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outoftheframework · 5 years ago

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characterization cheat sheet: the batfamily boys

Hey everyone! I had the idea to compile a comprehensive list of different traits and attributes for each member of the batfamily based off of both canon and fanon interpretations. I think this could be useful for new members to the fandom, or those looking to write and/or draw for these characters. Remember that these will have a slight bias considering I, a fanon creator, am creating the lists. But I’ll try to make them as accurate as possible.

Appearances vary from artist to artist, so I’ll try to stray away from general details and add more little things you can consider in your art.

Bruce Wayne:

Age: 35-45

Appearance: Extremely physically fit, but signs of aging and prolonged exertion can slip through. Has a collection of scattered scars varying from fresh to fully healed. Strong, dark features. Conventionally attractive, but can easily switch to be foreboding/intimidating. Well kept in public appearances, but can look like death incarnate when in private.

Personality: Dual personas: “Bruce” (at home, but not as batman) and “Brucie” (public appearances like galas, news interviews). Bruce is stoic, well-read and educated, well-mannered, and occasionally can be witty and laid-back. Smirks rather than smiles. Brucie is loud, spontaneous, charming, and sometimes oblivious. He is the womanizer and scandal-maker. Often the actions of Brucie are motivated by Batman’s interests.

Speech: Bruce was mainly raised by as English butler, so his speech patterns are proper and smooth. Rarely uses speech fillers such as “uh” and “um,” except when interrupted while concentrating. Despite living in Gotham his entire life, he has not picked up the accent. His voice is newscaster American, almost impossible to pinpoint to a certain region. His speech as Brucie changes to relate more to the audience he is addressing. Speeches to Gotham high society will sound different than those aimed to the general public.

Additional Attributes: Bruce Wayne in all of his personalities is fiercely protective, and can easily slip into a deeper voice to intimidate. Bruce can be extremely empathetic and slightly impulsive when it comes to children who have lost their parents. As learned through his training to become Batman, Bruce is disciplined and can work for hours straight.

Dick Grayson:

Age: 23-29

Appearance: Dick Grayson mirrors a young Bruce Wayne despite their not being blood related. This could be a subconscious action by Dick to absorb traits of his father figure. His lean acrobatic body starts to set him apart from Bruce’s image. Dick manages to be well-built but still limber and flexible. His feet and hands are rough and calloused. His hair can get long but usually stays at a length in between Bruce’s and Tim’s. His eyes are bright blue without even a hint of green or brown.

Personality: In one comic I believe it was Superman who said that Dick Grayson is a universal constant, meaning that on every alternate earth or timeline, you can always rely on him to be good and pure. I think this really sums up who Dick should be. He is kind to a fault, and can sometimes be naive and not think things through. He loves to love, be that in his family, in his romantic relationships, in his friendships, and even in strangers. He is a chronic hero who only wants to see the world as a better place. But it’s important to note that Dick can get angry when pushed, and holds grudges.

Speech: Dick is an extremely interesting study in speech patterns. As a child he traveled with the circus, until he lived with clear-spoken Bruce Wayne and a proper English butler. So influences to his speech and accent come both internationally and locally to Gotham and Bludhaven. As a child living at Wayne Manor, Dick picks up a slight Gotham tinge to his accent with some British flourish in his vowel sounds. He regularly speaks in slang. As Nightwing he is able to suppress his unique speech to sound more evenly American.

Additional Attributes: Dick acts differently around each of his family members as to be what they need in a big brother. For example, he is more fatherly to Damian while to Tim he is more an equal. Dick can fidget and has less of an attention span than Bruce. He can use jokes as a coping mechanism.

Jason Todd:

Age: 22-26

Appearance: Hair is often long on top and shorter on the sides, sometimes with a white streak as a side effect from the Lazarus Pit. Tallest and heaviest of all the kids, very physically intimidating. Has a lot of scars and burns, and in some fan works he has a “Y” shaped scar the length of his chest from his autopsy. Never skips leg day. Green/blue eyes.

Personality: Jason goes through a lot of character development, but for this list I’m going off a timeline of post-Under the Red Hood, where Jason is on okay, yet still a little shaky, terms with the rest of the family. Jason has a hard time separating vigilante life and civilian life; his death as Robin ended his life as Jason Todd, blurring the lines between the two. Jason is legally dead, so he is basically building an identity back up. He holds some attributes from childhood: brave, impulsive, loud-mouthed, and street-smart. But his experiences post-Robin have made him a hardened loner. He lives modestly and with some semblance of order. He’s hard to foster a relationship with, but can be a passionate friend/family member when he opens up.

Speech: Jason probably has the least influence from Bruce and Alfred’s speech patterns, seeing as though he spent a lot more time with his biological family/on the streets than he did as a preteen in the manor. He is the definition of Gotham vernacular, with a rough edge. So much so that as a child, the high society gala attenders sometimes had a hard time understanding him. Often talks in curt, short sentences.

Additional Attributes: He has trouble expressing his emotions, more specifically anger and/or grief. Can both love or hate furiously. Inherently good, but sometimes does “bad” things. Protective over children, especially those living on the street. Very much a believer in “the ends justify the means.”

Tim Drake:

Age: 17-20

Appearance: Pale skin, dark hair. Sharp cheek bones and jawline, mostly from how skinny he is. His body isn’t technically “built” to be extremely athletic, but he’s forced a nice lean build from stringently working out. Easily loses and gains weight as a direct result of his work, causing fluctuations in his build. Five foot something, will eventually be out-grown by Damian. Long hair that can still be styled to look professional.

Personality: Tim Drake is very passionate in pretty much everything he sets his mind to. He feels as though he imposed himself onto Batman to become Robin, so he works twice as hard to prove his worth. He can be self conscious and deprecating. Tim as Robin or Red Robin is very different than civilian Tim; his hero personas can be bolder and more confident. Despite dropping out of high school, he values education.

Speech: Tim grew up rich, and his speech reflects an intelligence gained from private tutors. Despite this, he knows how to interact with those his age in using less formal language and slang. Often quotes books and movies. Can be awkward and stumble over his words when teased by his friends/family. He can manipulate people easily in business settings by talking fast and confidently while explaining complex topics.

Additional Attributes: Tim’s demeanor is directly tied to his varying levels of confidence and anxiety. Tim is has above-average intelligence and is diligent in detective work, but can still act like a teenager. He can be stubborn to extremes and will patiently play the long con. He does not cope well with loss.

Duke Thomas:

Age: 17-19

Appearance: Short dark hair, shaved on the sides and/or the back. Often wears the colors yellow and black. Around the same height as Tim, but a little taller. Stronger and heavier build more alike to Jason than Dick, but he’s still light on his feet. Expressive face that can give away his feelings easily. Still a bit of a baby face, but he’s still well-proportioned and conventionally handsome.

Personality: In my works, I’ve often described Duke as having a “sun-shiny” personality. He is one to not even think twice about putting others before himself. Duke uses his own personal experiences to guide him as a hero rather than suppress his emotions. Duke went from being an only child to having a large family, so he can sometimes feel overwhelmed. He is on friendly terms with every member of the batfamily, as well as many other heroes. Duke is self-sacrificial and is still learning how to effectively work as a detective.

Speech: Duke grew up in a middle class Gotham family, so his speech is influenced by his parents as well as his city environment. Duke has a mild Gotham accent and speaks a lot in modern slang. He hasn’t had much influence from Bruce and Alfred, considering he hasn’t lived with them for long. It’s possible that as he grows he will pick up some influences from Bruce and Tim’s way of speaking, but will most likely hold onto the accent of his childhood.

Additional Attributes: Duke is a metahuman vigilante in a city where Batman typically bans them, which causes a bit of an insecurity and a perfectionist drive. These are exasperated by the long line of history preceding him, as well as the fact that he involved himself in the Robin movement rather than being handpicked by Batman. He and Tim can relate in that way. Duke is an ardent student of Batman and is dedicated to the cause.

Damian Wayne:

Age: 10-14

Appearance: Looks similar to Bruce when he was the same age, yet stronger and with tanner skin. His hair is expertly cut and styled, but still age-appropriate. He is the shortest of the batkids, but still has a lot of time and potential to grow. He pretty much won the genetics lottery with Bruce and Talia as his biological parents, and is made for athletics. He has some scars that stand out with their pale coloring against his tan skin.

Personality: Damian is slowly becoming less of a brat, to put it bluntly. He admires his family and tries to mimic them, but will never confess it. Damian is quick to judge and will voice his opinion no matter how scathing it may be, both as civilian and hero. Damian is slowly realizing he may not want the Batman mantle as quickly as he planned. Jon is a perfect foil to Damian, and often makes him a better person when they’re together.

Speech: His speech is proper and formal. Prefers formal titles: ex. “father” over “dad” and last names over first. Damian is at least bilingual (Arabic and English), and can switch between languages easily. Most of his speech patterns developed from his tutors in the League, and more recently, Alfred. Influences like Jon and Dick have introduced him to a more modern, laid-back way of speaking, which he sometimes utilizes when relaxed.

Additional Attributes: Damian has problems with authority, especially those that he doesn’t respect like his teachers at school. He can be arrogant and childish ever though he often acts like he knows everything. Damian is still a child and has much to learn from batman and family as well as unlearn from his time at the League. Dami was forged to be a ruthless warrior, but now has to find a balance between the hero Robin and the child Damian Wayne.

Hope this helps someone! Feel free to add on if you think I missed anything. Just please remember to be civil and respect different interpretations of these characters. Let me know if you want another one of these posts outlining the girls or other characters.

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years ago

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Stalker X Stalker, Part 7

First

Perma tag: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever

No I didn't get carried away with writing domestic fluff and forget to do the one thing I was supposed to with this chapter I'm a professional and would never do that

It took a long time for Tim and Cass to convince Marinette that, no, it wasn’t a trap, it was just a normal Halloween Party. It took even longer to explain what a Halloween Party really was, because apparently it wasn’t a huge deal in France.

But, eventually, she got it:

“Okay, so every Rogue and vigilante has to go to his Halloween Party in stupid costumes… or else?”

Tim nodded. “Rogues have to go because he’ll be insufferable, we have to go because otherwise we’re leaving a bunch of Rogues alone together without supervision.”

“And it really is just a Halloween Party?”

Cass flashed two thumbs up.

Marinette still looked a little confused. “And we… we want to babysit the Rogues?”

“They mostly behave themselves. Again, Crane can be insufferable when he wants to be and they have to spend a lot of time with him in Arkham.”

“I guess that’s cool then…” Then, a thought seemed to occur to her because she brightened up. “Is Nightwing coming?”

Tim nodded, suddenly a lot more wary. “Yeah, both he and Flamebird drop by for most holidays, anyway, so they might as well… why?”

She blushed a little. “I kind of wanted to see if I could get him to train me. I think his fighting style is pretty cool.”

Tim was not jealous or annoyed that Marinette might like two of his brothers more than him. He was fine if she liked Cass more, because Cass was, well, Cass. But Dick? Damian? Come on!

At least he had a month before the party to prepare himself.

For now, he glared at Cass, because she was laughing at him behind her hand.

Then he remembered that Marinette was still there and was watching the two of them interact with a vaguely confused expression and he pulled himself together: “I don’t know if he can teach you much since he’s usually in Bludhaven, but I used to be obsessed with the guy and I know all his moves by heart.”

She tipped her head to the side, considering, then smiled at him. “Sure. Thanks, Red, I owe you one.”

He tried to hide his relief behind a smile. She smiled and blushed, so he was pretty sure it worked.

Marinette smiled as she scrolled through the Batinternet on her phone (they’d finally given her the password! She no longer had to waste data!). The batkids were all working on the computer, trying to hack into their father’s files to see their Christmas presents.

She didn’t get why they were doing it then, it wasn’t even Halloween yet. Still, they insisted that Batman was always prepared well before the holidays hit. She was curious about what they’d find, if anything, so she waited as Red Robin hacked their dad’s files.

Loud cheers erupted from the others, which meant they must have found something.

“... right, Ladybug, yours is easiest to get into… he probably didn’t expect you to try… he’s getting you an Xbox and a bunch of games to go with it.”

Her gaze shot up and she surged to the front of the group to see. “Really?”

Red Robin pointed at the screen and she blinked a few times. Yep, that was a customized Xbox. Wild.

Then her shoulders slumped. “Damn, I was only kidding. If I knew he was actually going to get it I would’ve asked for a Playstation.”

She continued looking at all the ‘random’ games Batman had bought her (he was suspiciously good at guessing what she liked), completely oblivious to the fact that she had accidentally started World War III right behind herself at the casual mention of a thing she wanted.

She glanced back at them once during their fight and they straightened instantly, innocent smiles in place. The hand Red Robin had in Robin’s hair turned into a hair ruffle. Black Bat had turned the way she gripped the collar of Spoiler’s shirt into pulling her down for a hug. Signal’s eyes stopped glowing under his domino. She smiled a little and turned back to the screen to look at the rest of the games. Fighting resumed.

Or, at least, it did until Marinette saw the file name.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“I knew you fuckers took my blood,” she hissed irritably.

She wasn’t exactly scared, the bats seemed generally well-intentioned, just paranoid, but that didn’t mean she liked it. They stole her blood to figure out her identity without asking.

They all tensed up behind her and looked at each other awkwardly.

Robin was first to snap out of it. He swatted Red Robin over the back of the head. “Look what you’ve done, Drake.”

Marinette blinked and then pulled her gaze back to Red Robin. “Drake?”

The batkids looked at each other awkwardly. Except for Red Robin, who was glaring at his youngest brother.

Spoiler was the first one to come up with an excuse: “It’s an older codename. We told him to come up with something original since everything else he’s used has belonged to someone else first… and that’s what he came up with.”

She considered whether Drake really confirmed that Red Robin was Tim Drake-Wayne. On one hand, yeah… but, on the other hand, was he really that stupid? Would he really use his own last name for a codename?

She supposed that, in all her time knowing Tim and Red Robin, he had never shown himself to be original. Smart, sure, but a little unoriginal.

So, yeah, Tim was almost definitely Red Robin.

But she was prepared to ignore it for now. Every bat seemed tense at the idea of her learning their identities, so she played dumb:

“It’s not that bad of a codename. Dragons are pretty cool.”

She could feel Black Bat still staring at her, but everyone else relaxed almost imperceptibly.

“He didn’t base himself off of dragons, he chose male ducks,” Robin informed her.

She blinked. “Why the hell would he choose ducks?”

Signal snapped his fingers and started pulling out his phone. “Oh, Mari -- can I call you Mari? -- you should see his outfit.”

Red Robin realized he was about to get murdered for his younger self’s outfit choices and tried to snatch the phone away.

Unfortunately for him, while he was concentrating on Signal, Black Bat had sidled over to Marinette. She tugged her arm to pull her attention from the two fighting boys and then showed her the picture.

Marinette stared at the ugly cockroach outfit for a long time before taking a deep breath: “Alright, first of all...”

Tim… he was fine.

Okay, no, he wasn’t.

The tracker was better, he would admit. She had even started wearing more red and black so she could wear the necklace more (something that made him feel all fuzzy inside), but she wasn’t wearing it every day and he couldn’t exactly tell if the necklace was there because she was home or if it was there because she’d worn a different outfit.

So, he only had one solution: randomly dropping by to do chores with her.

It started off with the ‘might as well’ principle. They were already out for photography and getting ideas for outfits, why not pick up some groceries while they were on their way back? She could even carry more since there were two of them.

He quickly dropped pretenses, though. The one time every few days that they hung out wasn’t enough to keep her in the house, and even if it was she clearly wasn’t fond of staying inside for long periods of time. He started dropping by every day to just go out with her.

He could tell his family was getting a little suspicious about what he was doing, Steph and Cass both narrowed their eyes at him whenever they saw him leaving the office at a normal time and once he had caught Duke following him to see where he was going… but it was fine. They weren’t going to complain about him actually getting some sort of down time.

And, he had to admit, it was nice. Not only did resting his brain for an hour or two a day do wonders for his mental health, he just… enjoyed doing chores with her? He didn’t think he would. He’d expected to like it the first few times, the novelty of going on his first grocery shopping trip or figuring out how a laundromat was always going to make it interesting and new for a bit, but it didn’t seem to be wearing off.

He was pretty sure that was because of the person he was doing it with, though.

He smiled as he watched Marinette half-climb the supermarket shelves for a bag of Takis.

“Need help?” He called.

“Nope!”

He watched her jump a few times on the lowest shelf before, eventually, climbing up another shelf.

Tim winced and surged forward to support her weight a little.

She huffed and grabbed the Takis. He set her down.

She crossed her arms. “I said I could get it.”

“I trust you. The shelves? Not so much. Do you want to die crushed under a bunch of chips?”

Her halfhearted glare morphed into a grin. “If I die any other way you have to promise to resurrect me so I can do it again.”

He rolled his eyes. “How about I resurrect you and you try not to die again for a while?”

“Hm… I guess that’d be alright.”

Then, at the laundromat, Tim saw a bunch of Two Face’s henchmen. How did he know that they were henchmen? The black and white suits kind of gave them away.

He was just wondering whether it was worth it to try and call Duke over so they didn’t risk something happening when he realized that Marinette had slipped over to them.

But she wasn’t concerned as she offered some of her detergent. “Hey, if you need to wash lights and darks together like that… you’re going to need a different detergent. I know those are cheap but there’s a reason for that.”

“Isn’t that just an old detergent problem?”

“No, separating every single color into a different load is. But, if you want to do pure black and white like that… you don’t want to risk it.”

Then she turned and glared at another goon, who was pulling their luckily still okay clothes out of the washer.

“You’d better not be putting that in the dryer.”

The sheepish look on the henchman’s face was answer enough.

