#tim has been robin (or red robin) for thirty-six years | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alltheshadesofgray · 3 years ago

Text

Talk Twenty-One

Masterlist

User Thirty-One @UserThirtyOne

i can't see Batman or Lady Noire or any of the heroes that joined the rooftop across from mine. it's like they disapeared

Manon Chamack @MChamack ✓ replying to @UserThirtyOne

Yes, that is called magic

Chris Lahiffe @CLahiffe replying to @MChamack

ooh, epic showdown i bet

User Thirty-Two @UserThirtyTwo replying to @CLahiffe

anyone questioning why none of the akuma class is online?

August Beaufort @AugustBeau replying to @UserThirtyTwo

Manon Chamack @MChamack ✓ replying to @AugustBeau

and you reprimand me!

August Beaufort @AugustBeau replying to @MChamack

only because you deserve it :)

the quantic kids ella, etta, chris, august, manon (owner)

chris:

is anybody else concerned?

august:

yes, it's not just you

ella:

alya hasn't posted anything, or talked to us yet

etta:

i still don't understand how we named ourselves the quantic kids

august:

Félix and his school friends gave it to us years ago and manon loves it, so she reign hell on us if we change it

chris:

speaking of, is manon still on twitter?

she is a menace. why is she allowed twitter?

manon:

i am not a menace, chris!

and to answer ur question, don't be concerned

mari has a plan

august:

let's hope she does

IT WAS DEAD SILENT, because beneath the magical armor of Lady Noire stood Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She stood across Batman, in a emerald shield Carapace had created, with watery eyes and fear in her stance.

"This isn't one of my hallucinations, is it?" Tim, as Red Robin, whispered to Robin from the vigilantes' place on the rooftop.

"Tt, that is real," Damian, Robin, said, crossing his arms.

"I think I speak for all of us when I say 'what the fuck'," Dick, Nightwing, said, his mouth gaping in surprise.

"What is even more surprising is that Red Hood was right," Damian said dryly, giving a suspicious glance at the anti-hero. He shrugged nonchalantly.

"What?" Bruce, as Batman, said down below, backing away in uncertainty. "How? When? Is this real?"

The green dome no longer surrounded them.

"Very much so, Batman," Marinette said. "I understand this is a lot. My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, (i kinda imagine marinette saying it like bruce did in jl war ) and for twenty-one years, I was known as Ladybug. After that, I moved to Gotham, and fell in love with a guy. You know the story."

Bruce Wayne never considered himself an expert in love. Hell, practically all of his relationships were with villains or anti-heroes. But, oh how he had gotten it so wrong. Everything he thought he knew about the Paris problem was completely wrong. The answer had been right in front of him the whole time.

"I'm s-sorry, I don't think I can do this," he stammered, backing away even more.

Marinette gave him a sad smile and nodded. "When you're ready, we should talk." He couldn't face her, he could barely breath. Sure, he'd had his suspicions, but his mind was running to fastly to make sense of any of it. He used a smokebomb, though unnecesary, once the smoke cleared, there was no sign of the Bats in the vacinity.

Mister Bug, followed by the Team, leapt down, rushing over to her. "It didn't work, Viperion," Marinette said, refering to the nod he'd given to her earlier. He stayed silent. Was this the plan Bunnyx had in mind? To leave her heartbroken? Hadn't she endured enough?

"Come on, Mari, let's go home."

~~~~

"Why did you bring us here, Constantine?" Superman, Clark Kent, asked angrily. "Bruce needs us!"

"Sorry mate, but there are more powerful forces at play. Time itself. We wouldn't want the timeline to go astray," Constantine said, smirking. "You couldn't be there. It is a fundamental law of time."

"Zero-Three, Wonder Woman, Zero-Six, Aquaman," the computer announced. With all the craziness at the UN and the escape, they hadn't had time to remove them from the designation system.

"You called us?" Wonder Woman asked, her tone cutting the tension like a knife. Though they were a welcome presense in the time of anxiety, they weren't fully forgiven by all members. "What happened?"

"We don't need you anymore," Superman said, shaking his head. "Bruce is handling the Miraculous Team in Gotham. Constantine says we shouldn't interfere or it will do something with the timeline."

A blue portal opened, and out stepped Klarion. He laughed wickedly, as the Justice League were immediately on guard. "No need to be all testy," Klarion said, frowning. He turned to Constantine. "I come bearing gifts from the lovely lady Bunnyx." He snapped, and a paper appeared in Constantine's hand. "Toodaloo!"

Klarion snapped his fingers and dissapeared in a flash of red.

Constantine opened the paper, and read what it said. In two days time, you and Zatanna should talk to Batman. "Well, a freelancer's job is never done," Constantine said, holding out his palm to create a star portal. "I need to go. Whatever you do, do not go to Gotham. It will make sense in due time."

BRUCE WAYNE DIDN'T KNOW what to make of the situation. His own girlfriend was a hero. Why would she betray them without a reason. There was no way Ladybug would betray her team for the very villain they fought. And if Ladybug cleared Félix and Adrien, than he was really at square zero for his investigation.

Maybe he was okay with being nowhere in the investigation.

But Marinette being Ladybug/Lady Noire? He didn't know what to think. He was confused. Bruce Wayne was not a man who was good at figuring out his feelings. And this situation was certainly not helping.

Now that he reflected, Marinette had every right to keep her identity a secret. But the illogical part of him, the part where he needed to know everything, screamed 'why hadn't Marinette told him?'

Did Bruce really want answers? For the first time in Bruce Wayne's life, he didn't know what he wanted.

~~~~

"What are your opinions about what happened the other day?" Dick asked the gathered Bats who'd been at the reveal. Among them were Jason, Tim, Damian, Stephanie, Babs, Cass, and Duke.

"Jason already knew about her, somehow," Damian grumbled, arms crossed.

"That was a pretty badass way to do an identity reveal," Steph commented.

Cass nodded in agreement. I believe Bruce needs to get his head out of his ass, Cass signed to the group gathered in the Batcave. Marinette may have a questionable bloodline, but so do half of us, and she's a hero. Ladybug.

"I don't even know why you guys were trying to prove Marinette was a villain," Jason said. "As I told you, no villain would have a panic attack over a butterfly. Nathalie Sancoer is in prison. Gabriel Agreste is dead. Marinette was Ladybug. Chat Noir was ____" Jason attempted to say his name, but green bubbles floated out of his mouth.

"Chat Noir didn't reveal his identity," Tim said drowsily, looking up from his computer. "How do you know his identity?"

Damian scowled. "Todd's been keeping secrets from us. Why is this one any different," Damian said, glaring at Jason.

"Magic must protect Chat Noir's identity, just like it did Marinette," Babs reasoned. "But if magic protects their identity, it doesn't tell us how you were able to figure it out."

"Remember how Marinette was able to sense the Lazarus Pits? And Kanté mentioned that the Pits were made by the Miraculous. He also mentioned that the League were the Miraculous Team's enemy, but that's not relevant," Jason said. "So my theory, is because the Pits were made by the Miraculous, and Marinette was able to sense the Lazarus 'energy'. It works both ways, I was submerged in the Lazarus Pits, thus the magic that protects the Miraculous Users don't effect me and I could figure out all their identities if I wanted to."

"That's actually quite thought out, Todd," Damian admitted begrudgingly.

"If that theory is correct, then what about any other person who's used the Lazarus Pits? That means plenty of villains have the potential to figure out the identities of some of the most powerful heroes," Babs pointed out. "Namely, Ra's."

"Ra's did kidnap Marinette," Duke added.

If Ra's knew Marinette was Ladybug or the Guardian, Marinette would be in a lot more danger, and she would have already gotten kidnapped again. Thus, Ra's knows nothing of Marinette's identity. Only that she's the daughter of the Morrigan, Cass signed.

"We should be careful nonetheless," Dick said.

"What do you think Bruce will do?" Duke asked.

"That's a good question," Babs said. "One that we couldn't tell you. God knows what Bruce will do. If you couldn't tell, Bruce does not have the best track record with dating anyone in the same lifestyle we are in."

"You can say that again," Jason snorted.

JOHN CONSTANTINE MADE A habit of purposely not going into Gotham, much less Wayne Manor, if he could avoid it. Of course, he'd been in Gotham before, but the place gave nothing but dark energy, and Wayne Manor was drowning in ghosts. Actually, Thomas and Martha Wayne were quite nice and honest, but Bruce Wayne's ancestor's were questionable. Rich and elite were always questionable.

As per Bunnyx's instructions, though Zatanna was thourougly against listening to the Lord of Chaos, though Klarion seemed quite taken with helping Bunnyx. Constantine definately understood Zatanna's hesitation.

"Heya, Bats," Constantine said, grinning devishly. Sometimes, he loved breaking Bruce Wayne's no magic rule. It pissed the guy off to no end, but right now, Bruce didn't seem to care. The guy did not know how to face his emotions. Constantine felt for him.

"Batsy," Constantine said, sing-songingly.

"Go away," Bruce muttered. It was probably the most unrefined speech that he'd heard Bruce Wayne use. Which was concerning for the normally put together vigilante.

"Brucie, I can't let you drown in your sorrows. Honestly, you need to get your head out of your ass," Constantine said.

"How was I so blind as to not realize my own girlfriend was a superhero?" Bruce asked.

"Magic, dumbass. There's this lovely thing called magic," Constantine deadpanned, feeling like Bruce had been asking himself that plenty of times. "If just anybody was able to figure out her identity then there would be a lot more at stake than you having a mid-life crisis about your girlfriend being a hero."

Bruce glared at that. "Why are you here Constantine?" Bruce inquired.

"To exorcise the demons at Wayne Manor," Constantine said dryly.

Bruce's eyes narrowed.

"You do have a ghost infestation, Brucie, but that's not why I'm here," Constantine said, shrugging. "Look, Bruce, I respect you, and your hero career. But you really do need to get your shit together and talk to Marinette. If you let her go, you risk loosing her forever."

~~~~

Bruce took a deep breath. Constantine had done a locator spell, and forcefully teleported him to the area where Marinette was, though Bruce knew he was probably going to be thanking the mage one day. Thankfully, Constantine had some heart, and didn't shove him face to face with Marinette.

This was the Le Grand Paris Hotel, a famous Hotel known for housing celebrities, he realized. He quickly had deduced that Marinette would be at Chloé Bourgeois' room, if Constantine had correcly used his locator spell. So he made the long trudge up, heart thumping loudly.

He knocked on the door, and the door widened a fraction, Bruce facing Kagami Tsurgi, otherwise known as Ryuko. Next to the fencer was Chloé Bourgeois, the hotel heiress herself. "You know if Mari wasn't so smitten with you, you'd be long gone. And by gone I mean-"

"Chloé, we've talked about your murderous tendencies," a voice called out, belonging to a male.

"Shut up, Xavier," Chloé said, still glaring at him.

"Murder is not the answer," the male, who Bruce assumed to be 'Xavier', said. "Nor is it the question."

Chloé rolled her eyes, and widened the door. "You're lucky Xavier doesn't support murder."

"I do support it, when it comes to an idiot dating Mari, but not when Mari loves the idiot," Xavier called out. Love? Marinette loved him? The words were ringing through his head.

Kagami's eyes were narrowed into slits, so narrow that Bruce wasn't even sure that she could see out her eyes. "Men are stupid," Kagami said, following Chloé.

"Says the woman who's dating the most oblivious idiot ever," Chloé fired back, laughing. "Come on lover boy," she said to Bruce. Bruce entered the suite, looking around. A whole crowd of people were scattered, and Bruce had never felt so unwelcome in his life.

"Adrien Agreste!" the familiar voice of Marinette shouted through another door. "WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU LET THE KWAMIS IN THE KITCHEN?!" The short, but very fierce, woman stormed through, green sparks flying. Bruce assumed that it was some sort of magical energy from the Miraculous.

A black thing flew behind her, laughing it's head off. Luka Couffaine chuckled from the corner, strumming a guitar.

"Mari, your boytoy has finally decided to grace us with his presense," Chloé said flatly, flopping on the couch, and throwing her legs over a blonde man.

"This is not over, Adrien," Marinette said, glaring at the ex-model. She turned to face Bruce, an unreadable expression crossing her face.

"Hi, Marinette," Bruce said, trying not to sound sheepish. He was definately not in his element.

~~~~

Marinette stared at Bruce for a solid minute, the only noise in the room was Luka's guitar. Adrien seemed ready to transform, and figure out a way to destroy Bruce with the Creation Miraculous. Chloé was glaring at the billionaire, giving Marinette a look that implied that she should dump him.

"Hello, Bruce," Marinette said, softer than she intended. "I assume you're here for answers?"

"I would be lying if I said I didn't have questions," Bruce admitted. "But I know I fucked up. I don't deserve answers. Only what you want to tell me, if you even want to talk to me."

Marinette had been considering what she would say, if Bruce came to her. But preparing herself for her whole speech did not prepare her for this moment. "My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I was Ladybug. I now wear the Miraculous of the Black Cat. And I'm in love with Bruce Wayne."

She'd tell him her story eventually. It was enough for her, it was up to him to decide if it was good enough for him.

fuck up and we kill you (aka our favorite shovel talk group chat)

félix, kagami, chloé, adrien, alya, and bruce

chloé:

i had deleted this chat thinking i wouldn't need it anymore

because mari should have dumped ur sorry ass

félix:

why did nobody try to talk sense into her

i would have if i was there

but NOBODY though to talk her out of it?

kagami:

we do realize this is the chat with the aforemented person

alya:

do we care?

no we dont

chloé:

why does mari have such a big heart?

cause now we have to deal with the ass who broke her heart

adrien:

you do realize if mari didn't have a big heart, none of you guys would currently be friends with her

bruce is typing...

chloé:

don't say your defending him?!

adrien:

in no way

i will personally contact chat noir

the only reason bruce wayne is not dust is because of mari

he should be thanking his lucky stars

bruce in irl:

#maribat #cross posted on ao3 #marinette dupain cheng #bruce wayne #the batkids #bruce is paranoid #dick grayson #tim drake #jason todd #damian wayne #mlb characters #dc characters #social media au

4 notes · View notes

elareine · 4 years ago

Note

I know I already gave you one, but I just thought of this now, if you could, or ignore it, either one is fine, can you please write Nurse or Doctor Tim with JayTim or DickTim, or both go crazy with it, if you want. And Tim being so exasperated with them because they keep giving him the lamest excuses for their injuries, because they don't know he knows or they suspect he knows but both sides are trying to see who will mention it first. So its like a big competition of who will break first.

