Wayne's passing, Bruce tried to keep the tradition alive with Alfred

But over the years it got harder and harder to see those stockings without remembering the warm memories that accompanied them

So even when he placed the star atop the grand tree in the Great Hall after the Thanksgiving Gala came to a close, he couldn't forget how much those stockings hurt to see

So he took them down, hide them away at the bottom of the Christmas bins and got different stockings

To keep up the act as a perfect family picture, to keep the tradition alive and the reporters happy

Since then, every stocking looked the same in the Great hall, classy and embroidered, all for publicities sake

Even under the center tree were countless presents, wrapped in stunning paper and perfectly curled ribbons to keep the warmth of the holidays in the home

They were all empty boxes

Every last one of them

But it was always fun to wrap

But deep down underground in the Batcave, were adorably mismatched stockings that grew each year

Bruce gave up trying to keep all the stockings the same after Dick couldn't find a matching stocking to Bruce and Alfred's ancient ones

They were far too worn and muted, probably outdated after the years

So Bruce would let each kid chose their own stockings regardless of color, shape, design, or size

They were all different

But that was home

How you know you've made it in the batfam is when Christmas rolls around and Bruce takes you stocking shopping for your very own stocking to be hung in the bat cave aside the rest

After Tim found the old stockings, the Mrs. & Mr. stockings were hung as well

Even moreso

Over the years, the Christmas tree was filled with too many presents

The chaos of trying to figure out which present went to which kid and who it was given from

So they all decided to coordinate

Each year they would chose a specific wrapping paper for themselves and all their gifts would be in that paper

It became so much easier to tell which gift went to who

And the ribbon? Told everyone who the gift was given by

Alfred Pennyworth

Bruce Wayne

Selina Kyle

Barbara Gordon

Dick Grayson

He tried matching with Bruce & Alfred as a kid and this was the closest he could find

Cassandra Cain

Jason Todd

Stephanie Brown

Tim Drake

The creme colored one---when Bernard comes in he either matches with Tim or gets the most outrageously ugly stocking he can find, no in-between

Duke Thomas

Damian Wayne

The Green one

Batcow, Alfred (The Cat), Ace, & Titus

Batcow: Burgundy

Alfred: Black and White

Ace: Brown

Titus: Gray

[solarcelest]

Of Christmas Past and Present

or read on Ao3

It was always freezing on Christmas Eve. It was Gotham, so naturally the temperatures were lower no matter the time of year but Christmas always seemed to come with a sort of bone numbing cold that couldn't be shaken with layers of blankets and expensive heating systems. Dick Grayson knows this, many winters in the city have taught him so, but this was Damian’s first Gotham winter and the boy seemed to be learning the city’s harsh ways as he shivered on the couch.

The power had gone out nearly an hour before and there seemed to be an issue with the generator, which Dick had just tried -and failed- to fix, they would have to call a specialist in the morning (Dick never was very good with handy-man work and knew next to nothing about the electrical heating the tower used to conserve energy). For the time being, he and Damian were both in their warmest pair of pajamas, the air in the penthouse quickly going cold without the heater.

Dick was sifting through the closet once again looking for more blankets, anything that could stop the kids incessant shivering. At first he had thought Damian was exaggerating, trying to be annoying about the outage and insisting that “ -you really should have been more prepared Grayson- “ but Damian hadn’t said a word. Just sat in the dark in his little cocoon, teeth chattering.

Then Dick thought, yeah, ‘course the brat would complain about the outage but Damian would never complain about being cold. He practically had to drag the kid from patrol kicking and screaming when he had come down with that fever last month. No wait- he had needed to do that.

Pfft, like hell Damian would say a peep about being cold.

Dick sighed, he was trying to convince himself that they were making some sort of progress, even if it was one step back and two steps forward it was progress. Alfred reminded him of that.

( He found himself guilty of wishing the man’s vacation away. The butler deserved to spend the holiday in England with his family, no matter how out of his depths Dick was. )

“I found another blanket.” Dick said, shaking it out as he walked back to the living room. It was dark in there, and he should probably look for some candles or flashlights in addition to the fire so that they could actually see. Maybe in a minute, after he gave Damian the blanket…

In line with the boys usual behavior, Dick received no “thank you” for his hard work. Just a pair of shiny eyes following his movements as he draped the bl-

Wait.

Shiny eyes?

Dick backtracked, stooping down to get a better look at the boy. It was hard to see in the dimly lit room (lit by nothing other than the gas fireplace beside them) but, yup, there was definitely a sheen to those wide green eyes.

“Dames?” Dick asked, voice soft and as gentle as he could make it. “Are you okay?” He hoped the boy was okay, he hadn’t ever seen this side of Damian before. He had no idea how to handle a crying Damian, a crying ten year old, yes, but not Damian.

The boy's shoulders tensed with the question and he seemed to sit up that much straighter, blanket falling off his shoulders slightly with the movement. He sniffed, so quietly it was nearly imperceptible, before clearing his throat and responding.

“Tt. Of course, Grayson,” he said. The hardness of his tone was fake though, a facade to cover his true feelings. Or an attempt at a facade since even after the mere few months they had been together since Bruce’s death, Dick had a surprisingly easy time reading the boy. It honestly wasn’t that hard to spot the inaccuracies if you paid attention to Damian’s usual mannerisms.

For example; there hadn’t been a comment about “that inane nickname, Grayson”.

“Nuh-uh. What did we say about trust, huh? It works both ways. Tell me what’s been bugging you.” Dick said, settling on one knee in front of the boy.

Damian remained silent, no sound other than the cracking of the fire, tiny fingers fumbling with the blanket on his lap. Dick wondered how they didn’t break, those nimble fingers, when the boy punched the lights out of criminals three times his own size.

“Well,” Dick tried again, “there’s something bothering me .” Damian looked up, big eyes silently questioning the older man. “I’m upset that you’re upset and I can't fix that until you tell me what’s the matter.”

It was probably a low blow, blaming the boy line that but, if it worked…

“It’s Christmas Eve…” The boy started, eyes downcast and shoulders hunched in.

Dick furrowed his brows, “and?”

“And… and I’m not sure what that means?” Damian added, not very confident in his own words. Dick was even more confused, the boy didn’t know what Christmas was? He had thought that Talia would have at least informed the boy of the holiday, even if he was sure Santa hadn’t been visiting the leagues compound.

“What?” Dick asked.

“Everyone’s always speaking of how ��magical’ Christmas is and- and I’m not even sure what they mean. I-“

Dick must have been doing a bad job of hiding his surprise at the boys admission because Damain stopped himself there. He was looking at Dick apprehensively, muscles tense like he was preparing to up and run. His eyes still twinkled in the dark.