She huffed. “That is airdry only why would you do that --?!”

And that’s how they ended up friends with -- and possibly under the protection of? -- a bunch of henchmen. Tim had to admit, they were really nice when he and Marinette weren’t trying to get them thrown in jail. He almost found himself slipping and hoping that Frank managed to achieve his mob boss dreams. He actually did offer to babysit Sam’s kids while she had a shift because she seemed very stressed.

“Tim, darling, do you even know how to take care of kids?”

Tim didn’t know whether to blush because she had called him darling oh my god or due to embarrassment at that massive oversight.

“Uh… would you be willing to help?”

Marinette gave him an exhausted look. “I’ve only ever babysat one kid at a time without their older sibling being there to help.”

He quickly changed the offer to paying for a babysitter. Sam was thankful regardless.

When everyone had finished laundering their clothes to Marinette’s satisfaction, the two of them headed back towards her apartment.

Tim changed the position of the laundry basket on his hip so it didn’t dig into him as much. “You know, you didn’t have to help them.”

She snickered. “First of all, you’re absolutely wrong. I couldn’t just sit by and watch them ruin their clothes right in front of me!”

He rolled his eyes, trying to hide the fond smile on his face. “And second of all?”

“Secondly…” She let him into the house and closed the door behind him. A cheeky smile formed on her face. “Well, they’re henchmen. Don’t you think it would be a good idea to have them on our side in case things go wrong rather than indifferent to what happens to us?”

It was here, with her smiling in front of him, intelligence sparkling in her eyes and the necklace he gave her hanging from her neck, that he realized that he was going to fall in love. He might not be there yet but, if they continued doing things like this, he was sure he would.

He wouldn’t mind that, he thought, as she leaned forward to take the basket from him, pressing a kiss to his cheek on the way over. He watched her disappear to her room, no doubt to fix whatever damage he had done while carrying it that would be invisible to anyone but her. He shoved his hands in his pockets and went to start up the coffee machine.

There are no botanical gardens more beautiful than the ones in Gotham. Whether that was because Poison Ivy herself tended to them or because they were kept in tip-top shape to appease her, Marinette didn’t know. Whatever the reason, it was gorgeous and Marinette had gotten quite a few different ideas. She pretty much had an entire spring collection planned out…

It was unfortunate that she’d gotten ideas for a spring collection in the middle of autumn, but she was ignoring that.

Now, they were sitting on her couch. They needed to relax after all that walking around on top of a rather exhausting night the night before (Scarecrow had broken out of Arkham to start preparing for his Halloween Party). She was completely in his space in an attempt to mess with him. It, unfortunately, didn’t seem to annoy him as he lazily rested his head on top of hers.

She huffed a little but allowed it.

He fiddled with the settings on his camera, biting his lip.

She looked down at the camera and asked: “How’d you get into photography?”

“... it’s a kind of personal story,” he said carefully. “A little sad, too, I guess.”

She tried to pull back, an apology on her lips, but he just rested an arm around her shoulders and held her close.

“It’s fine.”

She nodded as much as she could with the head resting on top of hers.

They were silent for a long time. She tried to relax herself. There were no akumas in Gotham, it was okay to accidentally upset someone and it was okay to ask them if they wanted to elaborate. They were people, people are supposed to feel sad sometimes. It’s healthy.

She took a deep breath before curling more into his side. “Would you like to talk about it?”

The arm around her tightened almost imperceptibly. “I… I guess I can, sure.”

“You don’t have to,” she said quickly. In fact, she might be a little more comfortable with that. Emotional conversations weren’t a Parisian’s forte.

But he sighed and shook his head. “It’s fine. Our relationship can’t progress all that healthily if we never tell each other anything.”

Yikes. Way to accidentally call her out on the fact that she hadn’t formed a healthy relationship in years, Tim.

“Not that I’m all that great at healthy relationships,” he said after a minute.

At least she wasn’t alone, she supposed.

“No easy way to say this, I guess… my parents weren’t the best. They’d go on trips -- they were archaeologists -- and I’d be left home alone, usually for months at a time.”

She cringed internally and took his hand in hers, rubbing comforting circles into his palm.

He sighed lightly. “So… I was lonely, obviously. I started by taking pictures of my parents. Sometimes it was all I’d have of them for months. They could leave, but the pictures weren’t able to.”

She felt him bury his face in her hair.

“I started following the bats after a while. I don’t know if it was because I wasn’t sated by pictures of just the two of them and decided to expand, if it was because they had a happy family despite a distant father and I wanted that for myself, or if it was because I wanted my parents to find out and be worried about me, or a mix of all of that… but…”

She slowly moved the camera off of his lap and pulled him into a hug. “But?”

He was silent for a bit, thinking over his answer. He shrugged and wrapped his arms around her. “It was an old coping mechanism. A way of feeling connected to people when I couldn’t actually be.”

“‘Was?’ What changed?”

He laid back on the couch and she allowed him to pull her down beside him. “People around me… started ‘leaving permanently’.”

She winced. Oh.

“It hurt a lot more to look at the pictures after that. It just felt like a reminder that I was alone.”

She frowned. “But… you’re taking pictures of me, now.” Her eyes widened. “Shit, did I accidentally trigger --.”

He shook his head quickly. “No, no. Well, kind of, but it’s okay! Every time they’ve died, it was because of some sort of shortcoming on my part. I think I’ve learned from all my mistakes. You… I won’t let you get hurt, okay?”

Marinette didn’t know how to respond. On one hand, she was pretty sure that she should be assuring him that, even if she did end up dying, that he shouldn’t blame himself… on the other hand, she had no intentions of dying and she was pretty sure it was nearly impossible for her, so maybe it was a good thing that he had chosen to protect her of all people? Maybe the problem would solve itself?

She didn’t know.

She carefully took his face in her hands, pulling him to look her in the eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, okay, darling?”

He gave her a tentative smile. “I sure hope you’re right.”

He had been asked to stay the night. Her excuse was that she was almost done with an outfit for him and she wanted to give it to him the second it was done and, by the time it would be, it would be too dark to go out safely.

Tim kind of felt bad that he had worried her but he wasn’t going to turn down the offer of staying over and watching her finish the outfit.

But, first, food. They dropped a million takeout menus on the desk. A long silence stretched between them as they looked at all the options.

“... what do you want?” Asked Marinette.

“I’m not in the mood for anything in particular, you?”

She sighed. “I don’t know, do you want anything?”

“I don’t want anything, what about you --?”

This continued on for about three minutes before Tim got a brilliant idea. He dialled Damian’s number and put it on speaker.

“Drake. Why are you calling? Have you been hurt?”

“No, Dami, I’m getting takeout and I was just wondering if you had any ideas.”

Marinette gave him an affronted look, but he clapped his hand over her mouth before she could warn Damian that, no, he wasn’t buying food for him he was just going to be an asshole.

“... I suppose I wouldn’t be averse to Chinese.”

“Thanks, Dami! Hope you can get Alfie to make that for you.”

“What do -- ?”

Tim hung up on his very confused younger brother.

Marinette frowned as he removed his hand from her mouth. “That wasn’t nice of you, that’s a kid.”

Tim was not about to get beaten by his brother in both identities, thank you very much.

“Alfred can cook better than anyone in the world, he’s not going to suffer.”

She snorted. “I doubt he can make food better than…” She picked through the takeout papers for a few moments before holding up a menu. “... this place!”

He squinted at the menu. “... I really hope you can speak Mandarin.”

“You’d be hard pressed to find a language I can’t speak, Timmy,” she said, absently dialling the number.

Well, he supposed that explained how a person from France knew ASL and could speak English like a native. Damn. Now he kinda wanted magical god-earrings so he could speak every language in existence.

She spoke cheerfully to the person on the other side of the line for a moment before turning to Tim. “What do you want?”

“Uh… shrimp fried rice?”

She rolled her eyes and flicked his nose. “Alright, fine, white boy.”

“It’s a safe option okay --!”

She wasn’t listening to him explain why fried rice was the best choice for him because she was relaying the order to the person on the other side of the line. She hung up with a smile.

“Food will be here in about three minutes. Do you rich people have small bills or do you just use them for tissues or something?”

He raised his eyebrows. “They go down to a hundred, right?”

She pressed her lips together thinly, clearly unsure whether or not he was joking.

He snickered and shook his head. “Nah, I think I have twenties and fifties…”

“Yeah, that won’t do. We’re going to get robbed,” she said, reaching into her purse.

“We? Didn’t know I lived here, too,” he joked.

She barely even glanced up from where she was counting money. “Honestly, with how often you’re here, you might as well move in.”

He choked. He wanted to say something smart or funny or smooth, instead all that came out was: “You --? I --? Uh --!”

She snickered behind her hand. “Love, relax, I’m just kidding. You don’t have to leave your fancy mansion with all your siblings --.”

“Wait, don’t make living here sound even better. I will do it purely to get away from them, don’t test me.”

She rolled her eyes with a grin. “Maybe that's the plan, you’ll never know.”

Tim had exactly zero idea whether they were joking or not anymore. The tone and reactions made him pretty sure they were kidding, but… what if they weren’t?

He was just gathering the courage to ask when the doorbell rang, pulling their attention to the food. She continued counting for a second before running to the door and swinging it open.

He walked up beside her awkwardly as she chatted politely to the guy to take the food inside. He knew, logically, that Marinette was actually way stronger than he was… but his stupid brain saw a thin, short woman in need of someone to help her carry things. So, he took it from the guy with a smile.

The delivery guy glanced Tim up and down before asking Marinette something. She laughed and gave a shrug. Tim did not know what was going on but he felt vaguely insulted.

He was definitely learning Mandarin after this.

The moment the door closed he whined about being insulted. She looked amused.

“You know what he said?”

“... no,” he admitted.

Her lips twitched.

“... you’re not going to tell me, are you?”

She snickered and leaned over the two bags of food in his hands. “So, you got the fried rice, right?”

“Mariiiiiiii.”

“Your food is going to get cold.”

“Beeeaaaan,” he complained.

She raised an eyebrow at him, a blush spreading across her face. “Bean?”

He grinned, feeling heat creep to his own cheeks. “I don’t know, I couldn’t think of anything for a nickname. First thing I thought of was coffee beans, so: Bean.”

“Wow, you’re such an addict,” she teased.

He continued pouting at her until she gave in.

She leaned forward to press a kiss to his nose. “He asked if you could use chopsticks or not so he could get you a fork if you couldn’t.”

He felt the blush on his face deepen. “Oh… I can’t.”

“That’s fine.” She grabbed a tote bag from the floor of her pantry and pulled out a set of plasticware.

He blinked. “... you keep plastic forks?”

She shrugged and tossed the bag back in her pantry. “Plastic forks, grocery bags, napkins, a few sets of chopsticks…”

“... why?”

“Some of us are minorities, darling.”

“What --?”

She hummed tunelessly as she worked.

Tim had fallen asleep on her shoulder. Had most of this been an elaborate plot to make him finally get some sleep? Possibly.

She didn’t feel all that bad, though. With how much he overworked himself both as Red Robin and as Tim Drake-Wayne… honestly, she was beginning to doubt that he slept at all. And, really, if a vigilante coffee addict with a magically enhanced physique is worried about your sleep schedule, you’ve got problems. Intervention was needed.

Don’t get her wrong, though, she was going to make up for lying to him. She’d move him to her bed and leave a cup of coffee for him on the bedside table. Maybe she’d even make him breakfast, it depended on how tired she was in the morning.

But that was for when she was done. For now, she was working on the last part of the outfit: she needed to lace up the corset. His posture needed a little work and she didn’t have the heart to tell him that to his face.

… besides, corset vests are cute. She wished more guys would wear them.

She smiled to herself as she pulled the last bit of lace through and tied a loose knot. Done.

She looked down at Tim. Loose strands fell in his face as he slept. The tiny wrinkles in his forehead disappeared, making him look much younger. His lips curled into a slight smile at whatever he was dreaming about.

He looked so genuinely at peace. She hated that that was abnormal for him.

She couldn’t help but worry a little about what he’d said earlier. He’d claimed that the reason he had gone up to the top of that building the day they’d met (as Tim and Marinette) was to scout out a location for photography, but now that was seeming like a lie because he apparently preferred taking pictures of people over locations… so, why was he up so high? He’d known it was illegal to be there, so she doubted he thought anyone else would be…

She swallowed thickly.

She didn’t think his mental state was that bad… but, just in case it was, she waved Tikki over for a bug and sewed it into one of his sleeves.

Tikki was looking at her disapprovingly. Marinette ignored her.

It was Ladybug’s job to make sure everyone was doing okay mentally, and she wasn’t going to fail a person she cared about of all people.

His head slipped from her shoulder onto her stomach and she sighed, trying to lightly push him off without disturbing his sleep. It didn��t work. He made a quiet sound in the back of his throat and buried his face in her stomach, his arms wrapping around her tightly.

Well, this is her life now.

… she supposed it wasn’t so bad, though.

#stalker x stalker #shutterbug #timari #maribat #timmari #timinette #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #red robin #tim drake #yes it's all just maladaptive coping strategies #it's ME what'd you guys expect

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ellana-ravenwood · 5 years ago

Text

Sick Day - Batfam x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : It’s never fun to be sick. Duh. But when you have loving parents there to take care of you, maybe it isn’t so bad ? Just short little snippets of the first time each Batkids fell ill in Wayne Manor, and how Bruce and his wife (you :D) dealt with it.

Another “burst of the moment inspiration” story, just a little drabble. Promise I’ll post something more elaborate soon :), hope you’ll like it :

My master list blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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(Thanks to that anon who mentioned the kids getting shots, that gave me with this an idea on how to start this fic :D. The original beginning was different, I think I like that one better hehe.)

"Mister Wayne, if you keep doing this, I'm not going to be able to give your son-Bruce for god's sake !"

Leslie Thompkins, for the first time in her long career, was about to lose her patience and give up on...giving a simple shot to a baby.

She has seen worried parents before, of course. The one that clung to their child’s hand, or those who would cry because their little one was in pain…

Babies that young, who had to get vaccinated for the first time, never really experienced this sort of quick pain before.

A lot of them would cry more out of surprise than because it really hurt. Oh and when the parents were extra worried, you could be sure the baby was even more likely to burst into tears, sensing his parents' distress.

Yes. doctor Thompkins gave shots to a LOT of babies, and saw a LOT of worried parents before…But never had she met someone quite like Bruce Wayne.

He always came to her when his kids were sick. He could go to a fancier office, or to one of those pricy fancy private hospitals. But no.

No because, when it came to his kids’ health, there was no one he trusted more than Doctor Leslie Thompkins.

So it was no surprise when he brought his youngest son, Thomas, to get his first shot ever. What was a surprise though, was his reaction.

"And now you know why I'm always the only one in the room when this happens."

You say, smiling apologetically to the doctor. But ah, at least your husband's reaction eased a little the tension in your body brought by the mere idea of your baby being hurt.

Every single time Leslie got the syringe close to your little one, Bruce would reflexively grab her wrist and stop her from giving the shot to his son.

Ridiculous, really.

But it seemed it was something he couldn't fight.

He apologized the first time he did it, as Dr Thompskins smiled and said it was ok, rather amused. But then the second time, it was getting clear he didn't seem to quite control himself. At the third time Bruce was visibly sweating. Dr Thompkins finally snapped as she tried for a fourth and fifth time to give a shot to little Thomas (who, at barely 2 months old, was much too young to even understand what was happening, but by his little smiles it was clear he was happy every time his father would come into his vision).

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just…I thought I could do it, but I can't."

And oh. Oh it's adorable the way he turns to you, his eyes saying "I'm sorry" as he takes his son back in his arms and holds him against his chest. You weren’t sure if it was to comfort little Tommy, or if he was comforting himself.

"I think I should just let you two handle this ?" He asks, unsure. He doesn’t want you to be mad or to think he’s abandoning you.

"I think this is a good idea Bruce, yes."

You smile at him reassuringly. It’s fine. It was always fine.

"I'm sorry, sorry I'm letting you do this alone once again. I just can't…"

"Oh it's ok my Broosh, I know you hate shots. I can handle it, and little buddy here sure can too."

Thomas coos happily as you pick him up delicately from his father's arms. Bruce resists a bit, before finally giving in and letting you take hold of the little one.

He lays a hand on his son's head, looking fondly at him (of this look he only gives his children, of this pure look full of unconditional love, and a hint of “what did I do to deserve this sort of happiness ?”) and then sighs, press a soft kiss to your forehead, murmuring a last “I’m sorry, my love” and leaves the room.

He feels a little ashamed to let you do this once again, but you've always been the strongest one out of the two. After all, you willingly decided to marry a man like him…

"Alright Mrs Wayne, ready ? And here we-oh not you too (Y/N) !"

"I'm sorry I'm sorry, I don't know what took over me, it was just a reflex too !"

You apologize, as you let go of the doctor's wrist…

Yeah, it was just a gut reaction to seeing a scary needle approaching your baby's thigh. In your line of um, nightly work, you came to be very wary, of syringes. You still remember vividly that time Tim got hit with one of Scarecrows’ needle, and how terrible this night had been...

"Ok ok, now is fine. Go. I'm ready. Go fast though, now. Now I’m not looking. Go. Go. Go."

Tears welling up in your eyes at the mere thought of this happening, you look away as you hold your son still (something he doesn't like as clearly shown by his little sound of protest, and as he starts to fuss about), and in one, two seconds…it's done.

And not a peep from your son.

He just stopped making any sound (he've always been rather vocal), his eyes went wide, and he made a face that looked like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to cry or not. Then there’s one more second, and Leslie had a soothing bandaid on his little leg, and you were holding him against your heart, and the pain was so fleeting and already gone, that he just gets over it quickly, feeling your love.