So the competition aspect got lost a bit? I hope you still enjoy it :)

Warning: Some dark jokes about domestic violence, mostly borne out of my experience when I actually fell down the stairs. Also I blatantly did not care about the actual medical issues in this.

“You fell down the stairs.”

Usually, when Tim had to repeat these words to someone, he said them gently: telegraphing his disbelief as well as his willingness to keep up appearances as long as the victim needed to. With kids, he was a bit more direct, though only after separating them from the parent. He never spoke this sarcastically; that would be uncalled for.

(Also, contrary to popular belief, some people actually did fall down the stairs.)

Today? Today his words were dripping with sarcasm.

The man—‘Richard Grayson’ according to his file, ‘Dick’ according to his introduction, ‘Gotham’s most handsome bachelor’ according to the gossip mags—rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I… maybe it was more, like. The roof?”

“Did the roof use a whip, by any chance?” Tim asked, examining the welts. “What did you do to piss off Catwoman?”

“Not—Nothing, because I fell down the stairs.”

“The roof.”

“The stairs on the roof.”

Tim sighed. “Alright. We’re gonna need an x-ray because I suspect your muscle has been cut through. Please report to room three, and the nurse will take care of it.”

“Sure thing, doc!”

—

When Tim had been inspired by Thomas Wayne to become a doctor, this hadn’t been what he envisioned.

Cure the sick? Sure. Fix bones and other injuries? As an orthopedic specialist: every day. Look at every injury Dick Grayson acquired during his totally-legal activities? Nope. What the fuck.

The explanations became increasingly stupider, too, which was hard to believe seeing how they started with a chart-topper like ‘I fell down the stairs/roof and it happened to look like a belt from a whip.’

Tim had resolved early on that he wouldn’t ask. His patience for Dick’s weak-ass excuses was close to zero, sure, but it was safer to keep away. This was a professional medical praxis that cared for everyone, no matter their allegiance. Tim didn’t even know which vigilante was sitting in front of him.

…oh, who was he kidding. This was Nightwing. None of the other vigilantes in Gotham was that chipper.

(Also, that ass.)

Fine. Tim could deal with that. He might’ve even privately fangirled over the fact that he got to patch up Nightwing (the first Robin!) on a regular basis. Also, Dick was ridiculously charming; Tim didn’t mind spending time with him. It was a nice break in the middle of a hectic day.

Except then Dick started bringing his brother/boyfriend along.

(Yeah, Tim felt as weird about that ‘/‘ as you do. But they were holding hands, so…)

He took one look at Jason Todd and asked drily: “So, seen any good zombie movies lately?”

Dick choked on air. Jason just grinned through the bloody mess he’d made of his mouth and asked: “Do I look that bad?”

“Worse.” Tim sighed and started examining the mess closer, carefully pressing along the lines of the other man’s jaw. “Let me guess, you’re also into parkour?”

“Among other things.”

“Hmm. Yeah, nothing broken, I think, but we’ll double-check. If not, ice, painkillers, and no ‘rooftop parkour’ for a while, alright?” He paused. Honestly, judging by Jason’s stature (too wide for most vigilantes) and age (too young to be Batman)… “I’d tell you to wear a helmet, but apparently, even that’s not helping.”

Jason turned to Dick, grinning widely. “I can see why you like him.”

Tim had no idea what to think about that, so he didn’t.

—

It was supposed to be a quiet afternoon. Every Wednesday, Tim would close his practice at 2 p.m. and spend the rest of the day doing paperwork. A cup of tea and the tv in the background

Except then the news started, and Tim heard the phrases “Nightwing and Red Hood,” “magician,” and “explosion.”

Then, the footage—obviously taking from mobile phone recordings—began playing. He watched for three minutes, panic spreading through him. Nightwing limp on the ground. Red Hood, literally thrown through a wall. He knew that these men were terrifyingly well trained, that Red Hood must’ve had some beta modifications at some point in his life with the injuries he took in stride—

But on camera, they weren’t moving.

According to the timestamp, the footage had been taken thirty minutes ago.

“Clean-up has begun,” the reporter on the screen said. “There is no sign of the two vigilantes who have defended our community center to the last—“

Tim grabbed his things and ran.

Tam, his assistant, looked up in alarm as he entered the waiting area. “Tim?”

“I need to go,” Tim told her, not stopping. “It’s an emergency.”

And because Tam was the best, she simply called after him: “Call me if you need help! I’ll take care of the practice.”

Tim knew Dick’s home address, had memorized it just in case—just in case. That’s where Tim drove now. If they weren’t there, he would try Wayne Manor next, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

But when he pressed the doorbell at the apartment labeled ‘Grayson,’ he was immediately buzzed in.

Jason was the one who let him in and led him to the living room, where Dick half-sat, half laid on a couch.

Tim asked: “Okay. What hurts the most?”

“His head,” Jason replied, and Dick glared: “I’m told you I’m fine, Jay—“

Tim walked over. Swelling, definitely, and something about that shoulder…

“I popped that back in,” Jason explained. “But I think there’s something wrong with his neck.”

Yeah, there really was. Tim recognized the beginning of some deep bruising—strangulation, his mind supplied, that magician had tried to choke Dick out—and the back of Dick’s head felt tender and hot.

“I don’t suppose I can interest you in an x-ray?” he asked.

Disagreement all around. Fine. Tim would write them prescriptions for braces, if they didn’t have them lying around in a corner, anyway. Unless something felt like it was broken or shifted out of place or actually torn. You didn’t mess around with that.

Jason had sat down next to Dick, and Tim moved on seamlessly to checking him. Jason’s ribs were definitely not okay, but probably hadn’t punctured his lung or anything, or he wouldn’t be sitting here. Apart from that, he was one massive bruise and a fucked-up hit. No running for Red Hood for at least a week. (Six weeks for normal humans. Tim was used to the calculation by now.) Oh, and something had crushed his foot—“the building falling on me,” Jason very helpfully informed him—and they had both suffered fourth- and third-degree burns.

Tim began dressing the wounds in silence. His hands were shaking. Why were they shaking, dammit. He was a fucking doctor. His hands were the steadiest thing about him.

It felt like hours passed before he was done.

“You need to stay awake.” His tone was too sharp; he could do nothing to soften it. “With a blast like that, concussions are a given. Is there anyone we could call to stay up with you?”

Dick nodded, then winced. Yeah, he should avoid that movement for a while. “Yes, we could—“

“No.” Jason shook his head.

“No?” Dick looked at him. Something must’ve been telegraphed in Jason’s eyes because Dick continued: “Oh, I mean, no. I’m afraid there isn’t.”

“We’re all alone.”

“Totally.”

Tim sighed. “Don’t you have, like, fifteen siblings and a butler? I should just call Wayne Manor; I’m sure that number is on Google or something—“

“Tim,” Dick said very gently. His hand went up to grasp Tim’s. “Stay with us?”

Tim blinked. “That’s. Really unprofessional.” He didn’t pull his hands away, though.

“You’re in our living room.” Jason shifted—it looked painful—and continued: “Pretty sure nothing about this is professional, so…”

“Please?” Dick asked.

Tim inhaled deeply and shook his head. “You two are so—stupid.” They flinched. “Like, what’re you doing, getting injured like that every week? You’re going to get yourself killed, and then I will have to come up with an explanation and it’s gonna be better than any you ever came up with. You’re gonna be so bad for my blood pressure.”

Dick looked crestfallen, but Jason was starting to grin: “So, you’re staying, then?”

“Duh.”

(I’m taking prompts until the end of the year.)

#elareine writes #jaydicktim

141 notes · View notes

hasegawasosise · 5 years ago

Text

In Numbers We Trust

Summary:

Prompt master: @outoftheframework

I like the concept of each of the kids having a number or having a thing where they count off. Not in a demeaning or dehumanizing way at all, just more so to use in dangerous situations. For example, a bomb goes off on patrol, and to quickly see if everyone is okay, the kids (including Steph and Babs) automatically start counting one at a time. Bruce can breathe again once the count reaches eight. This tradition begins to carry over to civilian life when the kids yell numbers across a crowded gala after the power goes out.

Beta Agenthandler

Bruce never planned on starting a family. He made a vow to live for justice. He would be the force Gotham needed. He would be the forever bachelor. Justice was his Lady Love.

But 90% of life’s plan was just that—a plan. Bruce would never have guessed he'd end up taking in a boy who called himself Dick Grayson. Technically his ward, but Bruce suffered a mid-life crisis every day from thereon, wondering whether it was the right choice for him to adopt a kid—or why anyone sane would let Bruce Wayne adopt any kid in the first place. It was a testament to Dick’s own awesomeness that he grew up to be a mostly functional adult—Bruce definitely wasn’t.

After Dick, he recruited an amazing girl named Barbara Gordon as another sidekick. She was not officially his adopted daughter, but by day two of working together Bruce registered her in his little hind brain as “my kid.”

Then another. Jason Todd not only stole the Batmobile’s tires but also Batman’s heart. The little boy taught Bruce more about street-smarts and how to be a better person right until his death. His realized depth of parental love made him wonder why he ever adopted anyone in the first place—and ended up losing them that way.

After what he thought was the last, another one came into his life without invitation. Timothy Drake was a genius detective. Out of his first four—yes, Bruce could still count—Tim was the most similar to Bruce. They had the same kind of upbringing amidst the Gotham Elite, they were both highly focused and detail oriented individuals. Tim was even smarter than Bruce, and he was the sole reason Bruce could continue functioning after Jason’s death. Tim was also the only one to believe he was still alive and brought Bruce back from when he was lost in time.

After Time was Stephanie Brown. A cheerful ray of sunshine that had her own worries, but could function the best out of all his children. She had the kind of light sarcastic humor to brighten up Bruce’s darker days. He gained a third daughter, Cassandra Cain, the most accomplished amongst his children in terms of stealth and combat, also his one darling princess.

Then Bruce was introduced to his—one and only—blood son, a little baby assassin who had the unfortunate tendency to stab first ask later. By this time, Bruce had a better handle on raising children highly susceptible to raising hell and violence (read: still an incompetent parent, but he knew how to tune out their nagging) and had no choice but to assign Dick with Damian’s education on humanities and socialization.

He also had Helena, Terry, Matt, Duke, and Harper.

Bruce lost count.

It was the ultimate testament to Bruce’s parenting skill. He sometimes couldn’t remember how many kids he had. He could lose them in a Walmart and forget he was missing one. But thankfully, he had a secret weapon.

Since Jason, he assigned them all numbers. Dick was one, Barbara was two, Jason three, Timothy four, Stephanie five, Cass six, Damian seven—although he always said he was the first—Duke was eight, Harper nine, Terry ten, Matt eleven, and little Helena was twelve.

Imagine that. Bruce had twelve kids. What was his vow again? Lady Love Justice? Don’t know her.

It became sort of a tradition. When the kids entered the Wayne manor, each of them wrote their number on the info board down in the changing room. They were also listed on a desktop note of the BatComputer. It became a ritual in which the last child would add their newest sibling into the list, so they knew who the next number was supposed to be, and that next child would be who they were responsible for. Well, except Dick who accepted all of them as his baby chicks. The number also became a little part of their identity—each of them would put their numbers on everything they owned from their doors to their batarangs to the containers in the fridge.

Bruce, most importantly, used the numbering system to check in on them. It started when Penguin detonated a bank and his robins were scattered fighting all the hundred thugs Penguin hired to keep Batman busy. The blast stopped the fight and Bruce’s heart dropped when he realized his coms were damaged and he immediately couldn’t keep sight of them. He immediately tried to think what he could do, and when he did, he shouted at the top of his lungs.

“KID COUNT!”

“One!” Nightwing shouted from the top of the next building. Apparently he flew off the bank’s roof when he realised it was going to burst.

Oracle was two but he knew she was safe in the clock tower.

“Three,” Red Hood drawled. Bruce wondered why he joined in, but was thankful nonetheless.

“Four,” Red Robin shouted from the opposite direction, because he was the sensible one who directed the civilians and police to safety.

“Five!” Spoiler laughed and flew to his side. “That was a doozy!”

“Six,” Black Bat said as she appeared beside Spoiler where they shared a hi-five.

“Seven,” Robin pulled out his swords from a thug’s leg. “Father, I need to clean my sword immediately.”

“No stabbing, please.” “Too late.” Bruce groaned.

“...Eight?” Signal. He was still new to the numbering system.

Batman let go a deep relieved sigh.

The police and civilians who were fortunate to witness the scene, collectively said ‘Oh’. It became a trending twitter before Tim deleted the topic as much as he could.

********

The counting continued though. Citizens who have lots of children (such as parents, teachers, sometimes even the Police teams), realised it was a quick method to ensure update of their progeny/students/teams condition. So they The counting became sort of a Gotham Trend and eventually enlisted into Gotham’s Emergency SOP. Imagine that, having too many kids to count gave birth to a crucial disaster first-aid first responder procedure.

In all actually, maybe that was one of the top major contributions Batman has given to his city.

********

The kids themselves slowly embraced the importance and fun of the numbers. It created a sort of camaraderie-- even when the numbers didn’t correlate with their height. It used to be a nice isoquant curve when they stood side by side. But after Jason’s growth spurt and Tim naught growth spurt, Steph finding high heels and Cass love for Anti-flood Boots, the nice isoquant curve just became a jagged line not unlike a heartbeat rate.

That aside, the numbering also slowly bled into their civilian lives:

All of them counted before they entered the GothMart -- Alfred was there too, and suddenly Bruce became number 0. He was there to help Alfred because herding the kids was a massive job.

Dick was back for the weekend to spend time with his “babies” and refused to stay at home, because he wanted to sneak in his grocery list (gummy bears and cereals) into Bruce’s list so he could bring it back to Bludhaven and not spend a dime on it.