“Did I say something I shouldn’t have?” He asked.

“W-what? No?” Dick said. “You don’t know what Christmas is?”

“Well… I know the basics.” Damian hurried to add. Dick nodded, narrowing his eyes, that couldn’t be all, definitely wasn’t the reason the kid was almost crying. Damian’s emotional barriers were too thick to be torn down by a small moment of ignorance .

“Is that the only thing on your mind?” Dick asked. He almost wished that he hadn’t, for in the next moment the boy’s walls really did crumble, his face pinching up in that way any child’s does before a meltdown. Dicks heart hurt for the kid as he tried to think of what to do, he had never seen Damian cry before.

“ Why?” The boy cried, voice thick with his tears.

“Why what, Dames?” Dick asked. He noticed the dark circles under the kids eyes then, how the boys reaction was most definitely a result of emotional build up and lack of sleep.

Damian shook his head, refusing to say more and, really, Dick should be surprised that he even got as much as he did.

He could fill in the rest himself anyway. Why was Damian born the way he was, to who he was? Why was Talia so cruel? Why did Bruce not know? Why did Bruce have to die?

Why was life so unfair?

Dick thought about an alternate universe almost everyday. The ‘what-ifs’. What Damian would be like if Bruce had known and the boy had grown up in Gotham, if Bruce would have gotten his shit together and actually raised the boy the appropriate way. Really though, Dick assumed anything was better than Talia. Bruce had had his moments but he had been pretty great to Dick.

Life was unfair. It wasn’t right that Damian had these demons to live with, how the ten year old had more scars than some war vets and enough ptsd to last him a lifetime.

It was unfair that Bruce had died, that Dick had no idea what he was doing, that Damian didn’t know what Christmas was.

Suddenly, the power outage didn’t seem so bothersome.

“Hey, hey,” Dick said. He moved quickly, wedging himself next to the boy on the couch and tugging Damian’s small weight onto his lap. Instead of lashing out at him, Damian melted into the touch, tensing first at its unfamiliarity before sighing with relief. Dick felt bad , the boy had probably been starved of comfort.

“I’m so sorry Dami, for everything.”

At Dicks words, Damian stiffened again, seemingly realizing what he was doing.

He sniffed, “I- I- I shouldn’t-.” But Dick didn’t let him finish, instead, he cupped the back of the kids neck and pulled him close again.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay to cry, Dami, I promise .” Dick rocked the boy gently, rubbing his back. Since when had Dick been good with kids?

Five minutes of rocking more and the boys sobs has tapered off to occasional sniffs. Too embarrassed to make eye contact, Damain kept his face firmly buried into the older man’s shoulder.

“Did you charge your tablet?” Dick suddenly asked into the dark. Damian nodded into his neck. Dick smiled, getting up with the boy still against him and snagged said tablet off of the kitchen counter.

“There’s this really funny movie I always watch around Christmas, I think you might like it,” Dick said.

“Is it fictional?” Damian mumbled.

“Some parts of it,” Dick said. He brought the two to back to the couch, settling underneath the blankets for more warmth, the fire gave off some heat but it was still cold without the heater. “It’s called Elf , it’s one of my favorites.”

Damian unburied himself once they were settled, his face was red and snotty and Dicks shirt was damp but neither mentioned it.

Dick clicked the tablet to life, queuing up the movie. Dick waited and, just as he had hoped, as soon as Papa Elf came on screen Damian snickered. Then, by some amazing Christmas miracle, and because the cruel world did have its little mercies, the generator clicked on. The Christmas lights Dick had coaxed Alfred and Damian into hanging relit and and the tree flared to life. The fire roared beyond their feet and and the heat flicked on above them. Damian was snuggled against him, overtired but warm and safe and there.

Dick smiled, pulling the small boy that much closer. “This,” he said,” this is Christmas, Dami.”

And Dames looked back up to him with every intent of insulting whatever asinine movie Elf was and said: “Merry Christmas, Grayson.”

It may always be freezing on Christmas Eve, but Damian’s found that his brother’s body heat was an acceptable fix.

[starknjarvis27]

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: Twenty years from now, Jason Todd teaches English as Gotham University. He is an excellent professor....But more importantly for most of his students, his Rate My Professor score has all the chili peppers.

Tags: 20 years into the future, Fluff, hot professors, no underage, not for lack of trying on the kids’ part tho

My Batfam stocking for @cursed-angelica! For some reason, AO3 wouldn’t let me gift it to you! I couldn’t resist the prompt of Professor Jason Todd.

[renecdote]

I'm up for the stocking idea!

Great! Thanks for the message - and thank you everyone else who has liked/reblogged :) It seems like there’s a fair amount of interest so I’m going to cautiously say it will be happening. I’ll reblog the post a few more times to make sure nobody misses it and then get more specific details and a Tumblr page up in a few weeks.

[cursed-angelic-art]

More like on a long patrol with Drake, but w/e.

Sleepy Damian for @solarcelest​‘s batfam-christmas-stocking prompt: Falling Asleep in Public

Bonus Tim under the cut:

He bought the biggest desk for the express purpose of stashing a bean bag.

[preciousthingsareprecious]

Under Repair

For @primeemeraldheiress! I hope you enjoy this fic! I went with Jason and Damian bonding and cuddles as the prompt, and I hope what I went with worked.I had a lot of fun working on this fic. 

Characters: Damian Wayne and Jason Todd

Words: 3,541

AO3 Link

~

A terrible scratching under the car pulled Damian’s attention away from the road. For some inane reason, he looked down. Not to the side, or in his review mirror, but down, to his lap. When he looked back up, as confused as he’d been before, a median was coming at him quickly. He slammed on the breaks and yanked the steering wheel to the side in an attempt to mitigate damage and miss hitting the solid concrete wall. 

The car dragged against the concrete before it jerked to a stop just to the side of the median, and Damian sat staring at it for a moment, heart in a race to catch his ribcage as it rose and fell in heaving gasps. He let his head fall against the steering wheel and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to make his body calm down. He faced scarier things on patrol nightly—this was nothing. And yet, it took far longer than he’d like to admit for him to collect himself. 

When his breathing evened out to something less than panicked, he sat up and checked his rearview mirror. The street he was on was empty—and why would it be anything but? It was a little used path, one for him to practice on where he had far less of a chance to be pulled over. 

Damian undid his seatbelt and pushed open the door before stepping out onto the road. The wind blew, throwing his hair everywhere and shoving the door forward. He caught it with a hand, moving to close it, and blinked against the continuing gust. He shoved his bangs back and moved to examine the front of the car.

