That's Right. You Better Run.

Damian is de-aged to a baby and lost in Gotham. A magic user hit him with some kind of spell. His legs don’t work as well and he has trouble walking. That’s when a man appears and squats down with a tilt of his head.

“Yea, you are definitely not supposed to be out here, little guy.”

Damian glares at the man, early twenties, stubble along his jaw, ragged clothes, and dark bags under his eyes.

The man turns his head to look at the brick wall.

“Are you sure?”

And now he was talking to a wall. Curses. Of course he would be found by a crazy person.

The man suddenly hangs his head with a deep sigh. He regains himself quickly and stands. Moving closer to put his hands under Damian arms to lift him to perch on his hip.

Damian squirms to get down but refuses to make a sound. The last time he opened his mouth like this it was a pathetic baby sound. He couldn’t let this man see him like this.

“Looks like you’re coming home with me, little guy. I can tell you’ve got some spirit in you. Good, you’ll need it.”

Not ominous at all.

Damian stays with the man, mostly because he couldn’t physically drive a car, but also because he was almost always with him. The man would talk to air at the most random times. Obviously a schizophrenic. But Damian had to admit this man, Danny he comes to find out through a neighbor baby talking at him, has been genuinely trying to take care of him and take care of him well. Well, to the best of his abilities anyway. 

He feeds him organic purées that don’t taste half bad, except the carrots, that one was unacceptable. Danny cleans him regularly despite his crappy apartment and makes sure he is dressed appropriately for the weather. He makes an effort to take him out to the park to play in the sandbox or just walk around discovering ‘new’ things.

Damian doesn’t need a parent, he outgrew the concept when he was five and technically he already had one, but he could tell Danny would make an excellent father. Some mistakes can be overlooked compared to the effort he was putting in.

The only concerning thing was the talking to thin air. It took Damian an embarrassing amount of time to figure out the reason Danny was visiting all these random people and the graveyard. (Sometimes he will set Damian down to ‘play’ in the grass at the cemetery. It was quite odd.)

He was talking to ghosts. It wasn’t thin air or imaginary friends, no it was actually dead people. The reason Damian actually believes this is for two reasons.

One, Danny shows true results. Damian observes closely whenever they visit a ‘client’ and Danny always has accurate information despite never looking up or researching anything going in.

Two, he never calls himself a medium or psychic. He doesn’t boast about his ability to see ghosts. He does what he does to help the ghosts move on to the other side. Closure is what Danny always says. Closure for the family and the victim. In Gotham, there are a lot of victims.

Damian adjusts to his new life with Danny. It’s been five months and he’s getting used to being small and vulnerable. He’s allowed to be messy and whiny and childish. Danny never scolds him like Mother did. The man has never hit him or raised his voice at him and never expects anything from him. He encourages his progression to speak and walk, but doesn’t expect the best out of him.

It’s… nice. A good break if anything.

They are at the park when one of the bats spot him and pauses. Danny is blowing bubbles into the air and Damian tries to pop as many as he can. It’s a silly game with no clear rules, but Damian finds it entertaining nonetheless.

“Hi there! Is he yours?”

Dick Grayson wears a bright smile, but Damian can see the tightness around his eyes.

“Huh? Oh, yea, this is Damian,” Danny answers.

He had written it with the wooden blocks Danny had given him one week in. Danny took one look at the name on the ground, laughed loudly and ran with it.

“Do you mind if I say hi? He’s so cute.”

Danny looks puzzled by the request but ends up shrugging his shoulders, not seeing a problem with letting a stranger get close to Damian. (Damian knew Danny’s intense eyes were watching Dick’s every move. He was very protective like that.)

“Sure.”

Dick squats down to search Damian’s green eyes. Damian stares back just as intensely.

“Hey there, Damian. My name is Dick.”

Damian gives him a flat look at Dick’s terrible introduction.

“Grayson.”

Although with his little baby teeth not fully in it sounds more like ‘way-shah’.

Relief flashes across Dick’s face and he gives Damian a reassuring smile. It’s not as reassuring at he thinks it is. It promises to bring him home and restore him to his original age. Damian doesn’t know if that’s what he wants anymore.