Jason was there because Alfred asked him for help--he was the only one out of the brood with cooking talent and generally all responsible in the kitchen, i.e. Alfred could trust Jason to use his kitchen without blowing it up (shoutout to Tim and Duke who blew the kitchen for the fifth time this year).

Barbara stayed at home, watching over their base, but she was ready with her surveillance just in case they lost one of the broods.

Tim was half dragged, because he had spent the last 30 hours awake doing Bruce-knew-what, and only agreed to be dragged with the promise of sweet, abominable GothMart coffee with pink glitter (a cheap imitation of Starbucks, really) because Tim was fabulous especially after thirty hours of no sleep. And the surprisingly awesome coffee was a dollar--what kind of frugal millionaire didn’t appreciate a dollar of drinkable coffee?

Steph was the one who dragged Tim, with the help of Cass who just returned from Hong Kong for the weekend. Steph wanted to buy some new bras for Cass, something cool and sexy she could enjoy immensely. Bruce was not privy in this knowledge.

Damian was there to ensure his embarrassment of siblings didn’t kill themselves or humiliate the family. Wayne was his legacy afterall, and all of them reflected on his legacy, whether he liked it or not. Duke, the only one whom he could tolerate outside Cassandra (Grayson was mother) just poked his cheek and grinned. Duke might be tolerable, but it didn’t mean Damian didn’t want to stab him sometimes (Drake, on the other hand, looked like a nice pincushion to stab his sword into).

They counted 0 to 8 before they entered, orchestrated by Alfred.

When they were ready for the checkout, 4, 5, and 6 were missing. Bruce finally found them at the children section, where Tim was busy defending his virginity from a Superboy Plushie, while Steph convulsed with laughter on the floor and Cass video-ed the entire thing.

Bruce refused to buy the cereals (Dick) / sexy lingerie (nope, nope, nope) / kitchen knife collection in black (Damian, as they didn’t need another stabby collection). But Bruce ended up buying the superboy plushie because it had been tainted (the store manager glared at him the whole check out time). At least Tim looked ashamed enough when he was handed the superboy plushie.

The gala was in full swing, full of important people and not-so important moochies. Bruce was entertaining a group of usual donors (important and fun people!) while he saw Tim seriously discussing the stock exchange trends with several old, serious men. Dick was charming the usual group of ladies and young men, while Cass seemed to be hiding behind the potted plan.

Then, just like usual in Gotham, the lights went off. The room suddenly became dark and people started to scream.

“KID COUNT!” Bruce shouted. “Zero,” he added because of habit.

“One!” “Three!” “Four!” “Five and Six!” “Seven.” “Eight” “Nine.”

Wait, did he bring Harper with him? Harper was allergic to this kind of gala--and that was why he never fully adopted her into his Wayne name.

Oh well. The more number he got, the better.

Justice Lady love who?

#bat family #batman #bruce being a good dad #bruce is a bad dad #bruce is a bat dad #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #timothy drake #damian wayne #cass Wayne #harper #barbara gordon #prompt by @outoftheframework #prompt fill #numbering system #Alfred is the leader #bruce is one of the kids too

120 notes · View notes

afni-fics · 4 years ago

Text

Red Robin: In Hindsight 02

(Previous)

(Note: changing last name of Janet's family from Grey to Efron... Had a flash of insight that I didn't like how there were potentially Grey and Grayson families in this verse linked to the bat family. So now Tim's maternal family name is Efron.)

---

Fifteen years earlier...

"Why don't you leave him?"

"I still love him."

"He threw a brandy glass at you!"

"It was an... accident."

"Timber has six stitches on the sole of his foot and a bottle of prescription pain meds that don't care if it was an 'accident'!"

Though Susan and Janet were trying very hard to stay quiet as they whispered to each other outside the closed door to Timothy's bedroom in Susan's home, the elder Efron matriarch struggled to control her volume as the conversation persisted. Recognizing this, she took a step away from her daughter to recompose herself.

Then she motioned for the stairs.

As she led her only daughter into the kitchen, they both heard the old grandfather clock chime the midnight hour. They had only just gotten home from Gotham Children's Hospital thirty minutes prior.

"Janie," Susan started as she started filling a teapot with water. "This can't keep happening." After setting the pot on the stove, she finally looked at her daughter. "This is the third visit to the ER for him in six months."

Janet Efron-Drake sat at the breakfast table with her face buried in her hands. "I know."

"Someone's going to report this to CPS if it happens again, if they haven't already tonight!"

"I know!" Janet snapped, though the sob in her tone cut any heat that might have initially been behind the words. She bowed her head. "I know," she murmured sadly.

Susan studied her daughter. "You say you can't leave him because you 'love' him, but I know you Janie. What's the real reason you won't leave him?"

Janet shook her head before burying her face in her hands with a sob. "He won't give me a get. He won't let me divorce him, and he threatened to fight for full custody of Tim if I force a hearing before the rabbinical court."

As the tea kettle started whistling and Janet cried into her hands, Susan cursed venomously the name of her monsterous son-in-law. How DARE he use her daughter's beloved faith as a weapon to abuse her!

As she turned off the stove, Susan's mind was working quickly. A solution formed, though it was not an ideal one. She couldn't rescue her agunot daughter, but perhaps...

"Janie. I know you are chained to Jack, but would he care if you left Timothy for me to raise?" Susan looked at Janet with grim resolve as her daughter raised her head.

Though her initial expression was stricken, slowly it smoothed over into a stoic resignation. She wiped the tears from her eyes. "I can convince him. It won't be hard." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Timber deserves to grow up safe and free and-" Tears whelled up in Janet's eyes again. "-and in a house full of love."

Susan set a teacup in from of her daughter, then bent close to hug her tightly as they both cried together.

#janet drake #Tim drake #red robin #fanfiction #batfamily #jack drake #tw: abuse (reference)#rr: in hindsight

10 notes · View notes

hateswifi · 5 years ago

Text

Rising from the Ashes: Of Nicknames and Luck

So this is Part Five here is to my Master List and Part Four. Enjoy!! I just felt like... hey why not post two today? So that’s what I did, I hope you enjoy these shenanigans.

---------------------------------

Back with Marinette now in her hotel room, she decides to unpack a bit and look for an apartment offer online using the hand-me-down laptop Chloe had given her.

After about an hour, she decides to take a break from apartment hunting and go to the grocery store even though she couldn’t exactly cook anything from her hotel room. She could at least make some good sandwiches.

When she got to the grocery store and after she had collected everything she needed which included: bread, peanut butter, jelly, chicken, lettuce, tomato, and some chips she hadn’t heard of before. The cashier looked her up and down then asked. “Are you the Ice Prince's girlfriend?”

“I’m no one's girlfriend. You must be confusing me with someone else,” she said as she paid then left. On her walk home she heard a bing: someone said they would meet with her about renting an apartment. The person was the manager of a building owned by Wayne Enterprises. They said she would like to meet Marinette at one o'clock: two hours from now. She decided on a salad for lunch because she had something so sugary for breakfast. She still wanted to keep a somewhat healthy diet.

She sits down and decides to check out what Diana recommended last night. She Googles ‘Gotham's Heroes' results immediately came up with Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and lastly a traffic light looking boy named, Robin. Seriously, who designed that outfit? If she ever met him she would have some words with him. She sighed while checking the time: twelve-thirty. She grabbed her stuff and left quickly.

“Hello my name is Marinette, I’m here to talk with,” she pauses, looking at her phone. “a Ms. Simms.”

“I’ll call her,” the receptionist said reaching then dialing on the phone. “Hello, Ms. Simms your one o’clock is here, Miss Marinette? Of course.” She hangs up then stands. “Please follow me.” They walk quietly into an office. She knocks on the door.

“Enter,” a voice says from inside. “Hello, Marinette. My name is Sarah Simms. Please come take a seat.”

“So I recently moved here and need an apartment. I already have a way to pay for it, I got a job on Monday,” Marinette said, sitting across from Sarah.

“Well want to visit the apartment?” Sarah asked, standing.

“That would be lovely,” Marinette says, following.

“So the last tenant left their stuff here which includes a fridge-freezer combo, a table, a couple of chairs, a couch, and two beds, one queen and one twin. They also left a smaller television,” she finishes, opening the door. The apartment was on the third floor with a decent view. “The rent would be six hundred a month and you would need to sign a year contract with a down payment of a hundred today.”

“This sounds almost too good to be true!” Marinette smiles after she finishes looking around the apartment she says. “Where can I sign?”

“Let’s head to my office and I’ll print the papers,” Sarah said, smiling as they left the apartment.

After the papers were signed and money was paid, Marinette left for the hotel grabbed her stuff and checked out. She smiles for the first time in quite a while she was happy and proud of herself.

She heard ringing as she dropped her stuff: it was Chloe. She immediately picked up. “Hey, Mar, how’s the second day of your new life,” Chloe asked, her voice crackling over the line a bit.

“It has been pretty good. I got up early and went to a park close to the hotel I was staying at. This dog tackled me and the dog’s owner felt bad, so he took me to breakfast. His name is Damian, I really hope to see him again… crap he ran off before I could get his number,” she pauses falling on the couch.

“Sounds like someone has a crush?” Chloe asks, Marinette can hear Chloe’s smirk through the phone.

“I only met him once. After that, I went grocery shopping. Also, I got an apartment! Most of it is already furnished all I have to buy some basic things like pots, pans, plates, utensils, towels, and you know little things like that,” Marinette explained.

“That’s great Mar. I’m so happy for you!” Chloe said.

“How was your day going?” Marinette asked.

“I miss you a lot and life is quite boring without you. Lila was talking crap about you again,” Chloe answered.

“I don’t even care at this point, as long as we know the truth. She doesn’t affect me anymore,” Marinette explained.

“I know it just makes me angry knowing that her lies are so terrible,” Chloe sighed.

“I know I’m sorry I’m not there, but I couldn’t stay in Paris. There is too much trauma and no family left for me,” Marinette explained.

“Marinette I’m family. Luka, Adrien, and Kagami. We’re all your family! We all love and miss you!” Chloe exclaimed angrily, then hung up.

Marinette sighed and plopped on the couch then turned on the small tv that was just across from her. It was some celebrity news so she changed it and watched an English cartoon instead as she checked her Twitter feed, which is still based on Paris. Chat had given the announcement of her leaving Paris, along with an announcement of no longer endorsing the Ladyblog after a post of Lila being love rivals with Ryuko for Viperon. Chat also announced that the rest of the team would continue with patrols.

She hung out for the rest of the day making a list of things she needs to get. She would go to buy things after work tomorrow. She made herself a chicken, lettuce, and tomato sandwich. She then went to bed early so she could be on time for work which starts at seven.

When she woke up to her blaring alarm at six-twenty she put on a pink long-sleeved sweater, which she tucked into a black high waisted shirt with a belt. She paired her outfit with kitty black heels. She also put her hair up in princess bun.

She rushed to work and arrived on time. She greets Diana and put her purse in the back.

“Marinette in a little bit there will higher class customers in need of suits. I would appreciate it if you would measure them. They are as I said celebrities and like their privacy, please respect that,” Diana explains. Not long after Diana finished speaking a group of people walked in four of them to be exact.

“Welcome, Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim. Damian is not with you?” Diana asks as they entered the store.

“No, he had a class this morning,” Bruce informed Diana of the changed plans.

“But it is to my understanding that he also needed a suit,” Daina states.

“That is true, I was wondering if I could call in a favor,” he asks.

“Well, I can’t because I’m leaving to visit my family, but I’m sure I could ask my new employee, Marinette, to go take his measurements,” Diana said, looking for Marinette.

“I’m right here, Diana,” she says, exiting the back room. “I was grabbing the measuring tape, a notebook, and a pencil.”

“Oh my god! You’re Demon Spawn’s girlfriend!” Dick yells, running up to her.

“I’m no one's girlfriend,” Marinette says back then mutters in Mandarin. “Why does everyone keep asking that.”

Jason hears what she says and responds in Mandarin. “Because people saw you out--”. Dick elbowed him before he could finish not wanting to blow Damian’s secret. “We mistook you for someone else.”

“What was that for!” Jason exclaims.

“I’ll tell you later,” Dick mutters.

“Ok so now that's over, please take the boys to the back to take their measurements,” Diana said, pointing the boys to follow her. In the back, Dick stood on a platform so Marinette could measure him.

“So Marinette,” Dick started being cut off.

“I am pretty sure Diana didn’t say my name. How do you know me?” Marinette paused her measuring of Dick. “Would you be able to step down? I have to measure your shoulder blades.”

“I heard Diana say it,” Dick says as he stepped down. He felt her feather-light touch dance across his back as she measured him. She then stepped in front of him measuring his chest then arms.

“How old are you and how long have you been working here?” Tim asks, staring at the petite girl while she works.

“Ummm… today is my first day working here, but I am experienced in the fashion world. I don't want to talk about my past work because this is my new beginning and I turned eighteen about two months ago,” Marinette said, measuring her legs.

“We’re all about new beginnings, that's why Bruce adopted us,” Jason chimed in.

“They’re not pretentious like how I thought Americans would act,” Marinette mutters in French.

“Thanks, but we’re not like most Americans,” Dick responds, looking down at the now flustered girl.

“I’m sorry to assume. In Paris, most Americans are shown as fools or snobs. I’ve only met a couple before today. How many languages do you all speak?” Marinette asked, working faster while keeping her head down.

“We all speak, English, French, Mandarin, Spanish, and Italian, but our youngest brother also speaks Slavonic and Arabic,” Tim explained.

“Ok, you’re all down Ummm… I’m sorry I never caught your names,” She speaks softly while backing up to give Dick room.

“You don't know us?” Dick asked shocked.

“Diana said you guys were celebrities, but I don’t pay attention to famous people unless they’re from the fashion industry and I haven’t exactly caught up on American celebrities yet,” Marinette explained.

“Well I’m Jason Todd-Wayne, this is my younger brother Tim Drake-Wayne, and my oldest brother Dick Grayson-Wayne,” Jason said, pointing at each of them as he talked.

“Ok, which one of you wants to go next,” Marinette asked, looking between the younger two of the trio.

“He’ll go next,” Jason said, pushing Tim forward.

“So you said you’ve only met a couple of people we know a bunch of people would you be able to tell us who you met?” Tim asked.