He could see the bumper was loose before he was even close. It was scratched and dented in its corner. He swallowed. He could probably buff it out, fix the dent, and repaint. Even if the whole thing had to be replaced, he could do that. They had the supplies at home, and with Father laid up in bed recovering, Damian would have plenty of time to fix it on his own. 

Yes, he could do this. 

He needed to check the source of the dragging that had first distracted him and get rid of it so that he could then determine if the car was safe to drive. He crouched and peered under car. Tangled in the undercarriage was a mess of leaves and branches. Damian reached under to tug at it. It moved an inch before catching and holding. 

He swore. Stupid wind blowing everything everywhere and ruining his day. 

When he stood back up, the wind caught him again, tearing at his shirt and seemingly trying its best to blow him away. Damian glared in the direction it was blowing.

“Stop,” he grumbled. “You have done enough already.” 

In response the wind picked up again as if to say  “I have only just started. ” 

Damian rolled his eyes and turned back to his task. He needed to see if there was any dangerous damage done to the carriage before he could continue. That meant getting those stupid branches to move. He was angry and frustrated enough that instead of thinking, he rolled up his sleeves, flicked on his phone flashlight, and crawled right back under the car. 

He settled the phone beside him and started pulling at branches. They were stuck firmly, like the time Richard had thought it funny to try and pull his hair into a ponytail. The rubberband had been so tangled they’d needed to cut it out, and for weeks after, his brother had an odd bit of hair that stuck up. Damian attempted to loosen them just as he’d attempted to untangle knotted grappling lines before--by pulling on one part and shifting when something got stuck again. 

A branch snapped, flicking across his face in a vicious swipe. Damian jerked back, hand flying up on instinct, and smacked into more branches, scratching his skin. He swore and extracted his hand from the leaves and sharp wood, and pressed two fingers against his cheek. It burned and stung, and when he pulled his hand away, he could see the shine of blood in his phone light. 

Damian bit back a groan of frustration as it built in his chest. He could just hear Richard in his head, reminding him to breathe when he needed to calm down. He took one, then two, deep steadying breaths, releasing each slowly. When he’d calmed sufficiently enough to ignore the sting on his cheek and his piling problems, he resumed the task of trying to extract the debris. 

Ten minutes later, with hands even further scratched and a still burning cheek, Damian crawled out from under the car and tried to still the growing frustration building in his chest. The stupid tree limb was so tangled he hadn’t even been able to get it to budge. All he’d managed to do was break some branches off it and scratch himself up. 

He leaned back against the car, not caring how the dirt clinging to bottom might transfer to his shirt, and ran his hand across his face. The wind was still blistering, forcing him to blink as his bangs were pulled from their normal curl and into his eyes again. 

Guilt pooled in his stomach. He’d messed up. This was supposed to be a quick trip to get soup, not an accident that stopped him before he’d even made it to his destination. Worst of all, he’d messed up one of Father’s favorite cars. He stood and pressed his lips together as he looked over the damage on the car again. 

He’d seen Father and Grayson work on the car together, just a few weeks prior. Damian hadn’t meant to spy. He’d come upon it accidentally and then had wanted to just watch. The two of them looked like they’d spent years working beside each other, which, of course, they had. It had been mesmerizing, and made Damian a little jealous. He knew that he didn’t work as well with either man. 

Damian swallowed, he wasn’t even sure why he’d picked this car. He’d just been drawn to it, and the magic around it. And now, it was ruined. 

He moved to examine the bumper once more, brushing a hand against it. Even that little bit of pressure made the thing creak and slip further down the front of the car. His heart sunk and the silly thought hit him to crouch down and attempt to fix the bumper by hefting it to shove up against the car. It held only for a moment before the whole thing scratched and dropped, the bent, scratched end hanging so far down now, it touched the concrete. 

Damian could fix this. He had to. If he were home in the cave with his tools and supplies it would be easy work, if not quick. He could take it home. Call Father and admit everything. But he couldn’t bother Father. He was in bed, recovering from an accident. If Damian called him, he knew Father would pull himself out of bed no matter how bad he felt. He couldn’t do that to him. 

No. He needed to fix his own mistake, and hopefully make it home fast enough for Father to still be sleeping. He would not be a burden. He’d be helpful, no matter what it took. 

The wind continued, now rattling the sunken bumper, causing it to scratch and screech against the ground. Damian squared his shoulders. He could still do this. Even if his stomach was swimming with anxiety and a voice in his head (soft, whispering, like Ra’s) kept telling him he’d fail. 

Damian shook his head and shoved those thoughts to the side before he moved to dig through the car’s trunk. Surely Father kept some emergency supplies in his cars. Supplies designed to help with the other side of their lives—like batarangs or something. Instead of batarangs, all he found were the typical supplies someone might stock against an unknown problem, like fresh clothes and water. He did drag out the jack so he could have a better angle at getting at the mess of leaves and wood trapped in the undercarriage. 

When at last he got the car up on the jack Damian quickly realized he had a bigger problem than he’d been imagining. It wasn’t just stuck. The branch had damaged things. Badly. The realization that he needed help dropped into his already churning stomach like a stone. 

He would not call Father. And yet, there were few others he could call. He’d driven himself since no one else was home. Pennyworth was out, taking the weekend for himself, and his siblings were busy. If patrol had not gone sideways, Damian and Father would be fine for a few days, he had even been looking forward to it—but now it was all falling apart. 

Damian pulled his phone from his pocket and turned it in his hands, trying to think. His chest was tight, each breath feeling sharp and too cold. Even his head was starting to feel light. Damian thought he might be sick. He didn’t know what to do. 

He clicked his screen on and started flipping through contacts, desperate to find someone,  anyone, to help. 

Jason’s name flashed on his screen and he stopped. Todd was still in town. He felt a flash of guilt over not considering him sooner, but pushed it away. He was still getting used to having his older brother around, so forgetting in a moment of panic could be excused. Out of all his siblings, he was the best choice. Damian knew Jason’s experience with cars outweighed most of the others in their family. 

Damian called him before he could talk himself out of it. As he pressed his phone to his ear, his heart wouldn’t stop racing. If Jason was busy or didn’t pick up, Damian didn’t know what he was going to do. And if he did what then? Damian could ask for help, but would Todd listen? Or would he laugh at him and hang up? Damian tried to tamp down that fear, Todd might give him a hard time but he wouldn’t say no. 

“If you’re calling to ask me to patrol with you tonight, the answer is no. I’m not babysitting,” Todd said, not wasting any time jumping into the conversation. 

