#no more writing for mom...

[zz-kitty-zz]

I'm sorry, did you want to use this Chromebook??

[redactedrem]

Headcanon where after so many arguments between the batkids and Bruce over his paranoia and complete disregard for his kids privacy, the entire family had compromised with (in the healthiest way possible) downloading life360 on their phones and that's how they all keep track of each other.

Now Bruce knew that this is mostly for his benefit and is supposed to be a healthy alternative for his unhealthy paranoia and helicopter parenting, but what he wasn't expecting was for his kids to start keeping track of him.

He's putting gas in his car and Dick calls him because apparently Dick has been watching him drive around on the app? And Bruce is currently at a gas station thats right around the corner from a Taco Bell and now Dick wants him to get food for everyone since he's already there.

He's driving home from a meeting and Steph calls him because her and Duke were shopping in the area and wants to know if he can pick them up, when he asks how she knew he was on the same street, he gets a "Oh I just like to stalk everyone on the app for funsies." as an answer.

Jason calls him and he can barely get out a hello before Jason cuts him off, "Bruce why the fuck is your phone battery on 5%, charge your damn phone" which completely stuns him because why does he know that. He clears his throat before answering. "Jason, what?"

"Everyone can see each others phone batteries on '360, now charge your phone." Is all he gets before Jason hangs up on him.

[bluerosefox]

Always Favors You

Another Sibling Danny and Jason idea!!

"Are you Jason Peter Todd?!" demanded a deep and commanding tone from the strange glowing being in front of them.

All the Bats stiffened and tensed, no doubt gearing up for a fight against the being that somehow knew Red Hood's full name.

Jason, Red Hood, decided to put on a brave front despite no doubt cursing in his head and wondering how the heck did this thing know his full freaking name.

"Whose asking." he snarled out, his hands twitching for his gun when the huge glowing knight with purple flames coming out of his helmet and cape, who was riding on a nightmare looking horse while they all had been in the cave going over tonight's patrol.

The Knight didn't seemed bothered by his response nor did he even seem to care or flinch when Batman made his own demand on 'Why was he there and who was he' or when Damian unsheathed his sword and pointed it towards him. Instead the strange glowing Knight reached to it side and pulled out... A glowing scroll? Huh. (Also he completely unnerved everyone in the room when the Knight didn't even react when Batman had tossed a Baterang when he reached for his side)

The Knight opened the scroll and spoke clearly with purpose.

"Jason Peter Todd,

You are hereby invited as a special guest of honor to the crowning of our future King of the Infinite Realms.

Daniel Phantom, once Daniel Jackson Fenton, and once Daniel Austen Todd.

Prince of the Infinite Realms, the Keeper of Balance, The Peacekeeping Halfa, the Defeater of the Tyrant King Pariah Dark, The Great One, Youngest of the Ancients, Ancient of Space, The Bridge between Life and Death.

You, the half-brother of our King, have been given the highest of honors for your past actions and will be given housing and food in the Realms and Phantom's Keep, for the week long event. Personal servants and attendants will be at your disposal and a seamstress will be on hand to tailor make your attire for the Coronation.

Signed: Clockwork. Ancient of Time. Watcher of the Infinite Timeline. Kronos. Mentor and Adviser.

PS: I shall have Fright Knight ("Me" the Knight bluntly said for a second) leave this scroll along with a personal one for you from Daniel to read over and once you make up your mind sign the bottom of the scroll.

I do hope in time you will pick the right choice Jason Todd, we of the Infinite Realms would like to reward you for your actions. After all, if you hadn't gotten young Daniel away from your father that night all those years ago, we would never had gained our Prince nor be free from our once Tyrant King.

Ah, one more thing.

The Infinite Realms will always favor you Jason."

Jason felt like he couldn't breath as Fright Knight? Rolled up the scroll, pulled a letter from his side, and held out the two items for him to take.

[the-raindeer-king]

Imagine Simon's mom doesn't die with Tommy and Beth. Maybe she was out of town, or at a friend's house, and Roba's men were sloppy and missed her. Anyway, so it's just Simon and her now, and because he blames himself for what happened, he's pulled away from her.

