Damian Wayne - Blog Posts

First ever post and it’s incorrect quotes!! I drew this today after I saw a couple of posts of incorrect posts and thought “Why not draw this as Damian Wayne and Jonathan Kent” so I did. :3

I drew this on my sketchbook, so don’t mind the smudges. >_>

I saw in one of the reblogs of my post with Makeup Artist Damian that someone offer me their soul for seeing Dami painting Steph and Cass nails-

WELL, it will be half soul, because as much as I loved the idea, i wanted the body-painting too, specially for Cass, to make something pretty out of her scars :DD

I saw in one of the reblogs of my post with Makeup Artist Damian that someone offer me their soul for seeing Dami painting Steph and Cass nails-

WELL, it will be half soul, because as much as I loved the idea, i wanted the body-painting too, specially for Cass, to make something pretty out of her scars :DD

A scene where batboys was causing chaos on Wayne Manor, while Alfred and Bruce had enough for it :)

I'm done drawing, so now I'm just sitting here and waiting for someone to tell me the lore behind this chaos

I spent like 30 minutes on this please appreciate my meme

And yes Tim is trying desperately not to laugh his ass off

Source under the cut! (At least where I got it from)

Damian Wayne know what a furry is. End post.

Bruce Wayne as a dad, but he doesn't try to reprimand his kids, he just acts like everything is his 13th reason:

"Jason, if you throw that guy off the cliff, i am also jumping off after him."

"Dick, if you don't get down from there, I will stand under the chandelier when it falls down."

"Damian, if you cut that head off, i will walk into your sword."

There would be no survivors if these three met. Just putting that out there.

We were robbed of these two having more scenes in Knight Terrors together.

I know Wesley has been through a lot and met all kinds of people, but for some reason when he mentioned knowing Batman through either time travel or alternate dimensions, I can only imagine him having met a Burt Ward type of Robin.

So instead getting "Holy dreamscape Batman!", he gets:

13-16 year old with big sword.

Hold on hold on hold on!

I have a genuine question, why and when was Danny Phantom (and Miraculous Ladybug for that matter) a common DC crossover fandom??? I genuinely mean no hate either way but I’m just confused???

Like I’ve been going through my daily ritual of scrolling through any Jason Todd tags and them BAM DANNY PHANTOM AU or BANG LADYBUG IS IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH BATFAMILY MEMBER!

Man….. I’m just confused

Gotham city is just the reverse Disneyland. Instead of all of your dreams coming true it's all of your nightmares coming true.

incorrect batfam

dick: There is no future. there is no past. do you see? Time is simultaneous, an intricately structured jewel that humans insist on viewing one edge at a time, when the whole design is visible in every facet. jason: damian: tim: Everyone Else At dick’s Surprise Birthday Party: jason: All I asked was if you wanted to cut your birthday cake first.

TO ANYONE WHO LOVES THE BATFAM!!

LOOK! LOOK AT THIS! PLEASE GO VOTE!! WE NEED THIS! you can vote on DCCOMICS offical instagram, twitter and webpage!

Yandere batfam x neglected reader

The cut that always bleed✧.* - what was i made for?

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any grammatical errors that this story may have.

Y/n L/n was a far cry from Y/n Wayne. Despite both last names, each carrying the weight of a turbulent history, "L/n" felt surprisingly lighter. Both names reminded you of the haunting shadows cast by your mother and father, yet they bore different emotional tolls. As you stood before the mirror, a somber reflection gazing back, you pondered on the 13 years—a whole decade and three more—that seemed squandered on people who couldn't hold your gaze for more than fleeting moments.

Of course, the toll it took on your emotional health was immense, but there was nothing you could do about it. You knew that no matter what you did, you could never capture their attention, not even for a moment. By the age of six, you took up martial arts, hoping your family would be proud of you for sharing their passion. But all you received was a pat on the shoulder from Dick when you won a gold medal.

At ten, you delved into video games, hoping to bond with Tim. You spent four days learning all the rules and knowledge about the game, and two whole weeks mastering it. But when you finally mustered the courage to ask Tim to play with you, he stared at you with bored eyes, barely registering your presence. After twelve minutes of rambling about the game, he sighed, pinched his eyes, and said, "I can't. I'm busy, okay?" before leaving your small room. The video game stayed in a box, forgotten and dirty, for thirteen years, a testament to the same treatment you received over and over.

You took every opportunity, every chance to learn something they were talented in, hoping to catch a glimpse of love in their eyes. But all you got were bored, empty stares. Every hobby you had was dedicated to them, except for one: ballet. The art of dancing, with its sharp and strict moves, dancing on your tiptoes, chin up, and a graceful smile on your face. Nothing could take this away from you, not even Cassandra, who was the apple of her family's eyes as she danced on stage. You loved dancing; it filled your heart with joy and bliss. You believed this was the one thing they could never take from you. That's what you thought.