Calming down instantly, not noticing the tears in your eyes (thank god, or it’d be a sure way to make him weep too).

And so he doesn't cry. And everything is ok again.

“Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it ?”

“Actually, it was.”

You say, barely holding your tears in, your son cooing in your arms

“Um...I was talking to Thomas.”

Leslie answers, amused. And just like that, you both burst into laughter.

After a few minutes of this uncontrollable fit of giggles, you thank Leslie for her help, and leave the room, joining your husband who had been walking back and forth in the waiting room, nervous.

He comes immediately to you and Thomas, and as soon as the boy sees his dad he smiles widely and giggles. Bruce gives him a soft smile, before turning to you :

“How was it ?”

“For me ? Not great. For Tommy ? He didn’t even utter a sound. Our little guy is brave !”

You kiss your son on his forehead, and he giggles and coos even more. There’s a short silence, before Bruce says :

“I’m sorry...”

And then he takes you in his arms, sandwiching little Thomas who’s protesting a bit. Damn, his parents could be so clingy !

“It’s ok my Broosh, I already told you. It’s ok.”

You sort of knew since you stepped into the doctor’s room that you’d end up being the one having to hold your boy anyway.

You knew oh too well how squeamish he was whenever HE had to get a shot done (and oh who would’ve thought the big bad bat hated getting shots so much uh ? You were pretty sure he would rather getting actually shot than take a tiny needle in his arm any day of the week...Alfred always had to fight with him to inject anesthesia when treating him for wounds). It was actually sort of a requirement, that you’d be next to him to give him your hand when he absolutely had to get a shot.

So understandably so, he always skipped on his children’s vaccins. He just couldn’t bear to see anyone he cared for to get that very things he hated so much, it just made him feel ill.

And you’ve always been fine with this. Since that very first day when you took Dick there...But Bruce always felt bad.

Because whenever you’d get out of the doctor’s office, you’d have fresh tears in your eyes, because you were just too pure for this world (is what Damian would say).

Dick always took advantage of this. He was never really scared of shots, and thought they didn’t really hurt...But oh, oh he would always cry a river of crocodile tears just so he’d get extra cuddles and ice cream.

And then, that cheeky little bugger passed that knowledge of “when we get shots, or we get sick, the parents literally let us do WHATEVER we want !” to his little siblings (you were actually pretty sure your kids would pass secret ways to manipulate you and Bruce along to their younger siblings and..you were oddly fine with it. You loved those kids too much to care, really).

This thought reminded you of that very first time Dick fell sick, shortly after you and Bruce officially adopted him.

And how much you guys freaked out.

It was both a pleasant, and terrible memory.

And oh. Oh you already dreaded the day Thomas would have his first real fever...You still remembered how it happened, with all your other children.

“What is it ?” Bruce asks, always knowing when something was on your mind. And so you say : “Nothing bad, this just reminds me of when Dick got sick for the first time while with us...”

A light of recognition ignited in Bruce’s eyes, he knew exactly what you were talking about.

Bruce only had fond memories of when he was sick and his mom and dad would take care of him.

He thought they were the best, wether they’d hold a “barf-bucket” for him, or stay up all night because he was too feverish...

What he never realized though, is that having a sick child was actually absolutely terrifying ! Bruce often felt sick himself, when the kids were ill.....ah, but nothing ever beats those first time each of them got sick.

DICK

Dick wasn't as young as Thomas, when he first came into your life. None of them were. But he was still a cute little bean, your baby.

Eight years old, and oh so sweet and nice and cute and you could just squish his little cheeks all day (albeit from the few outburst of anger at times, but hey, he was but a child, every kid throw tantrum from times to times).

He had been living with you and Bruce in the Manor for the past six months, when you had your first fright, and realized that being a parent meant being worried about your kid's well being for the rest of your days

Dick was definitely a tiny kid when he came in your life. He was rather short, only having a growth spurt when he was around 14/15. Barbara Gordon used to tease him to no end about this, up until he finally caught up with her and ended up being taller.

But yes, his small stature for his age, maybe made you baby him even more than the others, sometimes.

Ah. That first time little Dick Grayson was sick at Wayne Manor.

You. Freaked. The. Fuck. OUT.

You and Bruce, both.

Coincidentally, Dick became ill ON THE ONLY FEW DAYS OFF ALFRED WOULD TAKE A YEAR !!

Every year, for a theater festival, Alfred would take off to his homeland, to England, in London to be exact, for but a few days.

The three of you were in the batcave. Bruce was getting ready to go out, while you were on the bat computer and Dick was training on the side, doing some acrobatics on the trampoline Bruce installed.

And then he came to you, pulling on your sleeve, and he was so pale...

“I don’t feel too well.”

He said, right before throwing up for a few way too long seconds, as tears welled up in his eyes...it was never nice to throw up, and once again, no matter how mature he acted, you were reminded that Dick was but an eight year old child.

But he wasn’t only crying because throwing up fucking sucked. He was also crying because he thought you were going to be mad at him.

You reassured him, as you cleaned his little face up, and Bruce (who looked quite green himself...later on, you’d discover than when his kids or you were sick, he felt sick too...quite a strong reaction, really) carried him upstairs.

You were frantically googling how to take care of a sick child, as Bruce stayed with Dick, holding a bark bucket to his face, and drawing soothing circles on his back with his hand.

The panic dumbed the both of you down. It seemed like you couldn’t think, as you tried to make Dick as comfortable as he could.

You could feel your anxiety blowing through the roof, and knew that Bruce was close to have a panic attack himself (he was prone to them, although you and Alfred were the only one who knew).

You didn’t know what was worst, the fact he was sick and had no idea what you were supposed to do, or how much Dick was sobbing and apologizing.

“Should we call Dr. Thompkins ?”

“I don’t know her number, Alfred is the one that calls usually...”

“Should we take him there then ?”

“I don’t know, Alfred is-”

This went on for a little bit, as Dick was throwing up and crying. Saying “sorry !” every two seconds. But...Instinctively, Bruce was trying to soothe him with those warm pats on his back. And you were caressing his hair, empathetic. And...

You decided to not go to the doctor today, Dick was sick, but not sick enough to take him to an emergency. And in Gotham ? Leslie was needed for a lot, especially in evenings like this.

“Alfred um, gives me flat soda when I have a stomach ache ?”

“On it !”

You say, bolting on your feet and running to the kitchen, taking a cola and opening it up. Meanwhile, Dick’s fit calmed down, and he seemed to instantly feel better as he probably threw everything he needed to up...

He seemed content, cuddling against Bruce as the man was softly patting his back in small circles, and using his other hand to hold his head delicately.

You and Bruce were definitely not experienced parents yet, and it showed.

It showed by those first few minutes of utter panic, as your child got suddenly sick. And it showed as how you instantly just thought of calling Alfred...

That day, you both realized though, that you couldn’t always rely on the butler when it came to raising your son. For situations exactly like that one.

Both you and Bruce were still young, and scared to make mistakes but..You had to try. And you had to keep a cool head. Your motherly instinct kicked in.

It was so odd, seeing the big bad bat, wearing his costume without the cowl on (he didn’t have time to take it off as he rushed upstairs with the boy in his arms), looking so worried...

Bruce was so pale, and you could see that in a way, he felt his son’s pain too...Which just made your head click, and take action.

“Ok, ok we can do this. Keep the barf bucket close, let’s wait for the soda to get flat, and um...let’s try to distract him. A movie, perhaps ?”

Dick nodded, and although he wasn’t throwing up anymore, he seemed too weak to stand up (or maybe he was faking, could be, honestly, with that one...doesn’t matter) so Bruce carried him again.

And it was a sight. Bruce was a tall man. And Dick was a very small kid.

It was cute. and in that moment...In that moment it felt like you both suddenly realized what it meant, to be a parent.

Bruce, holding his son in his arms, feeling the little one’s heartbeat and slowed breath as he was kinda nodding off...was this how his own father felt, when holding him ? It was nice. It was a surge of pure love, and knowing that he would die for that kid if he had to. Hell, he would burn the whole world, for that kid.

It was so odd. The situation wasn’t that crazy, Dick probably just ate something bad, and with the trampoline and all the jumping around...he got sick.

As a child, you had those rapid sick moments of having a bad stomach ache, which would turn into throwing up, to then feel better. Those sudden moments when your own parents would take care of you...

Ah. You hadn’t realized how much worry being a parent would bring. Bruce didn’t either. You guys adopting Dick felt like an obvious thing to do. Felt like it was meant to be...

But it wasn’t just yet, that you felt like a mom. Or a dad.

It took some time to build. Just like it took time for Dick to call you “mom” and “dad”. And in that moment, as your kid (yes, your kid) was sick, that was it...

Finally. Yes. That was it.

You were a mom.

Bruce was a dad.

Dick was your son.

Of course you panicked as he suddenly got sick. But now, it was in your hand to properly take care of him. And thus started the first ritual you’d ever make with one of your children.

Dick, when sick, liked chicken noodle soups. Made by you. He liked cuddles, up until he turned 12 or 13, then he acted as if he was too grown up for them. This eventually stopped when he turned 19, not long after Jason’s death...He regressed back to a little boy in some ways, and needed you. And Bruce.

You’d often drive to Bludhaven just to give him chicken noodle soup and sprite, when he got sick. Even as he grew older and older...He loved it. No one could ever beat his mom babying him, when he felt under the weather.

JASON

"Hey buddy, are you ok ?”

“Yes, yes I’m ok mom.”

He smiles at you sweetly, his eyes half-closed, and clearly still relishing in the fact that he can finally call someone “mom”. But this happiness he felt whenever he realized he was finally safe, and had a home, was oddly dimmed, this morning.

“Are you su-OH MY GOD !”

Your hand is burning, as you lay it on his forehead.

He’s burning up !

“Hey wow hey, kiddo, come here, you’re not feeling well are you ?”

But Jason shakes his head, and says :

“No I’m good. Just tired, but I’ll wake up soon.”

He smiled again, but it felt all wrong.

Of course, you didn’t take his words for it, even if you knew Jason wasn’t a liar. But the fact spoke for themselves, your kid was NOT alright. No matter what he was saying.

Turned out, you were definitely right. He really wasn’t alright.

In fact, Jason had...pneumonia. A bad case of it. That he probably caught when he was playing earlier that day, in the snow, with Bruce, staying out up until his lips were blue and he was soaking wet !! Bruce could just never resist him, and didn’t have the heart to say “no” when the kid kept asking on playing more...

He dearly regretted it. But you reassured him, this wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t.

You rushed to the hospital, Bruce holding a tiny little Jason wrapped tight in a few warm blankets. And the doctor confirmed you made the right call, taking him to the ER.

It wasn’t like with Dick, where it was obvious the boy had a mild sickness. No. Jason really looked bad, and ready to drop.

You and Bruce let once again your parental instincts kick in and...It was the right call.

When Jason woke up, he let out a string of apologies and you realized...You realized the kid was terrified you wouldn’t want him anymore if he bothered you too much. Was scared to death that you’d want to take him back where you found him, that you’d give up on him.

His real life father bolted at the first signs of troubles. His mother was a drug addict for whom he was never good enough to try and get cleaned up.

He was abandoned, over and over again along his short life and...he was absolutely terrified that if he was too much of a nuisance to you two, you and Bruce would leave him as well. That you wouldn’t bother.

And it broke your hearts.

Softly, when Jason finally got better, after a few days of utter nightmare for you and Bruce, you took him home. He still needed some rest, as he was a little sick, so you tucked him comfortably in his bed and finally, you told him :

“From now on, you promise me to tell us when you don’t feel ok ? Wether you think it’ll bother us or not. You will never bother us, little buddy, ok ?”

“Ok”, Jason said, unsure.

“What do I have to say or do, to convince you you’ll never be a nuisance to us ?”

The question took Jason by surprise, and he wasn’t quite sure of what to say. In his feverish state anyway, he had a hard time thinking. He heard himself say :

“Stay with me ?”

“Of course. Always little one, always.”

And as he softly drifted to sleep, feeling the cold and soothing towel you would wet over and over again to put on his forehead, he heard you hum a song from your childhood, that would become a song always sure to put him to sleep.

He was out, when Bruce said : “I’ll stay home tonight.” A shame, really. Because maybe, maybe if he heard that the Batman was going to skip patrol just to keep an eye on him...Then he’d know he would never bother him. Ever.

That he would forever hold a dear, prime place in his heart.

Jason woke up the next morning, and found you and Bruce asleep on the floor, right next to his bed. You were still holding a towel that had long since dried up, and one of Bruce’s hand was clutched tightly on your shirt.

The basin full of cold water laying on his bed side table was almost empty. Jason smiled.

He felt better after a few hours of good sleep, and slowly got out of the blankets, pulling them with him, to then lay down next to you two, throwing the thick quilt over all of you.

Later that day, Alfred found the three of you all cuddled up. He snatched a picture. Picture that was framed, amongst some of your favorite of your children, in your office. And in Bruce’s.

The way you sung him to sleep when he was sick...When he died, it was the last thing he thought about. When he saw the bomb would explose before Bruce could save him.

He thought of how soothing it was, to be taken care of by you. And your humming voice rung in his ears, as he realized he was going to die. Right there.

Oh. Oh he wished he could be a little sick eight years old again, forget all his worries, and just fall asleep with the sound of your voice in his ears, while his dad would hold the both of you in his arms...

TIM

“Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, go back to bed this instant !”

Tim was the most difficult one, when he had a fever. He was a bit of a workaholic (like father like son ?), and always wanted to help. He hated being too sick because then he felt useless.

Your boy just wanted so much to be there for everyone, that he often forgot himself in the process and...yes.

His first real fever/sickness was punctuated by you constantly trying to get him back into bed.

You almost never even knew Tim was sick !

The boy was so used to taking care of himself, that he tried to handle everything on his own. He even took an appointment to the doctor himself ! But then, before having the chance to go there, he passed out in school, which resulted in a call from his principal that ended in Bruce almost having a heart attack.

You understood him of course. It wasn’t really a nice feeling to be called out during a business meeting to have someone tell you your son passed out in school !

It was just a little flu, but the fever and lack of sleep got the best of him.

Bruce didn’t even tell anyone where he was going, as he rushed to the school. You met him there, as he was walking out of the building, with a little sleepy Tim in his arms.

“I can walk, I swear I can walk.”

The boy was saying, yet his head was on his dad’s shoulder, and the up and down bobble of Bruce’s walk was clearly putting him to sleep.

Your husband settled your son in the car, and drove home.

“He was trying to convince me he could finish his school day, and that he had a group work today and didn’t want to let his friends down...”

“Sounds like Tim alright...”

You said, looking back at his sleeping form in the back seat.

Bruce nods, but you could see something was on his mind. You always knew, when something was on his mind. Brushing a few fingers on his cheeks, you ask :

“What is it, my Bruce ?”

His eyes are on the road, of course. But he flicks them quickly to you, and he knows. He knows he can’t lie to you, or get away with telling you half-truth.

You’ll know, if he’s not really telling you what has been worrying him. He takes a deep breath and, with a small voice says :

“Is this...my fault ?”

At first, you don’t understand, and you say :

“I’m pretty sure it’s because that boy never wears a damn sweater, and we’re in Gotham in the middle of Winter haha.”

But then...Then you realize what he means.

He’s talking about the fact that Tim always seem to overcompensate for something. Always seem to want to be there for everyone, forgetting sometimes he’s just a ten years old boy.

Tim was the only one out of his siblings that became Robin for no personal reason, but just because he loved Batman and wanted to help him. Just because he wanted to help people.

He didn’t have a tragic backstory (although he unfortunately got one later on...), he didn’t have a reason to become Robin, other than his good nature and really wanting to help...

And Bruce let him. Allowed him to do this. Even after what happened to Jason, he let Tim sneak in your life and become Robin.

You’d argue that Tim didn’t leave you guys much of a choice, and sort of had a “well I’m gonna help you no matter what, deal with it” sort of attitude. But you understood your husband’s worries.

He was afraid that he was the one that made him that way. That it was because of him, that Tim worked his health off.

“Oh, Bruce, my Heart...No. No it’s not your fault. It’s just how this amazing little boy is wired. I actually think that thanks to you, he’s more focused and taken care of. The gods can only imagine what Tim Drake would’ve done if he hadn’t been trained by Batman himself...If you said “no” to him pestering you about becoming your Robin, he would’ve taken it upon himself to go out there anyway. And then...I can only imagine what would’ve happened. So no. No it’s not your fault. It’s just...how he is. He reminds me of you a lot, actually. And I’m so, so glad he managed to convince you...Couldn’t imagine my life without that little one in it. Even if he does give me grief often, overworking like that. But it’s not your fault. It’s not. On the contrary.”

It took you a while, to convince Bruce he didn’t create Tim the way he sort-of created Dick and Jason. But you managed to, as you always did. You could be very convincing. Plus, the boy helped. It was clear his dedication came from himself mainly, that he was just born this way.

Too clever and smart for his own good, destined to be a Robin...and maybe a Batman, one day ?

Yes. Tim was the only one that wasn’t in it for himself. For personal reasons. He just wanted to help...

But after that first time he got sick, he understood that sometimes, it was ok to rely on you or his die. That in fact, he would gladly do so !

That day, Bruce carried him to his bed, even as the boy protested he was alright. Finally, you’ve had enough and ended up sort of lecturing him...gently.

“You need to rest, sometimes, ok ? If it’s too much, if you’re too tired, physically AND mentally, you need to take a few steps back...and let others take care of things, and of you. Ok ?”

