#villain talia al ghul

[msfcatlover]

Rating: T

Pairings: Gen (no ship)

Major tags: Misunderstandings, Villain Talia al Ghul, Jason Todd is Tim Drake’s Robin, Pit Madness, Open/Ambiguous Ending, Whump, Hurt No Comfort (technically), If you ship it please don’t tell me

Special: Inspired by Bait and Switch by iselsis

The worst kinds of criminal haven't been enough to make Jason give in and go full supervillain. Talia decides to get more personal, and bring in his replacement.

I don’t normally promo my response/inspired fics over her, but fuck it. I could use more positive feedback, if you can give it.

I took iselsis’s unfinished fic “Bait and Switch”—where Talia tries to get Jason to give in to pit madness by dragging in Tim—and retold it from Tim’s perspective, including how Tim ended up there, what Tim’s unspecified injuries were, and what Tim’s thought process was throughout the whole thing. Since the original fic was unfinished, this one ends on a bit of a cliffhanger, but if you read the original you know the “Hurt No Comfort” tag is almost entirely because of the “Misunderstandings” one, and Tim’s going to be fine.

Also, because it apparently needs to be said despite me tagging the fic with it, Jason is Tim’s Robin in this story. Don’t like that headcanon? Don’t read the fic. There, I’ve just given you a fun & easy life hack to make both of our days better!

[incorrectbatfam]

Damian: So what are we going to do this summer, Mother?

Talia: The same thing we do every summer, habibi.

Damian: Try to take over the world?

Bruce: Yeah that settles it, you two are not allowed to be left alone together.

[mythoughtfulwindow]

Talia PFP comm!

[acid-ixx]

〔00〕 — 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌 : perfect perception

DIRECTORY: concept, chapter 00, chapter 01

it was always just you, and your family.

just you, your mother, twin brother, and grandfather. the puzzle is complete, there is no need for an extra couple of pieces to add on to your already satiated life. there is no need to work hard, or to endure painful endeavors to attain what you want; not when your family would complete it all for you.

it wasn't like you could, or should, complain, no? you have everything granted to you from when you were born. scarred hands, jagged figure, weary eyes; those aren't necessary for a person like you, who will always be sheltered, in both cozy blankets and loving arms. oblivious to the cruel world and pesting hands that claw on innocent beings like you.

a steady house life, a mother who shielded your innocence from all the bloodshed within the family's ordeals, who read to you fairytales, who had you sleep in her bed when you feared, when you foresaw what you thought were monsters under your bed. instead of inhibiting hatred for an heir who'd flinch at raising hands and the sound of clanging swords, she encouraged your meak demeanor and even spoiled tantrums. she runs her hands across your silky tresses, and kisses your forehead a thousand times if you'd even mention it in a passing moment. she dresses you in jewels, in velvety, silky clothes, and bathes you in toys and gifts you never seem to ask for. your little body sleeps on her chest, and listen the steady beat of her heart, calm and beating, all for you.

you teach her softness, and the joys of being a mother. a concept foreign in her eyes, raised opposite to you. she sees herself in you, and projects what should've been her childhood to her youngest twin child.

you have a twin brother, who, despite being born only a few minutes before you, was significantly older than you, both mentally and spiritually. from the moment he was taken into the world, his duty to take all your pain away and to become your very light was established. and like the warrior he is, he takes that daunting task and transforms it into motivation. he is your knight in shining armor, the prince who catches you when you fall, the one who braves your nightmares, the swordman to your royalty. he trains, all day and night, from such a young age to protect you from unnecessary dangers he understood even his mother fears you'd be subjected to. he does not complain, he does not find reasons to gripe; he takes the scars, the bruises, the punishments and missions all in stride. if it meant seeing you happy and unaware from all the cruelty of living; then so be it. as long as, by the end of the day, he comes back to your shared room to find your tiny form drawing a childish imagery of the little family you love and cherish.

you teach him compassion, vulnerability, and share with him the admiration for arts.

then there is your grandfather. a hardened leader, a monster to all those who serve, but an idol in the eyes of oblivious you. he justifies violence in the wake of achieving his goals, he doesn't tolerate mankind's treatment of nature and its animals, and takes the lives of those who dares oppose. but you are treated differently, like glass that shatters at the softest of hits. his words are sugarcoated and stripped down to the most infantine of comprehension, his eyes are soft every time he kneels to your level to gently request that you return to your room. ra's does not kneel, he does not plead, he does not stoop to those younger than him. but to you, naive and dewy-eyed, akin to a fawn hiding behind a mother's legs, he does. every week, he takes in various experts in the field of teaching to become your mentors in whatever passion you have. he is the foundation of your growth, and he prides himself in that regard.