He pays her rent, even if he wanted her to live in a nicer apartment complex. And he visits during her birthday and Mother's Day, and sometimes just randomly stops by. But he never stays very long, and he doesn't tell her a lot about his new life. It's a very one sided relationship, but she tries to make the best of it.

And then you move in next door, during one of Simon's deployments. You feel bad for the sweet lady that lives next to you. She never seems to have much company, and you take it upon yourself to befriend her, spending more time in her apartment than your own.

You learn about her ex husband, her sons, the tragedy, and most importantly, you learn about Simon. And you hate him. Mrs. Riley (she insists you call her Sarah) is such a lovely woman, and it's clear how much she cares about her living son, how hard she's trying to keep their relationship alive.

It's the second Mother's Day after you move in when you finally meet Simon. Your relationship with your own mother is complicated, so you've opted to spend the day with Mrs. Riley. You'd gotten her a small present, and had planned to spend the day drinking wine and watching historical romance movies.

You're thoroughly shocked when you knock on her door, and a man answers. Six feet, built like a brick house, but under his scowl, you recognize Sarah's eyes.

“You must be Simon.”

His scowl deepens, but before he can say anything, Mama Riley is pushing past him, pulling you into her apartment to fuss over you.

She apologizes for not telling you sooner, but your plans will have to be rescheduled. Simon's back early, and she can't waste a precious second.

You're understanding. You've listened to her worried rants, given her space to cry over how things have turned out. You know she loves spending time with her son, even if the visits are short and he doesn't talk much.

Simon doesn't miss the way you glare at him. There's a fury in your eyes, even as you cheerily wish his mother a happy mother's day. For a moment, he wonders if you're a spy. But that thought is quickly diminished, when you verbally eviscerate him at the door.

You're quiet, not wanting to upset his mom, but your anger is clear. It may not be your business, but Mama Riley is your friend, and you adore the older woman. And you cannot stand by while he treats her like this. She loves her son so much, and he needs to step up and try harder.

As you're chewing him out, Simon's already head over heels, planning your wedding as the seconds tick by.

(A/N: You can read this as a stand alone piece, but I did write 3 more drabbles (four in total!) for this! They're all on my blog under the tag mama riley au. Thank you for reading!)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

[morganbritton132]

I’m thinking about Steve’s mom in the context of this AU I’m (apparently) creating where Steve is the affair baby that broke up his much older half-siblings’ family.

Put yourself in the shoes that his mother would’ve been in. You’re nineteen. You have no education and you’re working your first real job. You start an affair with your boss - who is the father of the friend that got you the job - because you’re young and you think you’re in love, and you don’t think of the consequences.

Suddenly, you’re pregnant and he’s leaving his wife for you, and you still think you’re in love so you follow his lead. You’re nasty to his first wife because he is and you’re insecure because she nothing but nice to you. Her children hate you but Richard says that they’ll get over it so you believe him. They never do.

Then you’re married and you have access to more money than you’ve ever had in your life, and you’re in love. And you’re a mother. He sleeps through your delivery but everything is okay when you hold your little boy.

You know that things have changed now. That you’ll do everything in your power to make sure this little boy makes it in the big scary world. You promise yourself that you’ll do anything for him.

The baby cries, and you cry, and you thought things would be different and that you’d know what to do, but you really don’t. You don’t feel a connection with your baby beyond wanting to protect him, and you hate this. You hate being a mother. You hate this constant failing.

Richard is never home. He still works long hours but you’re no longer at the office with him. He seems completely disinterested in being a father and less interested in you playing mother, and you’re not stupid.

You know he left his wife for a younger, more attractive woman. You know he fell in love with you because you’re passionate, you’re fun, and you haven’t been that in a while.

You stood smug and happy by his side while he tried to take everything in the divorce, and you know his first wife has more money and influence than you. You know she has lawyers and you don’t. You don’t know what happens to you if he wants a newer model. You don’t know what happens to your son but you think he’ll try to take him from you.