“But-”

“No buts Timmy. It’s important. If something bad happens to you because you’ve been ignoring your own body, your own self...What will happen to those you want to help ? In order to continue what you’re doing, you need to take some pauses. Like right now. You are sick. You passed out in school. So...It’s gatorade and crackers time.”

Gatorade and crackers.

Tim’s favorite drinks and food.

Gatorade and crackers.

Two things that were rarely found in Wayne Manor. You always tried to give healthy balanced meals to your kids. Especially to Tim, who had the opposite of a balanced diet when he came into your lives (the fact he often had to take care of himself as his parents were too busy meant he often chose his own food...and of course he’d rather have ice cream than broccolis).

But the fact that you were now giving him Gatorade and crackers meant...Meant that Dick was right. When they were sick, you would do anything to make them comfortable.

Coincidentally though, Gatorade and saltines helped out, when one was sick.

On that first time he became sick after starting to live with you, Tim found that it was ok, to relax sometimes. That he didn’t have to waste his life away 24/7 for others, and that he could enjoy some down time.

It only happened when he was sick, to your great dismal. You constantly tried to convince him to take a break (just like you did with Bruce...but although it worked with your husband, especially as he got older, Tim was just very stubborn, and wanted to help too damn much). You even had to trick him into it often.

So although you hated seeing your kids in any kind of pain, you were almost glad when Tim got sick. Because it meant he would really take care of himself. Or rather, letting you take care of him.

That first time he got sick, he ended up leaving his bed...only to go cuddle up in yours and Bruce’s, and enjoy some down time. And learn that, it was ok, to take care of himself.

Hell. You’d hammer this fact in his head if you had to.

Gatorade and crackers, while watching movies in yours and Bruce’s big bed, was why Tim thought that in the end, being sick wasn’t too bad.

Extra points if you two were in the bed with him, snuggled up all nice, safe and warm.

CASSANDRA

Cassandra didn’t like TV, when she was sick. Instead, she liked you reading her stories better. And you’d read to her all day, if need be. Switching from time to time with your husband.

She had trouble sleeping, even when sick and weak. Listening to your voices telling her all those wonderful stories was soothing beyond measure.

The first time she fell sick while at Wayne Manor though, her first reflex was to go hide. Because when she used to be sick with the man who called himself her “father”, with David Cain (that scum), he used to get so mad at her.

As if it was her fault, she became sick.

So she’d run away. Curl into a ball. Wait for it to pass. And then face him, healthy again. It was easier to confront him when she was ok...So she’d rather run away and face the consequences, rather than stay around him while sick.

And so, her first instinct was to go hide.

She went to the attic, and did what she used to do.

Curled up in a ball, in front of the round window. And wait. Alone.

It’s Bruce, who found her. He was casually checking the GPS he put on his children. They still thought they got rid of it, the sweet kids...but as if he’d only implant one. He knew it wasn’t really ethical, but after what happened to Jason, he wasn’t willing to take any chances.

During the day, he would check a few times, and usually during boring office meeting, to see where they were. That day, he saw Cass in the Manor’s attic, and didn’t think much of it. Cass was a curious one, who took it upon herself to explore everything in the house.

But when he came home, and she was still there, his guts told him something was wrong...He rushed to the attic, and found her.

And his heart stopped, when he saw her laid on the floor, curled up into a ball, and softly moaning because she had a bad fever.

She wasn’t asleep, even in this state she fought sleep, afraid to have nightmares (and while having a fever, she couldn’t just wake up to escape them...).

Bruce carried her out of the attic, holding her tight in his arms, his heart bleeding as he realized why she isolated herself while she needed help.

People often misjudged Bruce on that matter. Saw him as a cold harsh man. But oh; oh if it was touching his children or you...He would feel so much. Too much, even. He just loved you all to death.

When he brought her downstairs, and you saw her, you immediately entered “mom mode” and fussed over her, getting everything you needed to make her comfortable...but as it turned out, all she wanted was to feel yours and Bruce’s presence.

To hear your voice, and feel you were there.

And so without thinking, you picked up a book and started to read it to her. And you could feel her relax, let her guard down. A rare occasion she would truly let herself be chill.

The first time Cass got sick while living under your roof, her first instinct was to hide and lick her wounds all by herself. It was to lie on the floor and hope it would pass fast. It was-

The second time she felt under the weather, she immediately went to you. It was early in the morning. And it’s only thanks to Bruce’s amazing reflexes that Cass didn’t throw up all over you two, as he pulled you away from her just in time...To then take care of changing the sheets, while you held your daughter’s hair as she threw up in the master’s bathroom’s toilet.

And then Bruce went downstairs to take a “barf-bowl”, the one actually, that her mom used to take for him...ah. He always used that one for all the kids. Call it nostalgia.

The second time Cass got sick while under your care, she didn’t hide. She wasn’t dreading it, even as she got even sicker than the first time. No.

No because now, she knew she’d always find you so you could take care of her. Ah, and Dick, Jason and Tim gave her many tricks to fake being sick and have you all for herself...

DUKE

Duke was older than any of your kids were when he started to live at the Manor. He was already in his teens. He wasn't a tiny bean like the rest of them, when he came in your family...

And yet. Yet the first time he fell sick, you babied the hell out of him.

So what if he was sixteen ? Doesn’t mean he couldn’t have all the care a child should have when he wasn’t feeling well.

And so you were ready to take care of him, when Alfred came to you this morning to tell you “Master Duke” wasn’t feeling well.

However, when you got to his room and indeed saw he was feverish, he refused to talk to you and just wanted to be alone.

And then it hits you.

Duke was sixteen.

He wasn’t a lost little eight years old boy who had just lost his parents, or never even had parents. He wasn’t a child in dear need of love and cuddles.

He was sixteen.

And he wanted HIS mom.

What happened to his parents was too fresh.

And they weren’t dead...In a way, seeing them lose their mind with no chance of ever getting better was worst.

Duke was sixteen.

And there, sick, all he wanted was to have his mom’s care again.

Yes. Duke’s case was different than all your other children. Because his parents were still there. Because he was older. Because everything was so fresh, at the moment.

In time, in the coming years, he would come to feel just like his siblings did. But right there, just mere few weeks after he moved to the manor, and mere few days after Bruce helped him find his parents...

Duke was homesick.

He missed his dad. But he missed his mom even more. Probably for the same reason that your kids loved to have you around so much, when they were sick...

There was no doubt in your mind that Duke’s mom was amazing at taking care of him when he felt ill. She probably had her own tricks, to make him feel better. Tricks that you did not know...And so you asked.

You simply asked.

Because you wanted to make him feel better. You wanted to be there for him, even if right now, he didn’t want you around.

If he truly wanted to be left alone, you’d leave some medicine and leave him be. But your guts were telling you he was just sad, and the sad was translated into him pretending he wanted to be alone.

Your guts were right.

Duke wanted his mom. Yes. But he also didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts, right now...He just didn’t want to hurt your feelings. He knew how motherly you could be. He didn’t want to project his mother on you. He-

“What do you need ?”

You asked, and the answer came to his mind instantly. He spoke before even realizing he was doing it :

“My mom used to make a perfect drink of warm water, honey, ginger and lemon.”

And as you tried to recreate his mom’s drink, never quite getting the measurements right (you could see on his face it wasn’t like his mother’s), Duke slowly felt better.

Because...Because yes. He missed his mom. And the way she took care of him. Especially on sick days. But...It wasn't everywhere that one could find someone who cared so much, that they were willing to spend their entire day trying to get a drink right, right ?

And when Bruce came home, and asked him if he was “alright champ ?”, Duke realized one thing...

Yes. He wanted his parents. Yes, he missed them like hell. Yes, his sick days would never be the same...

But he wasn’t alone. As Bruce joined in trying to make the perfect drink of “warm water, honey, ginger and lemon”, Duke came to the realization that his situation wasn’t as desperate as he thought, this morning, when he woke up feeling under the weather, and without his mom to take care of him.

Because you were still there. And were planning on staying there for a very long time. Of course, you could never replace his mom. Just like you never replaced Dick’s, or Damian’s...You just, became another mom to them.

And Duke...That first day of being sick in Wayne Manor ? He felt like he was finally willing to let you become his second mom. To let Bruce become a father figure. To have this found family, in this tough times...

Sick days were never the same than when he was a little kid and still had his parents around.

Duke was sixteen. Growing up wasn’t easy, especially after what he went through. And sick days would never be the same...But it didn’t mean they wouldn’t be nice, as he slowly let you and Bruce, and his newfound siblings, take care of him.

Yes. To have this found family in this tough times was quite a joy.

DAMIAN

To the surprise of many, Damian actually didn’t resist too much being taken care of when he first got sick under your roof.

Damian actually loved being sick, because it meant snuggles time with you, safe and warm under a blanket on the couch, watching his favorite movies. It meant your soothing fingers running in his hair, making him feel peaceful and relaxed.

It also meant that he’d have you all for himself.

With five siblings (with a sixth one on the way), it wasn’t always the easiest thing ever, to get his mom only for himself. Yes. He loved to be sick, and babied by you.

The first time he got a bad fever, a few months after he arrived at the Manor, he dreaded falling ill because...

Well. Because he was raised in the League of Assassins. And being sick, no matter how much, was not considered reason enough to not train. To not do what his grandfather told him to do.

He used to work through the sickness. Even if he felt like passing out (and he did, a few times, which earned him hours from his sleeping time taken away...).

So Damian hated being sick.

Until. Until he became ill for the first time when living with you.

By that time, you and Bruce had learned how to manage a sick child. And although Bruce still felt physically ill too whenever his children were, he managed nowadays to be somewhat ok and take care of them without wincing.

It happened not long after Damian started to call you “mom”. He fell asleep while you guys were watching a movie and...it’s what instantly told you something was wrong.

No matter how bad a movie would be, Damian would NEVER fall asleep in the middle of it.

Ah, and sure enough, as you checked his temperature you realized he had a bad fever. And so you carried him to his room, tucking him into bed.

He woke up as you were doing that, and looked at you, utterly surprised. What was going on ?

“Get some rest buddy, you’ll feel better soon.”

You said, smiling. And at first, Damian didn’t understand. He had been so conditioned in ignoring his own well being, that he didn't realize something was wrong with him. But then, you laid a hand on his forehead, and said :

“Ah it doesn’t seem like it’s such a big sickness, I’ll go get you some medicinal tea and...What do you want to eat ? If you’re hungry ? Maybe you’re not, sometimes when I’m sick I just don’t wanna eat anything.”

Sick ? Was he...Sick ? Yes. He was. But it was so mild, that he didn’t even think he needed to rest. Or...Didn’t he ? He was just so used to still work even when sick.

“What-What about school ?”

He asked, and he was surprised his voice sounded so weak and tired. Was he always feeling like that when sick ? Yes. But...Something was different.

And then it hit him.

“I think it’s ok if you skip a few days’ buddy.”

The difference was that, when he was sick while amongst the League of Assassins, he was always terrified that his grandfather got tired of him and send him hitmen (it happened a lot before, while he was sleeping for example, and it always happened to test him, test if he was ready, and willing to kill and ask questions after). That he didn’t find him useful enough.

While here, with you, he felt safe. He felt loved. He felt warm.

And so his body wasn’t in a “fight or flight” state. He was just...sick. As any normal kid would be.

When with the Al’Ghul, he somehow managed to convince himself to keep going, to work through the pain. And oh, it’s wonders, what the brain can do when you really want to.

But here. Here he didn’t have to act tough. To keep walking or he’d end up dead. Here. Here he was safe. And loved.

So he felt the sickness, the fever. He felt it’s true effect.

“What do sick people eat ?”

He asked, and at first you didn’t think much of it. You started to tell him Dick loved chicken noodle soup while Tim preferred saltines. Cass would never eat much, neither would Jason, but they’d always say yes to some flat sodas.

He seemed unsure of what he wanted, so you asked him a simple question :

“What do you usually eat, when you’re sick ?”

It was such an innocent question. But it made him almost cry.

Usually ?

Usually...

“Well...”

He hesitates, and you sense there’s more to things than you originally thought. Finally, after looking at your encouraging smile, he says :

“When I was sick before, I still had to train. And then they’d tell me I’m weak.”

In one sentence, you understand everything. And you could punch yourself for ever thinking that he got taken care of when sick. And then the next second, you hold him tight in your arms, and once again, Damian is surprised.

But pleased. He had been touched starve most of his life, this was nice.

“My poor baby...”

He didn’t even complain you called him a baby, and let you hug him. And then...Then you spend time with him, trying to find the perfect ritual to make him feel better while he was sick.

You had such rituals with everyone. Formed on the day they first got sick. Damian needed his own thing too...

Thus was created the “couch nest”.

It involved covering the living room’s couch with at LEAST one quilt, then Damian would bring the pillows (and maybe some stuffs animals, or even real ones...Titus often sneaked in) from his bed, and you would tuck him in with one or two more quilts.

He would then spend the rest of the time watching TV and movies with you. Or with his siblings. Or his dad.

And it was so comforting, to be wrapped up like that. Almost like laying in a hug. It made him feel like he was perpetually held by you.

Damian used to hate being sick. Because he hated being weak.

But this changed. Just like he changed. Thanks to his family. Thanks to you.

Now, just like Tim, he almost loved, being sick...

************

“This sort of reminds me of that time Dick got his first fever...”

You were thinking about all those terrible, yet sweet days, of your children being sick, as you walked up the stairs to your house, a hand tightly weaved around your husband’s.

Bruce was holding a sleeping Thomas in one of his arm (the boy was so small he could even fit in one of his hand, really), and felt relaxed. Here. With his son, and his wife, the love of his life. And with the knowledge than when you’d push the door to your house open you’d-

“Father ! Mom ! How is he !?”

Both you and Bruce quickly put a finger on your lips, and Damian throws his hands on his mouth, regretting his scream. But he was just so worried.

He couldn’t come with you to the doctor’s office as he had school (plus you were pretty sure he would’ve been 100 times worst than Bruce, trying to stop Leslie by any means necessary), and had been thinking about his little brother’s first shot all day.

Damian, just like his dad, wasn’t very fond of shots. He hated that his brother (wether the youngest one, or one of the older one, really) had to go through this.

It was always silly to you, how both Bruce and Damian, who’ve been through much worst than small little shots, hated those so much...Silly, and very cute.

Damian was looking critically at his brother, checking him silently for any signs of distress, for any “mistakes” Doctor Thompkins would’ve done, and seemed satisfied that the boy was fast asleep in his dad’s arm.

And Bruce...Bruce was smiling.

He felt so relaxed. And happy.

When you pushed that door, it opened on Damian rushing to the two of you, worried about his little brother. But it also opened on Alfred, who baked some comforting food, and brewed some tea for you, knowing how hard on you this sort of things could be (and yet how you insisted to take your kids to the doctor yourself, and not let Alfred do it, because you wanted to be there for them).

It opened on Cass smiling, and ruffling Damian’s hair as to reassure him.

It opened on Tim, who took a small break from his college study to come down and spend some times with his siblings, ready to relax in front of a movie (it was family movie night !).

It opened on Duke, who’s hands were full of DVDs, and who was excited to try to convince y’all to watch “Ninja and Pirates 6″, or something of the like.

It opened on Jason, who was smiling in such a way that no one would ever know all the things he went through. And it made Bruce feel all nice and warm inside...even as the little shit mimicked him having to take a shot. Squirming and looking as if he was about to faint. And ah, he hated to admit it, but his boy was impersonating him really well.

And it opened on Dick. His first kid. The one that, one day when getting sick, was who made Bruce realize what it truly meant to be a dad. The one who knew the best how much he hated seeing any of his children sick, or getting shots.

On Dick, who was laughing really hard at Jason’s impersonation, and giving him feedbacks about what to improve to make it even better.

The door opened on his family.

And as the ruckus surrounding him woke Thomas, as Damian yelled at Jason and Dick for being so loud, and as Bruce’s eyes fell on you, while you looked at your little tribe with love in your eyes...

Bruce felt relaxed. And so, so, oh so happy.

________________________________________________

This is yet another one of those stories I’ve been posting a lot lately, that do not take me very long to write and in which I don’t put that much effort, but that I really enjoy writing nonetheless ^^. And I hope you enjoyed reading it :), I’m nervous actually this isn’t up to your standards hahaha...Yes, hope you still liked it. Don’t hesitate to leave a little feedback etc etc ^^. Thanks in advance !

See you soon with something much longer and on which I spend a lot of time working ;).

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sun-moon-stars-jedi · 4 years ago

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So we all know that Jason is a theatre kid, right? That boy loves Shakespeare and the classics, and he’s got such a natural flair for drama, he was practically born for the stage.

I imagine during his time at Gotham Academy Jason might not have had many friends or been really all that social on account of his background and most of the other students being snobs, so he wasn’t very interested in spending more time at the school than he had to. The one after-school activity Jason just couldn’t resist joining though was the theatre club.

What I want to get at is that somewhere in Wayne Manor there are videotapes hidden in a closet of fourteen-year-old Jason performing in his first (and only) school play, complete with Jason beaming at Bruce and waving at him after the final bow and Bruce’s proud “That’s my son!” coming loudly from behind the camera.

Those tapes haven’t seen the light of day in a long time and as such Tim and Damian have absolutely no idea what they are when they stumble across them one afternoon while cleaning the Manor (Alfred’s newest form of punishment when they get into fights).

As detectives the two of them obviously have to find out what’s on the tapes (and also they’ll take any excuse to stop cleaning - the Manor is freaking huge, you know?) so they unearth a VHS player from somewhere and hunker down in one of the less used sitting rooms, hoping that it’ll be a while until Alfred finds them slacking off.

At first they’re kind of disappointed when a stage and some clearly untalented teenagers appear on the screen, having expected something much jucier hidden away in the depths of the house.