“The first person I met Diana she is quite nice, I don’t know much about her though. The second person I met was a guy named Damian. His dog, Titus, tackled me, so I guess he felt bad, we met at the park across from where I was staying. He wanted to make it up to me by breakfast, which was so delicious. I had waffles! I met my landlord, Sarah Simms, she seems a bit distant, but I barely know her. Then I met you guys, your dad seems cold, but you guys are quite nice,” Marinette explains as she finishes up with Tim.

“Are you and Damian friends now? You sound quite fond of him,” Jason asks as he takes Tim’s place.

“He ran off to take a call or something as I was going to ask for his number, it’s truly a shame he was nice,” Marinette says then blushes and looks down. “And he was handsome not going to lie.”

“Aww someone has a crush?” Dick asks.

“I’ve only met him once, but if I ever met him again I would ask him out, he was so nice, so kind,” Marinette sighs, looking lost in thought.

“Are we sure she’s talking about the same person?” Tim asks in Italian. “She looks smitten by him.”

“We have to get them together! She would be so good for him,” Dick answers in Italian.

“Guys I’m pretty sure Damian doesn’t want us to interfere,” Jason responds, holding out his arms for her to measure.

“I’m all done. I’ll go call Diana to see what she wants me to do with the measurements,” Marinette says as she gets up and leaves.

“She’s perfect for him. Think he hasn’t dated or been open with anyone before maybe she could be a first,” Tim says still in Italian. “Also she’s adorable!”

“You guys decided to talk in Italian while she was working? She thought that you guys don’t like her and we’re going to have her be fired, but she may have been overthinking,” Bruce said, entering the measuring room.

“Damian was nice to that girl. She likes him. He likes her!” Dick exclaims, standing up.

“Well it’s a good thing she’s coming over tomorrow to take Damian’s measurements,” Bruce smirked.

“She is, what time?” Jason asked.

“You’re not to disturb them. If there’s a girl out there he won’t send off or a girl who won’t run to the hills, we have to at least try to set them up,” Bruce said.

After Marinette left the boys she went to give the measurements to Diana.

“Here you go,” Marinette said, cheerfully.

“Thank you. Also tomorrow there’s one more boy’s measurement to do. Bruce said he would pay extra if you go to the manor after the boutique's closing. Would you be able to take the boy’s measurements?” Diana asks taking the notepad.

“That will be easy, but would you be able to tell me the address?” Marinette asked, pulling out her phone ready to type the address.

“Bruce said he would send a car,” Diana informed Marinette. “May I have your address to give to him for his driver?”

“Yes, I live in Wayne Apartments, which is ironic because you know they’re the Waynes,” Marinette said, laughing.

“That’s so funny!” Dick said, pointing at Bruce. “You’re friends with us, the Waynes, and you live in a building he owns.”

“To be fair I’ve only been in America for three days and I already have a job and an apartment. I think that’s pretty good,” Marinette says, crossing her arms.

“I would also say pretty lucky, Spot,” Diana says as Marinette blushes.

"Bye Sunshine!" Dick calls as he goes to open the door.

“Thank you, guys! I guess I’ll see you tomorrow!” She waves to them as they leave. The rest of the day went by pretty smoothly, she designed a bit while there weren't any customers in the store.

Diana closes her shop around seven o’clock, her business is thriving. She goes home eats some food then grabs her money to buy the stuff on the list she made earlier. She left quickly and went to the closest store. She finished shopping and when she got home put the stuff away. She then took a shower and went to bed.

------------------------------------------

Tag list (Open):

@northernbluetongue @melhuney @ladysblackcat @sturchling @otaku4312 @g-arya @smolplantmum @bluefyoto94 @echpr @moonlightstar64 @thesunanditsangel @cutechip @heaven428 @elmokingkong @kass-is-weird @niza13149 @urbanpineapplefarmer @ginamarie1512 @chocolatecatstheron @crazylittlemunchkin

#ml new life au #damianette #batfam #maribat #lila salt #ml salt fic #marinette x damian #ml x dc #wifiwrites #marinette x batfam #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne

337 notes · View notes

ragingbookdragon · 5 years ago

Text

Crimes Against The Batfamily

A/N: Aye looks who’s back at it again with a post! TBH I didn't even realize I haven't posted a story in like two weeks. BUT!!! Now I am. This is one you’ve seen before from last year! The playscript! I hope you enjoy! -Thorne <3

Warnings: As usual, explicit language!

(Record scratches as screen comes to life revealing Dick Grayson (Alias Nightwing) and Jason Todd (Alias Red Hood) both holding bloodied rags to their noses. A voice is heard off camera, Bruce Wayne (Alias Batman), causing the boys to roll their eyes.)

Batman: This is incident number eleven of ‘Crimes Against The Batfamily’, parties consisting of Richard John Grayson and Jason Peter Todd, aliases Nightwing and Red Hood. (Sound of voice has shifted, now directed at parties.) What caused the incident? (The two boys glare at each other, neither speaking for a moment, then Red Hood shrugs and replies.)

Red Hood: (Nonchalantly) I don’t know what exactly caused it, but Dickhead punched me and that’s all I know. (Nightwing shouts in indirect anger, pointing at the other.)

Nightwing: (Angrily) No! He called me a fuckboy and I responded! (Red Hood rolls his eyes, looking off as he mutters under his breath.)

Red Hood: Classic trait of a fuckboy…they anger easily. (Party turns to other, voice in mock sincereness.) Maybe you should go see a therapist about your anger issues Dickhead. It’s not nice to punch other people. (Nightwing spins to look at the other, rising from his seat.)

Nightwing: (Intimidatingly) You wanna see anger issues?! I’ll give you anger issues! (Party launches itself at the other, and the two fall to the floor, shouts of anger and sounds of fists reach the recorder.)

Red Hood: (Blocking a punch from Nightwing.) It’s not my fault you get angry when someone calls you out for sleeping around! (Cries in pain.) Let go of my hair you dick!

Nightwing: I do not sleep around!

Red Hood: (Scoffing) Oh really?! Because I know of like ten different people who beg to differ!

(At this point, Batman intervenes, pulling the two apart, and the recorder fades to black. The screen brightens again, and a young boy, Tim Drake (Alias Red Robin) is seen, upper body sprawled halfway across the table, eyes staring off into the distance. A voice is heard, and a figure, Bruce Wayne (Alias Batman) appears, taking a seat across from the boy.)

Batman: (Sighing quietly) This is incident number thirty-one of ‘Crimes Against Family’, party consisting of Timothy Jackson Drake, alias Red Robin. (Batman reaches forward, gently nudging Red Robin on the head.) Red Robin, what caused the incident? (The boy jerks up, and shouts while gesturing to himself.)

Red Robin: (Admittingly) It was me! It was all me! I did it! (He looks at Batman, and hisses) And I’m not sorry about it. (Batman watches, then leans forward, voice soft.)

Batman: (Calmly) Red Robin you didn’t do anything. That’s why we’re here. (Party sits down, confusion on their face.)

Red Robin: (Disbelief) Wait what? What do you mean, ‘I didn’t do anything’?

Batman: Red Robin, you’ve been staring at a wall for the past six hours. You haven’t even- (Batman cuts off, shaking his head.) Wait, how long has it been since you’ve slept? (Red Robin shrugs.)

Red Robin: Dunno…fifty-six hours, give or take an hour. (He waves a hand around.) I don’t keep track. (Batman folds his hands together, eyes shutting.)

Batman: (Exasperated) Red Robin, how about you take a nap? (Red Robin gives a mock salute, already laying back on the table.)

Red Robin: Aye-Aye boss man.

(Batman lets out another sigh, and the screen fades once more. The recorder turns on again, and this time, two boys, Jason Todd (Alias Red Hood) and Damian Wayne (Alias Robin) are sitting handcuffed to the table. Bruce Wayne (Alias Batman) sits across from them.)

Batman: (Tiredly) This is incident number eighty-eight of ‘Crimes Against Family’, parties consisting of Jason Peter Todd, alias Red Hood, and Damian Wayne, alias Robin. (He reaches forward, tugging the cuffs to make sure they’re secure.) What caused the incident? (Neither party says a word. Red Hood is staring off into the distance, Robin is glaring at the camera. Batman clears his throat, repeating his question.) I said, what caused the incident? (Robin scoffs, leaning forward.)

Robin: (Confidently) I did nothing. I am innocent. (Red Hood snorts, turning to look at him.)

Red Hood: (Amusingly) You’re about as innocent as I am pint-sized. (Party leans forward, getting face to face with the other and speaks menacingly.) Which is…Not. At. All. (Robin glares at the other, and Batman flips a paper onto the table, reading off it.)

Batman: It says here that you two got into a fight over personal workspace.

Red Hood: (Rolling his eyes and muttering annoyed.) He started it. (The cuffs jerk against the table, and all eyes move to the small boy.)

Robin: (Whispering frostily) Take the cuffs off and I will finish it.

Red Hood: (Mockingly) And how are you gonna do that? Nip at my heels like the little ankle-biter you are? (Robin lets out a cry of anger, hands reaching for the older boy only to be stopped by the cuffs. He turns to Batman, fury in his voice.)

Robin: (Enraged) Father I demand retribution against Todd! He is mocking me!

Red Hood: (Copying the other party’s words wryly.) ‘Father I demand retribution against Todd…he is mocking me…’ (Party faces the other, smirking sarcastically.) Keep yipping ankle-biter. He might care one day.

(A long run of beeps sound in the recorder as Robin screams explicit words at the other party. Batman puts his head in his hands, and the recorder goes dark. When the screen appears again, four boys, Dick Grayson (Alias Nightwing), Jason Todd (Alias Red Hood), Tim Drake (Alias Red Robin), and Damian Wayne (Alias Robin), are sitting at the table. It is important to note that Tim Drake and Damian Wayne have been separated by Dick Grayson and Jason Todd, the two younger boys sitting at the ends while the two older boys sit in the middle. Bruce Wayne (Alias Batman) is sitting across from them, a weary look on his face.)

Batman: This is… (He sighs, running a hand down his face.) incident number one-hundred-twenty-two of ‘Crimes Against Family’… (He shuts his eyes, muttering to himself.) Christ how many are we gonna have? (Batman shakes his head, returning to the task.) Parties consisting of Richard John Grayson, alias Nightwing, Jason Peter Todd, alias Red Hood, Timothy Jackson Drake, alias Red Robin, and Damian Wayne, alias Robin. (Eyeing the others, he asks) What caused the incident? (None of the boys respond, prompting him to switch tactics.) I promise that if you just tell me what happened, you won’t get in trouble. (Nightwing and Red Hood are looking away, Red Robin is staring at his hands, but Robin’s eyes briefly meet Batman’s. Batman leans closer, urging him to speak.) You can tell me Robin, I won’t get upset. (Robin considers his words for a moment, then his mouth opens. Before he can speak, an arm rests along his chest and he looks over at Red Hood who is shaking his head.)

Red Hood: (Warningly) Snitches get stiches. (Robin blinks, then frowns.)

Robin: Did you just threaten me with bodily harm for telling the truth? (Another arm rests on his chest and he looks over to see Nightwing grinning at him.)

Nightwing: There’s no truth to tell, because we didn’t do anything kiddo. (Robin seems to understand what he is being told, and he turns back to Batman.)

Robin: I have nothing to say Father. We have not done anything. (Batman narrows his eyes at the four and leans back in his seat, crossing his arms. He simply stares at them, waiting for something. A ping sounds from somewhere in the room, causing the boys to glance at Batman who smiles, pulling something from his belt.)

Batman: (Apologetically) Sorry, I should get that. (He scans the small device, and Red Robin’s eyes widen as he leans forward.)

Red Robin: Hey! That’s my communicator! (Batman looks at the device then back to him.)

Batman: (Confused) Are you sure? It was left on my desk. (Red Robin nods as the device pings again.)

Red Robin: Yeah, it’s mine. (Batman nods.)

Batman: So then you want it back? (He reads the screen again.) Looks like Conner and Bart are meeting up for pizza later, they want you to go. (He eyes Red Robin, smiling.) I’d be willing to part with it…for information on what happened. (Red Robin begins to squirm in his seat and lets out a small groan. Red Hood leans forward, glaring at him.)

Red Hood: (Threateningly) Don’t you dare Timberly. (Red Robin turns to him.)

Red Robin: …Jason… (Red Hood shakes his head.)

Red Hood: He’s manipulating you Tim. Don’t give in. (Red Robin seems to have an inner battle until he looks back at Batman.)

Red Robin: I can meet up with them later. We didn’t do anything. (Batman nods, eyes moving to Red Hood, who is staring at the ceiling.)

Batman: Red Hood… (He’s cut off by Red Hood who chuckles and shakes his head.)

Red Hood: You might as well move on to Dickhead, old man. (He tips his head up, looking at Batman.) ‘Cause I ain’t got shit to talk about. (Batman raises his hands in defeat, turning to Nightwing who meets his gaze head on.)

Batman: Nightwing.

Nightwing: (Nodding) Batman.

Batman: You’re not going to talk, are you?

Nightwing: (Shaking his head, his voice firm.) I don’t have anything to hide. (He gestures to the others.) Neither do they. We didn’t do anything. (The others nod in unison, and Batman watches for a moment before sighing and nodding.)

Batman: Alright…I guess I can’t win. (He rises from the table but pauses and looks down at them.) I don’t think I tell you all enough… (He smiles sincerely.) I’m proud of each of you. (He turns away, making his way to the door when a cry of defeat sounds from behind.)

Red Robin: It was Dick and Jason! They started it and got Damian and I in on it! (Two shouts of indignation sound followed by a voice of agreement.)

Robin: Drake is right! Richard and Todd thought joyriding in the Batmobile would be fun and we got pulled in on it! (Red Hood lets out a gasp and turns to them.)

Red Hood: (Disbelief) You little snitches!

Red Robin: (Scoffing at Red Hood) Oh, you had it coming Jason! You’re the one who broke the vase in the hallway!

Red Hood: That was an accident! (He turns his attention to Batman, now watching the scene unfold.) Timber set the fire in the kitchen last week! (He points at Robin.) And the demon is the one who hacked the cameras at the gala!

Robin: That was Richard!