Richard doesn’t want to be married to a mother, so you stop being one. You have to for the marriage to survive and it feels like guilt to be relieved by that. You’re not his secretary anymore, but his assistant. You travel with him and you join the right committees. You join the walking club and you shed the last of the baby weight, and he loves more than he ever has.

And you’re happy but you’re not in love.

It was too easy to pass motherhood onto Richard’s daughter, onto the nanny. It was easy to sidestep into the role of ‘friend,’ so you befriend your son.

Not a close friend. Not in any way that would make Richard feel like he wasn’t your world, but you’re there. You know the drama currently happening on the basketball team but not that your baby is failing English. You go on spa dates and make a whole day out of getting your hair cut together, but you don’t discipline him. Richard does that.

Then one day, you come home from the Poconos and your son has bruises on his face and bandages on his fingers, and a haunted vacant look in his eyes. He job was a pile of burning rubble when you drove into town. You asks what happened and if he’s alright, and he’s gives you the same smile you’ve been wearing for years, “Everything’s great, ma.”

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC Camp

The Batfam force Damian to go to summer camp to socialize with kids his own age and have some normal childhood experiences

That’s all well and good, but normal does not describe his cabin’s councilor, one Daniel “for the love of Ancients call me Danny” Fenton

Between the son of the bat and a Fenton, camp is going to be weird

[doctorsiren]

give this angle another tri

[inkskinned]

you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.

you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.

he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.

a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.

he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.

you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.

people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.

wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.

also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.

he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."

you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.

"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."

he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.

you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.

is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?

you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.

[batcavescolony]

Ok let's go back to this line from Agatha All Along

"it's underwater! There's a boy. It's a prank. They tricked him. He's gonna drown. it's a bad place. And the people, the family, there's no one to love him! He's got no one!"

Guys we're getting some Tommy lore and it's heart breaking💔 (we knew it would be).

[rawrsatthetree]

I’ve seen people compare Julian Devorak to Astarion, and honestly I think you’re all embarrassing wrong.

Gale Dekarios is Julian Devorak.

Astarion is Count Lucio

[iliothermia]

I'm really struggling with communication right now, so I'm gonna be a bit distant for a bit. I really appreciate the patience n kindness 💗

[funkyplantguy]

grian gets saved by hotguy and then pines over him <3

so this "au" (if you can even call it that when it exists exclusively in my brain and now in this ask) is mostly crack and comes from me joking around a couple days ago with some friends so...don't take it too seriously. that being said...

-

you have (3) new comments! view now?

click.

areeongreenday: hey! so this is insane.

click.

h0tguysnumber0n3fan: i guess i kind of understand where you're coming from with this - scar goodman and hotguy do share a similar sense of humor, and i sort of see what you're saying at 47:03 when you compared their voices (more specifically, the inflection they use on specific words) but...i guess i'm having a hard time imagining scar as a superhero. don't get me wrong - he's plenty cool, but...didn't he say that he's a full-time content creator now? i don't know that he'd really have the time to record, edit, and post videos on top of saving the city on a near-daily basis. interesting theory, though! admire the dedication.

click.

scargoodman: ;)

and there it was, taunting him - that damn winky face, yet again, commented nearly instantaneously each time grian uploaded a new video about the man itself. scar goodman - known to many as the man who had risen to sudden fame in the video essayist community with his charming good looks and boisterous personality. scar goodman, whom grian suspected was secretly none other than the city's beloved superhero. after all, they'd both made their debuts within a week of each other and shared not only a similar path of success but a similar sense of humor, a similar speaking style, a similar body type, a similar laugh...sure, there were things that didn't quite line up, but...for the most part, they appeared to be the exact same person.

okay - maybe grian was a little obsessed. but what was he supposed to do, not point out the obvious?

what made matters worse was that nobody seemed to believe him. no matter how many videos he posted, no matter how much proof he gave...nobody was willing to hear him out.

nobody except scar goodman himself, who seemed intent to drive him absolutely insane.