from him, you learn your love of animals. from you, he learns of weakness, and defeat to such platonic desires.

with your little family, you are happy. you never have to find reasons to complain about food, clothes, or any luxuries their family, akin to royalty, could obtain. you have a family smothering you in affection, attention, to the point where all you have to do is smile at the slightest thing and notice how they melt to your whims.

you were never alone when you didn't want to, you were always guarded, safe, and constantly served.

as you should, as it always should be.

and it was a routine you were used to. you never complained, you never pondered beyond primitive knowledge, you had never desired for more, or wanted less. life was normal despite the strange arrangements with servants always being by your beck and call, or how your brother would always seem to come seeking you after another day of "hard work" your mother doesn't permit you to try, with gashes that litter his tan skin and usually sharp eyes, still fixed with a glare though softened once your arms come to coddle him as a reward.

he finds comfort in your hold. it never once registered within you his ever-growing strength and how his hold on you would always seem to to tighten whenever a potential friend would pass by.

yet you are loved either way, you are cared for. what more is there to ask when you have and always been the singular pearl dripping with grace, poise, and a softness beyond the brutish weapons swung within the training grounds your brother finds himself in.

you are loved by everybody: by your mother, by your brother, by your grandfather, and you're the necessary voice that calls out mercy for whenever a servant would be punished for maintaining a less than satisfactory performance when it comes to serving you. you're the light of reason beyond instictive swings of the sword and the impulsive raise of a voice demanding for battle to settle a deal; biting your lips in disappointment every time your mother attempts to punish a small mistake a servant would do right in front of you.

although certain voices in the hallways find your presence... unsavory, out of place, or they simply pity you; whispers filtering through the kind words everyone else never withdraws from you— nonetheless, they'd have no choice but to obey your childish whims, to smile at you, to be kind and diligent to your emotions.

everything is perfect.

yes, yes it is. an undeniable fact within the factions of your heart. you ignore the subtle strain within your chest, the way the emptiness becomes blatant, and the misunderstood desire for something else... something greater, far beyond the honor of your current family; and replace it with temporary joy.

a joy that softly smiles at the piling gifts, a joy that teaches itself to be good, to be grateful, and to dismiss the ever-changing spotlight you have for your family.

to ignore their hushed whispers whenever your small, eight-year old form with wide eyes, holding a toy between your chest, inquire about what they're discussing with that requires such... strained air and ridged poses.

to ignore their careful words, their gentle hands that pats your hair, that beckons you to come to a different room, and the irritation and bubbling tantrums paired with the heat that wraps your boiling thoughts and clenching hands.

you ignore, and try to neglect that growing ache that insurmountably never passes.

even if you lay in bed every night, unable to sleep, gaining consciousness slowly but surely after another day passes.

you ignore, and dismiss, and it all becomes a cycle that you ought to never break, to never rupture with childish curiosity and the thirst for wisdom.

... because everything is perfect.

everything is perfect. like the candlelight beams of the moon dancing through victorian styled windows, fluttering past the curtains to kiss your resting body every night you lay sleeping on a king-sized mattress, surrounded by soft, cotton plushies and silky, cool blankets as your brother coddles you; your head laying on his chest like routine.

it is perfect like the gardens of flowers all planted with your favorites, an array of colors harmoniously dancing to the sway of traversing winds and bumbling pollinators.

it is perfect like the daily hustle and bustle of your servants, buzzing through wide spans of hallways with their voices mingling through busy air and the wafting scent of a new delicacy your mother ornately chose for you to try.

everything was perfect, until it wasn't.

until the illusion of completeness, of unity and satisfaction were shattered like the bones of your brother's opponents, powderized to mere dust.

until you take notice of the hollow piece in your heart, until your servant mentions a father (a word so foreign, so similar to mother... but different all the same) in mere passing when you two had conversed whilst they were tying your shoes.

at first, you didn't pay a mind, proposing to yourself that you'd ask your mother instead after you've finished your daily assignments.

but then, unlike every other time where you dismissed, ignored and forgot— you began to ponder.

the word, the meaning, its possible etymology and every historical relationship it might've contained; a lesson your brilliant mentor taught you, one that served as a paveway for curious, little you, to investigate.

a trait you're sure nobody really tackled within your family.

if that is so, then where does your stubbornness, your drive to seek answers, come from?

you try to solve the puzzle pieces, ones you thought were never present in your life, your mind wracking through stored memories of a young, prying individual like you; until you came to a conclusion.

does it possibly come from a... father?

father...?

father?

father.