But then little Jason Todd walks onto the stage, in costume and everything, and the video becomes a lot more interesting.

At first Tim and Damian are grinning, exchanging a rare, completely in sync look, because they both recognize an opportunity for blackmail material when they see one.

But then Jason begins to speak and they are both instantly captured by how confidently his words carry across the stage, recognizable even on a VHS tape, how he moves as if the stage was all he had ever known, how all the other actors seemed to gravitate towards him and their perfomances seemed to get better just because Jason was there.

They realise that Jason is good at this.

And not just a good actor like all the Bats are when they have to be, but with Jason it seems to go deeper, something coming alive in the boy they are watching from across the years, like he has found a place where he can shine on the stage.

Tim and Damian get so sucked into the performance that they don’t even notice how much time passes until they hear a soft “Oh” from behind them and turn to find Bruce standing there, something vulnerable and longing in his expression as he watches young Jason on the screen.

Neither of them says anything when their father joins them on the couch, eyes never leaving the TV, and together they watch until the play ends, Jason’s smiling face the last image on the screen before it turns black.

They sit there in silence for a while, each of them obviously thinking about the bright young boy they had just watched and comparing him to the Jason they know now. And yes, Jason isn’t trying to kill them anymore, he’s even working with the Bats most of the time and somewhat reluctantly acknowledges them as family, but he’s still so closed off, as if he doesn’t allow himself to come back fully to the family out of some sense of self-punishment.

“Jay‘s a good actor,” Tim finally says, the words inadequate, but they break the silence that had started to become oppressive. “Did he like the theatre club?”

“Yes,” Bruce answers, his mind clearly far away, “he wouldn’t shut up about it for months. He was so excited they gave him the lead in the next play because his first performance was so great, but then...”

They all know what happened then, and instantly the silence is back, heavier than before.

“Excuse me,” Bruce mumbles and then it’s just Tim and Damian on the couch, looking after their retreating father before meeting each other’s eyes.

And they may not have the easy brotherhood between them that they share with Dick, or the understanding that is so inherent in every interaction with Cassandra, but in that moment Tim and Damian both know exactly what they have to do and that they will do it together.

So it comes to pass that Tim hacks into Gotham Academy to find out which play the theatre club performed the year Jason died while Damian somehow bullies his way onto the theatre club and manages to make them pick that same play for this year’s performance.

And so Damian, pretending to be deeply unhappy about it, asks all of his siblings to help him prepare at home, because the imbeciles he goes to school with are obviously not on par with his own acting abilities, and even though his siblings are also not as great as Damian, they are adequate for the purpose.

Dick of course agrees immediatly, always eager for family time. Cass just smiles knowingly at Damian (and Tim) before she nods and Tim pretends to be annoyed but eventually agrees under the pretense of wanting blackmail material.

Jason takes the longest to agree, finally doing so with the declaration that he just wants to see Damian make an ass of himself in front of his whole school, but Tim and Damian can tell that underneath he’s actually excited about this.

So from then on the five of them meet regularly, which has never really happened outside of patrol, and it turns out they really have a lot of fun together. They joke, tease each other, make fun of Bruce, the usual stuff, but everything feels lighter when the thing bringing them together isn’t Bat-related for once.

Jason also starts to spend a lot more time at the Manor, not only with his siblings, but also with Alfred and eventually even Bruce and that is something Tim and Damian hadn’t expected, but they certainly aren’t complaining. It’s finally like Jason is a real part of the family again and they both have to admit they like having their big brother around - he’s different from Dick, rougher around the edges and not as openly affectionate, but it’s nice to not be babied or told to go to bed at a sensible hour, and Jason is always up for a prank war or other dumb ideas, so Tim and Damian actually have a lot of fun with him.

Then, after months of preparation, the play of course finally has to be performed.

Damian claims he wants a proper rehearsal before having to perform in front of the whole school and it’s not as if the other Batkids don’t know their parts by now, so they build a makeshift stage in the ballroom of the Manor and finally perform the full play, with Bruce and Alfred as their audience.

And while Jason was of course good in the rehearsals before, the moment he steps onto the stage this time it is once again as if he has found his true calling, as if something inside him has come awake that makes him radiate with confidence and charisma. His performance is breathtaking, so much so that his siblings oftentimes nearly miss their cues because they are so captivated just watching him.

After the final line a silence falls over the room, as if everyone is holding their breath, until it is broken by Bruce standing up, clapping as he looks from one of his kids to the next, something fiercely proud and loving in his expression.

His gaze meets Jason’s last, and they just look at each other for a long time, something seeming to settle between them after all these years. It’s not that time has been rewound and this certainly doesn’t erase the past, but maybe if they can have this moment that they both thought lost to a crowbar and an explosion, there can be others like it.

Tim and Damian share a look and even a tentative smile, and maybe this whole idea wasn’t only good for Bruce and Jason’s relationship.

When Damian stands on his school’s stage the next evening he finds six faces in the crowd that are only focused on him, and there is even a camera standing on a tripod next to his father, who is smiling proudly up at him.

Next to him sits Jason, draped casually across his seat, but he’s also smiling and leaning against Bruce’s shoulder in a way he wouldn’t have just a month or two ago, and that certainly makes this worth it, even if Damian will have to endure several more performances next to some of his less than talented classmates.

The things one does for family...

#jason todd #batfam #bruce wayne #damian wayne #tim drake #I know the timeline with videotapes doesn't fit anymore but let me have my fun #they make me nostalgic okay?#headcanon that turned into a fic halfway through #...oops #did dami have to join the theatre club for real?#no but he's a bat and that means he goes all or nothing #dick grayson #cassandra cain #my writing

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fancyfade · 4 years ago

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Batfam as Jedi

Okay so my brain is combining fandoms again anyway so was thinking of what people would be if they were Jedi and what lightsaber forms they would use

Bruce: Bruce uses Soresu IMO because that one’s the one where they often emphasize redirecting attacks when you block and that’s how he almost always describes martial arts when he’s teaching the batkids like using your opponent’s momentum against them. Or maybe he uses Shien which was like made to make up for Soresu’s weaknesses in terms of offense but has similar deals wrt defense. Bruce uses 1 semi long lightsaber

Dick: When he’s fighting on his own Dick uses Ataru because its the flippy acrobatic form tho he’s familiar with other lightsaber forms (assume everyone is at least somewhat familiar with most forms i’m not going to bother putting that in all of their things) due to how long he’s been training. He’ll use what is needed though and he often uses Shii Cho if he’s fighting a lot of different people in a team battle. Dick uses 2 medium length lightsabers

Cass: Cass knows all 7 lightsaber forms but she likes Soresu for when she’s in a big battlefield because of the focus on deflecting blaster bolts (that’s why it was originally made I think deflecting blaster bolts). She prefers to fight with her hands and is mistaken as an Echani sometimes but she’s not Echani, she just had instructions from Echani when she was being trained by star wars version of Cain. She can block lightsabers with her hands (worked to master that due to preferring her hands) but uses a lightsaber when she has to protect a lot of people to get more reach on her deflecting blaster bolts. She has a pretty long double bladed lightsaber for this purpose but if she ever fights another lightsaber user 1v1 she turns off the lightsaber and uses her hands. Cass is definitely a Jedi Guardian. She should also be pretty good at reading people’s emotions and thoughts (though she chooses not to read people’s thoughts) to mimic the jedi version of her body language reading)

Barbara: When she was AB Barbara used Niman (form vi, pretty balanced) now she kind of adapts a lot of stuff to work from her chair. Rather than using lightsabers she uses two cortosis sticks to be able to move her chair without deactivating her lightsabers. She’s a consular but prefers not to straight up engage in combat if she doesn’t have to (She keeps her Oracle role) but is capable of kicking ass when she needs to.

Duke: I think Duke should have one like “special” force ability that not everyone can get to parallel his meta powers. Like his light powers let him see the future and all Jedi kind of have some degree of precognition (mostly just like danger sense) maybe he can see further into the future? To a better degree than most Jedi can, it’s not like he sees a force vision “something bad is going to happen” and it’s a one time thing, maybe he can go through a battle step-by-step in detail before it plays out? IDK I mean this might make him slightly OP but i think he’s supposed to be really powerful so who cares. He also has above average awareness in terms of what is going on right now and how far away he can detect people and their emotions or thoughts, and like Cass he’s above average at reading emotions and thoughts (though this is to mimic his extrasensory meta powers not cass’s body language reading) He uses a double bladed lightsaber that can separate to be two separate lightsabers (and they are yellow to match his signal suit in the DC comics). I think he’s still deciding which lightsaber form he wants to use he relies on Niman a lot but is taking influence from other forms as he’s making his own way of fighting.

Damian: Damian just gives me Jedi Consular vibes maybe its because of the times he tried to use magic (I think that was in his shitty teen titans run i’ve only seen out of context panels but also. I think Damian should be allowed to use magic occasionally, as a treat). His preferred fighting style is Makashi (the one that matches more straight up sword duel stuff) which I think he would have learned from Ra’s (it seems like what Ra’s would use lol). He has pretty well-balanced force abilities and is better than you wold normally expect for Consulars at lightsaber. I also think he should be pretty good at force healing to mimic his surgery skills

#couldnt think of anything for steph and tim so theyre not here #but whatever #dc comics #star wars #batfam #damian wayne #duke thomas #barbara gordon #cassandra cain #dick grayson #bruce wayne #jedi

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bigskydreaming · 4 years ago

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I’d say the thing about some characters lending themselves better to some stories than others actually can apply to the Batfam as well, and is a sign of how well-developed they actually are. I know I’ve ranted in the past about the tendency to try and fit the Batkids into niches like the smart one and the angry one and all of that, but in terms of story TYPES, I think they do have certain niche-like feels that mean some of them are better suited to certain GENRES of story than others.

For instance....I didn’t love Grayson, but that was more due to the overshadowing circumstances and the fact that I just think King and his writing suck. A lot. But the basic premise was not at all out of Dick’s wheelhouse. He IS well predisposed to kinda globe-trotting, spy versus spy, switching disguises like they’re outfits, making the most out of his ability to make friends everywhere he goes and turn enemies into allies.....those types of stories. Not saying these should be his only stories, by any means, or that he can’t center in all kinds of other types of stories, but I’m just saying, these kinds of stories do have more of a Dick Grayson feel than they do various other Batkids.

Similarly, Jason is better suited to gothic horror types of stories than the others, just in general. His history with the Lazarus Pit, his general disposition, his THEMES, like....they speak to the same kind of aims and tones that gothic horror both births from and embodies.

This might just be me, but to me, Tim is best suited to kinda oddball, off the wall sorta stories, and that’s part of why I’m so meh on him just being shelved into the uber-genius, mini-Bruce, heir to the best detective mantle kinda thing. I’ve spoken before about how much I miss 90s Tim, but to me, Tim was always at his best, and at his best-defined, most feeling like uniquely HIM, when he was playing the underdog. When he was just this well-intentioned kid who plunged into this world that was so much larger than viewing it through his camera lens had prepared him for, but he had spunk and determination and he wasn’t about to back down or let anyone think he was in over his head so he was gonna make it through whatever the superhero life threw at him even if flying by the seat of his pants the whole way. So to that end, I mean, I think Tim is at his best when just dealing with totally WTF kinds of stories. The cross-dimensional capers, the time travel mishaps, the ‘great, I was abducted by aliens on my lunch break and now apparently I have to save planet FUBAR with nothing but my pocket knife and scathing dry wit.’

I would fucking kill for Cass at the center of noir type stories where its like, idk, the Maltese Falcon and she’s the jaded but still optimistic-at-her-core PI when trouble walks into her derelict office wrapped up in an eggplant shawl and the name Stephanie. Maybe its just that I don’t think there’s enough focus on the fact that Cass is SMART and she’s as much a detective as any of the family, does plenty of investigative work and if she’s heir to the cowl she’d be just as good at the mystery side of things as Bruce is, but just......noir stories just FEEL like dappled shadows and eerie shades of blue and black with hints of moonlight spilling through slatted blinds and all of that just screams Cass to me, faint notes of jazz in the background, a wry smile on her lips as she plays her informant like a fiddle when chasing down clues.

Duke is another globe-trotter in feel to me, like his backstory and his family and his stories with the Outsiders, like, I really want to see Duke on more superhero teams than just the Outsiders now that that’s over, because he’s better suited to stories not confined just to Gotham, I think? Like, Duke fits the conspiracy theory chasing niche to me, like, his character really comes to life when pursuing leads all across the world, digging into his past, his family’s past, seeing how it all connects to various mysteries of the DC Earth that are generations old but still affect the present....like I don’t know how many people have read Planetary, but that to me is a PERFECT fit for Duke, and I would love to see him with his own Planetary style team or even just part of one.

Damian is best suited to coming of age stories, which sounds vague, but the thing is, it really is its own genre. So much of Damian’s character, the best parts I think, are about Damian FINDING himself, DEFINING himself......he more than any of the others, debuted so clearly defined by his origins, his parents, who he was CREATED to be.....and so he more than anyone else is perfectly poised to star in stories that are all about him breaking away from that mold, from parental expectations or preplanned destinies, or even just searching for things to define him on his own terms rather than through the eyes of others. Stories that are about choosing your own path, making a self-realization or having an epiphany about who you truly are or what you want to do with your life....that to me, is Damian’s best niche. Again, doesn’t mean that other characters can’t be great in these kinds of stories as well, just that if I’m pairing one character to one genre they lean into best, this is what’s that for Damian, IMO.

Steph is a bit of an oddball for me, and I don’t quite know how to describe this, but she’s best suited IMO to those kinds of stories that like......there’s not really a specific NAME for this type, but you know them when you see them. The best comparison I can think to make is like.....the kinds of stories Harley Quinn stars in? To be clear, I’m not drawing parallels between Steph or Harley or saying they’re the same kind of character at ALL, I’m just saying like.....Harley is another character who overall is very hard to pin down in specific concrete terms, but nevertheless is centered in various stories and adaptations that are nevertheless very clearly HER.....and that’s the kind of thing I picture for Steph. She fits that niche that isn’t really a niche for anyone BUT her, because nobody else can summon that type of feel for it......the kind of story that you can’t switch anybody else in for her because the story only works with her specific kinda....energy. Bleh. I really wish I could describe it better, like its very clear in my brain, but its a story that’s more of a kind of FEEL than it is a specific description? If that makes sense like at all? LOLOL. Whatevs.

And Babs, like, I would love love love to see her centered in a proper cyberthriller. I mean, they’ve done stories kinda like that with her as Oracle, but not to the extent I’m thinking. I mean just full on cyberpunk dialed up to 11. Give me Babs enlisted by the JLA because Brainiac is loose in the internet and she has to go into cyberspace utilizing different avatars of herself and calling in allies as needed as she relentlessly hunts a villain through landscapes of data she maps and molds and turns into traps. Babs hyper-fixating on her task, her hunt, to the degree that she has to be reminded to pull herself out at times and take care of her physical needs, has people grounding her so she doesn’t get lost in cyberspace and the lure of it all, this place that’s her domain and where she shines the brightest. And so it balances that razor edge that makes for the best cyberthrillers IMO. The ones where all the possibilities of the future as embodied in technology and cyberspace are balanced with the necessity of remaining human, of being human and with roots and history embedded outside of it, in the real world. And with there being a clear juxtaposition between the two even as the protagonist goes back and forth between the two extremes of their existence, the physical and the ephemeral.

Anyway. Like I said, you can mix and match and its not like Dick can’t star in gothic horror and Jason can’t do off-the-wall dimensional hijinks or noir detective stories and Tim and Cass can’t do coming of age, etc.....its just in terms of what I was talking about, how some characters lend themselves MORE easily to certain kinds of stories than others.....this is how I perceive the various Batkids.

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starkatana · 5 years ago

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All You Need to Know

Jason Todd X Female Reader

WordCount: 2813 (it’s long!~)

Summary: Jason proposes to you and you two have a smaller wedding with the BatFam in attendance at your Vegas wedding.

Author’s note: So, here begins my various one-shots of Jason Todd/Red Hood x Reader//y/n AKA my current obsession. I may compile all of them into chronological order once everything is done. I just really wanted to write and post something. I just have too many WIP’s right now that I need to focus on.

They aren’t exact ages. This is just a world that I made using these characters because I can. In this AU, Jason has died and come back to life. You two broke up and you dated Peter Parker (Spider-Man) for a little bit. At this point, you and Jason are 24-ish?

You are a dancer who works at a dance studio.

Sorry if its a little out of character, this is just based on my knowledge that tumblr has given me.

I used this post from fandomneeds!

Jason’s vows is the song: All You Need to Know by Gryffin

Hope you enjoy!

Jason scratched his head and crumpled up the vows he was working on.

“Ugh.”

Roy peeked into Jay’s room, “Having a hard time?” He cocked a sarcastic smile at his best friend.

“Fuck. Every time I try to write something it seems just so stupid and cookie cutter.”

“Aren’t those what vows are? Just telling the person you want to spend the rest of your life with them sickness and in health blah blah.”

“Yeah.” Jason shrugged, “I have basic vows for the Gotham wedding, but for the wedding this weekend, I just want them to be different and less like everything else.”

“Well, what do you want to say?”

“Exactly.”

Roy laughed. “You’ve read a million books you’re telling me that you can’t string the most romantic scenes and moments together?”

Jason sat back in the chair.

“What does she need to know? What are you confessing in front of the hardest people you need to impress? Me and the rest of your siblings.”

“It's not for you guys. It’s for us.”

“Then what do you want to tell her?”

Jason sat back in his chair with his hand behind his head, remembering the evening he asked you to marry him.