Nightwing: (He stares at Robin as if he’d been slapped, then points at Red Hood) Jason is the one who pantsed Two-Face last night!

Red Hood: (Pointing at Nightwing) You dared me to do it!

Nightwing: (Speaking knowingly) You could’ve said no.

Red Hood: (Incredulously) And be your bitch for a whole day because I was too much of a sissy to do a dare?! (Glowering at Nightwing at spitting.) Fuck. That. We do our dares like badasses!

(The four boys continue shouting out faults that have occured, resulting in a free-for-all that has an unimpressed Batman turning to the camera, his finger shifting to find the off switch. Sounds of fighting reach the recorder, and the screen goes black.)

261 notes · View notes

forthemultiverse · 7 years ago

Text

A Siblings Trust - Batsis!Reader

Requested by Carleyviolingirl28 :

So I was wondering if I could do a request for a middle sibling Batsis type of one shot where she is so focused on missions and school and her responsibilities that she neglects her health (like not eating or sleeping enough) and her brothers don’t notice until she passes out on a mission or something? And could you please include their reactions and what they would do to help her? Thanks!

I’m not sure I followed the request exactly how you wanted me to, sorry, but I hope you like it. This was requested on Quotev and was an interesting change for me; I hope I did Batsis justice since I’ve never written that before. Also, I’ve just started posting these stories over on Wattpad as well as Quotev so if any of you like reading fics on there, *awkward finger guns* I use ForTheMultiverse as my username on there too <3<3

Request are open in case anyone else is wandering :D

You heard the alarm going off the first time. That didn’t mean you were going to listen to it or get up. Not that you didn’t want to get up, you knew you had to, or else you’d end up being late to school, but you also figured that Alfred would eventually come and get you after noticing you hadn’t eaten breakfast yet. When you were late for school, you decided it was Tim’s fault. He’d told Alfred you’d gone in early because he genuinely thought you had. Apparently, it was a believable thing for you to do.

You just about scrambled through the hallway without being seen by anyone, arriving as the bell rang, signalling the end of the second period. If you could slip into the crowd, then no one would question the fact you’d just arrived.

“You look like a mess.” Tim mused, spotting you straight away. He was a few months younger than you, meaning you were in the same school year and most of the same classes. “I covered for you by the way.”

“Why’d you tell Alfred I would already be at school?”

“You’ve left without me almost every day this half term, and I’ve always found you in the library once I’ve got here!” he defended and you stopped walking. He was right. You’d been getting up at four thirty every morning. "See!” he took your stunned face as him being right, and you let him.

“What time do you usually get up?”

“Like six? I do casework for an hour then get ready.” There was a fifteen-minute break after the second period so he could quickly catch you up on everything you’d missed you’d missed.

“I get up so much earlier than you.”

“You go to bed before me though.” That only made you feel worse. You had to get up early to work on cases because you knew Tim was smarter than you. He would figure everything out if you didn’t work harder. If Tim stayed up later than you, he was getting the same amount of sleep as you but doing so much better than you were. He wasn't oversleeping or accidentally ditching school. He was coping.

“True…”

“Are you okay? You can go home, take the day off, I’ll get your work for you if you’re too tired?”

“I’m fine,”

“Fine?”

“Great.” Everyone knew that 'fine' never meant fine.

“Promise?”

“If you’re okay, I’m okay.” you nodded, he was scanning you for weakness, and you weren’t going to let him find any. If he wasn’t oversleeping, neither were you. “Promise.”

“M’kay…” he handed over a few sheets of paper for you to start filling in. He was technically your brother, and you loved him like blood family, but you couldn't bring yourself to say that you needed help. Your family was all about survival, and that's what you were doing.

Sadly, you couldn’t just zone out for the rest of the day to rest; you needed to help your youngest brother out. Damian didn’t like to ask for help, so you didn’t let him. You just saw Robin in trouble over lunch so disappeared from your friends to suit up. He’d probably be rude to you, but he was family, and you could see him struggling through the live video on your phone.

“What’s happening?” you asked through the comms

“White van has money in it, and the black van is shooting at me.”

“You get the money; I’ll distract.”

“I can do it on my own,” he growled as you appeared around the corner and swung from lamppost to lamppost.

“You don’t have to though.”

You got yourself ahead of the black van. Jumping over incoming bullets to land on the front - terrifying the driver and stopping the fire for a moment as one of the gunmen clambered into the seat and tried to hit you. Damian took the help and disappeared into the shadows. Maybe you should have given Damian the harder job; he was fully awake while you were off your game. But he was your younger brother, whether he admitted it or not, and as an older sibling, it was your job to protect him. No matter how much slower you were moving, or how sloppy your attacks were - you needed to defend him.

The bullet missed you because Damian was quick-footed, and watching your back from his takedown. You moved forward, onto the van roof. Tossing one Batarang into the glass and kicking a smoke bomb through the gap. The van swerved across the road, turning fast as it lost control. You tried to keep your balance, but your feet were sliding backwards as it hit the lamppost. The grip on your feet held you on the edge of the van, but bullets were flying everywhere. You ducked and kicked one of the guys as he stopped to rub his eyes. One down. The others weren't so stupid, managing to fire randomly, knowing they'd cause some kind of damage even if they didn't hit you, hoping they'd take a few civilians down before the police arrived. They wanted to make a point, and you couldn't think fast enough to stop them. The gunfire made your ears ring. The second Batarang left your hand, no real aim but managing to knock two guns to the floor before returning to your side - and you sent it straight into the smoke again. No clue what else todo

The smoke started to clear, and a stray bullet was a metre away from hitting you in the stomach. You froze. The first time you'd ever been entirely unable to move. You were tired and unprepared for the entire fight. Your brain raced over how you should have told Tim to go; you should have let Damian deal with this. You didn't need to be here. No one had called you into action. Your stupid sibling override was going to get you shot.

Something wrapped around your leg and pulled, slamming you into the broken van roof, and out of harm’s way.

“The Police have the money, let’s get out of here before you freeze again,” Damian snarled as he released your ankle.

You both got onto a roof when he finally said something.

“You don’t look good.”

“Whatever, wannabe Bruce.”

“You look tired and old.”

“And why do you care?”

“I don’t!”

“Awe! Do you care about me really, Damian? Do you not like it when other people try to hurt me?” you spoke with a baby voice and grabbed his cheeks, “Is the baby growing up?”

“I’m not a baby.”

“You’re like eight, that’s a baby.”

“I’m eleven!” he yelled

“What’s that? Six?”

“Maybe you're not sloppy; maybe you’re just unskilled, wouldn’t surprise me.”

“I was trained by Batman.”

“And he obviously didn’t care enough to train you well.”

“Don’t make me hurt you,”

“You couldn’t if you tried, maybe I should’ve let you take the bullet to teach you a lesson. Don’t think I’ve ever seen someone move as slow as you were.”

“Screw off Dami.”

“Tssk!” he stormed off, and you jumped off the roof to return to school, knowing you’d missed the start of your next class and won’t be able to get into the classroom until it’s over.

“Something is wrong with (Y/N)!” Damian announced as he walked into Dick’s apartment. Dick screamed a dropped his cereal bowl, not expecting anyone to come over that day.

“Learn to knock!”

“You should always be ready for an attack.” Damian shrugged.

“Not on my day off!” He grabbed a shirt and tried to shuffle some of the sprawled clothes out of Damian’s view. He didn’t need to know Babs had only recently left.

“You’re lifestyle has gone downhill.” Damian judged, “You are aware it’s midday, and you’re eating breakfast foods?”

“Cereal is for all times of the day.” Dick poured himself another bowl now his first one had gone on the floor, and joined his brother on the couch, “So, (Y/N)?”

“She overslept, her fighting was sloppy, she almost got shot, and something’s wrong.”

“And why do you care?” Dick felt pride in his chest, Damian did care about his siblings. “Are you warming up to the family?”

“No! I just don’t want her to ruin a mission!”

“Sure. If you’re concerned, why don’t you just talk to her?”

“She said I was eight and made fun of me.”

“She’s your sister, of course, she’s going to tease you, that’s sibling culture.”

“Then why am I told off for doing it?”

“Because you’re harsh and mean, she’s teasing in love; you can tell the difference by the tone of voice. You want to try talking to her again?” Damian scowled and shook his head. Talking to you again might make you think he cares, “So you want me to try?"

“You’re the oldest.”

“Go it.” Dick winked and waved him out of his apartment.

When Dick found you later that day, he was in civilian gear and offering to buy coffee. Tim had some club after school, so the two of you just drove to the nearest cafe. Dick was known to just randomly show up and do something he dubbed ‘Sibling Bonding’, so you didn’t think it was strange.

“How’s your day gone? Mine’s been good, I’ve had a day off, it’s always nice to have a day off and just catch up on sleep and stuff. It’s relaxing, don’t you think?”

That raised a red flag for you. Dick could be very subtle when he wanted to, but he was trying to cut to the chase without pissing you off.

“I’m fine, and I told Tim that, so if he sent you in, I appreciate the free coffee, but I’m honestly fine.”

“Tim didn’t send me, if Tim had sent me a message, I would have told him to trust you and been a whole lot more subtle.”

“Alfred?”

“I spoke to him, but only after Damian asked me to talk to you.”

“Damian?” you were shocked, the little monster was your annoying younger brother and a living nightmare. He may have saved you ass earlier, but you didn’t think him as the type to go to Dick worried about you. That was a you move. You looked out for your family.

“I’m your brother (Y/N), you can talk to me, and you can talk to him. If you just speak to him like an adult, he won’t be mean. He doesn’t try to be an asshole, and he does care really.”

“Very deep down.” you rolled your eyes.

“Very very deep down, but I’ve seen the nicer side.”

“I’m fine.”

“If Tim already to spoke to you, Damian came to me, and Alfred seems pretty concerned, I think that means you need to take a break.”

“Think about it yourself; someone was telling you that you’re tired, but who knows your body best?”

“I do.”

“Exactly, I know my body, I may look tired, but I’m not.”

“Oversleeping this morning?”

“I told Tim to wake me up! That was his sleep-deprived ass forgetting!” You lied a little. You didn’t want to admit you were weaker than your brothers. You all had the same schedule, you all worked hard, but you always felt like you were lagging behind. You could understand why Barbara had quit being Batgirl. It’s sad to realise you can’t actually help out as much as someone else. But you weren’t going to quit. You couldn’t. You’d be letting them all down, it would mean you’d wasted so much of your life to train for no reason. It would mean they were out there, risking their lives and you wouldn't be able to help them is they ended up in a dangerous situation. You’d drive yourself mad - staying up as late as you could while trying to maintain your grade average trying to solve cases and do homework and workout and keep up with Tim and stay ahead of Damian and not let Bruce down. You would be the first one out of bed each morning, first into costume if someone was needed on the field. You would work twice as hard as the boys, and you wouldn’t quit. You couldn’t let them see you as weaker than them, and you wouldn't let them be out there without you. Not a chance.

“Okay, you do know your body, but if you have another bullet scare like today, I’m going to Bruce, and you’re taking at least a weak to rest.”

“Come on!”

“That’s nice, that’s me being a good big brother and trusting you.” You nodded, but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as he lifted his hand for a high-five “Family? What would you do if you were in my position?”

“Family.” you groaned and gave him the high-five, deliberately not answering the second question. You'd make sure siblings were okay; you'd make them rest. You wouldn't trust them the way Dick did.

You made it through the week, focusing on keeping your body going and not slipping up. You weren’t going to let Dick go to Bruce, and you weren’t going to take a day off. But everyone met for a change of patrol a week later, and you were sitting on the edge of the rooftop. You were rubbing your eyes and wishing you had coffee to wake you up. You hadn’t had time to grab anything to eat before heading out to meet everyone, and you were supposed to take over from Damian. You couldn’t let him stay out any later since he was still younger. You just hoped you could talk Dick into making a Fast food run or something.

“Who’s here?” Tim asked, landing last.

“Everyone but you,” Damian smirked, and Tim stuck his tongue out.

“Up (Y/S/N), you and me can take West High Street, Red Robin and Spoiler, use Wayne Enterprises as your base, Orphan and Signal can use here, Robin’s been patrolling all afternoon so he can head home and rest, Batgirl will be joining us later.”

As you stood up, your head was light, all the blood rushing to it. Your vision went, and you felt yourself trip back. Luckily Cass caught you before you fell off the roof.

When you woke up, you were lying on your bed, Dick asleep in the chair by the door. As you moved, he shot awake. All of his nerves and senses awake.

“(Y/N)! Thank god you’re okay.”

“I was always fine.”

“You passed out from standing off; you nearly fell off the roof.”

“None of you would’ve let that happen.” You shrugged, trying to get out of bed. He jumped forward and held the duvet down.

“Cass caught you, and you are not getting up.”

“How long have I been out?”

“A few hours,”

“Then there’s still time to get out there and help.”

“Not a chance.”

“Cass caught me; I’m not hurt. I can patrol. I know I’m fine.”

“I trusted you last week. We all trusted you! You said you were fine last week. You aren’t leaving this bed for a day at least.”

“You can’t force me to stay here.”

“Yes, I can.”

“Let me out!”

“I’m your brother, and I trusted when you said you were fine and you almost fell off the roof because you stood up. There is no way you’re getting out of this bed. Tim trusted you, Damian trusted my judgement.”

You noticed something different in Dick’s face. He was tense, and he suddenly seemed a lot older than you usually thought of him as. He was your brother, one of you guys, you forgot that he’d been doing this superhero thing a lot longer than you. He’d been the first. Your lies had made him trust you, and you’d almost gotten hurt. His decision could have got you hurt. Your choices made him feel guilty, which made you feel guilty - which of course you deserved to feel.

“Dick…” you whispered, “I was just doing what you all do. You all stay up as late, work hard, I’m just working harder to try and keep up. Trying to protect the others...”

“You don’t have to be me! You actually have the joy of not being me, the only one, the first Robin. There are so many of us that we always have someone spare for patrol. You could’ve just taken the night off.”

“But what if you all realised you didn’t need me at all!”

“You're our sister, blood or not; we’re always going to need you, mask on or off.”

“Wait, you’re trying to keep up?” Tim pushed the door open; he’d been eavesdropping the entire time.

