val-ca2006

[val-ca2006]

Out of Left Field

by HistoricallyInnacurate read at https://ift.tt/HYOQLvB by HistoricallyInnacurate Also titled: Jason loves Danny but really, why is he dancing on the Red Hoods last nerve?     It comes out of left field, as so much about Danny does. Whether it's a normal conversation that suddenly turns into a story about that one time in ancient Greece when he built a functional lazer gun to see if he could and accidentally had an entire city's population believing he was Zeus or when he was banned from the kitchen for reanimating a chicken into a foul-mouthed gunslinger, Danny always manages to surprise him.     So when Jason hears that awkward laugh that means something has happened to remind Danny of something objectively awful, Jason knows he should be prepared for ... well, something objectively awful.     "This is freakin delicious, dude. Where'd you say you got it?" Words: 956, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 10 of I TOLD YOU I could write a one-shot! Fandoms: Danny Phantom, Batman - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Danny Fenton, Jazmine Fenton, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson Relationships: Danny Fenton/Jason Todd Additional Tags: Liminal Jazz Fenton, gremlin Danny and Jazz, yes they did in fact, EAT the Joker, non-graphic cannibalism

[val-ca2006]

it’s so funny to me that in a lot of fics after Tim’s parents die and he’s adopted and moved into Wayne manor, he still just… owns the mansion next door. like Drake manor is just right there, fully furnished and empty, fully inherited by Tim. and he just kinda leaves it there. probably forgets he owns it. how much do you wanna bet the others absolutely do NOT forget that next door is also owned by the family?

how much do you wanna bet that at least twice a month Bruce freaks the fuck out because Damian’s been missing for two days and eventually they track him down to find that he’d just walked over to Drake manor to avoid being told to help Alfred dust and then… couldn’t be bothered to walk back. figured that technically Drake manor could also be ‘home’ and made himself comfortable. is napping in Tim’s childhood bedroom when they find him and is completely unapologetic about eating the food in his kitchen.

how much do you wanna bet that Tim gets a call from the weekly cleaner that he totally forgot was being paid from his bank account to maintain Drake manor, only to be told by a slightly terrified cleaner that she tried to go in to mop the kitchen and found a fucking crime lord in nothing but sweatpants and his helmet, ranting to an ‘oracle’ about some kind of ‘drug drop off’ that he ‘needed off Batman’s radar’, because Jason was too tired to motorcycle all the way back to Crime Alley after a debrief but didn’t want to have to be around Bruce so he just kinda broke into Tim’s old house and has been casually chilling there for the past week while he worked on a case.

how much do you wanna bet that one time Bruce grounded Tim for two weeks and Tim was so annoyed about it that to be petty he snuck out and went back to Drake manor. Bruce was so fucking mad because Tim directly ignored his orders and he couldn’t even do anything about it because every time he brought it up he got loud claims of ‘yOU TOLD ME TO GO TO MY ROOM SO I WENT TO MY FUCKING ROOM, B, I DON’T WANNA HEAR SHIT FROM YOU-!’

how much do you wanna bet when eventually Tim can’t be bothered to deal with the insurance forms and he sells Drake manor, he mentions having to hand over his keys and instantly every single batkid starts digging around in their pockets and producing two or three keys to Drake manor because over the years they’ve all just kinda. been using it. whenever. Tim had no fucking clue they’d made keys. he’s so confused. it gets so much funnier when the next day Tim shows up to the estate agents to drop off his plastic tub of keys for the new owner and he fucking finds Jason Todd there ready to receive them.

“I make a lot of money in my line of work,” he says. “figured it was time for a summer house.”

“you hate being close to Bruce.”

“not as much as Bruce hates shoddy neighbours. i’m going to make his life hell.”

“you made me carry this box of keys for nothing.”

“yeah you can hand those back out actually, i really don’t care who goes in there.”

“I hate you.”

“Don’t be rude to your new neighbour.”

[val-ca2006]

Death and Taxes

Title: Death, Taxes, and the Fenton Exception

Gotham was a city used to chaos—supervillains, vigilantes, the occasional alien invasion. But for one day a year, fear reigned over even the most hardened criminals. That day was April 15th—Tax Day.

And there was one man who became a model citizen exactly once a year: The Joker.

“Oh, you can gas the mayor, blow up the zoo, or replace the city's water supply with lime gelatin,” the Joker once told Harley, lovingly licking a stamp. “But you do not mess with the Internal Revenue Service.”