It happened to be a night that you and Jason didn’t have patrol, so you two made a date night out of it. The two of you are sitting in a booth at your favorite local diner. You two managed to keep it a secret from everyone else in the Batfam so they wouldn’t just show up and surprise you two. It’s late at night and you two had been there so often that the wait staff had your orders memorized. He was sitting across from you with his arms outstretched over the back of the booth as he listened to you talk with a half-smirk on his face.

You were sitting back in your booth just going on about your students from the dance studio. He loved how passionate you were about your job and how much you cared for other people. You two had been through so much, even when he had been an ass to you. You somehow took him back after everything he said and put you through. He was grateful for that. Life made sense with you.

“Hello? Earth to Jason.” You were waving your hand in his face snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Are you even listening?”

“Yeah! You were saying how you had to help some of your kids with their science and math homework and how you don’t miss science and math homework. Then you told me about the puppies you saw on your way to work today. And no, I still don’t think getting a dog is a good idea.”

“Okay, so you were listening,” you chuckle, “Sorry you just looked zoned out. I thought I was just rambling.”

“No.” Jason sits up leaning forward in the booth putting his hands on the table. “I like listening to you talk.”

You smile and instinctively lean into him as he takes on of your hands and with the other, you stir your milkshake. He gently rubs over your thumb. Basking in the comfortable silence and the background noise of the diner. Still holding his hand you sit back in the booth and close your eyes. If only every night could be this comfortable.

“Y/n.”

“Hm?” You respond without opening your eyes. He squeezes your hand.

“Will you marry me?”

You open an eye and take a peek at him. He was still sitting across the table from you. He hadn’t moved and was looking right at you.

He couldn’t possibly be serious. You chuckle. “Shut up.” You respond closing your eyes again.

“No, I’m serious.”

You take your hand back and sit up in the booth and stare at him half confused and half suspicious. You narrowed your eyes trying to gauge his reaction. Almost expecting him to go “Haha. Gotcha.” Or “I’m kidding.” You don’t know why he’d joke like that but you don’t know why he’d be asking you to marry him.

Marriage was something you two talked about but it was also something you two would just let happen when it felt most comfortable. You knew you wanted to be with him and he with you. So, you weren’t sure why you thought he was kidding.

“I know I don’t have a ring and I know I’m not down on one knee but I want to spend the rest of my life with you and after everything that happened I know you’re the one I want to spend my life with. I’m planning to get you a ring but I wanted to get you something with my money, not Bruce’s. I couldn’t wait to ask you.”

“Jay....”

“Do you want me to get on one knee? I will if you want.” he begins to stand up.

“No.” You grab his hand and set him back down, “No it’s okay. I’d love to marry you. I’ll happily marry you. No ring needed. No need to get on one knee.”

He squeezes your hand.

“Should we just run away?” He teased.

“And have Roy be our witness and third wheel forever?”

“And always.”

You two share a kiss across the table.

“I got it.”

You two decided to elope to Vegas. You two were going to have a real wedding soon where paparazzi would be “invited” your mom would be there and all your business colleagues, Wayne enterprises, socialites, and other Gotham elite it would be a wedding for everyone. But you and Jason wanted a smaller ceremony for the two of you first. What started small as in you, Jay, and Roy. Turned into a Batkid affair. So you, Jason, Roy, Dick, Duke, Tim, Damian, Cas, Steph, and Babs all flew out to Vegas. Your first day in Vegas while everyone was out walking around together around the Vegas strip. You and Jason decided on a small stage space close to the end of the “Venetian” river.

It was Vegas wedding day. Roy stood beside Jason. They weren’t wearing tuxes but they were dressed nicer. Jason had on black pinstriped pants, a red button-up with the sleeves rolled up with a black-tie done loosely with a black vest on. Roy had on black dress pants with a yellow dress shirt rolled up like Jason’s and unbuttoned near the top with suspenders on.

The two of them were making small talk, to help calm Jason’s nerves. The plan was for him and Roy to be there with the photographer before the impromptu wedding. Then the rest of the family would appear shortly after. Jason had his hands in his pant’s pockets and laughed at Roy’s joke.

“You’re in a good mood.”

“It’s not every day, I get to marry my best friend.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t let you cheat on y/n with me.”

Jason rolled his eyes at Roy. When Roy gave him a big smile and pointed behind Jay.

Jason turned around and Dick was leading the train of the Batfam. Jason tried to look past them all to get a glimpse of you, but they had you perfectly hidden behind them.

At this point, the passersby that were minding their own business began to stop and hang around, some kept minding their own business, while others were interested in the show. Dick greeted Jason first, he patted his shoulder, “Congrats, Little Wing.” Jason gave his brother a light punch in the arm and Dick moved aside. Following Dick was Tim who also gave him congratulations. Then there is Duke, where the two shared a hug. Cass was after and gave him a fake one-two punch in the gut followed by a hug. Next was Steph and then Babs, who he shared a hug with both of them.

“You’re in for a treat.” Steph teased.

Babs blew Jason a kiss and the two stood next to Cas.

Jason looked over at his family to the side of him. A lot has happened and they stood by him through it all. To have them all here, he was grateful. Then everyone looked over to where they came in. Little Damien, who is now 13 much more mature than the 8-year-old you had originally met. Damien loved you and thought of you as a big sister.

You planned to walk down the aisle yourself, but when Damien asked if he could give you away to Jason who were you to deny him.

You always knew Damien thought highly of you but one day after you and Jason had gotten back together after your hiatus apart. Damien lectured you left and right about how if Todd is ever a dick to you again he’d take care of Todd himself.

“Not if I handled him myself first.” You joked with Damien.

“Good.”

Then one day, you’ll never forget you were looking for Damien, but couldn’t find him in the manor. You walked outside onto the manor’s patio where Dick and Jason were sitting.

“Hey, do you know where Damian is?” you ask taking a seat next to Jason, “I can’t find him.”

“Yeah,” Dick nods, “Hold on, I got this.” He clears his throat. “DAMIAN! JASON IS BULLYING Y/N!!!”

Jason shook his head and looked at Dick, “Wait, what?!”

“Goddammit!”

You and Jason looked around and then up as Dick nodded proudly. Damien opened the window from the second floor in the manor and jumped out of it with a fighting stick. “TODD!”

Jason gets up from where he’s sitting and quickly runs out of the way, “GAAHH!!!”

You look over at Dick who nods and is giving you two thumbs up.

Back to the wedding:

Jason’s jaw dropped and he couldn’t believe that he was so lucky to have you. You were in a short spaghetti strap lacy white dress it hugged your body and your curves it had a slight v neck to it but wasn’t revealing. You wore your hair down nothing too fancy, just some soft waves and a baby’s breath crown on your head with your hair resting on your left shoulder.

You had a small light pink and black bouquet. Your shoes were a metallic white pearl shoe with skinny heel with a buckle around the ankle. It took everything in Jason not to just run over to you, sweep you off your feet and shower you in kisses. He was the happiest and luckiest man alive. The photographer was snapping pictures like crazy. When you left Alfred just asked for some pictures of the wedding, if Alfred wanted photos he was going to get them. No questions asked.

Roy nudged Jason. Jason nudged him back and couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

Damien walked you up to Jason.

“Thanks, Dami.” And you two shared a hug.

Damien turned around and glared at Jason. “Todd.”

“Demon spawn.” He cracks Damian a half-smile.

“Don’t mess this up, again.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t.”

Damian nods and steps aside letting Jason know that he’s approved of you two together again. You give Damien your bouquet. He walks over next to Babs and Steph. Jason offered you his hand. You take it and he leans into you as he helps you up, “You look absolutely gorgeous.” He stands up straight as you two take each other’s hands.

“Everyone is staring at us.”

“Everyone is staring at you.” Jason gestured, down to what you were wearing, giving you an ‘it’s definitely not me, it’s you’ kind of look. You smiled at him as you moved your hair out of your face and then take his hands again. He couldn’t stop smiling as much as he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Looking at you like this was like falling in love all over again. This was happening.

“Hello, friends and family.” Roy began, “We are gathered here for the marriage of our beloved Y/f/n/ y/m/n y/l/n and our shit-eating boy, Jason Peter Todd.”

Everyone chuckles at Roy and Jay playfully flips him off.

“Now, the couple would like to say their vows.”

“Jason Peter Todd.” You began, “Where do I even begin with you. With us? Since my first day at Gotham Academy when you kept spilling coffee on me. We’ve unfortunately been best friends since. You’ve been my first choice always since we’ve met and since I’ve been with you I’ve never safer. From the highs and the lows you’ve been with me through it all.” You wipe one of your eyes, “I couldn’t imagine going through life with anyone else except for you. So, take me as I am because I have already taken you. I promise to always be by your side through anything the world may throw at us. I’ll protect you through it all.”

He brings your hands to his lips and kisses them.

“I guess it’s my turn.” He rolls his shoulders back while he stands up straight with your hands still in his. “Y/n.”

He looks around him, his brothers, and his sisters. The crowd that had gathered during your ceremony. The perfect weather and the beautiful bride he has. You were breathtaking. Looking at you, his heart skipped a beat.

Every. Single. Time.

He takes a deep breath before beginning.

“I’ll keep it as simple as I can.” He bites his lip, “Shit.” He wipes his eye. “How’d you do this without balling?” he joked.

You chuckle, “It was hard.”

“Ok,” he gives your hands another squeeze, “Y/n, you don't have to listen carefully, because I will tell you a thousand times. With your hands in mine, look at this thing we found. I have everything I need and I promise to give you everything you will ever need because you make me not want to die.”

You let out a chuckle and Roy rolled his eyes. Before you and Jason would say ‘I love you’ that’s what you’d say to each other, when you first started dating and when you guys got back together.

You’d be leaving the safe house for dance practice and Jason called after you, “Y/n!”

“What?”

He’d tilt his head and give you a soft smile, “you make me not want to die.”

You crack a smile and flip him off as he flips you off in return. You continue walking away and Jason can’t help but keep his eyes glued on you as you left.

“You two have the weirdest relationship.” Roy pretended to be disgusted.

“When you get sad like you do sometimes. Anything you feel. Put it all on me. All of your thoughts, I want everything. I’m letting you know, I’m going to be around.”

It had been months since you and Peter broke up and since you have decided not to take Jason back. You opened your eyes and started to cry. He was standing in front of you. “What happened to us?” You ask wiping away your tears.

He goes to step towards you and you back away making yourself smaller.

“Y/n.” He hesitates and puts his arms back to his side.

You don’t look at him.

“I’m sorry.” You look at him. Now he was crying, “I was wrong. You were right and I shouldn’t have done the things that I did but I did and I hurt you and I’m sorry. I don’t want to be apart from you anymore. I’m better with you than I am without you.”

“Jason...” you feel your chest tighten as more tears begin to fall.

“All I want to do is love you and if you don’t want to be with me. At least let me be around...again. I miss my best friend.”

You get on your tiptoes and wrap your arms around his neck. Where he wraps his arms around your body in a tight embrace.

“I never stopped loving you.” You cried. “I’m so scared and lost I don’t know what I want.” You begin to hiccup and Jason rubs your back.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. Sincerely. I promise I won’t ever be the reason you cry again.”

“I'll lift you when you're feeling low. I'll hold you when the night gets cold. Your fears and your thoughts, give me all of it. You'll never have to be alone and that's all you need to know.”

You wipe away your tears.

“I’m sorry.” Jason apologized.

You shook your head no, “Good tears.” He smiles at you and you both look over at Roy who smiling at them softly. He nods and breaks the silence: “Jason Peter Todd, you may kiss your bride.”

Jason cups your face as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss on the lips as the audience that has since gathered clapped and cheered but not louder than his and your family only a few steps away.

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dented-nado · 5 years ago

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We’ll Always Have Each Other

I’M BACK! AND I WROTE A THING [Have an angsty fic with the aftermath of Bruce nearly dying - and also me trying to write Damian for the first time... ... ever] Warning for MC death although it’s brief and a slight existential crisis - but this fic is mostly about family bonding and how Bruce really isn’t a loner. (some swb mentions if you squint) ---- ---

It happened so fast… so sharp he both felt it and wasn’t sure he felt anything. Ears feeling like they were stuffed with cotton.

He stared at the sharp bit of metal that he had been stabbed with that was sticking out of his torso, not knowing what to think of it… or maybe now unable to think about it at all.

As Bruce felt his vision go black, he heard a laugh… what sounded like Dick yelling…

Was Damian screaming? Damian didn’t have large outbursts, so that couldn’t be right. Someone cradled his head, and he heard what sounded like Tim crying as he whispered.

“no no… no .. please don’t go…”

And that was it… nothing more. Not a thought not a sound. Except maybe a light… or many lights… or even just two, he wasn’t sure.

He heard whispering above him, his body felt… numb, mind blurry… there were several people around him, he knew that.

“Bruce?” Clark called for him, his voice sounded distant, but it was there.

Light began seeping back into his eyes as he slowly opened them, he winced slightly at the sudden brightness in the room around him. There were many faces staring down at him…he subconsciously took stock as the parent of many kids often did.

Dick… Tim… Stephanie… Duke… Cass… Barbara… Alfred… Clark… Diana… J’onn…

All of them looked like they had been crying, all held mixed expressions of distress and relief.

“Did I die?” Bruce thought.

It was an odd thought, and he realized if he had been dead he didn’t really remember what it was like, only that it had happened.

Then he remembered hearing a scream.

“Where…?” He winced, feeling an ache in his abdomen

Where was Damian?

“Don’t try to talk a lot yet B… you have to not move a lot for a while.” Clark hushed.

“You were impaled, but you were lucky that the metal you were pierced with managed to miss your vital organs and major blood vessels.” J’onn explained calmly, knowing that would inevitably be Bruce’s next question.

Bruce looked around blearily. They had to have him on some powerful pain killers, especially since they likely had to take Bruce’s tendency to muscle through pain with his own brand of concentrated pain killers into account.

He must have passed out when he tried to blink, because when he opened his eyes again, he just saw Dick sitting in a chair next to him reading a book. He seemed to notice Bruce stirring and looked over with a small smile.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Bruce wheezed. His voice was weak but the aching pain wasn’t as bad.

“How long…”

“About a week.” Dick answered. “You’ve stirred and started mumbling a few times, but you kind of had to stay put so you could be treated and heal and all that jazz. We’ve all been visiting and hanging out with you, even if you’re a loner and all.”

The corners of Bruce’s lips quirked up. He slowly began trying to see if he could sit up , but he decided not to push it. He sighed, not looking forward to the recovery time of trying to move around again.

“Where’s Damian?” Bruce was finally able to ask.

Dick took a deep breath. Setting his book down. “He demanded he be put in one of the watchtower cells. He’s insisting on “turning himself in.”

Bruce almost shot up before remembering he couldn’t really move fast right now. “What?? Why?”

“Well… when we all thought … you know… you were dead, the kid kind of lost it, not that I blame him, I kinda… did too… and he, you know… did his miniature assassin thing and uh… The Joker is dead. And ‘cause he killed, he thinks you’d be disappointed or mad at him. So he’s uh… insisting he be “punished”.” Dick confessed.

Bruce’s heart sank.

“Clark tried to talk to him, I tried to talk to him, Tim left him alone… His eyes lit up when he heard your okay but he said and I quote “Please inform father that I fully intend to pay for disobeying him.” “

Bruce groaned. Wishing he could leap up right that second and tell Damian he wasn’t mad… not even slightly… but apparently this was another one of those moments where him and Damian were more stubbornly similar than they were different.

“Do you think you could convince him to come see me?” Bruce asked.

Dick shrugged. “I can sure try.”

“Thanks chum.”

Dick smiled and patted his dad on the shoulder as he stood up in response and went off to try and get his youngest brother to face Bruce now that he was up and more coherent.

Bruce breathed deeply. Wondering briefly, if death had really been nothingness or he just couldn’t, or was physically unable to remember whatever it was he encountered. That was an existential crisis he’d put off for another day.

When Damian came in, Dick right behind him, the boy was hanging his head. He saw Damian nervously take a glance up to him. He saw his son’s eyes were red… and he was trying to hide it.

“Damian…” He tried to begin.

“Father… I…” Damian interrupted, hanging his head. “I have killed, even though it was against your wishes. I have disobeyed you, and I will accept any punishment you have for me.”

Damian was obviously trying to speak in a slightly disconnected tone, but Bruce could see his hands trembling.

“Damian, I’m not mad. I’m worried about you.” Bruce replied softly.

Damian’s head shot up, and now Bruce could officially see now that the boy’s eyes were wet. “But-!” He protested.

“Shh. Come here.” Bruce beckoned, holding his arm out weakly.

Damian hesitated, glancing up at Dick who nodded at him before slowly moving over to his father’s side. Bruce trapped him in a sideways hug that made Damian jump slightly.

“When Jason ‘died’, the first thing I did was grab a gun.” Bruce confessed slowly.

Both Dick and Damian looked at him shocked. He had never opened up about this, but he supposed now was the time. Dick sat back down in his chair quietly to listen.

“I was going to shoot that clown right in the head, maybe torture him a bit before doing it for taking my child away from me. But you know who stopped me?”

“Who?” Damian asked.

“Clark did.”

“The alien??”

Bruce gave him a slightly disapproving look.

Damian shifted slightly looking guilty and corrected himself. “Yes, Clark, Superman… why did he stop you?”

“Because he knew I’d regret it, not because Joker shouldn’t die or should serve justice for what he’s done… but because he knew revenge wouldn’t make it hurt any less… and that I’d regret it because I’d have to live with the fact that the Joker finally got to me, and the trauma from taking a life might do me in for good.” Bruce confessed. “Especially since picking up a gun was something I never ever wanted to do.”