“See! He now thinks lower of me!”

“I don’t think you’re less!” Tim shook his head and rushed towards the bed. He’d just finished patrol. “I want you to be healthy. I’m not healthy, that’s why I noticed. I set six alarms to make sure I wake up in the morning, one of them makes me coffee, so I don’t even have to move without caffeine in my system. I didn’t want you to be like me.”

“You’re the younger one, I should be setting the example,” you complained, flopping into your pillow.

“This is my fault.” He muttered, “If I wasn’t always trying to prove myself and be as good as you…” he was freaking out and ran out of the room, coming back in a few minutes with one of his coffee alarm clocks.

“No, Tim.” Dick made him take it from you, even though you clapped your hands and tried to grab it. “She needs rest, not a way to stay awake. Actually no, I’m taking that. You need sleep too, both of you are on bed rest until further notice.”

“Coming from you, you don’t sleep either!” You pointed out as Dick disappeared to take Tim’s coffee supply away.

“Yeah, because I got into the habit and adapted at a young age. I was the only one, remember.”

“I know, you said it like five seconds ago.” Dick snorted at your comment, and that made you feel better. “The extended families so big by now that no one should ever end up like this again.”

There was a long pause in the conversation as all three of you thought about that. From Kate to Duke to Carrie and Harper and the Fox Family. There was an awful lot of people running around Gotham nowadays. You had been so concerned about making sure Damian wasn’t going to get hurt that you’d almost been shot, you’d been so concerned about making sure you weren’t left behind whilst your brothers were in danger that you nearly fell off a roof. Damian had gone to Dick, which meant he was looking out for you - just in his own socially inept way.

“How does it feel to have started all of this?” You asked.

“If it's the reason you guys are collapsing, I'm not very proud…”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know, but as your brother, you should be able to tell me the stuff you can’t tell Bruce, you can admit you’re tired or need a break, or trying to balance too much. Siblings support each other. We're a family, so we help each other - whether that's by making you sleep, or pushing you away from gunfire, none of us have to do this alone anymore.”

“Where’s Jason at right now?” you asked out of interest.

“He came back to help cover patrol for a bit so we can all have a break, he’s joining us tomorrow night.”

“Seriously?” you sat up straighter. It was going to be the first time in a long while that all your brothers were in the same house.

“(Y/N)?” Damian opened the door carrying a bowl of popcorn, “I could hear all the noise through the rest of the house so thought you might like some popcorn.”

“Thank you?” You took the bowl from him, and he disappeared quicker than he had appeared. He really didn’t know how to handle being a brother and you immediately wanted to mother him.

“Told you he cared.” Dick smiled, grabbing Tim as he tried to sneak out.

“You’re benched too.”

“Not fair.”

“Not making the same mistake twice.” Dick mused, taking a fistful of popcorn, “Disney movies all day tomorrow? I’m taking the day off, follow my example?”

“You’re the oldest, so I guess,” you said, smiling and trying to sound as irritated as possible. Dick was doing what you would do, but with the heart, only he could have. All of your family had their way to show they cared, yours was working yourself senseless to protect them, but if they were taking tomorrow off too...you could rest. Everyone could relax.

1K notes · View notes

sassycassie-s-writing · 7 years ago

Text

All My Fault

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam - Damian Wayne/Robin/Batman (it’ll make sense I promise)

Rating: PG-11 (minor blood)

Original Idea: @welovegroot asked me once if I’d ever try a Damian one-shot. So I tried it. I came up with the idea in the shower.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) Well, the story on this one is awesome and I’m super proud of it (it is wide open for a sequel), however the characterization is a tad wonky. Sorry. First time writing characters usually is, right? @batboys-and-other-messes

^^^^^

“What even are these things?!” Damian—Robin—demanded, slicing through one of the android-looking things with his katana five yards away.

“I don’t know. But they have organic parts—which means disabling them might be considered killing them. Watch it with the sword,” I replied, ducking under a haymaker.

“Tt. Cloudburst, do you honestly assume that I am incapable of nonlethal combat when armed with my favored weapon?” Robin snapped.

“No. I’m just saying you gotta be prec—”

“LOOK OUT!” an unfamiliar voice shouted. Something slammed into me, tackling me to the ground. There was a loud explosion. A dark figure landed on top of me, shielding me from debris that fell.

“Robin!” I shrieked in alarm.

“Alive and uninjured,” Damian’s voice said in my commlink. I sighed in relief.

The dark figure on top of me pulled up a bit. “Are you alright?” he asked. He wore a black hood, and, in the darkness, I couldn’t see his face. All I could see were weirdly familiar green eyes searching my face. His eyes widened. He said something in a language I vaguely recognized—it sounded like Damian’s Arabic—and then, “Cloudburst?!” he breathed in amazement, climbing off of me. I sat up. He offered me his hand.

“Yeah… who are you?” I returned, taking his hand and letting him help me to my feet. He wore a long black-and-dark-grey trench coat-like getup, the hood over his head obscuring his features and sturdy combat boots on his feet. A wall of debris was separating us from the fight—and the rest of the Bat-family.

He dropped my hand. “I’m Batman,” he replied.

I scrunched my eyebrows. “No you’re not,” I retorted. “Batman’s up on the roof beating the crap out of these things.”

The stranger snickered. “Oh I missed you,” he remarked.

“Do I know you?” I asked sharply.

He flipped his hood down. “Do you really not recognize me, Cloudburst?” he wondered.

He wore a black domino mask on his eyes, but without the shadows of the hood I could see a familiar pattern of hazel flecks in the green. A mole on his cheek that I knew. Glossy black hair and rich brown skin. The jawline was sharper than the one I knew, but the eye and nose shape were the same.

My jaw dropped open. Damian!? I mouthed. He smirked and nodded. His eyes flicked to my ear, where my commlink was. He jerked his head toward it. I flipped the link off. “Damian!?” I demanded. “What’s going on!?”

He wrapped me in a quick hug. “I’m from the future,” he said. “I chased one of these things back here.”

“What are they?”

“They call themselves Time Bombs. A fleet of androids who specifically go back in history to mess things up. I remember this attack from when I was thirteen. There were several nights of fighting these.”

“How old are you now?” I asked.

“Twenty-one,” he said.

My age. And Jason’s age. “Wow. You grew up,” I said. He was taller even than Jason and built like a cross between Jason and Dick’s builds. Dick was slim, lean muscle and fluid lines. Jason was a wall of sheer muscle. Damian was caught between them—muscular and strong, but not bulky. His shoulders weren’t as broad as Jason’s but not as narrow as Dick’s.

“At the age of seventeen I reached a growth spurt. I grew from five-feet-six-inches to six-feet-even in six months. It was the worst pain I have ever experienced in my life,” he informed me dramatically. “However, I believe I have finally finished growing. I am six-feet-three-inches with no desire to grow any taller.”

“And now you’re Batman,” I said, awed and surprised.

That seemed to stoke his ego. He straightened up from how he’d hunched to talk to me—I’d always been short. “Tt. Did you ever doubt I would take up the mantle?”

I shrugged. “Nah. Right now you’re just a little young,” I said.

That appeared to remind him what was happening. “What day is today?”

“July first.”

Older-Damian sucked in a breath. “Oh no.” He swore in about six different languages.

“What is it?”

“This is the day you go missing. July first. I was thirteen. We got separated after that explosion. Your commlink went dead after you shouted to make sure I was okay. Nnn… None of us ever saw you again.” He pushed my stray hairs out of my face like he was trying to memorize every detail. “You were always so kind to me. Treated me like an equal even though I was so much younger than you. You respected me—and it hurt when you vanished.

“We looked for you. Todd in particular roamed the planet in search of you. The Red Hood has more liberty to do that, after all.” Damian sighed and set a heavy hand on my shoulder. “We never found you. It’s been eight years and we never thought we’d see you again. We never even found your body. I’m sorry.” He bowed his head. “We failed you. I failed you. I was the closest to you and I couldn’t—and I’m sorry.”

“Damian,” I said entreatingly, bending my knees just a little to get under his bowed head to look him in the eyes, the noises of the battle beyond the wall muffled. He refused to meet my gaze. “This life was my choice. I chose to do good with my skills. What happens to me is not your fault.” His eyes finally met mine. “Even as Batman, you can’t take the weight of the world on your shoulders. And right now, the you I know is thirteen. That’s too young to be burdened with that kind of feeling.”

He sighed. “You sound like Grayson,” he muttered. I smiled and tilted his chin up.

“Hey. Head high, baby bird. You’re in no way responsible for what happens to me,” I said.

It was bizarre to see Damian at my age while still being my age—like, not consistently eight years older than him. I decided not to say that to him.

He glanced at his utility belt. Then back at me. “May I take you back to my time for five minutes? I’ll bring you right back here to maintain history. But I want the others to be able to give you a proper goodbye—let you all wallow in mushy emotions together one last time.”

I thought for a moment—and nodded. “Yeah. Anything for you guys.”

He put one arm around my shoulders. “Hold on to my waist,” he instructed.

“Glad to see you’ve loosened up a little,” I remarked.

“Tt. I am not going soft, Cloudburst,” he snapped, pulling a strange device—that was glowing green—out of his utility belt.

“I didn’t say that,” I countered as he fiddled with it. “I said you’ve loosened up. Thirteen-year-old-you will barely let me touch him.”

“It is necessary for time travel. Hold on tightly.”

I did. I hugged myself close to him while his arm around my shoulders tightened its grip. His arm holding the time travel device had been cut from the explosion and was bleeding. He didn’t appear to mind.

He pressed a button. Reality melted away like a bad Count Vertigo trip. I closed my eyes and put my face in Damian’s shoulder to avoid the wave of nausea I was certain would come if I watched any longer.

“It’s over. We’re here,” Damian said quietly after a moment.

I withdrew to see the Batcave. Almost exactly how I remembered it, but all the technology was seriously updated. The Batmobile looked like a newer model too.

Familiar costumes milled around the cave.

“Grayson. Todd. Drake,” Damian said louder, letting me go. My arms dropped from his waist. “Someone here to say farewell.”

Dick, Jason, and Tim all whirled around. All eight years older. Dick in his mid-thirties, Jason twenty-nine, and Tim twenty-five. Jaws fell open and three pairs of blue eyes in differing shades widened.

“Cloudburst!” three voices exclaimed.

I got smashed into a group hug from the boys—men. Their arms held me so tight I could barely breathe.

Dick looked at Damian. “You found her?” he asked. Damian nodded. “What happened?”

“I chased a Time Bomb to the night she disappeared. It self-destructed upon landing. I got her out of the way of the explosion. I brought her here to say goodbyes. Once you do, I will return her.”

The men all squeezed me tighter and then passed me around for one-on-one hugs. They told me how much they’d missed me and how happy they were to see me again. I thought Dick was never going to let me go. I assured them it wasn’t their fault for whatever was going to happen to me that caused me to go missing. Dick cried. Tim cried. Jason even cried a little. I held them all in tight hugs and told them how much I cared for them.

“I just feel like we failed,” Tim muttered into my shoulder. “I used the computer to search for you for ages before Bruce finally told us to move on. But we never did. Not really. Whenever we had a spare minute we’d resume looking—”

A rumble shook the cave. We all swayed on our feet. Damian and Tim both caught me to keep me from falling over.

“Earthquake?” Dick asked over the noise.

“Can’t be!” Tim called.

Just as quickly as it started, the rumbling stopped. Damian and Tim didn’t catch me in time to keep me from falling on my face. Luckily I managed to not break my nose.

Damian and Tim locked eyes. “Drake,” Damian said.

“On it,” Tim replied, already moving to the Bat-computer.

Damian and Jason helped me to my feet. “Are you alright?” both asked at the same time.

I nodded. “Fine,” I replied.

“Uh… Damian?” Tim called from the computer. “You’re gonna wanna see this!”

Everyone ran to the computer, including me, and stood behind Tim’s chair. Dick, Jason, and Damian all stared in alarm. But nothing on the screen made sense to me. “Uh… what’s going on?” I asked.

“The Time Bombs. They all self-destructed in the time stream. All timeways have been blocked,” Tim said.

“What’s a timeway?” I asked.

“It’s what we call the highways through time,” Jason said. “Dick came up with the name.”

“Of course he did,” I muttered. “So what does that mean?”

“It means we can’t travel through time anymore,” Tim said. “You’re stuck here, Cloudburst. At least until we figure out how to fix this.”

Damian gasped. “You disappeared… because of me,” he breathed, almost looking like he needed to sit down. “It’s my fault you went missing.”

“A self-fulfilling prophesy,” Jason agreed. “You meet your future on the path you take to avoid it—or change it.”

Damian put his hands on my shoulders. “I am so sorry,” he whispered. “I’ve trapped you in the future. It is all my fault.”

Next Chapter

#All My Fault #Damian Wayne #Damian Wayne Imagine #Damian Wayne FanFiction #Robin #Robin Imagine #Robin FanFiction #DC #DC Imagine #DC FanFiction #BatFam #BatFam Imagine #BatFam FanFiction #Batman #Batman Imagine #Batman FanFiction

97 notes · View notes

asfeedin · 5 years ago

Text

Revisiting Major League Baseball’s 1987 MVP Races

ST. LOUIS, MO – CIRCA 1985: Ozzie Smith #1 of the St. Louis Cardinals runs the bases during a Major … [+] League Baseball game circa 1985 at Busch Stadium in St. Louis, Missouri. Smith played for the Cardinals from 1982-96. (Photo by Focus on Sport/Getty Images)

Getty Images

Most of baseball’s timeless rules and tradition have expired in the 21st century, as anyone who has watched a game or 10 from the 1980s or 1990s during isolation can confirm. Seriously, teams used to bunt all the time, often during playoff games that were often played during the day and could be viewed in less time than it would eventually take to watch The Irishman. (Game 7 of the 1991 World Series, one of the greatest and tensest games ever played, started at 7:38 PM EST, went 10 innings and lasted three hours and 23 minutes, meaning you probably got to see some or all of your late local news, speaking of something timeless and traditional that is less timeless and traditional today)

But one timeless rule and tradition remains intact: The summer in which you were 13 was the best summer for baseball ever.