Danny Fenton didn’t get it.

“Why is everyone so freaked out about taxes?” he asked, lazily floating upside-down in the Batcave, sipping a soda. “It’s not like they’re gonna send hitmen after you or something.”

Jason, perched on the edge of the Batcomputer, stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “They literally will, Danny. That’s exactly what they do.”

Bruce, arms crossed and trying to make sense of Danny's W-2s—which were somehow written on ectoplasm paper thank you ghost writer and referenced “liminal hazard bonuses”—grunted. “Everyone pays taxes. Everyone.”

Danny shrugged. “Not me.”

Tim looked up from his tablet, eyebrows slowly rising. “What do you mean, not you?”

“I mean,” Danny said, setting his soda down with a slight fizz of anti-gravity, “the Fentons don’t pay taxes.”

“…You’re evading federal law?” Damian asked flatly, already reaching for the Bat-phone. “Father, allow me to call the IRS.”

“No no no,” Danny said, raising his hands. “We’re not allowed to pay taxes.”

Silence.

“What.”

It took less than twenty minutes for Oracle to hack the federal database and confirm the impossible.

The Fenton family has not paid a single tax in six generations.

There was a note on their file. A glowing, pulsing, red note—signed and sealed by multiple high-ranking officials and stamped with a Department of Defense warning tag. It read:

FENTON EXCEPTION ACT - CLASSIFIED DO NOT ENGAGE. DO NOT CONTACT. DO NOT AUDIT. THEY ARE TO BE LEFT ALONE. [Subnote: In the event of unsolicited contact, consider immediate relocation and witness protection.]

“Why?” Dick finally asked, trying not to sound hysterical. “Why in the actual haunted tax-code hell are they exempt?”

“I dunno,” Danny said. “Mom said something about Great-Grandpa Jack accidentally collapsing a dimension when he filed with the wrong form. The IRS has left us alone ever since.”

“What form?” Bruce demanded, looking more distressed than he had when Gotham was overrun by Fear Toxin.

Danny scratched his head. “I think it was called... uh... Form 66-Ectoplasm-B? Or maybe that was the one that summoned a wraith accountant? Oh, wait—that was Grandma Fenton…”

Meanwhile…

At an undisclosed IRS location deep under D.C., in a steel bunker reinforced with both magic and nuclear shielding, a red light began to blink.

The agents in the room froze.

“Is that…?” one whispered.

“Fenton ping. But it’s passive. Someone looked them up.”

The lead agent, an old man with a cybernetic eye and an exorcism tattoo burned into his hand, swore under his breath and lit a cigar with trembling fingers.

“God help them. Someone in Gotham must’ve tripped the file.”

Back in Gotham…

The Joker, halfway through filling out his Schedule C, saw the alert pop up on his monitor: Fenton Account Flagged – Gotham Search. He dropped his pen.

“No… No no no no no.”

He reached for his emergency bag: clown nose, fake passport, and a one-way ticket to Fiji.

“Harley!” he screeched. “Pack the hyenas—we’re going off-grid! The Fentons have surfaced!”

That night, Batman received an anonymous, trembling message from the IRS:

“Please, for the love of all that is holy, tell your newest ward to never attempt to file a tax return. We still haven’t recovered from the last time. The Department of Dimensional Finance sends its regards.”

Bruce turned to Danny. “What did your family do?”

Danny shrugged. “I mean, one of our fridge magnets is a minor god of debt collection, so maybe that’s part of it?”

Bruce just groaned and added “Fenton Family Finances” to the Batcomputer’s Top Threats—right between “Joker’s Laughing Gas Variants” and “Demon-Summoning TikTok Teens.”

And so, the truth became legend in Gotham:

There are two things certain in life—Death and Taxes.

Unless you’re a Fenton.

Then even the IRS fears you.

[val-ca2006]

Cat Conspiracy

The Cat Conspiracy

Damian Wayne had tracked assassins across continents, dismantled crime syndicates before breakfast, and fought rogue AI while still managing to ace his Latin homework.

But nothing—nothing—had prepared him for Danny Fenton.

Specifically, Danny Fenton and his suspicious pattern of visiting pet stores all over Gotham, emerging each time with an armful of cats.

Damian narrowed his eyes from the rooftop across the street as Danny exited The Purring Palace with five cats in various shades of tabby draped across his arms, a smug little smile on his face.