Ballet demanded strict poise and discipline, watching every bite you took and every drink you swallowed. Your mother was a beautiful woman, enchanting enough to enthrall your father. Her eyes could charm thousands of men and bend their morals to her desire. She was like a siren, captivating men with her ethereal beauty. Your father was no different, dazzling people with his money, perfect white teeth, and undeniable allure. He made heads turn and people giggle at his mere presence. So why did you feel as if you were nothing like them? Created by a goddess and a god, yet you turned out to be so unsightly that your mother sneered and threw you out of her arms, forcing you into the embrace of an unknown man.

You panted lightly, staring at your features in the mirror. Why? Why? Why? Why are you like this? Why can't you feel beautiful? Why can't you be beautiful? Why can't you be a sight for sore eyes like the men and women around you? Their features blended so well with their faces, but you? You felt like a pig with makeup on. You saw beauty in everyone but never in yourself.

Your performance is in about a few more days and you haven't eaten anything healthy for the past 3 days, you're starved, you're pressured, and your family hasn't even answered your text in which you, inviting them to please come watch your performance. Dragging your body to walk home, Alfred unfortunately can't drive you home as he is too busy with work (helping your family with their nightly activities) you hiss as the cold wind blew against your fresh scars-the result of you scratching your face with your nails due to resentment for yourself because of the question in the back of your mind: “why can't you just be good enough?”

The harsh glare of your ballet dance teacher only added more pressure, intensifying the burden on your weak shoulders. You carried the lingering thought that your family didn't care about you and the nagging feeling that you would never be good enough for them. The performance was just a few days away, and you hadn't eaten anything healthy for the past three days. You were starved, pressured, and desperately longing for your family's support. Yet, your texts inviting them to watch your performance went unanswered.

Dragging your exhausted body home, you felt a deep sense of despair. Alfred, who usually drove you home, was too busy with work, assisting your family with their nightly activities. As you walked, the cold wind bit into your fresh scars, the result of scratching your face with your nails out of self-loathing. The question haunted you: "Why can't you just be good enough?"

Your footsteps echoed in the empty streets, each step a reminder of your solitude. The streetlights cast long shadows, mirroring the darkness that seemed to envelop your soul. You could hear the distant laughter of families and friends enjoying their evenings, a stark contrast to the silence that filled your life.

But even though you're killing me

Arriving home, you unlocked the door with trembling hands. The house was quiet, as it always was when you were alone. The once warm and inviting living room now felt cold and unwelcoming. You dropped your bag and collapsed onto the couch, burying your face in your hands. Tears streamed down your cheeks, a release of the pent-up frustration and sadness. Gasping for breath as you dragged your shivering legs to your cold, small bed room as you dropped your exhausted form to your squeaking bed, staining your pillows with your tears.

I need you like the air I breathe

In your heart, you still held onto a sliver of hope that your family would show up to your performance. You envisioned them in the audience, watching with pride as you executed every move with precision and grace. But reality was harsh, and you knew deep down that their absence would cut deeper than any physical wound. But you needed them. They were the salt to your wounds yet you still crave for their attention. It's not too late right?

Please.

You spent the next few days in a haze, practicing relentlessly for the upcoming performance. Every pirouette, every leap, and every graceful move was tainted by the thought of your family's indifference. You pushed your body to the limit, hoping that the pain would numb the emotional agony. Again, again, again– again y/n! You need to perfect this! This could be the chance for you to prove to them that you're worthy of their attention! That you belong in this family just as much as they do! You can't give up. Stop trembling. Stop acting so weak. If you don't stop acting like a child then maybe they'll eventually throw you out of the house too.

Please

The day of the performance arrived, and you stood backstage, nervously adjusting your costume. Your heart pounded in your chest as you peeked through the curtains, scanning the audience for familiar faces. But as the minutes ticked by, it became clear that your family was not coming. Your lips trembling, your brain can't fathom the idea of them not coming to this performance—of course you'd expect y/n to be unsurprised by this behavior but it's not fair! You worked so hard for this only for them to answer you with nothing but silence.

I need you more than me

You destroyed yourself for this; for them! You worked every bone in your body and stretched every limb of yours, starved yourself for days, just for them to dismiss your one request to just be there. You just wanted that family where they were all so supportive of you, they all loved and adored you. The worst part is they are just not to you. And you had to learn that the hard way.

I need you more than anything

Summoning every ounce of strength, you stepped onto the stage. The spotlight shone brightly, and for a moment, you felt a surge of confidence. The music began, and you moved with the grace and elegance you had practiced so hard to perfect. Each step was a testament to your dedication, a silent plea for recognition and love. Tears threatening to spill from your eyes as a feeling of pain and happiness surged through your chest.