This is particularly true if you were 13 in the summer of 1987. (Sorry, everyone else born before or after the 1973-74 nexus, you’re wrong) Baseball cards were as plentiful as they were going to be profitable (didn’t quite work out that way). The ball was juiced and everyone hit homers (we liked it more as kids than we do as adults).

And the game was loaded — we mean, absolutely LOADED — with superstars. This, of course, is true of any era, and kids who were 13 last summer get to tell everyone for the rest of time how they got to watch Mike Trout as a teenager, which is admittedly pretty great.

But, again, kids, you’re wrong, and get off our lawn, because the summer of 1987 was the best time to be a teenaged baseball fan. A whopping 36 Hall of Famers suited up in the summer of 1987 (and Bruce Sutter sat out the season with an injury). This total does not yet count Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens, who may have been the greatest hitter and greatest pitcher to ever perform on a big league diamond.

The awards balloting underscores just how deep the phenomenal talent ran. Eleven future Hall of Famers received a vote in the Most Valuable Player balloting. So did another nine players who either once seemed destined for Cooperstown or at least built compelling candidacies.

Thirty-three years later, in a spring (and quite possibly a summer and a fall) without baseball, the memories of the season, and the debates over who did win the awards and who should have, are as strong as ever. So what better way to pass the time as we wait for the return of the national pastime than by doing so by comparing the 1987 MVP candidates by both the stats used to evaluate them in real time as well as the stats we rely upon more in 2020?

1987 AL MVP VOTING

1.) George Bell (.308-47 HRs-134 RBIs-.957 OPS, 5.0 WAR)

2.) Alan Trammell (.343-28-105-21 SBs-.953-8.2 WAR)

3.) Kirby Puckett (.332-28-99-12 SBs-.900 OPS-4.2 WAR)

4.) Dwight Evans (.305-34-123-.986 OPS-4.8 WAR)

5.) Paul Molitor (.353-16-75-45 SBs-1.003 OPS-6.0 WAR)

6.) Mark McGwire (.289-49-118-.987 OPS-5.1 WAR)

7.) Don Mattingly (.327-30-115-.937 OPS-5.1 WAR)

8.) Tony Fernandez (.322-5-67-32 SBs-.805 OPS-5.1 WAR)

9.) Wade Boggs (.363-24-89-1.049 OPS-8.3 WAR)

10.) Gary Gaetti (.257-31-109-10 SBs-.788 OPS-2.4 WAR)

OTHER NOTABLES: 12.) Darrell Evans, 18.) Robin Yount; 19.) Roger Clemens; T20.) Jack Morris; T20.) Ruben Sierra; T23.) Jose Canseco

TORONTO – 1987: George Bell #11 of the Toronto Blue Jays swings at a pitch during a 1987 game at … [+] Exposition Stadium in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. (Photo by Gray Mortimore/Getty Images)

Getty Images

REAL-TIME REACTION: This one was controversial as Bell (332 points) edged Trammell (311 points) for the MVP despite Trammell’s Tigers surging over the final week and beating out Bell’s Blue Jays for the AL East by sweeping the last series of the regular season. Trammell hit .417 with seven homers, 20 RBIs and six steals after Aug. 31, a span in which Bell hit .308 with six homers and 21 RBIs. But voters dug the long ball and the RBI (Bell finished second and first, respectively, in the categories). The balloting likely forced Trammell to wait at least a decade to punch his ticket to Cooperstown. An MVP to go along with his elite all-around production at shortstop almost surely would have removed any doubt from his candidacy during his time on the writer’s ballot.

HOW LOADED WAS THIS RACE? Holy moley, let us count the ways. Puckett, a future first-ballot Hall of Famer, finished third. Molitor, another future first-ballot Hall of Famer, produced a 39-game hitting streak — the longest by an American League player since Joe DiMaggio’s record 56-game streak in 1941 and the longest by any player over the last four decades — and finished fifth. McGwire, the unanimous Rookie of the Year, shattered the rookie record for home runs and finished sixth. Mattingly hit a big league record six grand slams and tied the big league record by homering in seven straight games and finished seventh. Boggs, the third future first-ballot Hall of Famer in the top 10, hit a career-high 24 homers and led the AL in OPS and position player WAR and finished ninth. Darrell Evans, at age 40, finished with the second-most RBIs (99) and third-most homers (34) of his 21-year career and finished 12th. Clemens, with a season that was by many measures better than his MVP/Cy Young-award winning campaign a season earlier, finished 19th. Future Hall of Famer Morris tied for 20th with Sierra, who hit 30 homers and finished with 109 RBIs while leading the league in at-bats (643) at age 21 and turning his baseball card into a must-have investment for teenagers everywhere. Speaking of baseball card investments, Canseco, in his pre 40-40 season, finished tied for 23rd.

DETROIT, MI – SEPTEMBER 13: Manager Paul Molitor #4 (L) of the Minnesota Twins poses for a photo … [+] with former Detroit Tigers pitcher Jack Morris and former Tigers shortstop Alan Trammell (R) prior to the game between the Tigers and Twins at Comerica Park on September 13, 2016 in Detroit, Michigan. The Twins defeated the Tigers 8-1. (Photo by Mark Cunningham/MLB Photos via Getty Images)

MLB Photos via Getty Images

IF WE DID THIS TODAY: Bell might not even finish in the top five. The decidedly one-dimensional Blue Jays outfielder ranked 10th amongst position players in WAR. Trammell’s late surge for a playoff team probably would have put him over the top. It’s hard not to see Boggs finishing in the top three, at the least, with that outrageous WAR and OPS. Knowing what we know know about the remarkable nature of Molitor’s hitting streak, he probably moves up despite playing just 118 games. And Clemens, with a far higher WAR in 1987 (9.4) than 1986 (8.8), probably finishes in the top five despite the Red Sox going 78-84.

1.) Trammell

2.) Boggs

3.) Molitor

4.) Bell

5.) Clemens

1987 NL MVP VOTING

1.) Andre Dawson (.287-49 HRs-137 RBIs-11 SBs-.896 OPS-4.0 WAR)

2.) Ozzie Smith (.303-0-75-43 SBs-.775 OPS-6.4 WAR)

3.) Jack Clark (.286-35-106-1.055 OPS-5.4 WAR)

4.) Tim Wallach (.298-26-123-.858 OPS-4.3 WAR)

5.) Will Clark (.308-35-91-.951 OPS-4.2 WAR)

6.) Darryl Strawberry (.284-39-104-36 SBs-.981 OPS-6.4 WAR)

7.) Tim Raines (.330-18-68-50 SBs-.955 OPS-6.7 WAR)

8.) Tony Gwynn (.370-7-54-56 SBs-.958 OPS-8.6 WAR)

9.) Eric Davis (.293-37-100-50 SBs-.991 OPS-7.9 WAR)

10.) Howard Johnson (.265-36-99-32 SBs-.868 OPS-4.4 WAR)

OTHER NOTABLES: 11.) Dale Murphy; 14.) Mike Schmidt

CHICAGO – 1987: Andre Dawson of the Chicago Cubs bats during an MLB game at Wrigley Field in … [+] Chicago, Illinois during the 1987 season. (Photo by Ron Vesely/MLB Photos via Getty Images)

Getty Images

REAL-TIME REACTION: Voters dug the long ball, the RBI and the narrative, understandably so. Dawson was frozen out on the free agent market by the colluding owners until he literally presented the Cubs with a blank check. They penciled in “$500,000” and were rewarded with an NL-leading 49 homers and 137 RBIs. Even performing for a last-place team wasn’t enough to keep Dawson from becoming the 21st straight player to win the MVP after leading his league in homers and RBIs. (The previous player to lead his league in homers and RBIs and not win the MVP was Ted Williams who won the Triple Crown in 1947 yet lost the MVP to Joe DiMaggio) In retrospect, it’s surprising this was as close as it was. Dawson (11 first place votes and 269 points overall) outpaced Smith (nine first place votes and 193 points overall) by a decent margin despite getting just two more first-place votes.

HOW LOADED WAS THIS RACE? Holy moley, squared. You thought the AL race was good? Four Hall of Famers had monster seasons — including Smith, who became the first player to finish with at least 75 RBIs and 6.0 WAR without a homer since 1906. Will Clark, in his first full season and with that gorgeous left-handed swing, became the first player age 23 or younger to hit at least .300 with 35 homers and 90 RBIs since Orlando Cepeda did it for the Giants in 1961. Raines missed the first month of the season due to collusion and barely slowed down after going 4-for-5 with an extra-inning grand slam in his debut against the Mets on May 2. He ended up setting career highs in homers and OPS despite the late start — and also won the All-Star Game MVP by breaking a scoreless tie with a two-run triple in the 13th inning. Only two players — Joe Morgan twice and Rickey Henderson once — ever stole at least 56 bases with a better success rate and a higher OPS than Gwynn, whose 82 walks were a career-high and his 35 strikeouts his second-highest single-season whiff total. And for all that, Raines and Gwynn finished seventh and eighth in the MVP balloting!

OAKLAND, CA – JULY 14: Tim Raines #30 of the Montreal Expos leads off first base as Mark McGwire #25 … [+] of the Oakland Athletics holds him on during the 58th Major League Baseball All-Star Game at Oakland-Alameda County Coliseum on July 14, 1987, in Oakland California. (Photo by MLB via Getty Images) Local Caption *** Tim Raines;Mark McGwire

MLB via Getty Images

And have we mentioned the bottom half of the top 10 had THREE 30-30 players? It was the first season in which there were even TWO 30-30 players, and none of them finished in the top five, even though Strawberry and Johnson were playing for the defending World Series champions in the biggest media market in the land and even though Davis is the only player to ever finish with at least 35 homers and 50 stolen bases and spent part of 1987 as — I am not exaggerating here — the greatest player the game has ever seen. From June 11, 1986 through June 10, 1987, Davis hit .306 with 43 homers, 114 RBIs and 91 stolen bases in 147 games for an OPS of 1.025. Now, I’m getting a little creative, but this 12-month span demands it. Do you know how many players have stolen at least 90 bases and hit at least 10 homers in a season? Three. And none hit more than 12 (Harry Stovey in 1890). The only player to finish a full season with at least 90 steals and an OPS of higher than 1.025 was Billy Hamilton — not the current one, the one whose career ended in 1901. And for all that, Davis finished NINTH in the MVP balloting! (He did hit a mere .279 with 17 homers, 45 RBIs, 24 steals and a .912 OPS while missing 26 of the Reds’ final 104 games).

IF WE DID THIS TODAY: Forget possibly not finishing in the top five, a la Bell. Dawson would almost surely fall to sixth or lower. Figure Smith’s defensive wizardry and robust WAR for a division winner would put him over the top. Advanced metrics would be far kinder to Gwynn today, though the race for second would be tight with the Clarks, both of whom played for division winners while Gwynn played for the NL-worst Padres, who lost 97 games. And geez, who to pick for fifth between Raines’ mammoth five months and Davis’ historical stretch?

1.) Smith

2.) Jack Clark

3.) Gwynn

4.) Will Clark

5.) Davis

Source link

Tags: 1987, Baseballs, league, Major, MVP, races, Revisiting

from WordPress https://ift.tt/2Ybu69k via IFTTT

#IFTTT #WordPress #Asfeed.in #asfeed #asfeedin #asfeed blog

0 notes

uncpanda · 8 years ago

Text

Robin’s Nest: Part 15

Prompt: Where the robin’s were Bruce’s and Batmom’s biological kids

Words: 732

AN: I want to get a kind of fluffy chapter in, and this is what happened. In the next chapter we’ll start seeing the story move along again.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12 , Part 13, Part 14

After thirty-six years of life, nearly twenty years of marriage, seven kids, and several years of crime fighting, you like to think you’ve learned some things. For instance, if you let one kid fight crime, eventually the others are going to want to as well. And if you set a bedtime for one, you have to set a bedtime for all of them. And if one of you gets sick, you’re ALL going to get sick.

It starts with Damian and Helena. You try to quarantine it right off the bat; after the first sniffle. You barricade them in their room, and you keep everyone in the family away from them. You’re the only one allowed in and out.

The rest of the family takes up residence in the batcave. The family motto becomes ‘distance is your friend.’ You see the rest of your family very little over the next few days, until Bruce sends you a text asking you to come down.

More than a bit tired from taking care of two sick kids, you trudge downstairs to find four more. Tim looks absolutely miserable, slumped over the computer in his Robin uniform, Dick is shivering, Jason is groaning, and Cass is curled up on the gurney in a little ball.

You and Bruce share a look, he removes the cowl and picks up Tim and Cass, and makes his way upstairs while you guide Jason and Dick. You and Bruce call out of work for the rest of the week and spend your days taking care of your kids. The only ones you were able to save were Alfred and Terry.

The butler had been kind enough to take the four year old to a hotel when the first symptoms had made themselves known. With Terry being so young, and Alfred being older, you hadn’t wanted either of them catching the flu. So you had sent them packing.

For a week you dealt with upset stomachs, fevers, chills, congestion, and sore throats. By the end of the tenth day, you and Bruce were ready to die yourselves, but you both keep going. Because that’s what parents do.

“I want to die,” you murmur, face down into your pillow.

Bruce rests his head on your back, “If you go, I’m going with you. You’re not leaving me here alone.”

You turn over, so that his head is resting against your belly. You run your fingers through his hair, “Not an option.”

“Damn.”

“You said it, buddy. But in the grand scheme of things, we were kind of due. We haven’t had an outbreak since before Terry was born.”

“Still, I hate to see them suffer.”

“A parent’s worst nightmare is to see their kid in pain.”

“And yet, we let our kids run around as masked vigilantes.”

You laugh, “They take after their father.”

Bruce smiles, “They keep evolving and changing too. Dick’s almost as tall as me now, and Jason is getting there. Tim is a string bean if I’ve ever seen one, and have you seen how long Cass’ hair has gotten?”

You smile. In the four years since the doppelgangers had vanished you’d watched as your sons evolved. Dick had become Nightwing, Jason had become the Red Hood, Cass was BlackBat, and Tim was the latest Robin.

You nudge Bruce, “Helena told me yesterday that she wants to be the next Robin, and then Damian started arguing saying that he was going to be the next Robin. It would have been cute had they both not had fevers.”