Damian’s voice was a low growl in the comms. “Grayson. I’ve got eyes on Fenton again. He’s acquired more felines. That’s the third pet store this week. Something is afoot.”

Across the city, Dick let out an exaggerated groan. “Maybe he just likes cats?”

“No one likes cats that much. Not without a nefarious purpose,” Damian replied, dead serious.

“Damian, buddy, you live with eight trained attack bats and a demon dog. Let the kid have some cats.”

“I will not rest until I uncover his scheme.”

Meanwhile, Danny Fenton was indeed up to something.

He wasn't robbing banks or raising a ghost army or even stealing Gotham's supply of tuna fish. His plan was, in fact, adorably petty.

“Here you go, Mr. Meowser,” he whispered as he tucked the newest stray into a box carefully prepared with toys, a mini litter pan, and an engraved name tag. “You’re going to love your new home. It has three fireplaces, heated floors, and a man who pretends to hate you but secretly buys you imported kibble.”

He grinned as the box closed.

Operation: Furry Revenge was going purrfectly.

After all, if Vlad Masters—billionaire fruit loop, obsessed with power, and frequent thorn in Danny’s ghostly side—was too busy dealing with the ever-growing clowder of feline freeloaders mysteriously showing up at his mansion, then he’d have zero time for evil schemes.

Better yet, Vlad hadn’t sent a ghost assassin after him in weeks. The last thing he’d screamed over the phone was, “Daniel, I am not a cat café!”—right before the line went dead and the sound of a kitten meowing played faintly in the background.

Success.

Vlad was unraveling.

He now owned no less than thirty-two cats, each with names like “Princess Fuzzums,” “Waffle,” and “Mr. Stabby.”

They appeared out of nowhere.

Well, not nowhere. Always in tidy, clearly handmade boxes, addressed to him, complete with vet records and gourmet food recommendations.

He’d tried to be mad. He’d tried to find the source. But the cats... they purred.

One had curled up on his chest and started kneading at his robe while purring like a chainsaw, and now she had a bed on his desk and he dictated business emails around her nap schedule.

He was losing the war, and the worst part? He was starting to like it.

Damian had enough.

He dropped down from a rooftop like an avenging shadow as Danny exited yet another pet store with a fluffy ginger kitten perched on his head like a crown.

“I knew it.”

Danny screamed and nearly dropped the kitten. “What the hell?! Do you practice dramatic entrances?”

“You’ve been acquiring cats for a dark purpose,” Damian said, voice cold and accusatory. “I demand to know what you’re planning.”

Danny blinked at him. Then grinned.

“Would you believe me if I said it was a long-term plan to neutralize a billionaire supervillain through the power of feline responsibility?”

Damian stared.

Danny kept going. “I call it Operation: Claw and Order. My target now owns thirty-two cats. That’s roughly thirty-one more than he emotionally admits to loving.”

“…You’re weaponizing cats.”

“Yes,” Danny said, very proud.

Damian folded his arms. “…Interesting. I approve.”

Danny blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I would’ve used snakes, but your method is arguably more insidious. If you require assistance in continuing this campaign, I can connect you with Selina Kyle. She has... resources.”

Danny cackled. “Oh my god, is this what friendship feels like?”

“No,” Damian said immediately. “…But I’ll help deliver the next batch.”

And just like that, Gotham’s weirdest alliance was born: the half-ghost boy with a vengeance plan powered by kittens, and the Bat’s youngest, most terrifying son.

Vlad never knew what hit him.

But his cats were very well-fed.

[val-ca2006]

I've been obsessed with ur blog for some time now and I wanna share some of my current fav daydream-

So, Addams family like Hale's-

They are all SUPER weird but none of them really know that, the town keeps a respectful distance out of fear/admiration

But stiles?? Absolute weirdo?? Criminal son of a cop who likes to fuck with people CONSTANTLY?? Never drawing too much attention but is pulling a heck of a lot of strings meeting Derek Hale, one of the most Hale™ Hale's out there, stiles decides this one belongs to him

Suddenly Derek is seeing Stiles everywhere and he is not mad about it, practically feral with glee actually, mayhaps Peter decides to try and test Stiles and comes home with a knife lodged in his shoulder and he tells Derek to buy a ring THAT DAY

Lil does he know Derek is already planning their wedding and their joint tombstone and their pups names-

Stalker Stiles... we do not see a lot of him but he is a delight 🎀 lil weirdo 🌸

[val-ca2006]

Skittles-Flavored Fear

AKA "The Batfam rescue several Gotham-U students from Scarecrow's latest hostage situation. However, Dr. Jonathan Crane becomes obsessed when one student has a strange reaction to the Fear Toxin - extreme exhilaration and giddiness." Based on this prompt!!