Dick stands and gives Danny some imaginary excuse to leave quickly. Damian watches him go and so does Danny.

“Funny guy, huh Dami?”

Damian doesn’t respond and Danny notices his change in mood.

“Come here, little guy.”

He knows what Danny is going to do and willingly goes. He is pulled up into the man’s lap and held between two surprisingly muscular arms. Danny’s hugs are nice and warm. They aren’t too tight like Dick’s nor are they stiff like Bruce’s. He never thought he could enjoy human contact, but Danny has been showing him things about himself he didn’t ever know. Turns out he does like hugs and playing airplane and when Danny runs his fingers through his hair when he’s really sleepy.

“Let’s go home a little early today, huh? I’ll make spaghetti and you can be as messy as you want,” Danny promises.

Damian hums. Yes, that sounds nice.

That night Batman comes in through the window. Damian is waiting.

“Damian,” Batman whispers.

“Bah-mun.”

The flat, unamused stare is what gives him away.

Batman lets out a breath silently and reaches into the crib Danny had gotten him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Batman jerks into action, twisting to face Danny who had appeared suddenly. The door behind him is still closed.

Batman stays quiet, silently studying the man before him dressed in pajama pants and a worn t-shirt.

Danny tilts his head as he does the same. Damian has never seen the man so serious. He silently worries for the man. He didn’t want him getting hurt to unnecessarily protecting him from his father.

“I’d have to break your arm if you tried to do what it looks like you’re doing.”

Danny says it so plainly. So simple.

Batman straightens.

“He isn’t yours.”

He doesn’t say Damian is his. He doesn’t claim him as his own. Just that Danny shouldn’t have him.

Damian silently agrees because technically he’s right. He doesn’t deserve Danny. He can’t keep playing house like he’s an actual baby. But Damian is also selfish and over the last few months has been taught that it’s okay to ask for things he wants even if it’s not inherently beneficial. The stuffed dog he sleeps with every night is proof of that.

So Damian says nothing.

“He is now,” Danny answers simply like there was no other answer to such a statement.

“He needs to go back to where he belongs.”

“Over my dead body,” is the immediate response.

They stare each other down until Danny scoffs.

“Don’t think I’m not petty enough to fight you, Batman. I’ll fight anyone who wants to take him from me. Damian is mine.”

When Batman tries to forcibly take him, he ends up with a concussion, a blood nose, and two broken arms. Red Robin finds him in a dumpster the next morning.

The story continues with Damian learning how to be a child his age, Danny protecting him and doting on his brilliant son, and the Batfam’s frequent failed attempts to kidnap Damian back to them.

Shermie Pines, seeing Stanford for the first time: I can't believe it! Stanley Pines, back from the dead!

Stanford: oh, right. Yes. Tis I. Stanley Pines.

Stanley, rolling his eyes: okay, so admittedly I took my brother's identity. I'm Stanley, that's Stanford

Dipper and Mabel's mom, gasping: why on Earth would you lie about something like that?!

Stanley: to be so real with you, I was really drunk when I was put in charge of making that gravestone. In my defense, Stanford and Stanley are two very similar names

Dipper and Mabel's dad: I'm having a hard time processing this. Where have you been hiding all this time? And why?

Stanley: uh, he was in witness protection! He was hiding from his, uhm, crazy ex!

Shermie: that's awful! Your ex was so bad that you needed to go into witness protection?

Stanford: Bill didn't take the divorce well.

I literally never considered the whole Batman being called 'B' and then reporting back to 'A' but now that you've mentioned it, I'm obsessed with the idea. I mean, imagine meeting Batman, seeing him in the field, how hard he fights, only for him to report back to 'A'. Especially if you hear how people who've met A talk about him, like:

Batman: I'll give you each 10k if you don't tell A that I busted my shoulder

Nightwing: Sorry B, you're on your own

Red Hood: Hell no cheapskate, I wouldn't do it for 100k

Superman: I don't want to get on A's bad side :(

there's things that the JL have "heard" about A that only make him even scarier (some of these I compiled from the other post):

uses lethal force even when B won't

never leaves Gotham, like some kind of mafia don

has the ability to punish B and/or remove him from active field service

A's urgent requests take priority, even above the JL. B zetas down to Gotham without asking a single follow up question, he just goes