... your brother, too, said the same word.

when he was tired and beat from his training, when all he wanted was a singular hug, whose hands were stained with dripping ichor and knees bruised from hitting upon rocky ground. his emerald eyes were seeking your presence, and you find how his delirious state, itching for calm after another stormy trial of missions, was abnormal; unlike you who flinched at the dizzying scent of blood.

too mature, now you've noticed. a presence that exudes superiority, that takes the lives of those who rebel, that punishes anything less than perfect; that only softens, whose shoulders only sag when he takes in your presence within the same room as him— traits too foreign in the midst of a brother the same age as you.

so when you denied him of oasis, when your young brain was too scared, too worried and all the more wishing for answers on why he always comes back bleeding and injured, rejecting his offer for you to come closer— he all but seethes, and instead sighs; watching your quivering lips and the igniting fight in your eyes, a shaded mixture of your mother's and his.

"you're exactly like what mother told me. stubborn like our father when inconsolable... but i love you too much, akhi/akhti, to care for your lesser."

he muttered under his breath, emerald eyes gleaming under moonlit glow as he looks at you, emotions too miscellaneous beyond the swirling pools of green that always keeps a watch on you.

sometimes, he feels less like a brother and more of a knight. sometimes, you wish to rebel and instead dig deep into what's been happening to your brother these past few years, shaped by experience you never once caught yourself transpiring through. sometimes, you wish he doesn't treat you like a glass ornament.

sometimes, you wish you had a normal family.

as much as his words were sweet, as much as you would've felt warmth at the mere affection and exception he holds you in regard to his heart, even if he takes your body in his arms prior to your previous rejection, all but melting and rocking your body to sleep; a common method he utilizes to make you feel drowsy, and to eventually forget the blood on his sheathed sword and sinful hands once your eyes drift to a close—

you still reflect upon his words even if weeks had already passed by after that incident, even if he must've thought your somnolence was enough to dismiss whatever was the 'grammatical' mistake he'd mumbled that night was a product of fatigue after a long day of work.

... because despite being the perfect family, despite the love and care they foster within your heart; washing off the beating emptiness in your chest was harder than any injuries you've obtained after momentary clumsiness.

at least you knew when those scars were incurred, at least you had people to comfort you through the tears that escaped through your eyes.

but this immaterial emptiness has long since festered within the confines of your caged soul.

it beckons you to choose rebellion, it traps your thumping heart and tightens its hold on it, snaring it in a pit you couldn't crawl yourself out of.

desire drives you further away from delusion, from the foundations of weaved lies and rose-tinted picturesque perfection.

and you began to crave satiation to at least mend the missing puzzle piece in your heart; piece by piece, stitch by stitch.

who is your father? what is a father? why did dami told me i'm like... our father?

as you sit alone in your bed, toys long forgotten, alone with only the cool breeze fluttering by your window to accompany you. the questions begin to grate at your mind, yet all you do is bring your knees closer to your chest, lips dry at the forgone isolation you put yourself through after a cycle of endless thinking.

"momma will be here soon," you mutter to yourself. your voice, meek and highly pitched, young and cradling childish curiosity; it breaks at the seams when your fingers bring itself to touch and wipe away at wet cheeks and tender, aching eyes.

dami was right; you are stubborn like your father.

because even if they try all necessary means to shroud your life in seclusion from reality— you don't easily back out of a losing fight.

even if the tears you shed from the lack of progress were insurmountable, even if you knew you were at a physical disadvantage shall push come to shove where you'd have to fight your dearest brother, even if it means struggling against the invisible shackle your beloved family locked you in.

because your perfect perception of your fucked up family has long since dissipated from the moment your servant and your brother mentioned a foreign word.

a simple word, a small mistake, yet acting as a newer path of life that long since diverged from the only way you knew how to live.

and you still wish to solve the mystery of your forlorn emptiness.

will you give up just so easily? would the tears you shed all become mere depression?

