#dick and damian are ducks

[zylev-blog]

HONK! CRASH!

Danny woke up with a jerk. He laid in bed for a long moment, staring at the ceiling and listening to the chaos downstairs. He could hear something running around the house honking, his dad yelling, and the sound of a gun going off. He didn’t have enough sleep to deal with this. All he had wanted was to sleep before school, but was that ever going to happen? No! Why was it always him that had to deal with everything?

“GRAB IT MADDIE, IT’S GETTING AWAY!” Dad yelled.

“I KNOW, JACK!” Mom yelled, shooting her gun again.

CRASH!

Danny rubbed his eyes with a deep sigh, tossing the covers off of him and putting his feet onto the floor. Just as he was about to get up, he heard thumping coming up the stairs. Great! Now he would get in trouble if he didn’t try to head off whatever was running around their house. He ran over to his bedroom door and yanked it open, running down the hall until he was face to face with a black duck. It wasn’t even a ghost! The duck had a patch of blue around its eyes that looked like a mask, and blue markings down the side of it. In his confusion, the duck slipped between his legs and kept running down the hall.

Jazz screamed from somewhere downstairs. “There’s another one!”

“IVE GOT IT!” Dad yelled.

Cursing, he ran after the duck just as his Mom ran up the stairs. He grabbed the duck off of the ground, ignoring it as it hissed at him and tried to bite him.

“What the fuck?” He asked Mom.

“Language, sweetie.” Maddie said while she aimed the gun at the duck in Danny’s hands.

“What’s going on?” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the duck squealing.

CRASH!

They both ignored the sounds coming from downstairs. Danny decided it wasn’t his immediate problem, so he said nothing on what sounded like Dad plowing through a wall at top speed while running.

“We thought these ducks were ghosts at first, but they’re not. We don’t know where they came from.” Maddie took a step towards him, a frown on her face. “They came out of the portal.”

The duck was still trying to bite him. It couldn’t even break the skin of his hand, so he didn’t try to fight it.

“Weird looking duck.” He commented. “Ducks aren’t blue.”

The duck squawked loudly in protest.

“GOT IT!” Jack yelled from downstairs.

“Can we like… throw it back in the portal?” He asked.

“It could come back in. We don’t know where in the portal it came from.” Mom said, lowering the gun now that the duck had stopped trying to escape.

“You think another dimension?” He asked as they walked downstairs.

“Perhaps. For now we’ll put them in the holding pod and figure out what to do next.” Mom led him down to the lab.

When they got down there, he added the duck in his hands to the cell that housed the other duck. The other duck was differently colored from the first. It was black, with green feet, a green mask around its eyes, and red markings along its body. The duck seemed to be howling bloody murder.

“This one put up a fight!” Dad said proudly. “Too bad it’s not a ghost.”

“Great. I can go back to sleep now, right?” He asked tiredly.

“You sure you don’t want to help with the interdimensional search? You’ve always been the best at this.” Mom offered.

“No thanks.” He declined, yawning. “But if they’re still here when I wake up then I’ll help.”

“Okay. Good night, sweetie.” Mom kissed his forehead.

“Night mom, Night dad.” He waved as he walked back upstairs.

As soon as he got back upstairs, he found Clockwork sitting on his bed. He screamed in frustration.

[sparkoflena]

Random Headcanon

Dick: Tim, we need to talk about your relationship with Damian.

Tim: ...why? We have a normal Sibling Bickering relationship.

Dick: You are the only member of this family that he still calls by your last name. I know things were rough at the start but you need to bond with him more and-

Tim, already laughing: This is about my name???

Dick: Yeah, your last name-

Tim: Dick, my last name is Drake!

Dick: ...I'm aware.

Tim: And Damian's 13.

Dick: I don't see the correlation.

Tim: Drake translates to 'dragon.' And he's a kid.

Dick: So this is about... your name meaning?

Tim: Would you rather call your brother by a stuffy name like Timothy or by DRAGON

[kikipancakes]

Batsies, birbs and one fat cat

[ghurab-alzilal]

At the Zoo VIII

Dick, at the recreational pond zone, blowing bubbles for Damian to pop : Whoa! That was a big one! Wasn't it, little D?

