#Am I Your Daughter

[mymangamemes]

You never know

From Am I Your Daughter? by HASH and Flow

[everwalldigan]

Only those who have seen the light know that Bruce Wayne is absolutely the type of annoying father who asks for his adult children for grandkids EVERY chance possible. This is the same man who immediately put in his two weeks notice from batman-ing the MINUTE he discovered he had a granddaughter.

Bruce, materialising in bludhaven: when are you and Barbara getting married

Dick: NO.

Bruce: *sad GRANDCHILDLESS noises*

Bruce, materialising in crime alley: when you are going to settle down with a nice girl or guy and give me a-

Jason: *starts shooting*

Bruce, materialising in the clocktower:

Babs: don’t even fucking think about it

Bruce: *dematerialises away sadly*

Finally, at the annual family dinner, Bruce: whoever is the first to bring me a grandchild will be banned from ever having to take over batman

[welcometogrouchland]

(ID in alt) you guys even fuck w/ the flash on here???

[lotus-lost-n-found]

Some Batfam Headcanons because the brain never stops;

Jason hates being called "Bruce's Son". But he hates it more when hes called "One of Wayne's Orphans/Wayne's child" because fuck you I'm his son-! wait no--

With the exception of Damian, they rarely refer to Bruce as "Dad/Father". Either it didn't occur to them/didn't see the need to/thought it would be strange. But when Dick/Jason/Tim/Cass are tired or injured it might slip out. And Bruce might just crumble a bit at it

Doesn't mean they don't say it to their siblings when Bruce is out of Earshot.

"Dad said you couldn't." "What do you mean Dad said I couldn't use that mug? It's my mug!" "You snooze you lose Timmy Boy-" "Jason don't be an asshole-"

That being said Bruce says "son/daughter/child" at every available opportunity he can after he knows that they have acclimated enough that they wouldn't be uncomfortable/know they can tell Bruce that they don't want to be called that.

First time Bruce called Dick "son" in a way that meant "You are my kid" and not in a "This police officer just called me son with a brow furrow" way Dick grinned and carried on with the conversation. Later he wondered if his dad wouldn't like someone else calling him Son; but Dick thinks about the life he was given because of Bruce and thinks maybe his dad wouldn't mind.

Calling Jason "son" is a hit or miss situation, even before he died. The first time it happened he was confused, he didnt think that was the relationship they had and it made everything change for him. He got frustrated--not angry--with himself and Bruce at this sudden emotional turmoil. Wasn't he just the kid Bruce picked up in an alleyway? Wasn't he just some street rat in bright Robin clothing? (He lets himself believe that he can be Bruce's son. If for only a little while).

Tim cries after Bruce is out of earshot, it would've been a year or so after his parents died and he was adopted. He didn't think he could have been wanted like that again. Even if you think the Drake's had A+ Parenting or not, I don't think he would have gotten a lot of confirmation of being wanted otherwise.

Cass smiles, emotions carefully concealed under her expression. She's grateful she found Bruce and he doesn't mention it if she leans a bit closer in a request for closeness.

Damian doesn't expect anything less, he only appears satisfied. But also relieved that he has gotten the confirmation that yes, Bruce wants and accepts him.

EDIT 10/11; hiii, i have added Duke, Steph & a Bonus in a reblog you can find on the same blog under my 'batfamily headcanons' / 'sore rambles' tag. have fun :)

[guardianspirits13]

last episode 3 rant for now i almost promise but like.

looking back it's an obvious improvement that Annabeth sees Percy exploding the toilets and immediately clocks him as a son of Poseidon, and also that she takes one look at stone statues and "aunty em" and takes no time to put two and two together. Like this girl has been studying for this her whole life, she's probably gone around camp devouring stories from new arrivals to piece together how these myths and monsters manifest in the modern world.

Kid shows up with a minotaur horn, a stormy temper, and a bone to pick with the gods? That's her ticket out of here.

Wandering along a satyr path to an almost guaranteed monster lair littered with statues? That's Medusa.

Also love the juxtaposition of "wise beyond her years battle strategist" Annabeth and "child in a convenience store with no budget" Annabeth. She's intelligent and quick-witted but still a kid i the ways it matters.

[lala-blahblah]

I get why people headcanon that Trucy would call Edgeworth "Uncle Miles" because it represents how close he is to Nick and Trucy and how he's basically part of the family etc. HOWEVER I cannot help but imagine the shock and horror of passersby who hear Trucy call one man "uncle" and one "daddy" as they watch Nick and Miles interact lovingly in public and come to the conclusion that Nick is openly cheating on his spouse with his spouse's brother.