grian grumbled something to himself, pocketing his phone and continuing down the long, narrow sidewalk to his apartment complex. he'd lost track of time at work yet again, and as a result, the sun had long set. this wasn't unusual for him - he often opted to remain late in the office to "finish up a few things" (ie take advantage of the functional wifi his workplace offered instead of trying to upload videos on his crummy home network), so he was...fairly comfortable tracing the path back to his apartment in the dark of night. the street lights in this part of town didn't work exceptionally well, but with the familiarity of it all and the dull light of the moon, grian typically fared well enough.

tonight, however...well, call him paranoid, but...something felt...off. something about the way all the buildings around him were dark, indicating that their inhabitants were either asleep or out (and entirely unreachable if grian were to call for help). something about the absence of the various stray cats that he often crossed paths with. something about how the complete and utter silence made his ears ring.

"aw, what's this? a cute guy? well, pretty boy, you've just entered the wrong part of town at the wrong time. unfortunately, loose lips sink ships, or...uh...however the saying goes, so...sorry, i can't let you leave this visit alive."

before grian could even register the words being spoken (where were they even coming from?? above him? below him? behind him? everywhere, all at once?), he felt hands gripping the back of his shirt. in another moment, he was on the ground, his breath clawing its way out of his chest. above him stood a figure, shrouded in darkness and the billowing, starry cape draped across their shoulders. in their hands was something glinting, something sharp, something deadly -- something that grian's frazzled, spinning mind was unable to put a name to. or maybe it refused to - refused to name the tool that would be his doom. maybe it was better that way, he mused idly, as the figure raised it high above their head. maybe it was best to not know.

"hey! there you are - what did i say about running off?"

and just as quickly as he'd accepted his death, the threat of it was gone, vanquished by the appearance of the tall, costumed man on the rooftop adjacent. grian felt his breath return to his chest in one fell swoop, filling his lungs and sending a wave of sensitivity to his throat. he coughed, hard, tears welling helplessly in his eyes, and the newcomer's attention snapped to him in an instant.

"oh - and you've made a friend! how nice. unfortunately, there are no plus ones in prison."

"hotguy," grian's would-be murderer snarled. "i thought i'd lost you."

"nah. i may have gotten lost, sure. but you didn't lose me. there's a difference."

"you'll wish that i'd lost you when i'm through with you."

"oh, that was lame!" the man cried, hopping over the low rooftop wall and landing neatly on the ground below (how he did it, even grian wasn't sure. by all intents and purposes, his legs shouldn't have that level of shock absorption, even if he had been fed some chemical cocktail by a mad scientist at a young age as he boasted). "listen - we've got to get you a better catchphrase."

hotguy strode forward, his eyes glinting behind his tinted visor. he glanced to grian out of the corner of his eye, then back to the villain - then back to grian again, his mouth going slack in surprise. grian met his gaze - took in his appearance - and let out a bark of laughter, one not missed by either scar goodman or the cloaked figure in front of him. scar returned his laughter, throwing his head back and planting his hands firmly on his hips.

"well, what a coincidence," he giggled, after a moment. "my new catchphrase just so happens to be "subscribe to my youtube channel."

"what?" their third demanded, glancing between the two. "what are you talking about?"

"oh my god. there's no way. there's no way. how - how am i the only one who knows? how am i the only one who suspects?? it's obvious - it's so obvious."

"what's obvious?"

"i know, right? i make it as obvious as possible, and still...still, nobody puts two and two together. well...nobody except for you, apparently. i guess that you're just...special."

"why don't you just come out and say it?" grian mused, propping himself up on his elbows and ignoring the sputtering from their newly acquired third wheel. "i feel like if you said it - either as scar goodman or hotguy - people would have to believe it, no?"

a strange look came over hotguy's face, but it vanished as quickly as it had arrived.