8 y/o Damian: *giggles as jumps to pop the bubbles *

Jason, assassinating stray bubbles with a squirt bottle before other kids can pop them : Hey, no! Get out of here! Those are Damian's! We aren't running a bubble charity! Keep away!

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

[the-lights-are-loud]

Batfamily as things that have happened in my house Part 1

Dick, waiting in the Batcave for Damian and Cass to come home from a mission: "...that's weird..."

Tim, sipping a caffeinated monstrosity nearby: "What is?"

Dick: "It says that Damian and Cass came back, and then left again..."

Just then, Damian and Cass wander in. Cass has a sad smile on her face, while Damian looks mischievously giddy. Damian seems to be holding something in his hands.

Dick: "...whatcha got there, bud?"

Damian opens his hands slightly. Little chirps can be heard.

Damian: "Ducks!"

Cass, still looking sad: "They were wandering alone outside, and we couldn't find their mama..."

Dick, rubbing his eyes: "Guess we need to tell Bruce and Alfred that we now have baby ducks..."

Masterlist

[welcometogrouchland]

I miss them so bad (Dick and Damian)

[aflamboyanceofflamingos]

The Fidget of the Batfam:

Bruce: There are so many reasons I like the ‘Bruce plays piano’ headcanon and because of that I have decided he finger plays his favorite pieces to keep his hands busy

Dick: He’s not a person who is ever still in the first place, constantly moving, tapping, or bouncing in place, it’s when he goes still that he’s in immense focus

Jason: the reason he has so many different leather jackets is because he’ll mess with the zippers until they fall off

Cass: Braiding, usually tiny sections of her own hair but often Steph’s or Tim’s when it’s long enough

Tim: He is the pen spinner

Steph: She goes through a pack of gum a week (she has a rotation for the flavors)

Duke: In order to keep focus he snaps next to both ears, but it’s that snap when you run your thumb over your pointer finger as well to make it quieter so he isn't completely distracted by it

Damian: Not exactly a fidget, but he doesn’t blink when he’s thinking, even if completely present in the conversation (it is terrifying)

Babs: She has like 20 different rubber ducks due to the fact that people keep giving them to her because of the Coding Rubber Duck thing, and while she does use them as intended (choosing which duck by who’s vibes are closest to the function of whatever she’s doing) she also tends to always have one on hand to just mess around with

[que3rduckling]

NICHE CROSSOVER TIME!!!

What if William Wisp (JRWI) somehow got transported into Gotham City? This Black-Haired, Blue eyed, detective, superhero, came-back-from-the-dead-and-is-sorta-still-dead kid. How fast do you think Batman would adopt him? I give the kid about a week tops

Please consider this:

William, in his Whisper Outfit, doing some detective work out in Gotham so he can figure out how to get home

Batman watching him from on of the rooftops in Gotham: Hm

Nightwing, who is beside him on the roof top: Bruce no.

Batman: ….

Nightwing: Bruce.

Batman: ….

Robin, who been with Batman the whole time hee been monitoring this boy this he arrived in Gotham: Father please. There are far too many imbeciles in our family we do not need more.

Batman: ….

Nightwing, sighing: we can’t deal with his adoption addiction alone. I’m calling for back up *starts to text the batfam gc*

—-

William, glancing around: Why do I feel like there is someone watching me with the intent of adoption?

(I’m aware everyone’s problay ooc I just needed to let my idea out)

[ao3sbatfamily]

Hi idk if you remember me but hi hello :) I disappeared for a while bc I got hit with a depressive episode and then got my first job (I’m stressed out of my MIND)

Wanted to see if you had any Tim and Damian bonding oneshots?

And idk if self promotion is allowed or not (I totally get if it isn’t) but I wrote a thing about a week ago:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54799255

I knew you'd be back! The blogs gotten bigger, so it might take longer for me to reply. Anyways, I woke up today needing fluff and your fic gave it to me. Thank you.

'Middle Child Problems' by HoneyDewed_LemonDrops

Author: @honeydewedlemons

“You’re a middle child, dipshit,” Jason says when Tim brings it up. Tim just blinks slowly, the way he always does when things take too long to process. “You went from only child, to youngest child, to middle child. And now you don’t know what the fuck to do.”