Jason’s immediate rejection threw Damian off. It was a very Jason thing to say, so Damian should have expected it. What he didn’t expect was the off kilter feeling that Jason’s words had  caused. Damian’s breaths were coming short and everything else felt amplified, like it was all too much. He had to take another few seconds to try to breathe, the attempt not nearly as effective as his first. 

“Todd,” he said, attempting to keep his voice from breaking. 

Apparently his attempt had not been good enough, because his brother’s tone changed immediately.

“What’s the matter? Did something happen? Is Bruce—”

“No, no. It is not Father,” Damian interrupted, swallowing. 

He’d messed up again, worrying Todd and making him think Father’s injury might be worse than it was. Everything was starting to feel overwhelming and Damian hated it. He hated the feeling that his emotions were slipping from his control. Hated that he’d allowed himself to be so rattled and upset by all this. 

All he’d been trying to do was help, and he kept making things worse. 

“Okay, what’s wrong then?” Jason’s voice was no less worried, even informed of Father’s safety. 

“I—” Damian had gotten better at asking for help, so much so that the words normally were not difficult to get out. This, however, felt like several steps in the wrong direction. Still, he managed to say, “I require your assistance. I have damaged one of Father’s cars and cannot repair it on my own.” 

“Explain.” 

He did not want to explain. Damian wanted Jason there now. 

No, that was not true. Damian wanted to be home, successful in his quest and not dealing with any of this at all. But here he was, the scraping sound of metal on concrete was digging at him, fraying his already thin composure. 

“Todd.” It was as close to asking him for help again as Damian could come. He would not beg, but his chest was too tight and he couldn’t stop thinking about Father waking to find him absent from the manor. 

“You’re explaining when I get there. Where are you and what do you need?” 

Damian gave Jason directions and listed all the things they’d need. Then he was left on his own to wait for his brother to arrive. 

The waiting was not easy. Every moment Damian thought he’d collected himself, another wave of panic or thought of “ if Father finds out, he will be disappointed ” would wash over him. The thought of Father finding out and being upset caught in his throat and made his eyes feel puffy and hot. 

He tried walking off the anxious feeling. Then sitting on the curb. And in the car. Finally he found himself leaning against a tire, knees pulled up to his chest, and face buried in them while he tried to breathe. 

Damian was so lost in trying to calm down that he didn’t hear Jason drive up or even his brother’s approach. It wasn’t until a hand dropped onto his shoulder that Damian realized anyone was there. 

Distraught as he was, Damian’s reaction was instant, he grabbed the wrist and yanked the hand away. In the next moment he shoved himself forward, tackling the person to the ground. It wasn’t until he was staring down at Jason’s face that he recognized his brother. 

“Todd.” Damian breathed, then scrambled away. 

Jason hadn’t said anything during the whole exchange. In contrast, Damian’s mind was racing, heart pounding, another mistake on top of all the other’s working to further destroy his composure. 

Damian pushed himself to his feet, chest heaving. He hated himself, hated falling apart like this. And in front of  Todd  of all people. Damian’s hands curled into fists by his sides and he tilted his chin up in defiance of the roaring in his ears. 

“I did not see you.” he said, words clipped. 

He felt on the verge of something, screaming perhaps? Or maybe tears. He needed to reign in that feeling and control it. Todd was here now and Damian had help, he didn’t need to feel overwhelmed anymore. And if Father woke and found him not there? Damian could tell the truth and say he was with Todd. He dragged his emotions deeper into his chest imagining them wrapped in a tight ball so they couldn’t escape and locked eyes with his brother. 

Jason had stood as well, his hands were empty, but his car was parked close, driver’s door hanging open. It was obvious he was concerned, but Damian could do little about that right now. He had to push past that and convince him he was fine, and that started with his promised explanation. 

“As you are aware, Father was injured on patrol last night.” Damian started, he tried not to think about the fact that if he’d been there perhaps Father would be fine and this mess would have been avoided, he plowed ahead, “In an effort to make Father rest I offered to get food for the day with the stipulation I asked for a ride or ordered it delivered.” 

“But you decided to drive yourself.” 

Damian shrugged, “Everything else was too long a wait time, and by the time I left Father was sleeping. I thought it good timing.” 

He let his hands release from fists into open palms against his legs, “I was only trying to help.” 

Jason coughed out a laugh, “I can see that.” 

Damian felt sudden heat rise to his face. This was what he hadn’t wanted to hear when asking for help. He knew he’d messed up, and the confirmation only seemed to shove the lid on his emotions to the side, letting them all bubble up and out. 

The wind picked up again, blowing harder than before. Strong enough that Damian had to adjust his footing to stay standing. The rattling of the bumper grew louder and louder before there was as screeching that caught both Damian and Jason’s attentions. He turned to see the already loose bumper rattle so hard the whole thing fell and began skittering away. It caught between the tire and median, and lay there rattling as the wind tried to lift it again.

It was finally too much for Damian. His chest caught again, this time on a sudden sob. He had to suck back hot tears as they began to flood his eyes and obscure his vision. His hands gripped at his pants and all he wanted to do in that moment was disappear. He had only been trying to help. That’s all he’d wanted to do. None of this should have happened, and yet it had. It was simply proof that he could do nothing correctly, and only ever seemed to make life harder for everyone else. From failing Father to dragging Jason out here, away from his own life. 

“Hey, hey.” Jason’s ton was gentle, as he stepped close to Damian, “It’s going to be okay.” 

He reached out and tugged Damian into his chest, wrapping his arms around him to hold him close. Damian let himself be pulled, and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing in the scent of Jason’s fabric softener. He didn’t return the hug, he was too focused on not totally breaking down, but he did lean into the embrace, letting his forehead rest against the soft fabric of his brother’s shirt. 

“I was just joking with you, you know? Stuff happens, but this doesn’t look like anything we can’t fix.”

Damian sniffed and nodded, before pulling back, “Of course not. I chose you for a reason.” 

Jason grinned at him and raised an eyebrow, “Oh? And here I was thinking I was the only one left in town.” 

“I would not have asked for your help if I did not believe you capable, last person or not.”  Damian said, then turned to glance at the car, “If we continue to stand around wasting time this accursed wind will blow everything away.”  

It took forever, but they got the car working and the branches cleaned out. Damian was surprised by how good it was looking by the time they drove it back to the manor. Once there Damian delivered soup they’d picked up on the way back to Father while Todd continued to work on things. 

When he could pull himself away from Father Damian returned to the garage and helped his brother add a fresh coat of paint to the bumper and now buffed scratches. 