no, not even as you sit in your too-huge bed, with no clue on where or how to start a hopeless journey; too young to plan, too little to fight, too tenderhearted in the views of your family.

even then, your red, rubbed raw eyes seek to look back on your first hint from within the room

a dictionary was sprawled across the opposite end of the bed, thrown haphazardly, opened to a certain page that highlights words closest to 'father'.

you crawl, with sore arms and wobbly legs, to retrieve the heavy, hard-bound and gold-encased dictionary, lounging on your bed with a damaged spine.

your fingers return to traverse multiple pages yet again—

stubborn, impatient and impulsive.

earlier, it came to you in the form of realization that the dictionary your mentor assigned you to read had a missing word cut precisely with a blade and replaced with an unintelligible one.

earlier, you realized just how much your perfect family was only perfect because they've hidden the truth from you.

earlier should've been years ago, earlier should've never been swept off the rug so easily. but what could an eight year old like you do? you've none of damian's talents to quickly learn, you're raised differently. it is only now you wish you weren't so gullible.

and as your fingers strum against pages, near to ripping out expensive paper, tears unceasing, lips bitten 'til bleeding— you learn, and you grow beyond simple comprehension.

motivation, and the drive to uncover all things unsaid, even if the end would result in something negative.

through them, you'll soon learn of spite, of anguish, and bitter contempt.

but for now, you're merely left alone, with only a mantra of words all circling back to dami's words; so many questions left unanswered.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: honestly don't know half of what i wrote + i don't like this as much as i wanted it to come out. this went through multiple revisions with an added fact of me trying to discern why my writing style keeps fluctuating 😭 guys please comment about what you think of this. if this flops, i'm gonna quit writing LMAO. this is a bit more formal than my usual style (re: again & again) because i wanted to capture the regality of the al ghul's family partly told through the perspective of a child.

taglist: @th0rn118, @obsessedwithromance @rogueofbullshit @ch1cky-093, @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd, @confused-they @biiibs01, @ghostdoodlen, @earlqurl, @chericia, @herebyaccident0, @ilovemyhusbandnanami, @mintynilla, @lilyalone, @anonymousdisco, @plsfckmedxddy, @maria-figueiredo, @143637-hrrm, @neerathebrightstar, @jsprien213, @realifezompire, @sammytheotakunerd, @sh4rk-k1d, @confused-they, @peptox, @lillian-morningstar.

[ourrechte-blog]

A Funny Take on Counterparts

You know the cliche by now, Danny or Jack is a counterpart to Bruce or Superman or the like. Now here's the humorous take

Danny, who for some reason has the white hair from Phantom Planet is teaching Dani some ninja moves he learns from the time traveling

And then this guy and his daughter falls out the Fenton Portal

Being the gremlin that Dani is and eager to test out her moves, attacks the intruder. Only for the daughter to pull off the exact same move and end up hitting each other face first

Danny and the stranger: Now now, perfectly symmetrical vio...lence...never solved anything

The two turn to look at each other and then repeat that one mirror gag seen in cartoons and then the Fenton parents come down the basement.

Maddie: Danny, isn't your future self suppose to be more muscular?

Danny and the stranger: What?

Maddie: A mother can recognize her own son. *turns to the woman* And you must be grown up Danielle

Woman: You must be mistaken, my name is Talia

[frownyalfred]

Ya'll talking about Ra's had me thinking of the Villain Community as a whole. Is there a Villian Unsaid Hierarchy?

Like heroes get pissed if you off one of their own, but nobody really talks about the Villains' reaction. There have been instances of it happening though.

That episode in BTAS when Batman was 'killed' and all the Villains were targeting the poor civilian that said he did it. Or when EVERYONE was jumping KGBeast for what he did to Nightwing. Than Inertia getting hunted down and killed by Flash's Rogues.

Those at the top of the hierarchy as a whole are villains like Doom, Darksied and Brainiac that can get away with killing anyone. After them the Heirachy is personalized for the hero. For Batman(Batfamily as a whole), it's Joker, than Ra's. Nightwing in my opinion has Deathstroke, Superman has Lex at the top of his and Cheetah at the top of Wonderwoman's.

If a Villain isn't at the very least in the top 3 maybe even top 5 of the Hierarchy, they won't be getting away with killing that hero. The Heroes AND Villains are coming for them. Yea, you can run and hide from the Joker by leaving Gotham but you can't hide from Ra's, that man has all the time in the world.