"ah...i don't think that would change anything. plus, i have this thing with this cute guy where he tries to tell everyone my identity and i egg him on to get him to make more silly videos. i would hate to give that up."

he winked, and grian felt warmth climb his cheeks. gone was the fear, gone was the panic, gone was the darkness and the creeping, crawling sense of unease - instead, there was only curiosity, burning brightly in his chest. he wanted to talk to scar - hotguy - for hours, wanted to pull the object of his obsession apart to see what made him tick, then put him back together again, just to see what would happen. he wanted to get to know who hotguy was underneath the suit - and who scar goodman was with the suit. he'd wanted (he'd wanted for so long) and it felt like maybe...just maybe...he'd get to have.

"hey! what the hell is going on?"

"oh, right," hotguy chuckled, turning his attention to the third member of their party. "sorry - didn't mean to ignore you. here - sit tight, for real this time. the police will be here soon."

"dude, i'm just going to leave again. do you really not have handcuffs or something?"

"who needs handcuffs when you have a cub to design fancy gadgets for you?"

"a...a what?" the figure asked, then yelped, startled, as something exploded out of the cuff on hotguy's wrist. a net, affixing itself neatly to their body, wrapping them up in a cocoon of their own folly. grian stared at it, humming in approval.

"nice."

"thank you! it's new."

"i know."

"i bet you do," scar responded, and grian flushed further at the teasing edge his tone took on. "i bet you know almost everything about me, at this point. obsessed, much?"

"i could say the same," grian huffed back, pulling himself to his feet and brushing off his jeans (there was a rip in one leg, now, he noticed with a frown). "you recognized me, like, immediately. it's pretty dark out, too - sounds like you're the one obsessed."

"what can i say - you're pretty and smart. i happen to like my men pretty and smart."

grian sputtered incoherently in response, all confidence gone out the window. oh god - he was even more charismatic in person, even in costume. and god, was the costume more attractive in person, as well - baggy cargo pants and a tight, fitted top that exposed his tanned midriff. not the most tactical, sure - but damn was it hot.

"you can't say that," he moaned, covering his reddened cheeks with his hands. "oh my god. i hate you. i've known you for five minutes and i already hate you."

"sure you do," scar responded, grinning. "i - oh, hold on."

he raised his hand and tapped the earpiece affixed to the side of his head, concentrating. after a moment, he sighed - and for just a second, grian thought that his shoulders drooped in exhaustion. as quickly as they sagged, however, scar was straightening, turning back to grian with an easy smile.

"sorry, handsome, duty calls. are you alright to get back home on your own? i doubt this guy will be giving you any more trouble. those nets are pretty sturdy."

"wait!" grian sputtered, his heart hammering painfully in his chest (no, no, he couldn't let scar slip through his fingers, not now, not when he was finally so close). "don't go - i...can i see you again?"

scar's smile wobbled around the edges, and any panic grian felt was replaced with guilty - heavy and suffocating (though he wasn't sure why)

"ah...isn't it more fun, this way? don't you like the chase? isn't that exhilaration enough for your pretty little head?"

"i mean...it's a fun hobby, yeah, but -,"

"then we'll stick to the status quo. after all, i'd hate to rob you of your favorite hobby. goodnight, grian. can't wait for your next video."

and with a wink, he was gone, disappearing back into the shadows so quickly grian could have sworn he was made of them. and grian...well. he had an apartment to get home to, a cat to feed...and a chase to continue. and maybe, someday, if he was fast enough...he'd catch up.

[varpusvaras]

Talia shouldn't have felt anything for the boy.

She shouldn't have. Perhaps, at the most, she should've felt curiosity and anticipation, nothing more. Curiosity for what the secrets behind the boy's resurrection were, and anticipation for what use he could possibly be to her.

She shouldn't have felt anything more.

But she did. She did when she watched him move, the ways his father had taught him still shining through. She did when she watched him just stand there, black hair and blue eyes so reminiscent of someone else, even if the rest of the features were not there.

She did when he would seek her out, the only kind touch he could find, one that she had not planned on even giving out in the first place.

Perhaps she had become soft, or perhaps it was the familiarity behind it all, that ended up filling out the gaps, making her see things that were not there to begin with. The boy was not her Beloved's blood, not like her Damian was, but-

But he was still her Beloved's son.