Jason had never been particularly… genius-y in the sense that most people would know. But, but. He never would’ve made it if he didn’t know people in a way that people didn’t even know themselves. Tim and Bruce, the detectives, could never really do that. Bruce was better at it, somewhat. He could read a case file and build a list of the most probable aspects of personality, but he could never quite understand the way that Jason could.

“Oh my God. You’re fuckin’ jealous,” Jason says, breaking Tim out of his momentary reverie. He waved his form around in Tim’s general direction, and Tim rolled his eyes.

“I’m not jealous,” He insists, but God. “I just- have you seen the way they interact? Neither of us ever got that chance with Dick. It’s not his fault, obviously, but—,” he cuts himself off because. Yeah. He is.

(Restricted) Damian's Duckling by sElkieNight60

Author: @selkienight60

“It seems almost sacrilegious to call you anything other than ‘Timothy,’ Damian mutters to the bird, amused.

Timothy, fluffy and gorgeous, was trapped in a drain when Damian found him outside Gotham Academy on an overcast afternoon. Though he had hunted for the baby duck’s parents for a good thirty minutes, running himself late for Alfred, he had eventually concluded that the parents had left the poor thing behind.

Newly dubbed ‘Timothy’ ignores him, preferring the moistened mixture of food and water Damian has provided.

“Perhaps,” Damian continues, unfurling his legs until they lay prone with the carpet, his back pressed up against the solid bed frame. “That is a secret we can keep between just the two of us, hm?”

Gingerly, he reaches out a finger and begins to stroke the bird. When Timothy doesn’t protest Damian tries with his whole hand. It melts his heart how trusting the duckling is, leaning into the warmth of his palm.

“You are not very much like your namesake,” he comments aloud, running a thumb over soft feathers. “Although, I made… mistakes when I first met Drake, if I am to be honest with you.”

Cupping the bird in one hand and drawing him out of the box, Damian brings him close to his chest.

[greenglowinspooks]

Honestly Tim is so pigeon coded to me. City boy who blends in with the crowd, both loved and hated by the people around him with terrifying intensity, much smarter than he lets on, kinda gay, would probably eat crumbs out of your hand,

[notrightgrayson]

I can't find the original post but... it said to put your favorite characters on this venn diagram. So here's my boys! (and nebula)

[spirit-fingers22]

The Quackken

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤBUTTERFLY KISSㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Batboys x Fem Reader

☆⁠ SYNOPSIS : When You Give Them A Soft Peck On The Lips.

☆⁠ CHARACTERS : Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Male Cassandra Cain, Male Stephanie Brown.

☆⁠ NOTES : English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

— BRUCE WAYNE ⋆

You were never one for dramatics, unlike the man currently sitting beside you. Bruce always had this ridiculous ability to make even the smallest things seem intense. Like now, as he sat on the couch in his study, one arm lazily thrown over the back, expensive whiskey in hand, looking at you like he knew every secret in the world.

You rolled your eyes. Show-off.

"You're staring," he noted, smirking.

"You look stupid," you deadpanned, crossing your arms.

Bruce chuckled, the sound deep and amused. "Mmm, that so?"

Instead of answering, you simply leaned in and pressed a quick, soft peck to his lips. Just a simple touch—barely even a second long—but when you pulled away, his smirk was gone. He blinked, looking at you like you had just flipped his entire world upside down.

Then, a slow, dangerous grin stretched across his face.

"Oh? What was that?" His voice dropped an octave, teasing yet undeniably pleased.

You shrugged, feigning innocence. "Felt like it."

Bruce hummed, setting his drink down. "You know, sweetheart, when you start something, you should always be ready to finish it."

You gasped as he suddenly pulled you onto his lap, trapping you with strong arms, his lips dangerously close to yours. "How about you try that again?"

You huffed, smacking his chest. "Cocky."

He only chuckled, leaning in. "Only for you, darling."

— DICK GRAYSON ⋆

The second your lips touched his, it was over for you.