Go ahead and kill the hero, it'll just make your problems worse. After all, some villains are just small fish in a littler pond hidden away on a hero's island. The true predators are the ones circling it.

I love this. I’ve always wanted to see more about Joker VS Ra’s and Talia when it comes to who feels ownership for Bruce (and sometimes his kids) or even Minhkhoa. The latter two have a better claim of knowing him longer.

I’m dropping this tidbit here since I’m not sure it’ll make it explicitly into eye in the sky but — this is kinda what I imagined happened with Damian when the Justice League fell and the Regime rose to power. I think Ra’s and Talia came for Bruce and Damian, who was maybe trapped with him, because they couldn’t allow an evil Superman to hold them hostage, to reveal his identity so callously, to take him from Earth. But something happened, and they could only ever rescue Damian from the Watchtower — Bruce had to stay behind. Even though Ra’s and Talia would move mountains to free him. And indeed would continue to work with the Insurgency solely to get Bruce out.

[aeturnum-mendacacium]

"NO! PLEASE! ANYONE BUT THE BAT, HIS HIP TO WAIST RATIO IS TOO POWERFULL"

-could be anyone actually

[taliaalghulhub]

Gotham City Villains Anniversary Giant

[gothamite-rambler]

Nyssa: The sister that makes Talia seem sane

Nyssa (an hour into her ranting): Cats and dogs will live together, babies will cry, towers will fall!

Talia: Nyssa.

Nyssa: The humans will consume each other, and the world bleeds—

Talia (sighing, annoyed): Nyssa.

Nyssa: Yes, it bleeds off the edge of this flat earth—

Talia: NYSSA!

Nyssa (irritated): Whaaat?

Talia: I’m not letting you babysit Damian, and not a damn thing you say will cause the apocalypse if I don’t!

Bruce (defending Talia): And the world isn’t flat. I can’t believe I’m on Talia’s side right now.

Talia: I’m surprised, too. Nyssa, stop talking about nonsense theories and leave!

Nyssa: Fools! Only fools believe the world is round. It’s flat! Hidden by a dome force field!

Talia (pointing to the door): Get out.

Nyssa (continuing): The snow giants keep it guarded!

Talia: Get your ass out before you poison my child's mind!

Talia grabbed her ranting sister by the hair and dragged her out of the room.

Nyssa (whining): Hemar, you never let me talk!

As the bickering sisters left, Bruce turned to Ra's, who silently sipped tea while observing the entire exchange. Damian sat nearby, busy coloring a picture he had just drawn, paying his crazy aunt no mind.

Bruce: Huh, Talia is—

Ra's: The saner of the two, yes. I cannot fathom where Nyssa got that level of insanity from.

Ra's suddenly broke into a wheezing fit that lasted ten seconds, a lingering side effect of the Lazarus Pit. Bruce instinctively pulled his son closer, ensuring he was protected.

Bruce (sarcastically): It’s a mystery, I’ll tell you that much.

*hemar is arabic for donkey*

[nefarious-616-necromancer]

[msfcatlover]

Red Hood Steph, casually cutting Damian straight to the bone after he tries to turn Steph back to the light by comparing her to her father: “Well, you know what they say. No matter how far you carry an apple, it’ll still grow into the exact same kind of tree.”

[incorrectbatfam]

Have the Gooners had any direct or indirect encounters with any supervillains?

Interviewer: Tell me why you want to intern at LexCorp.

Booker: LexCorp? The ad said something else.

Interviewer: LexCorp is our parent company.

Booker: I see.

[later that day]

Booker: *finds an ad for criminals wanting an intern*

Booker: Well, it's either this or LexCorp.

Booker: *applies*

———————

Riddler: Behold, my ultimate puzzle!

Riddler: *clicks a remote*

Riddler: Why isn't the screen working?

Henchman: It's the new software update. I'm calling tech support.

Henchman: *calls*

Mac, on the other end: Best Buy Geek Squad, how may I assist you?

———————

[a year ago]

Gene's coworker: Hey Gene, can you do me a favor?

Gene: I would, but I'm totally swamped with this one guy's tax returns.

Gene's coworker: Which one?

Gene: Someone named Harvey Dent. There are so many discrepancies, it's like he's living two lives.

———————

Milo: *driving*

Milo: *sees a pedestrian*

Milo: *slams the brakes and honks*

Harley: Hey, I'm walkin' here!