As you danced, the audience watched in awe. To them, you were a vision of beauty and talent. But inside, you felt empty. Every jump, every turn, and every sway of your limb was dedicated to them. With trembling lips you swallow the lump in your throat and ignore the pain in your chest as you play your part of the performance. The applause at the end of your performance was hollow, a reminder that the ones you longed to impress were not there to see it. Backstage, you received praise from your fellow dancers and instructors, but it did little to lift your spirits. You longed for a simple word of encouragement, a sign that your family cared. Instead, you were met with silence. You smiled faintly at them thanking them and exchanging a few compliments here and there. At this moment you couldn't feel anything. You were numb from all the pain you have suffered from this family.

Please, please

That night, as you lay in bed, the weight of the day's events pressed heavily on your chest. You stared at the ceiling, your mind racing with thoughts of inadequacy. The question echoed once more: "Why can't you just be good enough?"

"Those days are over," you say to yourself as you pack your bags and place your belongings into boxes. You've grown, and after 13 years in the manor begging for scraps of their attention, you've realized that what you want will never become reality. It took you a whole decade and three more years to come to this realization. You shake your head softly and smile sadly. What were you thinking? Of course, they wouldn't care about you. Your normalcy and mediocrity never appealed to them, and you’ve decided those days are finally over. It was time to move out and discover what you were truly meant for.

"What was I made for?"

you ask yourself. This question feels so much better than constantly wondering, "Will they finally look at me?" You take a deep breath, inhaling the fresh air of your new home. You breathe in and out, closing your eyes for a moment. This was it. You had made it. Slowly, you open your eyes and look at the people surrounding you, those who truly cared for you and saw you through your scars of insecurity, your perfect little hobbies, and your flawed personality. To them, you weren't Y/n Wayne, child of a billionaire, nor Y/n L/n, child of a prostitute. You were just Y/n, who tried so hard, failed, but ultimately succeeded.

The manor has been noticeably quiet for the past few days. The silence weighting discomfort as if something was wrong–as if something was missing. It was surprisingly first noticed by none other than Richard Grayson himself. The first Robin of Batman, the irreplaceable side kick, the first son of Bruce Wayne, and the darling of the crowd whom everyone loves and adore. As he walked through the large halls of the home he grew up in, he felt something was out of place. Like something wasn't in place or rather something was missing. It took him some time to figure it out as the clock ticks

Tick

Tock

Tick

Tock

Aha! He's got it! It was because there wasn't any classic orchestral music playing through the thick walls of the manor. The soft music of pyotr tchaikovsky wasn't heard anywhere around the corners of the walls. That's strange. The sweet melody of violins and cellos wasn't found in any room at all. He didn't know why but it bugged him. He sighs as he disregards it, nevermind he said, must be Alfred playing his favorite old songs. He walks around the manor to look for his siblings and father and somehow stumbled upon this.. Unknown and empty small room. “wow this is.. Something” he muttered under his breath. He inspected the room and saw multiple trophies decorating the room. It was impressive how someone can achieve this many gold medals and such. His gaze traveled across the room and saw a box full of webs and dust, and got interested as he opened it to see an old video game and thought that it must have been Tim's before he decided to throw it away out of boredom. With no more much to do he slid through the doors and whistled his way out of the room, unaware of how many memories a person created in that very same room withering away.

Tim and Damian recognized the absence of humming and the pattern of footsteps that used to echo around the house from an unknown room. The silence made them uncomfortable. They had grown so accustomed to the faint noise that it had somehow brought them comfort. The melodic lullaby of humming painted a serene picture of paradise, lulling them easily to sleep—a struggle they had faced all their lives as vigilantes, or in Damian's case, as an assassin. Their heartbeats aligned with the rhythm of the faint noise.

For Tim, it was a sweet form of salvation from the demons that haunted his nights and kept him from a good night's sleep. For Damian, it was the comfort he never knew, a stark contrast to the heavy stare of his grandfather and the weight of expectations placed on his shoulders by his mother's watchful gaze.

Jason couldn't care less about what happens around that manor. He hated that place. It made him rethink all the moments he wished he could take back. Jason Todd is a hateful man but a good soldier. He destroys in order to protect. He kills in order to let another live. A morally gray person. In his eyes he was what Bruce wayne–Batman couldn't be. But even a man who goes out at night to protect needs a break. So when he came to the manor and went straight to the library and saw that the usual piled up classic books weren't to be seen at their usual spot he found it.. Unsettling per say. The books written by Jane Austen that were filled with marked pages, sticky notes, and annotations not found in the main table of the room were strange to him. He didn't even know who did it but it made him feel like he was home. The silly doodles and random words written on the sticky notes, careful not to dirty the book, made him chuckle every time he saw it; so where was it now?