Danny knows Ghosts feed on intense emotion to survive; he's never had to, never wanted to because it feels... parasitic. He never thought he'd be drugged with it. Sitting among his fellow students, tied up as the Straw Man or whatever monologues about his evil plans, Danny thought the worst thing that could happen would be hallucinating a dissection table. Maybe the GIW or his parents with gleaming googles and scalpels at the ready.

He doesn't even realize they're already being gassed until Danny takes a breath and tastes... skittles? Like, taffy, frosted cream, and melty-sweet syrup. The more he breathes it in, the more he feels strangely floaty. His head feels both heavy and light, stuffed with cotton, and he can barely even hear. (If he could hear, he'd probably would be horrified by his classmates screaming, writhing in terror all around him like a swarm of buzzing locusts.)

And then somebody - The Straw Man - is looming in front of him, grabbing Danny by the face, and curiously tilting his head. After a moment of contemplation, Straw Man rummages around in his satchel before Danny gets freaking hosed in the face with a concentrated dose of Fear Toxin. And then everything gets better worse. Danny feels euphoric. He's giggling, smiling, head so clouded from the high that he doesn't even notice even Dr. Crane drags him through the crowded lecture hall. Doesn't notice when two goons grab him by the arms and start to haul him toward the exit.

What he does notice is the Straw Man's body slamming into the wall. Several figures blur in shades of black, blue, green, and red as Danny squints to try and focus on at least one of them. Then, somebody - blue and black - is at his side. Danny kind of... slides down the hero's side, legs too wobbly to hold himself up, until the hero has to prop Danny into a half-laying-half-sitting position. Danny's still giggling, slurring something and his hand somehow finds the hero's face, patting it in thanks for the rescue.

It's only when the Big Bat comes over, fits an odd-shaped mask over Danny's face, that he stops smelling candy. Instead, he smells something putrid, almost like formaldehyde, sweat, and... unmentionable body fluids. Danny's head is throbbing like brain freeze and a pressure headache, nausea so intense he can taste it in the back of his throat and cramps in his stomach. One moment he's mumbling 'm gon' throw up and the next he's ripping the mask off his face. Turns to the side and... barfs on Batman. (If he were more coherent, he'd probably be mortified. Maybe even die again of embarrassment. Worse when Nightwing cackles uncontrollably from beside him. Ancients, he'd petted Nightwing!! On the freakin' face!!)

That's the last thing that Danny remembers. He wakes up in the hospital several hours later, several texts from Jazz, Sam, and Tucker saying they're taking the next flight to Gotham. Danny flops back into the hospital bed and groans. Groans louder when he remembers what happened in the lecture hall. At least there's probably a very small amount of people who can say they barfed on the Dark Knight of Gotham and got away with it, right?

(Cue Scarecrow constantly trying to kidnap Danny and the Batfam being put on Danny-watch to make sure he's safe. Maybe also trying to figure out why Danny reacts differently to Fear Toxin, but assume he's an undocumented meta with a unique biology. Danny absolutely thinks he's being stalked by Batman as revenge.)

[val-ca2006]

‘Jason goes to Gotham and kills the Joker himself’ ‘Jason asks Talia to kill the Joker and she does so as a token of trust and good parentage’ NO Jason won’t stop fucking whining about how Batman won’t kill the Joker and how unfair it is and Ra’s gets so annoyed listening to him that he bumps Joker off himself just to get his daughter’s new pet project to shut the fuck up

Batman has no idea why halfway through a standard Joker special of glitter, guns, and ‘im going to blow up this bank!’ fucking Ra’s Al Ghul himself stormed into the room, looked incredibly annoyed to even be there, snapped the Joker’s neck in one fell swoop, and then stormed back out and disappeared while angrily muttering something about how ‘we better be able to finish this fucking meeting in peace now- swear to fucking GOD that boy is annoying-‘

he’s honestly so baffled at Ra’s appearing in Gotham in the first place that he doesn’t manage to save the Joker, and Ra’s refuses to even acknowledge any attempts at asking why the fuck he decided to do that. it becomes Gotham’s greatest mystery, and Ra’s doesn’t realise until he gets back home that he just made the biggest mistake of his life; teaching Jason that whining about his problems will lead Ra’s to take care of them for him.