Damian looked down, leaning into Bruce slightly. “When… When I destroyed him, I thought that avenging your death would make it better. But it didn’t. Because you were still gone, and I had broken my promise to you.” He mumbled quietly. “I failed to be strong like you… and resist the temptation.”

Bruce hugged him tighter. “No, you didn’t fail. I’m not disappointed, or mad. I understand. You had a normal… human… reaction.”

“He’s right Dami, in that moment… when that happened, if it hadn’t been you… it would have been me, or Tim, or any of us really. You saw the way Superman looked even when he came. You were just the fastest.”

“It’s not your fault that a very sick person got a high out of getting reactions out of people by killing or harming those they care about.” Bruce comforted. “As I’ve learned… Valuing life… and family, is not weakness.”

Damian was trembling again, obviously still trying to hide anything he was feeling. “But father… you said it yourself, because he got me to react… he won.”

Bruce shook his head. “No, he hasn’t won. Not yet. We can heal from the scars he left behind, on us, on our family, on Gotham, and eventually, we can make sure he’ll be forgotten, we won’t let him have a lasting effect on us, not anymore. We won’t give him that satisfaction, because we’ll still have each other. Okay?”

Damian looked at Bruce with wide eyes and slowly nodded. Bruce pulled his son up so he could hug him tight with both arms.

“I love you, and I’m proud of you, I’m so proud of all of you, you all mean a lot to me, and I’m never going to leave you or my family like that again.”

This seemed to be what finally caused Damian to break, for all the floodgates that were being held back to burst open. He buried his face in his dad’s chest, clinging to him as all the stress, guilt, grief, and fear came flooding out, no longer caring enough about pride to hide that he was crying.

Bruce felt Dick wrap his arms around both of them, ruffling Damian’s hair just as he did.

Then, like a stampede, the door burst open causing the three of them to jump as they were piled on with a group hug as the batkids, Alfred, Clark, Diana, and several members of the league ran in excitedly at seeing Bruce up, being just careful enough to make sure they didn’t re-hurt Bruce as they piled onto the group hug.

Bruce smiled as he heard a small but rare laugh from Damian, and maybe understood now why Clark and Diana seemed to light up when Bruce himself smiled or laughed. He now only hoped that any sounds of laughter they heard from now on would be from each other and out of happiness and joy.

#batman #batfam #batfamilly #dc fanfic #dc comics #clark kent #superman #bruce wayne #diana prince #j'onn j'onzz #dick grayson #tim drake #dc let bruce be a good dad and a batfam that works together to heal

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bigfan-fanfic · 6 years ago

Text

The Shadow (Batkid!Reader x Bucky Barnes)

Requested by Anonymous for #19 - Bucky Barnes x Batkid!Reader where after escaping Hydra, Bucky meets the Batfam who help him recover, and he falls in love with Bruce’s eldest son.

Warning - very long length! - I’d be willing to do sequels if anyone has ideas!

“Watch out, everyone. I see something.” you say over comms. Barbara’s hacked you into the CCTV system all over Gotham, so it takes only a second for you to find a better angle. “Oh, no.”

“No? What’s the problem, Brother Eye?” your father asks.

Brother Eye was your codename, like Barbara was Oracle.

“It’s the Winter Soldier. I had heard he escaped the Avengers in Germany, but...”

Bruce sighs. The SHIELD and the Avengers have been a thorn in the side of the Justice League for quite a few years now, their careless actions turning the public against metahumans and superheroes in general.

“He’s dangerous. Prepare to engage.” Damian says, but you stop them.

“No. Something’s different.”

You can hear Damian rolling his eyes. “Brother, there is nothing different. The Winter Soldier is here in Gotham.”

As loathe as you are to argue with Damian (he just started calling you Brother, after all), you point out that he hasn’t attacked yet.

“Oracle, are you thinking what I’m thinking?” you ask.

Barbara’s already hacking and pulling up footage of the interrogation of Bucky Barnes in Vienna, where a dark-haired man uses Russian phrases to turn him into the Soldier. She’s also run facial recognition and determined the photo used by the authorities is of someone wearing a face-altering mask.

“It would appear, Master Bruce, that Sergeant Barnes was being framed, likely to have him collected at the facility so this man could retrieve the Winter Soldier.” Alfred says dryly, uploading the evidence to Bruce’s cowl.

For his own good, it is decided that you will all bring him in.

Bruce allows you to do the talking through comms. After all, you’re the best with people, except for Alfred and maybe Dick.

“Sergeant Barnes? James Buchanan Barnes?”

The Soldier doesn’t look at the source of your voice, but instead at the nearest camera, as if he can see you through it the way you see him.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Y/N Wayne. I want to help you. I know that you are not to blame for the U.N. If you go with Batman, he can protect you and bring you to a safer location.”

“Why should I trust you?” he asks. It’s a fair question, and you pause before answering. You decide to be brutally honest.

“You shouldn’t, yet. I could be lying about everything. All I can give you is my word that I have the ability and desire to help you.”

“...Why?”

“Because that’s what I do.”

The Soldier allows Batman to lead him to the Batmobile

“He your boss?” he asks Bruce.

Bruce chuckles. “My son. My oldest.”

“This is a... family business, then?”

Bruce nods. “Yes it is.

Upon reaching the Batcave, the Soldier’s eyes come to rest on you. You walk up to him, analyzing his every move as has come to be your habit. “Hello, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Bucky. My name is Bucky.”

You and your father decide together to house Bucky in the Manor for the time being, while Batman brings the evidence you and Barbara collected and shows it to the Justice League

Just take a minute to bask in the glory of solving in two minutes what it took the Avengers and global police several days to even consider.

You have to wrangle Damian and Jason away from him most of the time, because they keep asking him for his top ten ways to kill someone, and it’s starting to make him uncomfortable. Surprisingly, Damian is the first to get better, and introduces Bucky to his many animals, almost like the child he is.

“This is Titus. Titus, say hello to Barnes.”

“WOOF.”

“Heya, pal.” *pets Titus*

*puts down sword* “Good. You have passed the test. Titus likes you.”

Dick is the best at helping Bucky recover his old memories, simply because it’s so easy to talk to him that Bucky responds without thinking and remembers a whole year of his old life.

Tim helps remind Bucky of the past by doing extensive research.

Of course, it isn’t long before Bucky asks to join the Batfam on patrol, wanting to help.

Bruce is surprisingly welcoming, and has you and Lucius Fox manufacture a new arm for Bucky to replace his Hydra one. It’s in matte black, and Bucky likes it because it looks almost as if he’s wearing a skintight sleeve and glove.

Jason helps Bucky train, because Bucky hasn’t really had combat training over the years, just, well, “punch and repeat.”

Bucky doesn’t wear a cape, but he gets a domino mask and tacks on a Bat-symbol to his mechanical arm.

He becomes known as “the Shadow” by Gotham criminals because unlike the Bat, he won’t talk. He’ll just appear, beat them up, and vanish again.

But Bucky’s favorite person to spend time with is you. Mostly because you make him feel like a living, breathing person, and not a convalescent or a living diorama.

You’ll ask him lots of questions about his personal likes and dislikes, and he’ll be completely stunned.

But he’ll come up to you a few days later and answer, after you’ve already forgotten that you asked.

“Lemonade.”

“Excuse me?”

“You... you asked me what my favorite drink was. It’s lemonade.”

You always smile at him proudly and thank him. He’s not sure why, but it makes him feel like he’s glowing from the inside.

Bucky doesn’t know exactly when he fell for you.

Maybe it was seeing how protective you were of your family. And the way you immediately became protective over him. Despite the fact that he’s the assassin and you’re not a fighter, he feels safe under your watch.

Maybe it was when you, Dick, and Bruce took him shopping for new clothes to celebrate his newfound freedom after the Justice League exonerated him. It was decided that he stay at Wayne Manor (because, of course, the Waynes were the main sponsors of the League), and you found him clothes that were practical and comfortable.

Maybe it was seeing your tactical brilliance. He sees how you and Bruce work together on the fly to build impenetrable combat strategies. Bucky learns to follow the others’ example and unhesitatingly obey when you bark a direction, even when it seems impractical.

Maybe it was when you invited him to join in on the family night movie watching session. You had fallen asleep, slowly drooping over until you were cuddled against him. He stiffened in surprise, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy how comfortable you were with him.

But by the time he came to seek you out in the Manor, he was gone.

“Y/N?”

You were correcting one of Damian’s school essays, or rather, censoring it of violent content. Leave Damian to go into detail about battle wounds in a essay on the American Civil War.

“Hmm?”

“Uhhh... I was hopin’ maybe I could talk to you.”

You look up and notice he’s dressed in a nice suit. His hair’s slicked back, and he looks so nervous.

“Sure, Buck. What’s up?”

He holds out his hand to you. “I was wonderin’ maybe if I could take you on a date.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Uh, although, you might have to be a little patient with me. I haven’t taken anyone out in... a while.”

You take his hand. “I’d like that. A lot.”

He takes you out to an old restaurant about an hour away in New York, which is still around because it advertises itself as “Captain America’s Favorite Diner” and has since the end of World War II. As a bonus, Bucky gets to eat free there.

You have a classic meal of burgers and milkshakes in your fancy suits, and then Bucky asks you to dance with him to the tune of old 40′s hits.

Of course, there’s tabloid news about it, but it doesn’t matter. Because everyone sees that Bucky’s happy with you, and you’re happy with him.

So when Bruce finds you two passed out on the couch after a night of dance and laughter, he decides to reserve his “if you ever hurt my son” spiel for another day. Tomorrow, perhaps. He simply takes a picture on his phone to send to Alfred and walks away.

#male reader #batkid reader #bucky barnes x male reader #the winter soldier x male reader #batman x male reader #batman headcanons #headcanons #dc headcanons #marvel headcanons

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queerbutstillhere · 5 years ago

Note

Hi, honey!! I'm back on Tumblr hohoiii 😆 If you still accept prompts can I ask you for: Damian and Jonno's children (a boy and a girl, God knows why😶) are sent to the past and met their daddys who are recently dating. ((Please, make it extremely awkward, some Batfam too)) tysm😙

(Once again, thank ya for giving me a chance to work with these kiddos! I hope you like this!!)

The portal dumped them out in the middle of the air. Because of course it did.

The two screaming kid vigilantes grabbed at each other as they plumpted through the air. Zaina willed her fluctuating powers to kick in, and sure enough, the adrenaline caused the surge and she snatched her brother out of the air, slowing their fall.

"Oof! You're heavy!" She exclaimed, scowling down at him.

"I am not!" The younger teen, built like a rugby player, said with a scowl.

"Yes you are!"

She looked around, flying to the nearby roof and touching down on it, she "gently" dropped her brother to the graveled roof of the tall building.

"Where are we?" Malik asked, popping up and looking around.

"Ummm."

He was already activating his lenses, which were glowing blue now. He looked around, turning a full circle.

"I think we're in Gotham," Zaina asked, walking to the edge and looking down.

"Really? Did he just teleport us away."

"... No, look."

Zaina pointed across the street to billboard on the side of a building, one that had Bruce Wayne, and something about Wayne Industries.

"Oh my God," Malik exclaimed. "Sis. I think we were sent back in time."

Zaina and Malik Wayne-Kent were the children of Damian Wayne and Jon Kent, they had been adopted at 5 and 3, respectively, and had lived with their parents for thirteen years now. Both were born Arabic, but had met Jon during a crisis in their Homeland, their mother having been killed in it, and Jon took very quick steps to make sure the kids were okay, and not long after, he and Damian decided to adopt them.

Zaina was eighteen now, and yet still shorter then her brother. She was only 5'5", and fairly muscular from having done gymnastics almost her whole life. Her black hair was cut short in a shoulder length bob, and she had darker skin like her father. She had, a few months ago, been exposed to platinum kryptonite, and had thus gained the powers of Superman. Only they were still on the fritz. It made her wince to remember the weeks when her hearing was changing, and when her eyes evolved. The good news was she didn't need glasses. Her father had wanted to take them away, but Zaina had begged and begged and made full persuasive essays and finally convinced him to allow her a trial period.

Malik was only sixteen and but he was tall, and broad in the shoulders. He played lacrosse and worked out and ran and all those things, and yes, he was in a rugby league. He was already a hottie at sixteen, and Zaina could not count the amount of girls she had chased away from her brother. His dark hair, more brown then black, was kept short, shaved on the sides and just a little bit of fluff on top. He had no powers, just his wicked sharp intellect and skills with technology.

They had both become teen vigilantes a few years back, having adopted adaptations of some of the previous heroes in their family line. Zaina had become Robin, with a bit of a twist on the uniform, it was more solid black, with splashed of color here and there, her boots, her belt, her cape, her gloves. So on. Soon she probably would switch to a Super title when her powers fully developed. Malik had made his own name, Batboy, until he felt he had earned the Batman title from his father. His costume was a lot like the Black Bat costume, and his cowl didn't completely cover his head, just came up his neck and around his eyes, his hair sticking out the top, and the classic bat ears poking up from the sides.

Their parents had both stepped down from their vigilante rolls for the most part while they were raising the kids, but when the siblings had started sneaking out, they decided to pick the rolls back up so they could properly train them, and watch their backs until they were ready to go out. It's doubtful they ever thought this would happen.....

Their game plan was simple. Find Batman or one of their uncles. Explain. Get taken back to the batcave, and then to the Watchtower so Waverider or someone can send them back to their time.

They split up after Malik resynced their comms, going to opposite ends of the town. Zaina was flying, scanning the streets, listening for the sounds of her family. And then, as it tends to do, her powers just gave out. She screamed as she started falling, scrambling for her grapple gun, which Malik wisely made her keep. And then she landed on something with a small thunk.

"Hey there, you better slow down a bit, shouldn't jump without a grapple in hand."

She recognized that voice. It was a bit younger, a bit more innocent and lively, but she recognized it all the same. She twisted in her savior's arms, looking up at Superboy.

"Pops!" She exclaimed joyfully, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

She probably shouldn't have done that.

Jon chuckled nervously, keeping his hold on her.

"I think you have me mistaken for someone else..."

"Oh. . . No. It's a long story, we need to find ba- Robin, or errrrr....." She paused, considering how she should do this. "What year is it?"

"2019?"

"Okay. We need to find Robin."

".... Who are you?"

"I'm also Robin, but from the future."

Malik had similar luck. He had been poking around the narrows, secretly hoping to find Red Hood, when the screaming hit him. His sensors started going crazy seconds before he could hear it, and then he took off, running through the streets and weaving between cars and signs to reach the source.

He burst around the corner and found a full on gang street fight going down, a couple kids stuck in the middle.

"Hey!" He yelled, his voice projected slightly by his tech.

A couple people paused and turned to him. He grabbed his Bo staff, fully expanding it and hitting a button to send electrical currents through it.

"Back away from the kids."

One of them scoffed, stepping forwards.

"It's one of them batkids. Soak 'em, boys."

Malik easily knocked out the first two, flipping off the third to get back out of range of their bats and knuckles.

"Oh ho! He thinks he's hot shit!"

More thugs rushed at him, but Malik was used to this, he easily beat them all down. Until one got behind him, arms wrapping around his upper arms and squeezing. Another grabbed his Bo at the insulated section, preventing him from hitting anyone.

Then there was a thump and the person behind him let go. Malik reared forwards, headbutting the person in front of him. He judo flipped them quickly before turning back to find the kids. They were huddled against the wall. He took a running start and flipped over some thugs, ducking past others until he was at the kids. There were three total, two younger ones, and a teen, not much younger then him.

"Hi," he said with a smile, smacking another thug with his bo. "I'm going to get you children out of here okay?"

They nodded rapidly. Malik considered his options and then looked at the oldest.

"I need you to carry the smaller one."

She nodded, quickly getting him on her back piggyback style. Malik picked up the other kid the same way. Then he produced his grapple and aimed for the roof. Once it was hooked, he put away his baton, and grabbed the girl with his free arm. They quickly were yanked up and swung over the crowd of gang members to the end of the Street, where it was clear and safe. His shoulder complained greatly, but it was fine.

When he landed, set down the kids and turned around, everyone was gone. Except a vigilante. Robin. His baba.

He recognized his father instantly, having seen enough pictures to know, even with the significant difference.

"Oh thank God."

Robin eyed him warily.

"Who are you."

"I think we best wait for-"

His sensors beeped in annoyance at the detection of two Kryptonian's. He turned and found his sister and a much younger version of his pops landing, Zaina on Jon's back.

"Sis! Are you okay?!" He exclaimed, ditching Damian to run to her. She jumped off and ran over, meeting him and grabbing his face, scanning him over.

"I'm fine! I heard all the fighting!"

"I'm okay, did your powers give out again?"

"Yes! I was up four stories and they dropped and-"

"I told you not to get that high!" Malik protested.

"Hey! Don't lecture me!" Zaina glanced to the side and froze. "You found Baba?"

"Yeah."

"Are we going to tell them?"

"What else do you have in mind?"

"Doesn't that break time travel rules?"

Malik gave his sister an annoyed face.

"No- God, that's not- no, Z, no."

"Excuse me. We have questions," Jon said, stepping up.

"Police are almost here," Malik shot back, the lenses of his mask slightly blue. "We'll talk after."

After they cleared things up with the police, they headed to the batcave, and Malik immediately felt more relaxed in the familiar, yet older interior. He didn't hesitate to pull his mask off, looking around, noting the differences.

"Robin what is this?"

He glanced over to see Batman and immediately went still.

Bruce had died with they were young, they had barely gotten to know him, and Malik especially had very few memories of him... Zaina, on the other hand, gave a sob like noise and smacked her hand over her mouth. Everyone looked at her, confused.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, composing herself. She too reached up and took her mask off.

"You would like an explanation?" Malik questioned, even as he tapped at the screen attached into his glove.