———————

Otto: Morning, Basil. The usual wash?

Clayface: *nods*

Otto: Sounds good. I'll get your car clay-free in half an hour.

———————

[two years ago]

Cobblepot: Bartender, another drink!

Molly: Sir, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to cut you off.

Cobblepot: Who owns this lounge? Who's paying your salary?

Molly: Fine, what'll it be?

Cobblepot: Our finest red wine, of course.

Molly: Good choice.

Molly: *slips a sedative when he's not looking*

Molly: Here you go. Have a good night.

Cobblepot: What?

Molly: Nothing.

———————

[three years ago]

Talia: For this drill, I want to focus on distance. Team A, take the turrets. Team B, you're on the ground with arrows.

Kellin: *grabs a bow*

Talia: And... fire!

Kellin: *fires an arrow*

*arrow hits an oil lamp*

*lamp falls next to Ra's*

*cape catches fire*

———————

Blaise: *googles how to make his weed plants grow faster*

Blaise: *clicks on a video*

The video: Good afternoon, gardeners and plant lovers. I'm Dr. Pamela Isley and today I'll be showing you how to...

———————

[three years ago]

Scarecrow's assistant: Sir, one of your employees wants to see you.

Scarecrow: Send him in.

Rob: Dr. Crane, I'm Rob Steeler. I'm one of the people who intercepted that shipment containing the last ingredient you need for your new fear gas.

Scarecrow: And what do you need?

Rob: Can these other guys step out of the room? It's kind of personal.

Scarecrow: *waves them out*

Rob: *points a gun at Scarecrow*

Scarecrow: Somebody's feeling fearless.

Rob: Your new formula cost me the love of my life. I can see you reaching under your desk for some fear gas and I'm telling you right now, it won't work because the thing I'm most afraid of already came true.

Scarecrow: So you seek revenge.

Rob: Tempting, but no. I want an out—from you, your organization, and your operations. I don't want you or any of your big-shot Rogue connections to come anywhere near me or my family.

Scarecrow: And if I refuse?

Rob: *shoots the wall behind Scarecrow*

Scarecrow: Very well, have it your way. Best of luck finding any semblance of success. You and I both know you will live and die a common thief.

Rob: We'll revisit that when we meet in hell.

[mythoughtfulwindow]

Talia!

[miissgraysondrake]

Talia Al Ghul in "Batman & Robin & Howard: a Summer breakdown"

By Jeffrey Brown

Colors by Silvana Brys

[dalekofchaos]

"Hello Bruce. Until now, you've lived by one rule. Letting murderers live to kill again. Inflicting harm upon them, but sending them to a prison you know they can, and will escape from, only to maim and murder once again. Do you truly fight for justice, or the mere illusion of it? We’ll find out today. Live or die, Bruce. The choice is yours."

Trap scenarios for Batman. Each trap has a rogue’s gallery theme “ice trap for Mr Freeze / Poison for Ivy / Save two batkids at same time for two face” The gist is simple. Bruce has to choose between his rogues and his family. I have writer's block, so if anyone has trap/test suggestions, feel free to add them.

the final trap being Joker and Alfred shackled onto two tables with a dialysis machine looking contraption between them; they're both held inside a cage and a small pillar with a button on it is outside.

"Hello Bruce, and welcome to your final test. The men before you have played similar yet opposite roles in your life. One is an enemy that you have never truly conquered, and the other is an ally who has never wavered in his support of your conquest. In sixty seconds, the machine will begin to pump Alfred's veins full if hydrofluoric acid. If you push the button before then however, the acid will instead be pumped into the veins of the Joker. Will you do it this time, Batman? Will you take one life in order to save another?"

[cecexoxo]

Random things that happened to my Wayne Family sims today

Tim called Bruce and asked if he and Duke can stay over for a few days for some reason. He showed up angry and was talking about it to Duke

Later Tim and Duke went up to Damian's room and played video games with him and helped him with his homework until dinner was ready

While Jason was making dinner he got a call from Cass asking this

I have no Idea who she was talking about but Jason told her to think about it herself cause he doesn't know that person. THEN Santa called Jason and Jason just called him a weirdo and hung up lol

Later that day Tim asked Bruce for advice on what to do with his life and Bruce was very unhelpful lol

Then Damian also asked Bruce for advice.

Then Talia asked Damian to go to the theater with her