Cassandra was into ballet. She grew up silenced, observing others, forever cautious. as to why she expresses herself through dancing: ballet. A moment where she can breathe and let go. Where she can freely pour her heart into dancing. Every point, every movement, she releases her unsaid emotions. She was raised that way. Except then she was thought to swallow her words and release her pent up emotions into bad things instead of gracefully dancing. She was completely in love with dancing. Whenever she went to collect her ballet shoes there's always an extra bandage, extra shoes played on the floor. She never knew why and she never questioned it. Just ignored it. But now she somehow froze at her spot to see nothing but her shoes and not next to the light pink ones that had a small bow to compliment its design. Ever so stunning; the person who wears it must have been the same kind of persona-wait.. Person? There's another one.. Oh.

Bruce Wayne was a busy man. By day, he handled his company, Wayne Enterprises. His days were filled with paperwork, meetings, and managing marketing strategies. But by night, he never slept. No, he donned the mantle of Batman, the prince of Gotham City, the guardian of Lady Gotham. He didn't have time for anything he deemed unworthy of his attention. He noticed every tiny mistake, be it at work or on the streets of Gotham. At work, he spotted grammatical errors and unstraightened lines of decorative mugs. As Batman, he detected the slightest hint of lies in a criminal's eyes. So, yes, he noticed that something—or rather, someone—from the manor was missing.

As dick whistled his way out of the room unable to find his family members, he decided to go to the batcave and have a little fun while being alone. He did all things he could think of. Look for more cases to solve, dig some stuff out criminal records, blah blah blah.. Then he decided to check the manor's CCTV.

As dick was checking the cctv's of the manor out of boredom, he managed to catch a glimpse of footage-about 2 weeks ago of a person..? Packing their bags and putting things from the manor into a box and leaving. It must be a thief! But that's impossible.. The manor has many securities that even a skilled assassin could not pass through the gates, it's impossible. Unless..

Dick took another glance at the footage and zoomed the screen and squinted his eyes. And for a second, his breath hitched and his heart pumped fast, his hand trembled and his eyes dilated..

It can't be.

You.. Y-..y/n? What were you doing? Where are you going? He bit his lips harshly as he watched the footage like a hawk. His hands came to fidget with his hair. Was that really you? You look so grown.. Several thoughts ran through his mind as he pondered on what you were doing. After a matter of time he somehow remembers. Oh yeah! Your contact number. His hands trembling, in a hurry he pressed your name in his phone and.. Shoot. His eyes widened at the several missed calls and texts from you. Not even a single response from him. Come to think of it, when was the last time he talked to you? Like, really talked to you? He quickly text you “heyy baby birdddd I miss you! Let's hang out right now!” while biting his thumb as he bounced his thighs up and down from anticipation. And then suddenly.. He remembers! The room! It was yours! Before he even knew it, he was quick on his feet and ran like a mad man towards your room. He panted slightly at the face of your door and harshly opened your room unaware of his strength. He went through every corner of your room. He explored every side of your room to find something-anything that can give him even a spoil of information about you. And that was when he found a tiny pink notebook. He chuckled softly, out of breath, hair messed up like a mad man but dick didn't care, no because he finally found your one and only diary! Filled with bows and pink glitters.. Hah..you were so cute. He went through your diary, invading your privacy and saw all of the things you've said. The way you praised him, the way you adored your family, your little adventures, your previous ballet performances (you did ballet? Wow, you're just so talented.. Oh his little bird.) he suddenly heard a high pitched ping! And scrambled to his phone as he expected a response from you but instead all he was met with was “y/n has blocked you”.

What..? Why? Didn't you want to spend time with your precious big brother? His blood shot eyes twitched and sweat ran down from his face. The suddenly a deep voice said:

“dick? What's going on here?”

Note: as promised! Here is the chapter yall asked forrr tell me what you guys think!

Yandere batfam x neglected reader

So, pack up your car, put a hand in your heart, sing what ever you feel, be wherever you are

We ain't angry at you love. ⋆·˚ ༘ *

The pain of the neglected soul. Under the heavy mood lingering in the manor. An architectural design that screams wealth but is never wealthy with love and laughter. well, at least not to the second youngest child of Bruce Wayne, the billionaire playboy, the most powerful man in Gotham City.