Bruce just sighs, “Are we doing the right thing?”

Your hand stills in his hair for a second before starting again, “I think the time to have asked that question has long passed Bruce. Our family is made up of crime fighters, I find that it’s better not to question it.”

Bruce just nods, before sitting up, then he’s leaning over you and kissing you. His fingers tangle in your hair and you clutch him close. He whispers in your ear, “I love you so much.” He peppers your face with kisses, “Thank you for loving me, and marrying me, giving me seven beautiful children, and for putting up with Batman. Thank your for existing.”

You pull him in and kiss him again, “I love you Bruce Wayne. Don’t you ever forget that.”

He just smiles and kisses you again.

Ages at the end of this chapter

Bruce and Batmom- 36

Dick-15

Jason- 14

Tim- 11

Damian and Helena- 8

Terry- 4

Cass-10

650 notes · View notes

entmtbiz · 8 years ago

Text

Johnnie Walker Releases Whisky Of The Future, Inspired By Blade Runner 2049

Limited Edition Johnnie Walker Black Label The Director's Cut Celebrates Spirit of Progress and Brand's Legacy in The Film

NEW YORK, Sept. 28, 2017 /PRNewswire/ -- Johnnie Walker is excited to announce the official release of Johnnie Walker Black Label The Director's Cut - a limited-edition whisky developed in collaboration with visionary Blade Runner 2049 director Denis Villeneuve and Johnnie Walker Master Blender Jim Beveridge. The new blend comes thirty-five years after Johnnie Walker Black Label appeared in the original Blade Runner film as an iconic whisky of the future.

Experience the interactive Multichannel News Release here: http://ift.tt/2yocDdH

The unique, custom blend and the futuristic bottle were created in partnership with Blade Runner 2049, opening in theaters October 6 (release dates may vary, check listings locally). Both showcase Johnnie Walker's commitment to progress and Alcon Entertainment's dedication to maintaining the legacy of the original sci-fi classic. Fans first saw a peek of the new bottle at Alcon Entertainment's Blade Runner 2049 Experience presented by Johnnie Walker at San Diego Comic-Con. The bottle will also appear in the new film.

To celebrate the promotional collaboration surrounding the film, Johnnie Walker has released four digital vignettes featuring Villeneuve, who discusses the project. "Like many fans, I remember the Johnnie Walker bottle from the first film, so it was a unique privilege to collaborate with Johnnie Walker on designing a totally original, custom bottle for the new movie," he says. "It was also a once-in-a-lifetime experience to help create the limited-edition Director's Cut blend, which perfectly captures the complex and mysterious world of Blade Runner 2049."

Beveridge noted, "What we have created in Johnnie Walker Black Label The Director's Cut is something really special that fans will be able to relate to and whisky drinkers will love. I was truly inspired by Villeneuve's artistic vision for Blade Runner 2049 and how it could come to life in this new blend. I learned that filmmaking is much like blending--you have to constantly be committed to creating the best possible outcome. Johnnie Walker blending tradition dates back to 1820 and I'm honored to carry on the legacy and collective memory of our other past blenders to ensure that the same whisky enjoyed today can be enjoyed responsibly in 2049."

Johnnie Walker has created a series of cocktail videos featuring five innovative Blade Runner 2049-inspired cocktails: The Deckard; Ode to Dreams; Penicillin 2049; Quest; and Ahara. These custom cocktails are prepared by some of the country's leading bartenders, including Ezra Star and Tenzin Samdo of Boston and Sam Anderson of New York City, giving fans a taste of the upcoming film.

Only 39,000 bottles of Johnnie Walker Black Label The Director's Cut have been produced and will be available in select countries around the world while supplies last. The rich, smooth blend has aromatic and vanilla flavors, with clouds of smokiness and will be bottled at 49% ABV - a nod to the futuristic period in which Blade Runner 2049 is set.

Whatever the century, whatever the universe, Johnnie Walker's commitment to the spirit of human progress endures. As we toast to the future, the makers of Johnnie Walker remind you to enjoy your whisky responsibly.

Johnnie Walker Black Label The Director's Cut is available for Blade Runner fans in the US and other select countries with an SRP from $89.99. Prices may vary.

About Johnnie Walker Black Label The Director's Cut Johnnie Walker Black Label The Director's Cut is a new, experimental Scotch Whisky created by Master Blender Jim Beveridge in collaboration with visionary filmmaker Denis Villeneuve. The limited-edition blend is inspired by Villeneuve's hugely anticipated film Blade Runner 2049 and is housed in a unique and futuristic bottle.

Johnnie Walker Black Label The Director's Cut is a dark, rich, smooth blend, with sweet fruity vanilla flavours and clouds of smokiness. It is bottled at 49% ABV as a nod to the futuristic period in which Blade Runner 2049 is set.

About Johnnie Walker Johnnie Walker is the world's number one Scotch Whisky brand, enjoyed by people in over 180 countries around the world. Since the time of its founder, John Walker, those who blend its whiskies have pursued flavour and quality above else.

Six generations of skilled Master Blenders have pioneered and crafted bold new flavours that have transformed a small Scottish grocery store business, founded in 1820, into an international whisky business selling stylish, authentic, and iconic blends.

Today's range of award-winning whiskies includes Johnnie Walker Red Label, Black Label, Double Black, Green Label, Gold Label Reserve, Aged 18 Years and Blue Label. Together they account for nearly 19 million cases sold annually (IWSR, 2016), making Johnnie Walker the most popular Scotch Whisky brand in the world.

About Diageo Diageo is a global leader in beverage alcohol with an outstanding collection of brands including Johnnie Walker, Crown Royal, J&B, Buchanan's and Windsor whiskies, Smirnoff and Ciroc vodkas, Captain Morgan, Baileys, Don Julio, Tanqueray and Guinness.

Diageo is listed on both the London Stock Exchange (DGE) and the New York Stock Exchange (DEO) and our products are sold in more than 180 countries around the world. For more information about Diageo, our people, our brands, and performance, visit us at www.diageo.com. Visit Diageo's global responsible drinking resource, www.DRINKiQ.com, for information, initiatives, and ways to share best practice.

Celebrating life, every day, everywhere.

About Blade Runner 2049: From Oscar-nominated director Denis Villeneuve (Arrival) comes Alcon Entertainment's science fiction thriller Blade Runner 2049, the much-anticipated sequel to the acclaimed sci-fi film Blade Runner.

Thirty years after the events of the first film, a new blade runner, LAPD Officer K, unearths a long-buried secret that has the potential to plunge what's left of society into chaos. K's discovery leads him on a quest to find Rick Deckard, a former LAPD blade runner who has been missing for 30 years.

The film stars Oscar nominees Ryan Gosling (La La Land) as K, and Harrison Ford (Witness, the Star Wars films), reprising the role of Rick Deckard. The international cast also includes Ana de Armas (War Dogs), Sylvia Hoeks (Renegades), Robin Wright (Wonder Woman), Mackenzie Davis (Halt and Catch Fire), Carla Juri (Brimstone), and Lennie James (The Walking Dead), with Dave Bautista (the Guardians of the Galaxy films) and Oscar winner Jared Leto (Dallas Buyers Club).

Blade Runner 2049 was produced by Oscar nominees Andrew A. Kosove & Broderick Johnson (The Blind Side) and Bud Yorkin & Cynthia Yorkin. Ridley Scott, who directed the first Blade Runner, served as an executive producer, together with Tim Gamble, Frank Giustra, Yale Badick, Val Hill and Bill Carraro. Villeneuve directed the film from a screenplay by Hampton Fancher and Michael Green, story by Fancher, based on characters from the novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick.

Opening on October 6, 2017 (release dates may vary, check listings locally), in 2D and 3D in select theaters and IMAX, "Blade Runner 2049" is a presentation of Alcon Entertainment and will be distributed domestically by Warner Bros. Pictures, a Warner Bros. Entertainment Company, and internationally by Sony Pictures Entertainment.

http://ift.tt/2uIuhbc

About Sony Pictures Entertainment: Sony Pictures Entertainment (SPE) is a subsidiary of Sony Entertainment Inc., which is a subsidiary of Tokyo-based Sony Corporation. SPE's global operations encompass motion picture production, acquisition, and distribution; television production, acquisition, and distribution; television networks; digital content creation and distribution; operation of studio facilities; and development of new entertainment products, services and technologies. SPE's Motion Picture Group includes film labels Columbia Pictures, TriStar Pictures, Screen Gems, Sony Pictures Animation, and Sony Pictures Classics. For additional information, visit http://ift.tt/L1d9Tv.

PLEASE DRINK RESPONSIBLY. Imported by Diageo, Norwalk, CT.

Read this news on PR Newswire Asia website: Johnnie Walker Releases Whisky Of The Future, Inspired By Blade Runner 2049

#Entertainment

0 notes

afni-fics · 4 years ago

Text

In Hindsight: Chapter 4: Fifteen Years Earlier... Chained

In Hindsight: Chapter 4: Fifteen Years Earlier... Chained by C_R_Scott Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tim Drake/Tam Fox, Jack Drake/Janet Drake, Janet Drake & Tim Drake, Jack Drake & Tim Drake, Lucius Fox/Tanya Fox, Tim Drake & Tam Fox Characters: Tim Drake, Tam Fox, Janet Drake, Jack Drake, Lucius Fox, Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Tim Drake-centric, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Family Feels, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Childhood Memories, Childhood Sweethearts, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Good Parent Janet Drake, Bad Parent Jack Drake, no beta we die like robins, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Story Summary:

What if bleeding out in a Middle Eastern hotel room was not the first time Timothy Drake-Wayne and Tamara Fox met? What if they were actually childhood best friends, but life and circumstance forced them apart for years to the point of forgetting each other?

Concept/Prompt: What if Tim Drake was originally raised by his maternal grandmother for the first eight years of his life due to "circumstances" involving his biological parents? What if Tim's grandmother was also the next door neighbor and occasional sitter for Lucius Fox's family?

Chapter Summary: Susan Klein and her daughter have just returned home after spending the last five hours at Gotham Children's Hospital with her barely two-year old grandson. A breaking point is about to be reached.

"Why don't you leave him?"

"I still love him."

"He threw a glass at you while you were holding your son!"

"It was an... accident."

"Timber has six stitches and a bottle of prescription pain meds that don't care if it was an 'accident' or not, which we both know it wasn't!"

Though Susan and Janet were trying very hard to stay quiet as they whispered to each other outside the closed door to Timothy's bedroom in Susan's home, the Klein matriarch struggled to control her volume as the conversation persisted. Recognizing this, she took a step away from her daughter to recompose herself.

Then she motioned for the stairs with a sharp snap of her hand.

As she led her only daughter into the kitchen, they both heard the old grandfather clock chime the midnight hour. They had only just gotten home from Gotham Children's Hospital thirty minutes prior.

"Janie," Susan started as she started filling a teapot with water. "This can't keep happening." After setting the pot on the stove, she leaned against it heavily as she before finally turning on the heat. Then she finally looked at her daughter. "This is the third visit to the ER for him in six months."

Janet Drake nee Klein sat at the breakfast table with her face buried in her hands. "I know."

"Someone's going to report this to CPS soon, if they haven't already tonight."

"I know!" Janet snapped, though the sob in her tone cut any heat that might have initially been behind the words. She bowed her head. "I know," she murmured sadly.

Susan studied her daughter with a critical eye. "You say you can't leave him because you 'love' him, but I know you Janie. What's the real reason you won't leave him?"

Janet shook her head before burying her face in her hands. "He won't give me a get. He won't let me divorce him, and he threatened to fight for full custody of Tim if I force a hearing before the rabbinical court."

As the tea kettle started whistling, Susan venomously cursed the name of her monstrous son-in-law. How DARE he use her daughter's beloved faith as a weapon to against her!

As she turned off the stove and pulled the tea kettle up so she could pour the hot water into her teacups, Susan's mind was working. A solution formed as she watched the fragrant bloom of auburn seep from the teabags into the clear water. It was not an ideal solution. However, while she couldn't do anything her agunah daughter, at least not in this moment, perhaps...

"Janie. I know you're chained to Jack, but would he care if you left Timothy for me to raise?" Susan looked at Janet with grim resolve as her daughter raised her head.

Though her initial expression was stricken, slowly it smoothed over into a stoic resignation. She wiped the tears from her eyes. "I can convince him. It wouldn't be hard." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Timber deserves to grow up safe and free and-" Tears welled up in Janet's eyes again. "-and in a house full of love without fear."

Susan set a teacup in from of her daughter, then bent close to hug her tightly.

Author's Notes:

The Klein household is one of Jewish faith. Janet's religion was always very important to her growing up and into her adulthood. So when she married Jack, it was a traditional Jewish wedding ceremony.

Unfortunately, because it was a traditional Jewish ceremony, seeking a divorce is not a simple matter for her as the wife. In order for her to get a divorce, in keeping with her religion, she needs her husband (Jack) to "grant" her the divorce with a document called a "get" of his own free will. Without the "get", Janet would be unable to remarry, and any children born afterwards with a different man would be considered illegitimate in the eyes of her faith.

In this AU, Jack is an abusive controlling husband, and he refuses to allow his wife to leave him. This has made her an "agunah" or "chained woman" who is now trapped in her religious marriage to Jack.

However, while Jack refuses to allow Janet to leave him, he doesn't really care for his son. Since Tim is so young, Jack actually resents how much time Janet has to spend focused on the boy rather than him. So when Janet offers the option of sending their son to be raised by her mother, so they can have the "freedom" to spend more time together just the two of them on archaeological digs and other work projects, Jack is open to the idea because Janet is voluntarily offering to put focusing on him above caring for Tim.

This, of course, isn't really the case. Janet's primary concern is Tim's safety and wellbeing. She doesn't want to risk her son getting abused (or worse) by Jack, and she is willing to sacrifice her own safety and happiness to make sure he grows up safe and loved, even if she can't be there for him.

#tim drake#tam fox#tim/tam#red robin#fanfiction#wip#rr: in hindsight#batfam#batfamily#lucius fox#bruce wayne

#rr: in hindsight #tim drake #tam fox #janet drake #tim/tam #red robin #fanfiction #wip #batfam #batfamily

8 notes · View notes