[sandushengshou]

Interview with the Vampire | 2.05 “Don't Be Afraid, Just Start the Tape”

[playingitup]

I recently read a fic that unlocked a previously undiscovered interest of mine, and i cant seem to find any other fics like it, so you guys get to watch me spiral (again)

This came from the Talia al-Ghul is Jason Todd's adopted mom pipeline, and the fic was a very short blurb where someone offered Jason the Joker's death as a courting gift, as according to the League of Assassin's tradition had to ask for Ra's blessing as the head of his family, and Damian tranqued Batman to let this happen, because 'this has nothing to do with you, Father, this is al-Ghul family business' and aaaaaa

Just, the League having its own culture, traditions.

I know its Ra's assassins club, but he is old as fuck. There have probably been families that are part of the League for generations. This amounts to not inly courting traditions, but customs, manners, holidays, all with a different twist that came with time in this isolated society, and i just want to see more fics that explore this.

Damian being cut out of his culture completely, no idea why no one responds the way he expects, not because of trauma and 'why is no one punishing or praising me', but genuine 'i told Drake i could demonstrate my skills with a blade for him, and why didnt he offer to show me how he fights with his staff??? He didnt even say he already knew how to use blades, is he implying that i am not sufficiently trained to be capable of teaching him? Does he think i am not worthy of being in this family, and thats why he refuses to train with me??'

(Meanwhile Tim firmly believes he just got threatened to be shish-kebabed by a 10 yo and is shook. Of course, Damian just wanted to spend quality time with his new family member the way he knows how to, but tim doesnt know that, and Damian doesn't know thats how tim understood it either)

And Jason being a part of the al-Ghul household, too, is very interesting. I love the concept of Talia sending him on his way to Gotham as Red Hood partialy to make the city safer for when Damian went over, Hood putting the fear of god into criminals so that the Demon Prince could walk through the city of his father with less fear and apprehension. Jason and Damian celebrating League holidays and traditions together (of course, jason only does it so the little guy can have this confor of home and family, he did promise T that he would take care of him, its not like he enjoys quality time with a family member he never tried to kill, or that he misses the conforts of the league and dinners with the al-Ghuls, of couse not).

Anyways, thank you for listening to my ted talk

[gunstellations]

a little family

[leupagus]

Working Title: Grumpy Old Man

Inspired by this excellent post:

He sees her on the playground, of all places. First time he's pretty sure he hallucinates her, pushing a little mini-me version of herself on the swings with her hair in a messy ponytail and arguing with someone on the phone. She's gone grey in the fifteen years since he's seen her last, but she still stands straight and tall like a dancer, still has that dimple on her cheek that had scrambled his brain more times than he could count back in the day.

By the time Jack's confident that she's actually real, they're long gone and Theresa is tugging at his pant leg, demanding uppies and also an ice cream.

"Your mom won't be too happy about that," he warns her even as he swings her up onto his shoulders, the move natural now with almost three months of practice — ever since he'd gotten the call in April, Ingrid barely able to get the words out: Dad, he's gone. He's gone and what are we going to do? "She said no sweets until after dinner."

"Ice cream anna cookie, Grampa," she bargains, fisting her little hands in his hair to steer him toward the ice cream truck like she's an oversized rat hauling him around a fancy restaurant kitchen. He's gotten used to it, though he suspects there's always going to be a part of him terrified that one day she's going to yank him right into traffic and Ingrid will dig up his corpse just to kill him all over again.

(That's all that had kept him from stepping off the roof on his bad days; kept him from unlocking the gun safe in his closet, kept him from the knives and the pills and the dozen other ways he knew he could've ended it quick and clean and painless. Eventually his bad days had faded into the sort of bad day that most people bitch about to their friends or their families, and he didn't have to hold onto his daughter as his one reason for living. But it had been a long few years of that, teetering so close to the edge that tripping had felt like relief.)

-

The next time he sees her at the playground, she sees him first. "Dr. Abbot?" The voice is hesitant, puzzled, and immediately familiar.

She's wearing an oversized sweater-dress and achingly practical boots, her daughter perched on one hip and clapping arrhythmically to a song only she can hear. Jack gets up from the bench after glancing over at the sandpit — Theresa is still engaged in her battle with some kids that look straight out of a remake of Children of the Corn, but she can take them easy — and tries not to read too much into the broad smile on her face as she realizes it is, in fact, him.

"Long time, no see," he says, and she laughs.

"No kidding. You're — how are you?"

"I'm good. And you—" he bites off you look good and gestures at the little girl, who's arching her back in an almost perfect semi-circle now, the universal sign for any kid who wants to be set down. Her mother obeys and the girl takes off like a shot for the slide, still clapping. "Congratulations on," and he makes a vague gesture that he hopes conveys getting knocked up at some point and having a kid with the same cute nose as you have.