Being a product of a mistake between an infamous prostitute and a well-known, almost "celebrity"-like man was not really an ideal life. Being shunned away by the woman who you call Mom, who's supposed to whisper sweet words to you and rock your fragile body back and forth to ease you of whatever you feel bad about, instead shoves you into the arms of an unknown man who's your supposed father. Yeah, that sucks.You've always adored your mom. Despite the horrible words she casually whispers to you - "you ruined me, kid"—you turn a blind eye to her actions and act deaf to her cruel words and instead pretend that she's the mom who loves you and adores you just as much as you do for her. Because it was better. It just was. Your brain can't really process the fact that your abusive mother can be abusive. No, not when she was the one who carried you for 273 days, birthed you, and gave you your name. A 5-year-old's brain can't possibly carry the thought of having that same woman hate you. So even when it was your birthday, you waited for her all day to come home and give you kisses and maybe a birthday cupcake or present. just for once, she comes home drunk, messy, and dizzy with a man on her arms while laughing feverishly. It crazy to think that was the most happiest you've seen her; she was always scowling when she was with you. Strange. Even so you greet her with a hug. "Momma, I've been waiting for you all day—" she cuts you off and tells you to get away from her and calls you this strange name "annoying" huh. Wonder what that means. And for the next hours you spend your birthday alone, in your bedroom. Awake and hungry. But it doesn't matter at least mom came home! Sometimes she doesn't even come home for a few days, but she came home today! That means she must love you. Only for a few days she stays at home with the strange man she brought home on the day of your birthday. It doesn't bother you, it was normal after all. She always do this and then after a few days the man's gone. Yeah, this is just temporary. You say as you clean the house full of dirty clothes and empty alcohol bottles. And then one night the strange man is yelling at your mom; screams filled the tiny apartment with smashing sounds of bottles echoing around the room. You're furious, and you want to defend the woman who you oh so lovingly call "mother" You push the man away, and it angers him. With his bloodshot eyes, he grabbed the bottle and smashed it at the side of your tiny head. You soon wake up in a large room with bright lights and thick white walls. Soon you find out that you're in a hospital; its so cool, it's the size of your living room! Maybe even bigger… Moments later you found out that your mother gave you up to some unknown man who is to be called your "father.". You thrash and scream against the nurse's hold and scream for your mommy, yet she never came.A strange man came and introduced himself. He said he was "Alfred" and said from now on he will take care of you. That's silly because no one in your entire life has had someone take care of you. Soon he drives you to a gloomy big house with lots of statues as Alfred proceeds to tell you that this will be your new home now. Different portraits adorn the walls, and shiny pottery and impressive works of art fill the house. Alfred soon introduced you to your father, Bruce Wayne. Now this is where it all starts. With your new home, hope sparked through your heart, and you believed that somehow, someway, maybe you'll be able to get the love that you have always longed for, yearned for, waited for.

Wrong.

Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy, the most powerful man of Gotham, the heartthrob, the Batman, but never the father of y/n l/n. He doesn't even know you. Doesn't even try to acknowledge you and your hard work, desperate to try anything to make him pay attention to you. To give you the attention you crave and yearn for ever since you arrived at the comfort of his home. You weren't stupid. You knew who he was and his nightly activities. You understood. But what hurts was that despite this, he managed to give every. Single. One. Of his children, attention except you. Was it because you weren't like them? Was it because you didn't fight bad guys for a hobby? Or was it because he never deemed you worthy of his time? Why? Were all the things the kids and big adults whispered behind your back true? That you were a child of a whore and you were bound to become one too over a matter of time? Was it true you'll never compare to your siblings? Being compared to your siblings, who had so much talent and had their own special abilities that yours can't compare to, was draining—and partially true. Your little ballet classes can never impress bruce over his other children's combat skills, multilingual abilities, and genius calculations. And you learned to accept that over the years as you grew up.

Richard grayson, dick, the loving big brother, the family guy. Maybe he was a good guy. After all, he managed to acknowledge you for about 6 seconds one time! He even asked you about your ballet classes! Though that was only to distract his self before Damian came. Always the big brother and Lil brother duo! .. Despite being busy with being a full-time cop and a vigilante, he still makes time for family, the ones he considers as family. Not you, never you. Who were you kidding? Dick is the star of the show, and you're just another side character in his main character life! Just a plain, old, boring bystander. That's all you will ever be to little Richard Grayson's glam life story.

Jason todd was different. He was known as someone who was brutal and full of anger. So it was no problem for him to shove you and tell you off. He had no conscience in telling you to go away, and you liked that. You like the fact that at least he had the decency to not give you false hope. Jason todd hates you, and you know it. Jason todd is jealous of your normalcy and how oblivious you are to the danger of the world. In his eyes, you were his replacement; looking at you makes the green monster of envy crawl out of him and take his anger out on you. The way you are so vulnerable stirs something up inside of him, and he realizes that your eyes look just like his when he was full of wonder and innocence. It made him restless and irritated. It reminded him of his mistakes, foolishness, and those memories he buried deep inside his mind to save him from countless nightmares he desperately ran away from.

Timothy Drake, the genius Robin, the hero by choice, the prodigy son. You would be lying if you said that you weren't jealous of Tim at all. I mean, look at him! He's a genius, a hero, a heartthrob, and a role model to several youths of Gotham. He was exactly like Bruce, and I mean exactly like Bruce. His life revolved around solving crimes, fighting bad guys, acing all of his tests, and coffee. Anything was more important other than you. Sure! He has time to cuddle with his family for movie night (without you, of course) but never has the time to play video games with you. Everything seemed to send thrills to his veins and spark an interest in him except your very existence. If you were just a mere bystander in Dick's story, you weren't even in Tim's!