[val-ca2006]

“…Clark, are you… Jealous of Pa?”

“What!? Ma, that's absurd!” He scoffed, casually putting a whole tractor down like a toothpick.

Regrettably, Bruce wasn't there to witness it. Which was the partial reason for this mini vacation.

“I mean— why would I be? Why, because Bruce follows him around like a street cat? Which, I'm not sure HOW that happened. I've been dating the guy for 7 months and he can't even make eye contact with me, but there goes Pa with his amazing Bruce herding skills, I guess.”

Ma Kent’s lip presses down in an ironed line, knowing and quiet.

“I mean— no, I'm not jealous! I just — don't GET how Pa just talks to Bruce so easily. And get him to laugh. And not the laugh he does when he's too scared to be silent,he laughs like MY Bruce. And that's FINE”.

“Honey,” she raises a fond brow and her laugh lines sketch over, “You broke the tractor.”

“Ah, darn.”

—-

Meanwhile, Pa Kent and Bruce have been building stuff around the barn in complete silence for two hours.

“Hey, so, you know Clark’s an alien, right?”

Bruce simply nods. “Hn.”

“…I bet you 50 dollars he doesn't know you know.”

“Hm.”

“100? You’re on.”

[val-ca2006]

I think it'd be really funny if the JLA members were talking about how they jugle parenting and being a hero and whatnot and Bruce enters and they're like 'no way this guy knows anything about this, children are probably terrified of him'

Barry: Oh yeah! Totally get that man, the other day I was looking after my nephew and my sister warned me he was in a gaming phase but I had no idea how long kids these days spend playing videogames

Oliver: My kids like sports better, I think. One time I asked to play mineart with them and they laughed at me

Clark: Jon's always playing that one!

* Enters Bruce in all his goth glory *

Clark: Oh, Hey Batman! Is it time for the meeting yet? We were chatting about our kids :)

Bruce: No. The meeting will be in 23 minutes.

Bruce:

Barry: Anyway... I mean... *clears throat *

Clark: So we can chat some more! It's always good to find things in common. You're welcome to join, Batman. :D

Barry:

Oliver:

Barry: Superman... I'm not sure Batman would have anything to contribute to our conversation

Clark: Why??

Oliver: He's just... He just doesn't seem like the type to like kids, that's all.

Bruce:

Bruce, looking at them with black shadow eyes of someone who never left his teen emo phase: I have five children

Clark:

Barry:

Oliver:

Barry: WHAT

[val-ca2006]

the only pieces of pop culture media Damian ever consumed before going to Gotham were youtube conspiracy theory videos on the Wayne family because Jason found out during an international mission that there was a buzzfeed unsolved video on his death, and when he got back to the loa base he was so indignant that he ended up watching it repeatedly to make fun of it and Damian ended up watching it over his shoulder.

“do people really care so much that they make videos like this? About you?”

Jason, slightly offended: “ok fuck you kiddo there are TONS of Wayne conspiracy videos about me. most of them aren’t even about my death!”

and so of course Damian demands to see them and they end up down a rabbit hole of wild conspiracy theories about various aspects about the Wayne family. the issue is that Damian is still a young impressionable kid and this is literally the only avenue of information about his father that he’s ever had, apart from Talia saying that he’s a great warrior and Jason saying he’s an emotionally constipated dickhead.

what im saying is Damian totally goes to Gotham fully believing about 30 conspiracies about his father and adoptive brothers. it took Jason the entire two week long undercover trip to Gotham from Nanda Parbat to convince him that no, Bruce is not a cannibal secretly consuming dead children at all of his charity galas. Damian’s still secretly wary when he gets abandoned on the Wayne doorstep. He thinks Tim’s a vampire and Dick is a Bruce clone from a lab. he half believes that the family is part of a demon cult. nobody asks why the kid keeps lining his bedroom door with salt at night because they figure maybe it’s just a paranoid assassin kid thing from the league? and then Jason finally comes back and rejoins the family and the first night be catches sight of Damian grabbing salt from the pantry and he groans like ‘FOR THE LAST TIME. SUPERNATURAL YOUTUBE IS BULLSHIT.’ and Tim who 100% obsessively tracks all conspiracies about them to make sure nobody hits the nail on the head about the bats figures out what they’re talking about and he starts laughing so hard he has an asthma attack

[val-ca2006]

But what if all of Gotham knows that Brucie Wayne is a persona Bruce puts on for the public? Like they all saw him be a weird, quiet little boy even before his parents were killed. They saw him be a weirder, quieter little boy after they were killed. They saw him be a loner teenager who hated talking to people, who was always more comfortable keeping to himself.