“It will look as if nothing had happened when we are done.” Damian said, standing back, brush in hand. 

His brother clapped a hand onto his shoulder, “You called an expert, you get expert work.”

“And just how many of Father’s cars have you fixed to get the title of expert?” Damian asked, unable to hide a grin. 

He was relieved. Relieved to have seen Father and made sure he was still well, relieved he had not had to call him, and relieved the damage would be repaired. Damian could collapse in a happy heap at this point and be unaffected by anything else. 

“Enough. I did start out my career as Robin by stealing your dad’s tires.” 

Damian rolled his eyes, “Indeed.” he shifted, “Would you like to stick around through dinner? Father would love to see you.”

“And admit your wrecked his car and had to be bailed out?” Jason teased. 

“Tt, no. I thought you might stay and cook.” Damian shot him a grin.

“Ah ha! The truth comes out, you just need an Alfred replacement.” 

Damian pointed the brush at Jason, “Lies and slander, I could cook or order out, I simply wished to use all the tools at my disposal. Besides,” he added, voice softer, “I did not lie about Father. He would be delighted to see you, even if he is cross with me over the car.” 

Jason ruffled his hair. Damian ducked with a scowl, and swatted at his hand, which only made his brother more insistent on messing with him.

“Fine, I’ll come up, but we’re telling Bruce about the car first thing, then I’m showing you how to make a proper dinner. Really, how he’s let any of you leave without a basic understanding of how food works is beyond me.” 

Damian grinned, showing all his teeth, “That’s up to you, older brothers have to help the younger.” 

Jason hooked an arm around Damian and turned him in the direction of the house, “You’ve been reading too many books.” 

If he had, it was entirely Jason’s fault. Not that Damian would ever admit that to him. It would inflate his overly large ego even further, and none of his siblings needed that. He let his brother lead him into the room, looping his own arm around Jason’s. 

“Come then, let us go see Father.” 

[huilian]

In The Coldest Time of Year

AO3 Characters: Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown

Summary: why is it so hot down here? However, even though he is overheating from the warmth of this version of the Robin suit, his toes still manage to be freezing inside his boots. How is that possible? He is overheating already, but his toes are freezing. Why anyone would voluntarily live in a region that has winter baffles Damian

A/N: Happy new year, people! Have some Damian in his first winter! Let's just ignore the canon timeline and let me have this, okay? (and maybe this fic is for me to process also living in winter for the first time ever. But what's a little projecting issues to fic between friends?)title from chant (hadestown)

*

Damian toes the half-melted snow with his boots again. He knows that his boots are water-proof and are insulated to stave off the cold, but he somehow could still feel the wet, cold slush seeping into his shoes anyway. He knows it is irrational. Robin’s gear is one of the best, if not the best, in the world. There is no chance that the cold, half-melted snow could get into his boots. But he still feels it.

He tries to stay up on the rooftops tonight, even as far as not jumping into fights he normally would be ecstatic to jump into, but even the rooftops are not safe from the half-melted, dirty slush of Gotham. Gotham’s slush is dirty even on the rooftops. Nowhere is safe.

It didn’t help that yesterday night was snowing and freezing cold, but tonight is warm. Well, warm for Gotham’s standard, anyway. It is above freezing, so it’s warm. That’s the standard for Gotham. But it meant that some of the snow from yesterday melted, but enough is left to mix with the melted snow and the dirt and grime of Gotham to create a truly disgusting concoction. It also meant that Damian had overdressed for the night, choosing to wear the warmest version of his Robin suit, the one that is designed for freezing conditions. He was freezing yesterday because he didn’t expect the weather to be that cold, but today he is overheating because the weather manages to change so drastically over the course of one night. Truly, Gotham winter is a fickle beast. Damian resolves to check the weather just before leaving for patrol every night. It would not do to be freezing one night and boiling the next night.

However, even though he is overheating from the warmth of this version of the Robin suit, his toes still manage to be freezing inside his boots. How is that possible? He is overheating already, but his toes are freezing. Why anyone would voluntarily live in a region that has winter baffles Damian.

(Technically, he also voluntarily lives here. But his father lives, lived , here, so it’s not like Damian is the one who chooses the area.)

“Tt.” That is really the only thing Damian can do to respond. He cannot pretend that he is not overheating, because he is, and he also cannot pretend that this situation is not affecting him. How is it that he is overheating in Gotham’s winter? Damian was raised in a desert. He should not be overheating in Gotham’s winter, no matter what he wears!

His toes, on the other hand, are still freezing. Why is his body betraying him like this. He was trained to withstand the most extreme of situations, but this is what got him? An overly warm suit and half-melted snow?

“Come on, Robin.” Grayson nods at him. “Let’s finish up this patrol and then we can go back.”

“I’m fine, Batman.”

A snort. Damian supposes he deserves it. That sentence could not fool even the most foolish of children. He, Damian al-Ghul Wayne, Robin, is not fine.

“Come on. Just a couple of streets left now.” With that, Grayson grapples to the next building and promptly lands on a puddle of slush. Damian winces. Grayson does not seem to think anything is amiss. Damian sighs. On with it then. It doesn’t matter that the slush is going to feel like it’s seeping into every single seam of his boots. Batman went, and so Robin has to go too.

Grayson truly does not care about the dirty, filthy, disgusting puddles as he flew above Gotham. Mayhaps Bludhaven was even worse. Damian had heard stories about the filthiness of Bludhaven. If the slush at Gotham is already this dirty, then Damian shudders to think about the slush at Bludhaven.

Then suddenly, Batman stops.

“Robin? Go back to the Bunker. I’ll finish up the rest of the patrol on my own,” Grayson said. He is standing in a way that Damian now knows is to cover whatever horrific scene is in front of him. As if Damian had not seen horrific scenes before.

Normally Damian would pester and argue with him, and sometimes Batman even relented. Tonight though, Damian is not looking forward to spending more time in the very, very, warm suit while simultaneously freezing his toes. So he just says, “Come on, Batman. You know I can handle it.”

It is a token protest. Damian was not as condescending as he could be, and also not pushing as hard as he could have. Both he and Grayson know that. So Grayson just gives him another snort and pushes him towards the direction of the Bunker. After another grumble, Damian goes without further protest. He really cannot wait to peel the suit off and put his feet in warm, fuzzy socks that Pennyworth somehow acquired for him.

(He is not complaining. Those socks are very comfortable, especially during Gotham’s winter.)

Damian takes a different route to go back to the Bunker, hoping to avoid the disgusting slush on top of the buildings. He really shouldn’t have bothered. Every single building on Gotham has those filthy things on top of them.  But at least this time he can swerve around the worst of it, instead of trudging head-on towards it like Grayson did.