Dick was already the human equivalent of an overly excited golden retriever, but the moment you surprised him with a soft peck on the lips? Yeah, you weren’t getting away.

"Wait—wait, no! Come back! Do that again!"

You laughed, taking a step back, but he immediately followed, his hands gently cradling your face, lips chasing yours desperately. His eyes were wide, filled with the kind of love that could melt glaciers.

"Dick, it was just a peck!" you giggled, pressing your palms against his chest to keep some distance.

He pouted—full-on, actual pouted. "But it was so nice! And soft! And perfect! Babe, please, I need more—just one more! Just—just—"

You dodged as he tried to kiss you again, laughing as he groaned dramatically. "You're so mean!" he whined, chasing after you as you playfully ducked away.

"You're so needy!"

"I'm your man, and I deserve love! Come back here!"

Eventually, he caught you—because let’s be honest, he’s a former acrobat and you were never going to escape. He tackled you onto the couch, pinning you down with his arms as he peppered your face with soft, dramatic kisses.

"You did this to yourself!" he declared, pressing another lingering kiss to your lips.

You sighed, shaking your head. "Regret. Instant regret."

"Liar," he grinned against your lips.

Yeah, okay. Maybe a little.

— JASON TODD ⋆

You should’ve expected this reaction. Really, you should have.

The second you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Jason’s lips, he short-circuited.

His entire body tensed like you had just struck him with a bolt of lightning. His breath hitched, hands tightening into fists at his sides. And when you pulled away—just slightly—his eyes were wide, pupils blown out, and—oh god, was he shaking?

"Jay?" you asked, tilting your head.

His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. He looked utterly offended by what just happened.

"Wh—Y—you—WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"

You flinched at the sudden rise in his voice, barely holding back a giggle. "A kiss?"

"A—A KISS?!" His face was so red it was concerning. "YOU CAN'T JUST—JUST—DO THAT!"

You raised a brow. "Why not?"

Jason made a strangled noise, running both hands through his hair. "Because—because—that’s—" He groaned loudly, looking anywhere but at you, his ears burning red. "You can’t just go around kissing people like that!"

"I didn’t kiss ‘people.’ I kissed you."

Jason froze. His breath stuttered. Oh, you got him.

His mouth opened and closed again, as if he was trying to find an argument but failing miserably. Then, suddenly, he threw his hands up and groaned like a dying man.

"I hate you," he grumbled, shoving his face into his hands.

You smirked, poking his cheek. "No, you don't."

Jason peeked through his fingers, glaring. "...shut up."

But when you leaned in and kissed his cheek this time?

Yeah, his entire brain stopped working.

— DAMIAN WAYNE ⋆

You leaned in and pressed a soft peck to Damian’s lips, pulling away with a small smile.

He didn’t even blink. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t react at all.

Just stared.

Like you’d just done something as mundane as handing him a pen.

You frowned. "You didn’t even close your eyes."

Damian tilted his head slightly. "Was I supposed to?"

You blinked. "I mean... yeah? That’s how it usually works."

He was completely unaffected. "If you want me to do so next time, tell me beforehand." Then, before you could even process his words, his hand grabbed your chin, tilting your face up as he leaned in.

And kissed you again.

This time, it wasn’t just a peck. His lips were soft, warm, and lingering. Not desperate, not needy, just slow and calculated—intentional. Like he was memorizing the feel of your lips against his own.

When he finally pulled away, your brain had completely stopped working. But of course, he wasn’t done.

Damian smirked. "Would you like to tell me how to hold you next time as well? Perhaps where you like to be touched?"

You choked. "Damian—"

"Or," he continued, eyes glinting mischievously, voice dropping just enough to make your stomach flip, "should I just figure it out myself?"

You shoved him, face burning, and he chuckled, looking far too smug.

— CASSIAN CAIN ⋆

Cass was quiet. Always quiet. You were used to it by now, the way he communicated in nods, soft looks, and the smallest of gestures.

Right now, he was standing beside you in the kitchen, nibbling on a cookie Alfred had made. His cheeks were puffed slightly, and his dark eyes were locked on yours, curious and observant as always.

You smiled. And, without warning, leaned in to press a soft peck to his lips.