She couldn't deny feeling something when her Damian reached out for the boy, not wary or suspicious, like he was towards everyone else from the sheer necessity of it. She watched as Damian closed his hand around the boy's fingers, and she was not able to push the feeling away.

She knew the feeling she felt, when she watched Jason hold onto Damian's hand.

Perhaps this was just what being a mother felt like.

She watched them, and she thought of Jason, alone and in pain, and it was all too easy to think of Damian in his place, at the mercy of the monster that had been allowed to keep its humanity.

The rest came easy, afterwards. She was a mother, after all. It was easy to just push Jason into the same position as Damian when it came to her care, much easier than keeping them separate.

Slicing the monster's throat came even easier.

"Are you content now?" Her Father asked her. "Now that you have taken your...revenge? Preventative measures?"

She would've much rather called it simply mother's love.

She didn't tell her Father that.

"Yes", was the only answer she gave.

And when Jason came to the surface of the Pit, with his eyes green and his hands reaching desperately for her, Talia took them into hers with the same ease.

The words came easy as well.

"Do not fear, my child", she told him. "You have been avenged."

[bluerosefox]

Mama Bat

There was a baby in the Batcave.

There was a baby in the Batcave.

There was a glowing, white haired, Lazarus green eyed baby floating in the freaking Batcave!

A baby that was currently wearing a superhero themed footy pajamas and making tiny circles in the air as they coo and make spit bubbles.

A baby Cass had found while on patrol... in Hong Kong before suddenly and somehow appearing in Gotham. In the Batcave.

Along with them, sitting innocently on the batcomputer chair was a baby bag (themed after Black Bat somehow) full of everything a baby needed a glowing green sticky note with purple handwriting on it.

'Cassandra Cain-Wayne

Take care of our little Ghostling. Everything will make sense in due time.

P.S Daniel enjoys the stars.

-CW'

By the time Bruce finished reading the note aloud, Cass had manged to get a hold of the baby who was making happy noises and patting her cheek.

And a second later a blinding light overtook the baby and once the light was gone, the baby now had black hair and bright blue eyes.

[ex0toxin]

awughhh silly shipchart.. my canonverse hcs 🧠

og post

[catgrandpa]

I started this post with the intention of asking for fic recs where Bruce gets his kids early, but then I ended up just writing some ficlets

_(:3 」∠)_

I still really just want recs I swear but I wrote these anyway and am incapable of doing more with them so here

☆彡

Dick Grayson is 8 years old when he watches his parents die. Bruce is 24 years old when he sees a young boy’s life fall to pieces. He’s far too young to be a single father. But he sees too much of himself in the child, and he knows in his heart that he won’t be able to walk away from him.

He talks to Alfred about his fears of only furthering Dick’s trauma by failing him as a guardian. It takes some time, but Alfred is able to convince Bruce to find a therapist and take some discreet parenting classes. He’s still Batman, and I don’t think he’s capable of Gentle Parenting™ but he does do better. Plus, Dick is young enough to learn to read Bruce before the teenage hormones kick in so they manage to communicate much more effectively with each other.

☆彡

Bruce meets Catherine Todd by chance because there was a cool park Dick wanted to stop at. She’s trying to deal with her hungry and fussy 3 year old step son, but she’s young and stressed out and hungry herself and she just doesn’t know what to do. Bruce offers to take them out for lunch. He asks Dick to take Jason to the play area in the corner while they talk.

She breaks down and tells him of her struggles with addiction. She does her best to keep Jason fed, but it’s so hard. Feeding him means she goes hungry most of the time because she can’t quit using. Jason wouldn’t survive if she had to go through withdrawals with him.

He’s not even her kid! Not really. Her husband is just an abusive deadbeat so she doesn’t have a choice. She does love him, but she never wanted kids, and she can’t just let a child die when she can do something.

Bruce fills their fridge and cabinets to the brim (he offers to do much more for them but that’s all she will budge on. She has too much pride to accept outright charity, but she will do what she can to keep her kid safe) and he makes it clear to her that he is willing to take care of Jason for however long is necessary when she decides to take the first step to get clean.