"We would," Damian responded, eyeing him warily.

"I'm Malik Wayne-Kent, this is my sister, Zaina Wayne-Kent, and we're from the future."

Silence hung over the cave after his words and Damian looked thoroughly shocked.

"I'm sorry," Jon said, speaking up. "Did you say, Wayne-Kent?"

"Yes."

Damian opened his mouth, shut it once, and then spoke. "Please tell me you are Drake's children?"

"Afraid not," Zaina said with a head shake. "You're our baba."

There was another several beats of silence, and then Bruce seemed to put two and two together.

"And your other parent is..... Jon?"

Malik nodded. "Pops."

"Which makes me your grandfather."

Another nod from Zaina.

"You're kidding me. If you're joking right now I'll-" Damian clenched his jaw and looked up at Jon.

"Wait, are you two.... What half of 2019 is this?" Malik asked. "Have you not started dating yet?"

Bruce opened his mouth, looking at his son, and then back at his future grandchildren.

"Oh, dear," Zaina said softly, leaning into her brother. "I don't think they have."

"Oops."

"Wait so you're telling me we get married?!" Jon exclaimed, shocked.

"Uh, well in our timeline you do. When we got spit out here, we created a separate time line from ours."

"And. She . . . She has powers," Jon said, pointing at Zaina.

"I was given them by Platinum kryptonite," Zaina explained. "You wanted to take them away, baba, but I managed to convince you otherwise."

"Sounds like something you'd do," Jon said, nudging Damian.

"Shush, Jon, this is important. We have to get them back to their timeline before we change anything else accidentally."

Bruce was sitting there in silence and then he looked to his son.

"Damian. Are you two dating?"

Damian winced slightly. "Just a few weeks ago...."

"... Okay. I'm going to go prep the jet. We'll head to the watchtower."

The four watched him walk away. Then Zaina looked at Damian.

"It's really odd seeing you guys do young," she said, smiling lightly.

"I imagine so... We really let you two be vigilantes?"

"You didn't really have a choice. I hacked into the cave and then we snuck out every night until you decided to just train us."

Damian and Jon didn't quite know what to do with their children, just kinda awkwardly looked at them.

Malik finally turned and walked away, over to the dino. "Man, this thing is so old."

"Okay, you young pup," Zaina said with a laugh, following after.

"So whose all what in this time line?" Zaina asked, looking over to Damian and Jon, who were whispering softly.

"Pardon?" Damian asked in a cold tone she wasn't used too.

"Uncle Dickie, he's.... Nightwing?"

Jon nodded, his arm was around Damian now.

"Dick's Nightwing, Jason is Red Hood. Cass is Black Bat, Barbara is Batgirl slash Oracle, Steph is Spoiler, and Tim is .... Drake," their pops explained. "Obviously we're Superboy and Robin, and Bruce is Batman."

"Bruce is dead in your timeline isn't he?" Damian asked, walking away from Jon and torwards them.

They exchanged a look, and then Malik nodded.

"There was an accident.... No one could stop it. I'm sorry," he said softly.

Damian shook his head, gently hugging Malik.

"No. I'm sorry. How old were you?"

"I was only five, Zaina was eight."

"I remember him more then Malik," Zaina offered, looking sad now.

Malik, hugging his baba back, looked up to Jon, who looked contemplative.

"But, again, we accidentally changed your time line, so that may not happen. Just like you two may not get married, and you may not adopt us."

"... As far as I'm concerned those seem like fixed points in time," Jon said.

Damian sighed and pulled back, giving Jon a look, and then he hugged Zaina.

"Who am I? In your time?"

"First and foremost your our dad," she answered. "But you're also a businessman and Batman. Once Malik is old enough, you're going to give him Batman."

Damian nodded as he considered this, but went silent, stepping back to stand next to Jon.

They had a very awkward flight to the Watchtower, Zaina and Jon quietly chatting about their powers, and what Zaina had developed so far. Malik sat next to Damian, silently working on his tech, as always. He was obsessive about keeping it updated, always changing the programing. Some of his features didn't work due to the lack of connection to the Wayne Satellites of the future, but enough of them did that he could still preform scans, bouncing off nearby cell phone towers.

"What's that?" Damian asked, watching him tap at the screen on his forearm.

"It's my control panel."

"For what?"

"My OTL."

"What."

"It's. . . Optical lenses in my mask, look."

Malik held it up, flicked on the blue lenses and then turned, looking at Zaina. On his screen, a digital display of a file popped up.

"I can also do this."

He triple tapped it and it was projected up into a hologram.

"Oh."

Zaina leaned forwards, arms on her brothers shoulders. "Malik's a genius. He programs all his tech himself. Even uncle Tim and Aunt Babs can't keep up with him."

Malik flushed, looking down. "I just like programming."

"You'd never guess it, from his public appearance, but he'd a major nerd. Jock Nerd type."

"Okay Prep Jock, shut your mouth."

Zaina giggled.

"So, what are you two's vigilante names?" Bruce asked from the cockpit.

"I'm Robin," Zaina answered, looking up to her grandfather. "But pops and I have agreed once my powers and are more consistent, I'm going to take up another name, Supergirl or something."

"And I'm Batboy, for now."

Bruce nodded slightly.

"I know you guys have a lot of questions, but I am afraid we won't be able to answer some of them," Malik said. "There's somethings I don't dare mess with, timeline wise."

"We understand," Bruce answered. "this isn't our first time messing with time travel."

The rest of the flight was awkward silence. They got to the watchtower and confused everyone they talked to.

"Where's Waverider?" Bruce asked J'onn, who was on duty at that moment.

"He has not been around for several-"

There was a burst of sparks and then suddenly Waverider appeared in front of them. He gave Malik and Zaina a startled look. They waved.

"You two are much bigger," he remarked.

"Well, that's what happens when you aren't hoping around the time stream," Zaina said with a grin.

"Your father's are probably waiting for you," he said, walking over to them. "Let's go."

"Wait!" Zaina backed away, and then spun to Bruce. "I know you don't know me. But... Can I just give you a hug?"

Bruce chuckled and nodded, opening his arms. "Come here."

She ran over, crashing into his body, hugging him tightly. Bruce gently hugged her, rubbing her back.

"It's okay, I don't know what happens, but I understand," Bruce said softly, kissing her head.

"I love you, grandpa," she murmured softly.

"And I can not wait to meet you again, little one."

Zaina pulled away, reaching up and adjusting her mask. Bruce looked to Malik and held open his arms. Malik immediately gave in and ran over, hugging him. They exchanged no words, just hugged. And then Malik stepped back, and Waverider grabbed onto both of them.

"Goodbye, and thank you," Zaina said to the younger versions of their fathers.

"Bye! Be safe!" Jon said with a grin.

And then they were gone.

They appeared back in their time, right in front of their fathers at the batcave. Damian jolted slightly, and then raised an eyebrow.

"Waverider?"

"Hey, Damian. Jon."

"What's up?" Jon asked, setting down his cup of tea.

"Oh, not much, found your kids in 2019. Figured you might like them back."

"Indeed we would."

"Well, see you around."

Waverider disappeared again. Malik sighed and pulled off his mask, walking forwards and hugging his baba.

"It's been a weird day, and I'm ready for bed. Good night baba, good night pops. I love you," Malik said, heading towards the locker room.

"Love you too, kiddo," Jon called after him.

They looked at Zaina. "So what happened?"

"I'll explain over some hot cocoa and smores."

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elyreywrites · 5 years ago

Text

hips don’t lie (shakira shakira)

a crack fic born of a typo, and enabled by discord (shout out to the C&C discord server!! y’all are amazing.) also, it was a motivational gift for a friend. and a huge thanks to Bumpkin for being my beta on this fic!

title from Shakira’s “Hips Don’t Lie”.

please REBLOG -- DO NOT REPOST

AO3 Link

Teen 1,895 words Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne part of my batkids shenanigans series

Summary:

Tim breaks a hip. Dick and Jason fight for the right of sitting shotgun. Barbara is the Actual Best. And Bruce is Suffering.

- - - - -

Tim leaned back against the wall in his cell and waited. He certainly wasn’t going to escape at the moment – not after some goon had slammed a metal bat into his hip. Standing wasn’t going to happen, much less fighting. As it was, Tim could block out the pain while sitting down and not moving. He’d dragged his body out of the desert after he was stabbed in the spleen, he could ignore this pain.

The sound of shattering glass and indistinct yelling brought a grin to his face. Ah, his rescue had arrived. Who did they send this time? The gunfire that broke out could mean Jason, or the goons had guns. Maybe both. The only guarantee was that it wasn’t Damian. He had a final paper due in the morning for school and Bruce ordered him off patrol.

The commotion lasted all of ten minutes. After another couple of minutes, something banged on the other side of the door.

“Hey Red, yell if you’re in here,” called Dick. After a second, he squawked, “What was that for?”

“He might be unconscious and can’t fucking answer,” Jason snarked.

Huh, both of them to the rescue. “I’m conscious,” he yelled. The lock clicked and his two older brothers strolled in, the keys dangling from the lock.

“Oh good,” Jason drawled, “then you can explain why the fuck you didn’t escape on your own.” He tossed Tim an extra comm, which he immediately put in.

Tim hummed. “I mean, it might have something to do with the metal bat that some asshole caught me in the hip with.”

Both men paused, just as Bruce appeared in the doorway. Tim knew his eyebrow was raised expectantly under the cowl. Tim looked straight at him and said, “I’m not very hip.”

In the background, Dick started snickering as Jason choked on his laughter. Bruce, though – Bruce went still. Bat still – the kind he only got in two situations. One, if he was about to drop into a fight. Two, when one of his kids made an exceptionally bad joke. The second often came before the Heavy Sigh of Exasperated Dad. “Your hip is injured,” he inferred, returning to the matter at hand. “What else can you tell us about the injury?”

Smirking, he complained, “Help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.”

The snickering turned into near-hysterical giggles. Jason was wheezing under the helmet. And there was the Heavy Sigh of Exasperated Dad.

“Someone call Life Alert!” Dick gasped out through his giggling.

“Fucking hell, kid,” Jason managed. “You little fucking shit. We were worried about your goddamn ass, and here you are, making shitty jokes like you’re Nightwing.”

“Hey!”

Bruce shook his head. “Your hip might be broken. Let’s–”

Dick cut off their father. “That’s so sad,” he choked out past his widening grin, “Oracle, play ‘Hips Don’t Lie’.”

Bruce froze. Tim watched with glee as Jason sunk to the floor, his wheezing turning into the high-pitched keening of someone laughing without air. And then – because Babs was the Actual Best – the song started playing over the comm line.

Ah, there it was: the second Heavy Sigh of Exasperated Dad, almost entirely drowned out by Shakira’s “Hips Don’t Lie”.

“Why,” he asked, long-suffering. “Why do you do this to me? Just… you two, get to the Batmobile. I'll get Red.”

Tim raised an eyebrow behind the mask. “You’re the one that chose to be a father. Really, you should have expected this.”

Bruce tilts his head, his own equivalent of a raised eyebrow when he’s in the cowl. “Oh, I’m supposed to expect my children to reference memes and make jokes when one has broken a hip. That’s what I was supposed to be prepared for, when I decided to take in a grieving child. The parenting books never warned me about that.” He leaned down and tried to carefully pick Tim up, as Tim gritted his teeth against the pain. In the background, “Hips Don’t Lie” faded away.

Over the comm, Jason scoffed. “As if you ever read any parenting books.”

“I know for a fact that you didn’t,” Dick added. “Agent A made enough pointed comments about it that I know you didn’t. Also, I call shotgun.”

“You can have shotgun over my cold, dead body, you dick!” Jason snapped.

“First of all, stop joking about your death! Second of all, fuck you, you know the rules! Hood, get back here! I fucking called shotgun as soon as the Batmobile was in view, respect the fucking rules!”

“You’ll have to drag me out!”

“Red Robin gets shotgun,” Batman cut in.

Tim looked at Bruce blankly. “One, Red Robin is staying out of this, as one of them has already tried to kill me before. Two, Red Robin has a broken hip and needs to be in the backseat, because there is no way in hell I can sit upright very well right now.”

“For shame, B,” Dick sighed. “Hood, I swear to fucking god, get the fuck out of shotgun! Batmaaaaan, Hood isn’t following the ruuuules!”

Tim felt the Heavy Sigh that time. Damn, three in one night? They were doing pretty well. “That’s not really anything new, though, is it?” Tim snarked.

“You wanna fuckin’ go, punk?” Jason called back.

Closer now, Tim could see as Dick shook his head in over-dramatic disappointment. “I can’t believe you, Hood. Breaking the Sacred Rules of Calling Shotgun. Threatening to fight a kid with a broken hip. What would Agent A say?”

“Oh shit.” Tim whispered, grinning, “you’re gonna be in trouble.”

Jason growled back over the line, apparently kicking out at Dick from his spot in shotgun. “Fuck you, I’m an adult!”

Someone hummed on the comm line. “Would you care to repeat that?” Alfred said, as calmly as ever.

At the same time, Dick grabbed Jason’s leg to pull him from the Batmobile. Both things caused Jason to squawk as he landed on his ass on the ground. “No, Agent A. Sorry, Agent A. Hey, that is not fair, I got there first! I have longer legs, and you’re gonna stick me in the back?!”

Bruce stopped for a second, watching the chaos of Dick trying to get into the passenger seat by climbing over Jason, who was still laying on the ground, while Jason kept grabbing his legs and pulling him back out. Tim watched Bruce, waiting. Wondering.

Bruce inhaled and–

Jason and Dick both froze as they heard the fourth Heavy Sigh of the night.

“Is… is that a record?” Jason asked, in a reverent whisper.

“I don’t know,” Dick replied, just as awed.

Tim smirked. “Robin and I have managed seven in one night.”

“What?!” Dick shrieked.

“How?!”

Bruce only looked tiredly upon his eldest sons. “Robin and Red Robin,” he said, as though that was enough explanation. Tim had to admit, it kind of was. No need to mention that it was only for show now, more for the purpose of antagonizing their family than anything else. Cass knew, because Cass always knew, but she only giggled whenever she witnessed their fights.

Jason and Dick stared at each other, Dick’s leg still caught in Jason’s grasp. “We can probably get at least five before we get back to the Cave,” Dick muttered lowly, as though the comm wasn’t picking up everything he said.

“Done,” Jason said. “But I still got here first so stop trying to claim shotgun.”

“Hmmm, nope. I called it as soon as the Batmobile was in view. Them’s the rules, little brother.”

Jason snarled. “I’m taller than you! I need the extra leg space more!”

“You are barely taller than me, and not enough to really matter for leg space.”

Batman carefully put Tim down so he was stretched out along the length of the backseat and climbed in the driver's seat. “How is it,” he began, “that Red Robin, your younger brother, is acting more mature than both of you.”

Jason and Dick both stared at Bruce in utter betrayal. Then Jason looked back at Dick. “Go share the backseat with Red, you’re the oldest. He’s in pain. He needs his big brother to tell him it’s okay.”

“God no,” Tim muttered. He did not want Dick’s smothering right now.

Dick gasped, head snapping to stare at Tim. “Holy shit, I didn’t even think about that! Red, does it hurt a lot? You need a hug.”

Plans for revenge were already forming in Tim’s mind as Dick climbed in the backseat with him, letting Tim lean back against him. Dick’s arms wrapped around Tim in what some considered a hug and others considered an inescapable hold. A hand was already carding through his hair and his oldest brother reassured him that they’d be back at the Cave soon. Jason was snickering from the passenger seat.

Dick needed a distraction.

“Hey, O?” Tim asked, “Can you connect to the Batmobile? You probably already know what I’m thinking.”

“Sure thing Red,” Barbara smirked. He knew she did – he could hear it. Through the speakers in the car, “Hips Don’t Lie” started playing, again.

Tim didn’t miss Bruce’s hands tightening on the steering wheel, probably refraining from sighing again. Of course, now that he knew they were actively trying to antagonize him, it was going to be a lot harder.

As Tim expected, with Shakira blaring out of the speakers, Dick and Jason joined in on the singing. Loudly and off-key. A grin stretched across his face. Normally, he’d join in, but the pain was a bit too much for him to do that. That was fine, Bruce was getting twitchy enough as it was.

There was still no sigh yet, though. No matter how terribly Dick and Jason sang along, even going so far as to be off-beat, Bruce only twitched. At least, until the Spanish came.

“You know Spanish,” Bruce whispered, pained, as Jason sang English words that sounded just similar enough. Dick was doing the same, but without coordination, they were singing different words, creating the sound of pure chaos. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“You only have yourself to blame,” Tim snickered.

The fifth Heavy Sigh of Exasperated Dad cut the awful singing off so Dick and Jason could scream their victory. Tim regretted nothing as he slammed his head back into Dick’s chin.

“Ow! Reeed, whyyyy?” Dick whined, leaning his head back away from Tim.

Tim would have twisted around to glare at him if that didn’t seem like a Bad Plan. “You yelled in my fucking ear! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“We’re here,” Bruce called desperately, dragging himself out of the car. “Please, boys, please. Just… stop. It’s been a long night. Take pity on your old man.”

“Eh, I’m gonna go the fuck to sleep anyway,” Jason shrugged as he climbed out. “We succeeded in our goal. Have fun with the broken hip, Timmers! Night!” Tim watched him go, incredulous. A broken hip wasn’t what he’d call “fun” – despite the jokes and references that could be made.

Dick helped Bruce get him out of the car, and then smirked. “Your new ringtone is ‘Hips Don’t Lie’, just so you know. Night, Timmy!”

Tim watched his brothers leave, beginning to twitch himself. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“You’ll never be hip again,” deadpanned Bruce.

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