Cass froze.

Like, completely.

His eyes widened—huge, round, confused puppy eyes—and his entire body locked up like a deer caught in headlights. You pulled back just a few inches, waiting for his reaction.

He just… kept staring.

Seconds passed. Then his face exploded in red.

He quickly looked away, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth as his shoulders curled inward. His fingers lightly touched his lips, as if checking if what just happened was real.

"Cass?" you giggled.

No response. Just more blushing.

And then—oh. Oh my god.

Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out and tugged on your sleeve like a little kid. Soft. Gentle. Seeking.

You tilted your head. "Hmm?"

He hesitated. Then, he tapped his lips with his index finger.

Your heart melted.

"You want... another one?" you whispered.

He nodded. Fast.

You cupped his cheek, pressing another kiss to his lips. This time, when you pulled away, he didn’t run or hide. He just clutched the fabric of your sleeve tighter, burying his burning face against your shoulder.

You stroked his hair, smiling. "You're adorable."

His muffled whimper told you he absolutely agreed.

— STEPHEN BROWN ⋆

The second your lips brushed against Stephen’s, you knew you messed up.

Because instead of a normal reaction, he immediately threw himself onto the ground.

"OH, CRUEL FATES! WHY DO YOU TOY WITH MY HEART SO?" he bellowed, clutching his chest like he’d just been mortally wounded.

You just blinked. "Stephen—"

"TO HAVE BEEN GRACED WITH SUCH A KISS, ONLY TO HAVE IT TAKEN AWAY SO SOON—OH, THE AGONY!"

You groaned, rubbing your temples.

He gasped dramatically, rolling onto his back. "MY LOVE, DO YOU NOT SEE? I AM BUT A HUMBLE MAN, A MERE PEASANT, UNWORTHY OF YOUR DIVINE TOUCH!"

"...Stephen—"

He pointed at the ceiling. "IF I WERE TO DIE THIS VERY NIGHT, I WOULD DIE A HAPPY MAN, KNOWING THAT I HAD ONCE TASTED HEAVEN—"

"STEPHEN."

He paused, blinking up at you innocently. "Yes, my dearest?"

You crossed your arms. "Are you done?"

He sat up immediately, grinning. "Nope! Can I have another one?"

You stared at him for a moment. Then promptly turned around and walked away.

"HEY, WAIT! DON'T GO! MY HEART CAN'T HANDLE SUCH REJECTION—COME BACK, BABE, I WAS ONLY PLAYING—"

You rolled your eyes as he literally ran after you, already preparing another ridiculous speech.

You were so done.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[satyricplotter]

ok so wrt last post i was specifically thinking about damian's somewhat skewed understanding of the world as a result of being brought up as he was and how, in an universe where he's not taken to bruce until he's an adult, that'd make pretty good fodder for the "out-of-context person/being doesn't understand the ways in which i am undesirable" trope, which is one of my favourites because it works so well to interrogate and ultimately condemn the systems of oppression that shape the idea of beauty and police desire without being dismissive to the character because to question the conflict means acknowledging the structural aspects that inform insecurity/self-loathing.

a damian that grows up and comes into his own as an adult within the sphere of the league will have 1) vastly differing priorities from the rest of the world 2) an equally differing set of measures and perspectives of what is good and what makes one worthy 2.5) an inherent disdain for everyone and everything that doesn't meet those specific standards, but also, any other system of measuring worth (because he has the Correct one). I don't think he'd be oblivious to what systems of belief and mundane conceptions the rest of the world subscribe to, particularly because I envision an understanding of them to be necessary for his training, but he'd think them beneath him and foreign to himself. i also don't think he'd be entirely removed from them, as he'd naturally be inclined to share whatever his grandfather and mother prioritize in terms of beauty and upkeep (ex. thalia has long hair = mum is beautiful= beautiful women have long hair, or also in the sense of thinking of beauty as a boon) and that'd be influenced by how thalia and ra's interact with the world, but he'd think very little of many fixations and judgements we debate ardently about.

which is very good for a reader who has grown up in a certain context, holding themselves and others to a certain set of standards of beauty, and internalized the fact that straying from that means you are ugly and therefore undesirable. (And I do mean for this reader to be, in some way or the other, ugly, in a real, tangible way. Not oh I'm so fat = is actually skinny and thinks they're somewhat overweight, or I'm beastly = is an average looking person, which we can get very well into when touching the theme of how these systems wrap humans perceptions of themselves, but not for this situation. I'd like here for the things that are objectionable about the reader to actually be real and observable.)