Cassandra. The girl of the family. You have always envied her. Not only was she the only girl of the family and doted on by every single one of your brothers, but you and she also shared the same interest. What's even more infuriating was that she didn't even have to try. She didn't have to beg countless times to have anyone attend her performances because they were all there. Even Jason, who hid in the shadows. They were all there to support her and show her the love you have always asked for, begged for. She swooned all of them with her dancing, and you can't help that maybe her hands are more gentle, maybe her feet are more pointed, maybe her posture is more straight than yours, maybe she's prettier than you, maybe she's more worth than you.

And finally. Damian al Ghul Wayne. The youngest son, the baby brother, the scarred child loved by his family. When Damian came into the manor, you were thrilled. You thought that maybe you and he could bond over the same trauma. Maybe finally someone can understand you.You thought wrong again. Damian thought you were weak and a disgrace to the bloodline of the Wayne family clan. He called you thousands of cruel names and insulted you whenever he had the chance to. He always belittled you and showed you no mercy, going as far as to drag the blade of his sword across your neck, drawing blood, just for him to cruelly laugh in your face and tell you that you are being dramatic. You forgave him. You were a good kid. Right? So why is it that a kid who made thousands of innocent lives bleed through his sword is sitting with his father—your father—on the couch, sleeping soundly on his chest? It's not fair.

They were never fair.

As Dick was checking the CCTV footage of the manor out of boredom, he managed to catch a glimpse of footage—about 2 weeks ago—of a person packing their bags and putting things from the manor into a box and leaving. It must be a thief! But that's impossible. The manor has many securities that even a skilled assassin could not pass through the gates; it's impossible. Unless…Dick took another glance at the footage and zoomed in on the screen and squinted his eyes. And for a second, his breath hitched and his heart pumped fast, his hand trembled, and his eyes dilated.

It can't be.

Bruce saying "Don't make me call Alfred." Is like the equivalent of a dad saying "Don't make me call your mother." And it's so funny to me 🤣🤣

Hey here's some songs that I think match (, but keep in mind I was reading Angst fics when collecting the songs)

Jason- Mad Hatter Malanie Martinez, Control Halsey, I'm gonna show you crazy Bebe Rexha, Ain't No Rest For The Wicked Cage The Elephant, House Of Memories Panic!At the Disco, I'm Just Your Problem Adventure Time(Bruce), War and Apologize by grandson, Wonderland Caravan Palace and Boy in the Bubble Alec Benjamin

Dick- Sarcasm Get Scared, Favourite color is Blue Robert DeLong, SAD Young Rising Sons, Novocaine and Last of the Real ones by Fall out boy, Lonely Palaye Royale, Wolf in Sheeps Clothing Set it of(id crisis), Shit Bo Burnham(depressed),Burn the House Down AJR, Teeth 5 seconds of summer(SlaDick), Lotta True Crime Penelope Scott(rape, dark), Best Friends grandson, Wake me up and Hey Brother by Avicii, Medicine Artist vs Poet and Victorious Panic! At the Disco

Damian- Bones Imagine Dragons(Robin is magic), If I Killed someone for you Alec Benjamin, parents YUNGBLUD(his perspective/scared of saying he's gay), Love Like You and Here comes a thought Steven Universe,and Immortals Fall out boy(mini SuperBat)

Tim- I'll Sleep when I'm dead Set it off, Crazy=Genius Panic!At the Disco and Two Birds Regina Spektor

Bruce- Teenagers and Welcome to the Black parade by MCR and Wilson(Expensive mistakes) Fall out Boy

There are less songs for Tim and Bruce because I don't know their lore that well or don't listen to music that matches them.

My headcanons about Dick Grayson

Dick is touched starved.

Think about it he grew up in a circus, that he considered family, when he was little he always got physical affection and after he was adopted by Bruce he still got some(because lets face it Bruce was a softie for Dick when he was Robin) though a lot less because Bruce isn't a touchy person, but after being fired and going solo he had a lot less physical affection from his loved ones(especially when he had a "falling out" with the Titans and YJ). I think over time he became touched starved, thats why he gives bear hugs and is more affectionate to everyone. AlsoI think it got slightly better when he was Batman and had his Robin. That's why Damian is more clingy with him and allows Dicks affection (He also knows when not to touch)(Also you can't convince me Dick isn't Damians favourite person and that they don't share a father-son relationship (mentor-student, older brother-younger brother, hero-sidekick, hero-fan all of these also aply))

Dick is still angry with Bruce about a lot of things.

How he took away Robin. How he dared give it away without his notice or permission. How he made Robin into a mantle. How he found out he took in Jason and gave him Robin from a newspaper. How he failed Jason and then blamed him. How he didn't say that Jason died. How he wasn't even invited to his funeral. How he kept secret that Jason was alive. How he used a batarang on Jason, almost killing him again, instead of Joker. How he treated Damian when he first came here and sometimes even now. How he purposely separated him from Damian, because he was jealous (of their father-son relationship). How Bruce beat him into submission to join Spyral. How that wasn't the first time Bruce hit him. How Bruce never made a backup plan to extract him from Spyral. How Bruce forgot(got amnesia) him in Spyral. How he lied to his siblings that he went along willingly with it. (If you can't tell I like Angry Dick Grayson fics)

‌Dick and Slade are frenemies.