Then he comes back after traveling the world and he’s suddenly a himbo playboy socialite? Either it’s all an act, or someone finally introduced Bruce Wayne to the good drugs. They’re more inclined to believe it’s the former considering they all start to notice that, while Bruce may always have a drink in his hand when he’s out and about, he never actually drinks it.

But they don’t say anything. They don’t call him out on it. He may be a weirdo, but he does his best to make Gotham a better place for everyone to live. He donates money to all sorts of local charities, he volunteers his time at soup kitchens, he donates brand new clothes and bedding and toiletries to shelters. He’s a good guy. Who cares if he’s a little odd.

Most Gothamites actually feel kinda bad that he must think he needs to play this goofball character in order to fit in, in order to be a contributing member to society.

So they let him play his role.

Then he adopts Dick Grayson, the little circus boy whose parents were just killed in front of him. Who’s eight years old, the same age Bruce was when his parents were also killed in front of him. And everyone knows exactly why he adopted him, because the parallels are too much, and they see so clearly in the way Bruce interacts with him that Bruce just wants to help him, that he understands exactly how Dick must be feeling.

And Dick is a very serious child, at first. He hardly speaks. He clings to Bruce’s hand if Bruce isn’t carrying him. He glares at people. When he does speak, it’s scathing, and he has a sharp tongue.

Then a couple years later, it’s like his personality has completely flipped. He’s goofy and silly and so very similar to Brucie. And they’re all reminded that Dick grew up in a circus, he’s a showman through and through, and they all know it’s an act. They all know Richie isn’t the real him.

But they let him perform, let him put on his show along with Bruce. Because Gotham loves the Waynes, and if they want to have a public persona to have some sort of privacy, then they aren’t going to stop them.

[val-ca2006]

Mini Prompt: Everyone needs to calm down

Batfam is convinced that Danny is a young clone of Bruce, and prepares themselves to have a new son/brother join the family. 

Bruce even goes above and beyond as he arranges a “play date” for Danny and Conner to meet. A way to show Danny that he’s not the only clone around, and that he will always be a part of the family. 

They do all of this before they actually confirm anything. Danny is not a clone. 

[val-ca2006]

Another HC of mine is that Dick used joint naps as a sort of time-out for Damian since it both reinforced trust and got the kid to take a break. At first it worked as an actual punishment, because it was pretty much Damian watching Dick sleep for an hour... until Damian started to really trust Dick.

Damian has grown to love required naptime; Napping With Papa is his favorite activity now and, of course, his brain dictates Dick can never know this, so he never asks to take a nap and instead strategically acts out until Dick makes him take a nap.

Damian: "-and that is reason number twenty-four why I should be allowed to inflict bodily harm whomever I choose. Reason number twenty five is-"

Dick: "Wow okay, I didn't know you could this annoying."

Damian, snapping: "Do not interrupt me!"

Dick: "What has you so cranky anyway? Did you get much sleep?"

Damian, perking up: "My sleep has nothing to do with this."

Dick: "Yeah, no, it sounds like you need some sleep. Let's take a nap."

Damian, flatly: "Drat. I hate this."

Also Damian: "Just to be clear, are we using your room or mine? I'd prefer yours because the scent of your shampoo has rubbed off on the pillows and I think it has a calming effect on me. We will do your room. I will bring my Robin blanket, I think it has a calming effect on me as well. Also please hum when we are napping, it makes me feel a kitten, not that the feeling is good. It's just a thing... A thing I have not felt since I was three years old if I recall."

Dick:

Dick: "...Correct me if I'm wrong, but I get the feeling you like taking naps with me."

Damian: "You are incorrect in that notion, I do not care for the practice." *Latches onto Dick's sleeve and starts dragging him upstairs* "Now can we please take a nap already? This was your idea after all!"

Damian, bundled in his Robin blanket, cradled by Dick: "...This is the worst. I love you."

Dick: "What was that?"

Damian: "Nothing. You're hearing things... I love you."