“Robin!” He hears Batgirl calls out. “Where is Batman? Why are you alone?”

As he looks back towards the source of the voice, he notices that Brown also trudges heads-on towards the disgusting slush like Grayson did. Why are they like this? Those things are disgusting. Even if they could not feel it seeping through their boots’ seams, surely they must know that trudging head-on towards it would cause the puddle to splash. And who knows what are inside those puddles. This is Gotham. Even fresh snow could not be trusted to not have some truly disgusting things inside of it, much less days old snow that is already mixed with all the filth of Gotham.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you, Batgirl.”

“Of course you don’t, you little brat.” Brown has managed to catch up with him, purely by virtue of disregarding whatever it is she is stepping into. That is the only reason she manages to even touch his head, in an attempt to smack him. The only reason. “So? Why are you alone?”

“I thought I’ve made it clear that I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“Yeah, you did. You just have to tell me everything .” Brown smiled a truly mischevious smile. Damian does not want to be on the receiving end of that smile. He remembered perfectly well what happened to people (Drake) on the receiving end of that smile. “I’ll ask you again, Robin. Why are you alone?”

“Tt. Batman wanted to do a case alone. He sent me back to the Bunker.”

Brown looked at him with understanding in her eyes. Sometimes Damian forgot that she used to be a Robin too, as brief as her time was. “Yeah, they do that sometimes. That’s not all there is, though, is it Robin?”

Damn it. Sometimes Damian forgot that she used to be a Robin too. That means Brown also got all the training every Robin got, including deduction and also, lying. Grayson might well send her here to make sure Damian went back to the Bunker.

(Not that Damian particularly wants to go somewhere else alone. Right now he just wants to get out of this suit.)

Damian looks at her. She looks back.

“I’m overheating in this suit and I can’t feel my toes,” Damian finally confesses.

“Wait, you’re overheating and freezing at the same time?” Brown frowns. “That makes no sense.”

Damian gestures with his arms. “That is exactly what I am thinking. How can I overheat and freeze at the same time? Winter is stupid!”

“Let me get this right. You’re overheating and freezing at the same time? In all parts of your body? Buddy, this might be a conversation you want to have with Batman instead of me.”

“What? No!” Damian grimaces. “I know perfectly well about the human reproductive system, thank you, Batgirl. I wore the warmest suit today but it’s not cold enough for it so I’m now overheating in my suit!” Damian can feel himself gesturing excessively, but he finds that he does not care. “But my toes are freezing because this disgusting slush is everywhere!”

Unlike Batman, Batgirl does not have the mystique that disallows her from laughing while wearing the suit. Brown exploits that very much now. The ring of her laughter can be heard blocks away.

“Stop laughing, Batgirl! It’s not funny!”

“It’s -hnnn- very - pfft- funny!” Brown manages to choke out between her bouts of laughter. “The high and mighty Robin, defeated by his own suit!”

“Stop it!” Damian hisses out. Brown does not stop.

After she finally stops laughing, this is what she says. “Have you never thought about doubling your socks? I’m sure you have more than enough socks to do that, Robin.”

“Doubling. My socks.”

“Yeah. Wear two socks at once. It’ll keep your toes warm, and if you decide it’s too hot after you start moving on patrol, you can always take one of them off. Layering, Robin. Don’t tell me you don’t know that?���

“Tt. Of course I know it, Batgirl.”

“Sure. That’s why you didn’t do it now.”

“Tt.”

They stayed there for a few moments. If the rooftop was not full of slush, Damian would have sat down there and he knew Brown would have too. It was nice to see that even Brown would not just sit down on the disgusting thing that is slush.

“Robin?”

“Yes, Batgirl?”

“In all seriousness, though, layering is the way to dress for winter. Because if you get too warm in the day, or night, I guess, you can always take it off. And..,” Brown stops here for a second and then shrugs. “ Well, I guess you don’t have to worry about that one.”

“What is it?”

Brown sighs. “It’s cheaper to buy thin socks and layer them up rather than, let’s say, buy a thick, high-quality wool one.” She shrugs again. “Like I said, you don’t have to worry about this one.”

Oh yeah. Damian forgets that Brown does not have the kind of funds and resources that the rest of the family has. But she is working with Gordon, and Gordon has her own funds, right?

Brown must have somehow known what Damian is thinking because she ruffles his hair. “Don’t worry about it, kiddo. Come on, let’s get you back to the Bunker. Wouldn’t want to risk Batman’s wrath, would we?”

“Tt. Race you there.” As soon as he said that, Damian ran, disregarding his freezing toes to take the most effective route. The prospect of beating Brown, and also that they are only a few blocks away from the Bunker, defeats his dislike of the still disgusting puddle.

“Hey! You little brat!” Damian can hear Brown shouts from behind him, as he most definitely is leading the race.

(Damian does wear double socks for the next patrol, and he checks the temperature before going out to patrol.)

[hellyeahniccage]

for @renecdote

Here’s Batman and Robin, taking a break from patrol on Christmas night, if only for some shenanigans. The criminal tied up to the tree in the background really helps sell the authenticity of the postcard. 

[lurkinglurkerwholurks]

Precious Fragile Little Thing

First posted: December 17, 2018

Focuses on: Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne

Favorite bookmark: None worth noting

Tier: In the top third of all metrics

This is my “behind the scenes” series where I indulge myself horribly by annotating my fics. Link to the fic itself above. Thoughts below the cut.

The title of this song comes from the Dolly Parton song. I recommend the David Cook version. Also, this is where I first really started to play with dual meaning titles and discovered I liked them a lot.

Again, pulling from my own opening note for context: Created for AlmondRose's BatFam Christmas Stocking prompt "older sibling mentoring/giving advice to younger sibling" mixed with "angst with a happy ending."

Damian was late for dinner. In the grand scheme of things—in the grand scheme of Damian—it wasn’t a huge deal. But he knew the rules. He knew he was expected downstairs at the table at 6:30 sharp. It was 6:45, and the boy was nowhere to be seen.

I don't know about this framing now. Given what Dick is dealing with, it seems likely that he would do away with all the little rules to give himself fewer battles to fight. On the other hand, structure and routine are super important to establish a feeling of safety and security, especially for a kid in crisis. So who knows. Whatever the case, it worked well enough as a fic opener.

Damian was closed off in ways that baffled Dick. He wasn’t just reserved, he was arrogant, haughty, and mean.

I like Dick not being oblivious and permissive. I like him being clear-eyed on exactly who and what Damian is and choosing that kid again and again anyways. It's what Bruce would do.