The way I picture it, Damian comes into the reader's environment due to a mission or something (maybe he needs to negotiate before going for the kill idk), which necessitates that he go undercover, and that's when he meets the reader. But the reader is not anyone special, and he doesn't really register them as anything out of the ordinary. He will have pinpointed who in the office is well regarded, which people are handsome or not according to these people's expectations (particularly important if he is to navigate this environment socially for any extended amount of time), and does not file the reader among these people. He may notice vivacious eyes or a pleasing smile, but it's ultimately inconsequential. He may not notice them at all. Until they butt into his plans, or make something go wrong, or revela themselves as key in the matter, or... you get the point. He's forced to turn their attention to them and that's when his attraction comes to build, with the interaction between them. This is baffling to the reader, who is unaccustomed to this degree of attention (in general) from someone so handsome/capable/etc (suspicious). But ultimately, Damian's pursuit takes a knife to the core set of beliefs that dictates their concept of ugliness, or even the fact that the presence of ugliness necessarily implies the absence of desirability.

I just think it's pretty neat

[n0tsketchyy]

Headcannon that Alfred has a secret Instagram account. He just posts about the insane household accidents at Wayne Manor with literally no context. 

His most popular post is simply captioned "Master Tim set the kitchen on fire attempting to make toast. Again."

Somehow, the account has over 500,000 followers of people growing increasingly invested.

His other popular posts include:

Muddy footprints acrross a gorgeous ceiling: “I have many questions about how Master Jason's boot prints came to be on the ceiling of the east wing corridor. He refuses to explain beyond claiming it was 'definitely Tim's fault' and that 'gravity was being unreasonable today.' Master Bruce has requested I not ask further questions.”

A photo of numerous coffee mugs hidden in bizarre locations: "The ongoing archaeological expedition to retrieve Master Tim's forgotten coffee cups continues. Today's discoveries included one inside a houseplant, two behind the grandfather clock, and one inexplicably on the chandelier."

A broken window with an arrow through it: "Master Damian's archery practice has once again violated our agreement about 'appropriate indoor activities.' Master Bruce has been informed."

A ceiling covered in colorful splatters: "Master Dick insisted his acrobatic skills would allow him to carry an entire birthday cake while performing a triple somersault. The ceiling disagrees."

An image of a completely disassembled grandfather clock with parts meticulously arranged on the floor: "Master Barbara asked for the time. Master Timothy decided the clock was 'running 0.002 seconds slow' and required immediate intervention. Dinner will be delayed until the main entrance is passable again."

The east wing covered in rubber ducks: “Master Dick claimed it was 'for science.' When pressed further, admitted it was retaliation for Master Jason's previous week's glitter bomb incident. Have scheduled additional therapy sessions for all parties involved.”

Alfred never mentions Batman or vigilante activities, but the posts are so outlandish people straight up have conspiracy theories about them.

Follower: "Time travelers. It's the only explanation for how they survive. They redo the timeline when things go wrong."

@ ManorMishaps: "If time travel were involved, I would hope they'd prevent incidents rather than merely surviving them. The toaster budget alone would benefit from such intervention."

Follower: "Alien research facility. The purple slime? The color-changing ceiling? ALIENS." 

@ ManorMishaps: "I believe you've been watching too many science fiction programs. Though I must admit the ceiling phenomenon continues to baffle our contractor."

Follower: "These are clearly stunt performers for action movies. No normal family could cause this much property damage." 

@ ManorMishaps: "An interesting theory. However, I've yet to see any of our incidents recreated in Hollywood. They lack the imagination."

Follower: "Wait, is that a BATARANG in the background of the third pic???" 

@ ManorMishaps: "I believe you're seeing the shadow of an unusually shaped serving spoon. Nothing to see here."