"Oh, I just stole her from some mom who wasn't paying attention over at the Baby Gap. Kidding," she adds, as if that little girl could be anyone else's.

"What's her name?"

"Diana. Her father’s idea — he’s big into Wonder Woman — but it’s grown on me.”

“Oh,” he says, and is aware that his voice got pretty high just then. He’s almost sixty-three goddamn years old, this isn’t acceptable. “Congratulations on that, too.”

“Mm,” she says, considering, “probably better to congratulate me on the divorce. But thanks. I can’t pretend I regret it, since I got little Beanie out of the deal.” She watches her daughter for a little while before looking around. “And are you… um. Is one of these—”

Jack abruptly realizes how it looks — an old guy sitting on a bench in the middle of a playground — and says hurriedly, "Yeah, the one in the sandbox over there. My granddaughter."

She turns and frowns. "Which one?"

Just then Theresa scrambles to her feet, holding something aloft. “GRAMPA WE FOUND A POOP,” she bellows. “GRAMPA IT’S STINKY.”

“That one,” he says, blowing out a sigh. “That one’s mine.”

[imtoolazytoo]

Hi new Malevolent listener here why has this podcast made me say on multiple occasions “Please tell me his wife took the kid”

Why is that the least traumatic possibility for this man

[ave-immaculata]

me when I have to ora but also (get this) labora 😭

[nukacoola]

Can you imagine if Bethesda let you roleplay in Fallout 4. There is so much opportunity for an incredibly interesting backstory given your character lived before the war.

You could’ve been a stormwater technician with a background in water purification systems that could’ve been an essential help to the Minutemen and the people of the Commonwealth. You could’ve been a botanist or biologist who has a better handle on how flora and fauna have evolved and mutated over overtime. That would’ve made you an incredible asset to the Brotherhood or helped you fit right in with the Institute. You could’ve been a city planner that knows the Commonwealth and it’s underground secrets like the back of your hand. The Railroad would’ve coveted those skills when trying to come up with new routes or find secure safehouses. All of these professions and many more could’ve come with stat bonuses or special feats or unique dialogue like in The Outer Worlds.

But no, you are a wife-having male soldier or a husband-having female lawyer who has a baby son that you can’t even choose the gender or name of. And no, you don’t get stat bonuses or anything interesting like that. Each sole survivor had unique dialogue regarding their past lives that was cut from the game despite being fully implemented in an attempt to not box the pre-boxed characters Bethesda already created. They even have canon names and some people for some reason choose to keep them!!! And above all the “choice” that you are forced into is inherently sexist because why would a pre-war lawyer know how to use power armor in the first quest or even fire all these crazy kinds of guns. The game is practically built around the male sole survivor, even the intro features him.

How can Bethesda claim Fallout 4 is a role-playing game when you are forced to have a white voice, a white grandfather/grandmother/father (also in the intro) and to be a certain sex (no nb option and incentivized male character choice) and have a certain background job and the dialogue options that you are given are “yes, no, sarcasm, and question”. Fallout 4 had the potential to be the best game in the entire series and it is still my favorite but fuck the wasted potential is so rough.

[lady-lilly-gray]

I hope to god we see Lizzie in the smoking room

ITS BEEN SEVEN YEARS SENSEI

[lunar-years]

Thinking about Haymitch's amazement at Ma's ability to push on after his father died; how she kept up doing her laundry while Haymitch could only sit in their house and cried. How he thinks about Wyatt several days after the bloodbath and specifically regrets that he hasn't had a chance to grieve Wyatt's death properly. How much it means to him when Mags sends him that ice cream after Maysilee dies, because it feels like the one moment he's had in the arena to truly just sit there in his grief without other expectations. It's okay to cry in front of Mags. How deeply it torments him that the caskets come back with him on the same train. and then how it...never stops. instead of finally getting the chance to grieve his lost friends properly when he gets home, he's only met with more loss. Ma and Sid. Lenore Dove. Cutting off everyone else in his life. And then it's just his angry ghosts and the caskets that come back with him on the train, every year hence.

...Until he and Katniss return to Twelve at the end of Mockingjay, he's never been given the opportunity of unfettered grief. He's never really processed everything that's happened to him. So when he can't check on Katniss for weeks (months?), and instead has to enlist Sae, it's not just that he's busy drinking again for the first time after being sober in 13, or even that he's grieving the more immediate deaths from the war and the destruction of their district. He's quite literally grieving on a backlog of 25 years. He's grieving all the way back to Wyatt Callow.

[emiko-matsui]

hey guys i just found out that emily's full name is emily lynn axford and i think i threw up blacked out and woke up in another dimension. oh god..... like....... like sandr... like sandra..... like....