Dick, having wrenched the box from Damian’s hands, stared down at its contents. Its contents stared back. “Don’t kill it.” Dick dragged his attention from the still-cheeping baby bird in the box up to its rescuer.

Initially, this fic was supposed to be about a kitten, the one that would become Alfred the cat. It was supposed to be Dick's first look at the patience and the gentleness Damian could display toward animals, like trying to lure a frightened, feral kitten from underneath a car. I couldn't make it work, though, so I pivoted to this instead.

“What happened to its wing?” Dick rested the box on his knees so he could point with one hand at the slight, bent wing held akimbo from the bird’s tiny body. “It is broken.” Damian’s voice was small, so small, and tight as a white-knuckled fist. “Though it is old enough to fly, I hypothesize that it was pushed out too early and damaged its wing in the fall.”

metaphorrrrrrrrrr

Damian’s head dipped, his shoulder slumping for the briefest of moments. But then his neck stiffened, bringing his chin up as he said, “It was a dog. A puppy with a crippled paw. Grandfather broke its neck.”

I was nice here. Realistically, Ra's probably would have made Damian do it.

[incorrectbatfam]

Batfam holiday shenanigans please?

Carrie melts all the marshmallows in the house into a single giant marshmallow for the city's largest cup of hot chocolate

Damian's science teacher gives him an unfair grade, so he parks a reindeer in that teacher's parking spot

Every time the batmobile gets covered in snow, Duke writes "The Buttmobile" on the windshield

Barbara replaces the bat signal with a projector playing Home Alone

Harper convinces Bruce that Die Hard is a Christmas movie

Cass turns an empty plot behind the Manor into a ski slope and lets the public in for free

On Cyber Monday, Alfred stocks up on a year's worth of hand soap, detergent, bug repellant, and Mr. Clean Magic Erasers

Cullen hangs mistletoe wherever he knows Bruce and Clark are going to be

Stephanie needs $50 from Bruce to buy presents, but instead of asking normally, she dresses up as Santa Claus and stands in Bruce's office with a bell and donation pot

She inspires Bruce to be this year's mall Santa, with Damian as his elf. Except all the interactions are recorded and Bruce really gets each child what they asked for—including the kid who asked for a full-sized steam engine

The Wayne family holiday dinner is vegetarian due to Damian's love of animals. Meanwhile, the Gotham City Rogues have turkey and only turkey because Ivy refuses to harm innocent plants (Two-Face and Mr. Freeze fight over the wishbone)

Dick gets lost at the mall and Damian has to call him over the intercom

Jason wraps the Joker's ride in string lights and a big bow and gets Harley and Ivy a toaster oven as a belated wedding gift

Kate goes around town making Bat-snowmen

Bruce tells Tim, "Don't bring your friends to the Black Friday rush." Tim elects to ignore him and brings his friends to the Black Friday rush

Instead of focusing on beating up bad guys, their patrols in the twelve days leading up to Christmas consist of distributing food, clothes, presents, cash, and job offers to those who need it

Titus, Alfred the cat, Ace, Krypto, and Bitewing bring treats and toys to animals at the shelter. Their owners are very surprised when they hear it on the news

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

can you write christmas headcanons with the batboys, the batgirls, and bruce? like setting up the apartment/house and baking blablabla

✦ a/n — I’m writing this with the holiday celebrations as a secular thing in mind.

Bruce Wayne

Bruce honestly doesn’t have enough time to set up the manor, but he makes it up to you by actually helping you choose the decorations.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s enthusiastic about it, he’s just busy. And he makes as much time as possible for you and the family.

Bruce enjoys baking for the holidays. I’m sure that’s one of the few activities he enjoyed as a kid when Alfred tried to keep his mind off how sad the holidays would be without his parents.

December is like Gala Time™︎ so the season is hectic for everybody at the manor. Never a dull moment is spent at that house.

And he likes it that way. I think Bruce prefers the erratic nature of having the entire batfamily around him throughout the festivities, it’s a reminder that he isn’t alone even though he feels like it sometimes.

He goes out of his way to get everybody a special gift. Alfred helps, of course, but Bruce takes his time to give his input and think about them.

Dick Grayson

You find out he’s a good singer while decorating the apartment. He starts by whistling and then he’s full-on belting while singing different Christmas songs.

He claims he isn’t a “Christmas guy” but he enjoys the cheer the season brings. He finds it contagious. (He sooooo is a Christmas guy, but don’t tell him I told you.)

Dick’s less impulsive throughout the holidays because he doesn’t want to miss any party or event.

Really indecisive as to what to get his family for Christmas. He low key panics when it’s time to choose Damian’s present.

You will never get Dick Grayson to bake. I’m sorry, but he’s a menace in the kitchen. He also hates measuring ingredients.

Buuuuut, he’ll happily watch you and keep you company. He might take place in decorating cookies. They don’t turn out that pretty, but it’s a blast.

Jason Todd

Setting up the apartment with Jason is really fun. And he can reach anywhere so he does all the hard work.

However, when you get to the Christmas tree it isn’t as fun anymore.

You see, Jason is very protective of the people he loves. He loves you very much. And Christmas trees are a fire hazard.

He’s almost ready to throw out the tree but he can never say no to your puppy eyes. So he agrees. And he turns into a clean freak because “artificial trees collect dust and that makes them a fire hazard.”

I have this headcanon that Jason is a great cook and I also think he’s a great baker. The apartment usually smells amazing, and it smells even better throughout winter.

Don’t tell Alfred, but Jason’s cookies are the best in the world.

Tim Drake

I see him as somebody who’s really into the festive season.

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year,” he says, unironically and with a sweet smile on his face.

Colors everywhere, stockings, mistletoe, ornaments... decorating the apartment takes you a few days because neither of you can decide how much is too much.

Not much of a baker, but he’ll give it a try just to have some festive fun.

He’s an expert at wrapping gifts. Seriously, he does it quickly and without a struggle.

I think everybody from the batfamily enjoys doing charity work around the holidays, but especially Tim.

Damian Wayne

I’m certain Damian didn’t grow up celebrating the holidays to the same level westerners did, and he probably started tolerating them in his late teens.

That being said, he prefers simple decorations. Too much color is headache-inducing and he thinks it doesn’t look good when a pallet isn’t being followed.

Tease him about how colorful Robin’s suit is and he’ll send you the deathliest glare you had ever seen.

Damian takes decorating cookies very seriously. And he’s a really good artist, so as expected, his cookies are gorgeous.