Two months later, Willis gets arrested and Catherine shows up at Wayne Manor and tells Bruce she signed up for inpatient, but she thinks it would be best for Jason and for herself if Bruce would be willing to take permanent custody. She stays in Jason’s life, just not as a mother figure.

☆彡

A year or so later, Bruce gifts Alfred with a vacation as an early birthday present. Things have been hectic with the sudden acquisition of two sons, and Alfred has done so much, he deserves a break. Bruce promises he’ll be able to handle two kids on his own.

Turns out, he was mostly right, but only just barely. The kids are fine, the manor not so much. He ends up hiring a few services to help out with general housekeeping. A couple of those workers also happen to be regular hires for the Drakes.

Bruce overhears them talking about how sad it is that those awful people treat their toddler more like a doll than a child. He learns that not only do they leave for long periods at a time while not hiring a proper nanny to watch over their son, just expecting the help to take care of him, but they also lock him away on his own whenever it’s ’not fashionable’ to have a 2 year old around.

Alfred comes back to the manor on August 15th, just in time to celebrate his and Master Jason’s birthdays together. He opens the door and dodged around a very excited 4 year old jumping up and down in the entry hall.

“ALFIE! ALFIE! BOOSE GOT ME A BABY BWOTHER FOR MY BIRFDAY! LOOK! LOOK! HIMS NAME IS TIMMY AND HE’S THE BESTEST!”

Alfred leans over to peak behind the boy, and sees a very quiet, very small child standing behind him.

“Oh, dear.”

☆彡

The day Bruce got the call from Talia telling him she was pregnant with his child was one of the best days of Bruce’s life. The day she called to tell him she miscarried was one of the worst.

The only blessing was that he didn’t need to explain it to his kids. Talia was going to move in once she was in her second trimester, and they planned to reveal her pregnancy together.

He got the call two weeks before her flight out. He begged her to come anyway, he loved her, they could still be a family. She refused.

Six and a half months later, he walks into his bedroom to find Talia standing by the window with a squirming bundle in her arms. With equal measures steel and sorrow in her eyes she tells Bruce she is sorry for what she put him through, but it was the only way to keep their son safe. He gathers them both in his arms and holds them tight as she explains.

Her father had planned to raise an heir to be the Demon Head. He would be kept a secret from Batman until the very end. But when Talia gave the final push to birth their son, he came out quiet. She panicked for a moment until her midwife quietly leaned down to listen to the baby’s breathing and then looked up with a soft smile, she bundled up the small thing and handed Talia her baby. Big beautiful green eyes blinked up at her. The midwife leaned closer to Talia and whispered, “Sadly, your son was stillborn. I’m deeply sorry for your loss, but surely The Great Head of the Demon would be willing to allow you some time away from your duties while you recover.” Talia allowed the woman to cover her beautiful cooing baby gently with soft linen and silk and carry him from the room. Later that night she left her home with her son and boarded the first flight to Gotham.

Tears gather on Bruce’s lashes and he tells her everything will be alright because now they can finally be together as a family. Once more, she refuses. She tells him Damian and his boys are far too precious for her to bring the danger of the league of assassins to their door. Bruce closes his eyes in sorrow, but nods his acceptance. He asks her to at least stay the night together. They fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms with their baby boy safely bundled between them. Talia is gone when he wakes.

☆彡

It’s been one week since Talia left and, while still beyond upset, Bruce feels like he’s starting to have a decent handle on things. He is sitting with his boys at the breakfast table, Dick and Jason to his left, Tim to his right, Damian in his arms, and Alfred across from him. They’re finally able to have a relaxing breakfast. No babies crying, no food fights, no arguing, just the sounds of eating and gentle chatter.

He feels a small hand grab his right sleeve and give a gentle tug.

“Boo?” Tim asks, quietly. Bruce feels his heart warm at his son finally feeling like he can speak up without permission.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Why isn’t Big Sister sitting with us?”

Alfred is the only person in the room other than Tim to not startle at the sudden appearance of a 5 year old girl standing next to Bruce at the dining table. He simply sighs, stands up, and grabs another place setting for her at the table.