Dick:

Damian:

Dick: "...I love you too, kiddo."

Damian, eyes wet: "I don't recall asking."

[val-ca2006]

Ok ik this probably isn't real but what if Alfred thought it would be fine if he just gave Tim the suit and told him "go, be free, don't die or you're fired" bc he forgot kids don't usually fight martial arts or given Bat Training™ from a young age. Imagine:

Alfred: Go be the light in these dark times, son.

Tim: thank you. I will.

*15 minutes later*

Bruce, kicking down the door, holding Tim by the cape and dangling him like a scuffed cat: ALFRED WHAT THE HELL!

Alfred: Sir! That was mahogan-

Bruce: You can't just let him go out there! He didn't even know how to punch correctly!!!

Alfred: Whatever do you mean, he should have learned that by now.

Bruce:

Alfred:

Bruce: ... W h a t

Alfred: Young Mr. Drake should have learned by now several martial arts. I mean when you were 11, you-

Bruce, absolutely tired: Alfred.

Alfred: -And by 16 he'll be ready for aerial combat. When I enlisted, lying about my age, I took to the planes rather fast-

Bruce: ALFRED.

Alfred: Don't shout at me, Master Bruce, it's unbecoming. What is it?

Bruce, holding up Tim higher to be in Alfred's line of sight and gesturing vaguely at the small child: HE DOESN'T KNOW COMBAT. HE'S NORMAL.

Alfred: Normal? What do yo- oooooohhhhhhhhhhh

Bruce: YEAH. 'OH' IS RIGHT!!!

Alfred: ... What did I just say about shouting? It's unseemly, Master Bruce.

[val-ca2006]

I HC that Dick's family endangering themselves is one of the only things that really pisses him off, so this is how Robin: Son of Batman happens in my head:

Damian: "I'm leaving on an important mission to atone for my sins. I don't know how long I'll be gone. Goodbye."

Dick: "That sounds serious. Should I bring our Batmobile?"

Damian: "No, you are not coming. This is something I have to do alone."

Dick: "Agreed, this should stay between us. I won't even tell Alfred."

Damian, frowning: "No, you are not listening to me. Only I am going."

Dick, nodding: "Mhm, just you and me, like the good ol' days."

Damian, seething: "You are being obtuse on purpose."

Dick: "Yes, yes I am. Because you are twelve and as important as it is, you are definitely not allowed to go on this trip. So either you let me come along or you're grounded."

Damian, bewildered: "What? You cannot ground me! We do not even live in the same house anymore!"

Dick: "You want to test that theory? :)"

Damian, sensing danger: ".........On second thought, I will let you tag along."

Dick: "Good choice. I'll fire up the Batmobile."

[val-ca2006]

I think that Jon unconsciously tunes into Damian and I don’t mean just his heartbeat but his voice and surroundings as well. He started doing it after he found out Damian has died before and did it out of anxiety but now it’s just background noise. However the moment someone insults Damian or when he gets into big fights with his family members (read:Bruce) not their general petty ones, it comes to the forefront of his mind and it takes everything in him to not go there and defend him.

Everyone is confused whenever Jon randomly has beef with them when in true detective fashion Tim figures it out, at first he thought Damian just told him but sometimes he comes out of nowhere after someone insults Damian (Jon has anger issues he just can’t help himself sometimes) which is when he tests it out by insulting Damian very badly while holding a sign 🪧 saying “I don’t mean it, I’m doing an experiment so don’t say anything” which confuses Damian who only gets even more confused when Jon comes barrelling in before it clicks.

[val-ca2006]

5 times the batfam uses Dick's name to persecute Bruce

"Dick is ready - "

"Not unless you've taken Viagra, old man"

-

"Dick is up-"

"Do not be disgusting Father."

-

"I need Dick for this."

"I'll call Clark but TMI Bruce."

-

"Dick - "

"Language, Master Bruce."

-

It's been weeks since Bruce last said Nightwing's name out loud, and they are all here to punish him for it.

"I'll remind you all we are in a public space," he says in warning, before sighing heavily. His considers his words and grimaces, but there is no way out. Gordon also appears to be holding back his delight. "Dick will not be available for dinner, Commissioner."

Swanning past, his eldest (who had clearly lied about an emergency in Blüdhaven) remarks, "The catering staff finalised the menu weeks ago, too late to change it B."

He is going to disown them all.

-

Thank you @grannyhitsuzen!