Never take him Christmas shopping, please, the world isn’t ready for that catastrophe. He does all his shopping online and he always knows what to buy for everybody.

Expect a gift that could only be considered as a lot. Damian doesn’t know what a small present is — or if he does, he chooses to ignore the concept.

Duke Thomas

The two of you slow dance surrounded by the Christmas lights when you’re done decorating the apartment.

Movie marathons are a usual thing for you, and they only get more frequent as the holidays approach because there are a lot of holiday movies and he loves most of them.

The entire month, he tries to take a peek into what you buy in case his gift is there. Sweet Duke doesn’t know you bought his gift earlier because of that specific reason.

He tries to get you to spill what you bought for him. Mostly with spontaneous kisses. He makes it reaaaaally hard to keep the secret, but you manage.

He’s a decent cook, but he cannot bake to save his life. He can bake pre-made stuff and even that turns out burnt sometimes.

Look, he’s busy rather often and he can’t remember everything he has to do — that includes that there’s good in the oven. BUT IT’S OKAY, HE’S CUTE, NOBODY’S PERFECT.

Barbara Gordon

Babs gets you matching Christmas sweaters for every occasion. You don’t know where she finds the ugly kind but she manages to get her hands on some atrocious stuff (in a fun way.)

The two of you most likely spend Christmas Eve at her family’s. She’ll be okay with visiting your family too, and will probably try to bring something special to charm your parents.

She’s already charming as she is, but festive!Babs is 100x more charming.

You have a tradition of giving each other awful gifts on Christmas Eve and good gifts on Christmas Day. She switches it one year and it’s chaos.

So. Many. Cute. Photos. Together. Dressed as elves, as Santa, as reindeer; with your Christmas sweaters; on your pajamas; dolled up for a party... you could fill an album with photos exclusively taken on the holiday season.

Christmas Day is for cuddling and eating candy you found on sale.

Stephanie Brown

Picture her in one of your sweaters, stretching her arm to teach the top of the tree so she can do the finishing touches. She’ll refuse your help, but will kiss you as soon as she’s done as a thank you for being helpful.

The two of you host a small holiday party at your apartment and the preparations are the most fun you’ve ever had.

Like finding Christmas markets in Gotham is hard and the city is awful sometimes, but the process is fun and Stephanie’s excitement makes it even better.

And the party is a success. Your friends are there, and your girlfriend is so happy because the apartment feels so much like home that you can be comfortable with hosting parties.

Instead of baking cookies and being a cute couple by smearing royal glass over each other’s faces only to clean each other, you have a gingerbread house competition.

It gets messy, and Steph laughs throughout the whole thing. Nobody wins, but it’s fun, and it isn’t particularly cute, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Cassandra Cain

Like Damian, she didn’t grow up celebrating the holidays as westerners do.

Cass isn’t the most open person in the world. She tries, but it’s hard for her sometimes. She makes more efforts around the holiday season. As cliche as it sounds.

If she’s spending the holidays with the batfam, she partakes in the family traditions Bruce has set up for everybody.

If she’s on her own with her S/O, I see her doing chill stuff. The two of you cook your favorite food and watch movies the entire day, perhaps indulge in a bottle of mauled wine or something of sorts.

She’d be okay with going to your family’s Christmas celebration as long as you also get time for yourselves later.

Cass will give you hands down the best Christmas gift you’ve ever received. She’s observant so it’s hard to hide things from her and that means she knows exactly what you want or need.

[glorified-red]

Started: 10/19/20

Last Updated: 7/13/23

Rules

WIPs

All fics are Tim Drake x Reader unless otherwise stated

Go check out these incredible artists:

•Profile Icon - @nevolition•

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Red's Writing Advice

Example of Show vs Tell

Writing Exercises Explained!

Show vs Tell: Setting (Empty Room Analogy Explained!)

Consistently Mediocre? Insanity Explained!

                    Ｍｕｌｔｉｃｈａｐｔｅｒｓ

Includes:

Nightmare

Nowhere to Go (Damian Wayne x Reader)

Tomcat

The Batfam Chronic Pain Series (non x-reader)

                                      Ｆｉｃｓ

Company

Delusional

Love Struck

Alfred’s Call

Bite (Vampire! Reader)

Toxin

Your Birthday

In Red

Unspoken Rivalry (Kon El x Reader x Tim Drake)

Sleep? No

Boss

Guilt Follows Lust [NSFW]

What If

Taking the Cowl

Miscommunications and Jealousy

Self Care Day (Damian Wayne x Reader)

You Are Loved, Damian Wayne (Damian Wayne x Reader)

Petnames (Damian Wayne x Reader)

Christmas Preparations (Damian Wayne x Reader)

Auburn Traditions (Damian Wayne x Reader)

Autopilot (Damian Wayne x Reader)

Locks & Cake Pops (Damian Wayne x Reader x Jon Kent)

Actions Speak a Thousand Words (Damian Wayne x Reader)

                           Ｈｅａｄｃａｎｏｎｓ

Dick Grayson’s Love Language

Dick Grayson SFW Headcanons

⋘⋙

Jason Todd’s Love Language

Jason with an Asexual s/o

Jason Todd [NSFW] Headcanons

Jason Todd SFW Headcanons

⋘⋙

Tim’s [NSFW] Headcanons

Tim’s SFW Headcanons

Tim’s Love Language

Tim Drake Character Analysis

Tim's Relationship with Bruce Timeline/Analysis

Going to Disney World with Tim

Going to School with Tim

Tim with a s/o who has anxiety

The Types of Hugs Tim Gives

Tim with an Artist s/o

Five Senses with Tim (angst ver)

Five Senses with Tim (fluff ver)

Valentine’s Day with Tim

Tim with a s/o Who Loves Music and Dancing

⋘⋙

Damian Wayne SFW Headcanons

Damian Wayne’s Love Language

Ideal Dates with Damian

Damian and Titus

Comforting Damian and Comfort From Damian

Damian When His s/o is Sick

Damian Wayne's Style

⋘⋙

The BatBoys as Fanfic Writers on Tumblr

Protective BatBoys

Batboys as Wingmen

Batboys’ Method of Persuasion

Batboys Hogwarts Headcanons

Edging the Batboys [NSFW]

The Batfam and Witchcraft

The Batfam as Major Arcana Cards

Batboys with a Firefighter S/O

The Batboy's Attachment Style

Flinching at the Batboys

The Batboys' DnD Alignments

The Batboys' Handwriting

Batfam Stockings and Wrapping Paper

The Batfam's Godly Parentage (Percy Jackson based)

                                  Ｂｌｕｒｂｓ

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NSFW: One | Two | Three | Four |