Basically as long as Dick doesn't interfere with his jobs, they are close friends, but as soon as he interferes they don't hold back from lethal force. I know Slade kidnapped him and kinda tortured him and Dick was obsessed with him to the point of insanity, BUT they both obsessed over one another so much that they know eachother the best and after a while they sorta lost their motivation to constantly fight(though spars are still fair game, the only rule is the other doesn't die) eachother. So now they meet up monthly to bitch and complain about their lives and gossip like old ladies, with some alcohol on a random rooftop. They are the embodiment of don't mix business with pleasure, when they meet on one of Slades jobs they pull out all stops and fight viciously, mercilessly and brutally, but the next day(night?) Slade comes over with the good whiskey and they spend their night watching the rom-coms, because Dick thinks it's funny to force the Terminator to watch them and because he's endlessly amused when Slade actually gets invested in it.

Dick Grayson taught Damian.

About the Romani language/culture, acrobatics, trapeze, circus, travel, all the recipes of Romani dishes that he knows, Romani stories, Robin tricks, stories, secrets (By Romani culture Damian is his son and they both decided to keep that a secret from the others, btw he also learned about Damians Arabic traditions, foods, language). I think that Damian values this more than his inheritance as an Al-Ghul and Wayne, because Dick chose to give his culture and inheritance to him, not because he was obliged to.

...So you seemed to like my rant's/headcanon's *throws cautiously some more headcanons in your direction*... have some more?

P.S. Someone pointed out that there are a lot of canon in the last post instead of headcanon's, but I read so little of the comics that I can't really tell whats canon and whats not.

Bruce complaining to Clark: Look EVERY TIME I'm not wearing glasses and am trying to guess which of my dark haired children I'm looking at, it's like playing russian roulette and IT IS russian roulette, because if I get Jason wrong somebody WILL get shot.....

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And that's why Duke, Barbara and Steph are my favourites.

Another reason why I’m a firm believer in letting Bruce get old is because the idea of him looking and his dark haired children without his glasses on and genuinely not being able to tell them apart is unparalleled

Dick, from another room: Barbara, I swear to GOD I will evescarate you, if you call me that AGAIN!

(Honestly like father like son)

Incorrect Batfam Quotes

Jason: Hey Pixie Boots!

Damian: Call me that again and I will remove your organs in alphabetical order. Any questions?

Jason: Yes, actually. Which alphabet?

Damian: *attacks

"Wishlist"

Maya: Okay so…Damian…

Damian: Shit.

Maya: It’s nothing bad!

Maya: This list of traits you’d like to see in a partner is way better than I thought it was going to be!

Damian: …But?

Maya:

Maya: But I do have a few…concerns…

Damian:

Maya: So, like: ”Actively considers me a human being” is objectively a good thing, but I do have to ask--

Damian: Do you? 

Damian: Do you really?

Maya:

Maya: Yikes, my guy. 

Maya: Alright, “Capable of beating me in a fight” cuts out a lot of candidates--

Damian: I value competence and skill.

Damian: Plus I don’t want to have to be concerned for their safety.

Maya: Sure, but you didn’t phase it as “Capable of protecting themselves,” so I think that implies some kind of--

Damian: What else has made you so concerned, Ducard?

Maya:

Maya: Well…

Maya: You mention Jon by name…three separate times.

Damian: What? No I--

Maya: “Kind eyes, much like Jonathan’s” and “A strong moral compass, comparable to Superboy’s,” 

Maya: …then you say “Jonlike.”

Damian:

Damian: I fail to see the--

Maya: Oh! I missed one. 

Maya: This is just straight up his full name.

Damian:

Maya: And his Kryptonian name in parenthesis. For clarity. 

Damian:

Damian: …I feel like you’re trying to imply something.

Maya: Oh my god?

We need more aus and fics were Bruce somehow ends up adopting all of his kids around the same time

I could see Bruce getting Damian out of the League of Shadows as a baby and taking in everyone else as kids

I would like to announce that my little brother is a little bitch (nongendered) and I love him dearly.

I was texting him about a recent tragic realization about strawberries. And this little fucker who stole my height and testosterone from before the womb goes:

Little Bro: so that's bananas, pecans, milk, and strawberries

LB: all hurt your mouth

LB: gonna need to Kevorkian you with a banana split in a few years at this rate

Anyway I called him a cunt and I feel justified in that action. We love each other very much.

And that's very much how I see current Tim and Damien's relationship with each other. It's fun to playfully hate on a sibling who can bite back. It's flyting, but without the poetry.

@malfiora found it for me so I'm gonna share it! I genuinely love this so much, it's such a Thing that would become part of Gotham's cultural zeitgeist.

Imagine the first time each of them heard some kids singing this?! Imagine if it's a cryptid Batfamily au and the song breaks containment before the other heroes know them? So much possibility, so much potential, I love it.

Listen... All I know is that the kids I babysit were singing that one Gummy Bear song and next thing I knew my brain made a parody

This is the chaos I'm here for damnit. I wanna eat this as a long form, slow burn, multi-chapter, identity porn fic because it'd be delicious.

I've had this idea rotating in my head for a while about a specific scenario in a universe where nobody is ever clued in on the fact that the bats are related. They just assume that Robin, Red Robin, Red Hood, Nightwing, and everybody else just coincidentally happens to be Gotham (+Bludhaven) based like Batman is.

Do me a favor and imagine the aftermath of some stage five hall hands on deck crisis where everyone and their team has to gather for debriefing and for medical care. Everybody shows up with their respective teams, Nightwing with his Titans, Red Robin with the old members of YJ, Red Hood with the Outlaws, Batman with the JL ect ect.

Everyone is super tired from the battle and none of them are even given a moment to breathe before Red Hood and Red Robin start beefing on sight. Before anybody can even think to intervene, Nightwing, Orphan, Spoiler, Robin, and Signal join in and they all just start bickering at one another.

Everybody thinks they're about to fight. Like seriously start hashing it out. Thing is, YJ are RR's ride or dies. If RR starts fighting Nightwing then the YJ are gonna fight Nightwing. And then the titans are gonna fight the YJ because those are Nightwing's ride or dies. Same goes for all the teams and their respective leaders.

Everyone looks across the room going, "Am I gonna have to fight you? Man, I don't wanna fight you." They could not wanna fight because of the prior battle, out of respect for their potential opponents, or because they know that opponent would whoop their ass. But they'll still do it because that's their leader.

Eventually all of them stop their bickering, suspending the room in tense silence, as they stare each other down. Everybody is bracing themselves for the first punch and the JL is preparing to break up the fight, but instead the silence is broken by all of the birds turning their heads in one direction and yelling, "Daaaaaaddd!"

The room is dead silent enough that everyone can hear Batman's exhausted sigh echo through the room before it's followed by, "You're all grounded."

This would be tough to see, because on one hand, yes, if Tim as a familiar presence calms Damian from his immediate state of fear/aggression, then that is good and preferable to safety holds and restraints.

What's bad about it is using another child as a pacifier and putting that responsibility on them when there are adults around who should have some training in traumatized kids. They live. In Gotham. It's been years, it should be in the teacher's handbooks by now.

So, maybe this could work for the first incident, but if it continued, then it's not fair or right to turn Tim into a teenage parent whose education, hobbies, and friends are being interrupted by (and the implication that they're seen as less important than) his brother's episodes.

There's a difference between looking out for your kid brother at school and being their sole support unit. It would not be a healthy environment for either boy.

If it were to get written, I could suspend disbelief for light-hearted fluff or reluctant brotherhood, but I'd really like to see it done by someone with a good grasp of real life CPP and New Jersey school policies. I'd really want to sink my teeth into the complexity of social work and student accommodations for a student in both Tim (two-school-shootings-and-counting!) and Damian's (Tiger Mom Assassin) situations.

do you guys think considering the relatively small age gap between Damian and Tim (depending on the author) that they would have been in school together? because coming from a youngest sibling who went to school with older siblings, that would be really interesting to look into.

i’m imagining Tim getting pulled out of class because Damian’s thrown a tantrum and refuses to listen to any of the teachers and they need his brother to convince him to calm down, and it actually working because Tim is the only person Damian is familiar with and so will ever listen to. Damian having no interest in making friends with civilians so he ends up sat on the end of Tim’s lunch table while Tim eats with his friends. Tim getting bullies in Damian’s class to back off, and Damian scuffing his foot on the tiles of the school halls as he waits for Tim to get out of detention so they can walk home together like usual.

considering how strained their relationship was when Damian first arrived in Gotham, putting him in an environment five days a week where suddenly Tim is his only true familiar ally and he has no choice but to accept being on friendlier terms would be really fucking interesting. suddenly Tim is his protector, and although he refuses to let that effect their home dynamic, he does have to accept that at school at least, he needs Tim to be his older brother.

Jason: So, what're you gonna be when you're older, hm?

Damian, without missing a single beat: Taller.

Dick, desparately trying not to fall over laughing: pfft-

Tim, whispering to Steph: Damn.

Duke: Do you want some aloe for that burn, Jason?

I tried the TikTok AI challenge with DC characters pt 2

Batman edits pt 4

Damien Wayne

Robin 

This crackship is my brainrot right now

A next gen Lego Monkie Kid oc and a DC character what can go wrong? (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

without the drawings

this is also for future chapters of the fic for this crackship-