"You think B is bad about [thing], A is even worse." -- a sentence said jokingly by many a Batkid, over the years

it's beginning to get concerning, dad

Hair LookBook 16

links to maxis-match hairs that come with ombre/highlight accessories! I've been playing with these soo much lately ♡

1 - Hair, Highlight | 2 - Hair, Highlight | 3 - Hair | 4 - Hair |

5 - Hair | 6 - Hair | 7 - Hair | 8 - Hair | 9 - Hair | 10 - Hair |

11 - Hair | 12 - Hair | 13 - Hair, Highlight | 14 - Hair | 15 - Hair |

thank you to the wonderful cc creators ♡ | @daylifesims | @simstrouble | @simcelebrity00 | @kamiiri | @arethabee | @greenllamas | @sunivaa | @aladdin-the-simmer | ~DelSolSasha

Bruce, adopting Dick: Aw-w, what a sweet little kid! Surely, he is so polite, and—

Dick, the instance he gets in the battle: You fucking disappointment of a person, and (string of curses on his mother language)

Bruce: Oh. Okay.

Bruce, adopting Jason: Well, Jason was well-mannered and soft-spoken so far, so, maybe—

Jason to the random goon: You motherfucking asshole, I am going to shove this boa to your—

Bruce: Right. Okay.

Bruce, making Stephanie his Robin: Maybe...

Stephanie, using the same street language Jason did, if not worse: I FUCKED YOUR MOM, YOU SON OF A—

Bruce: Whatever.

Bruce, eying suspiciously quiet Tim, who came to interrogate the goon for the first time as a Robin: ?

Tim, the minute door closed behind him: Listen to me, you pathetic excuse of a man, I am going to fuck you up, in an—

Bruce, sighing: Yeah. Honestly. Whatever.

Bruce, staring at angry Damian, who looks like he is about to explode, but keeps up as much as he can: Go on, chump. Say what you want.

Damian, staring at the floor with the deadliest stare ever: Not to sound unbecoming, but... Loser. -_-

Bruce, flabbergasted: ...Okay.

may contain spoilers for batman ninja vs. yakuza league

pls do not proceed if you don't like spoilers

cue me pointing at the screen every 5 minutes and screeching babiaaaaannnnn

HE SET IT AS HIS LOCK SCREEN OMG

family bonding 💗 then ra's put him in a horse plinko type of cage for the sin of liking california rolls

hiya batman 666 💖

Talia: Okay, if I had Damian in the spring and it’s winter now… I forgot his birthday, didn’t I?

Harley (holding a teacup): Yeah, he said he’s used to it.

Talia (panicked): Oh my God! Quick, what do boys like? Fisher-Price is still a thing, right?

Harley (flatly): Tali, he turned twelve.

Talia (lamenting): I thought he was nine! Okay, I can work with this. I’ll call Bruce—no, no, he’ll be upset that I forgot his birthday and think I don’t care. But I do care! He’s my tifl. I spent thirty-six hours pushing him out of my body! My mind just gets foggy at times.

Harley: Talia.

Talia: If I had remembered, trust me, I’d throw him a party! Plus, I’m a busy woman. I am a businesswoman before I’m a fighter. That’s not me excusing my actions, though. Don’t say it is!

Harley (repeating herself): Talia?

Talia: I need to give him something good—

Harley (raising her voice): TALIA!

Talia (annoyed): What?!

Harley (passing Talia her phone, which is open to the Amazon app): What you see is his wishlist. That’s the stuff he wants as gifts. You don’t have to buy everything, just one or two items.

Talia: Oh bless you, Harley! Huh, he has a lot of books in here. I shall buy them all!

Talia pulled out her phone and began adding every book she saw on his wishlist to her Amazon cart. Harley shrugged, sipping her tea.

Two weeks later, Damian received numerous packages from Amazon filled with the books he had been hoping to get. He blinked, unsure of how to react. But what stood out the most was that Talia had also bought him the ship Lego set he wanted.

Damian: Hm… She really went through my wishlist for this. If she got the notification that the packages were delivered, she should be calling any second now.

His phone rang two seconds later, right on cue. He answered with reluctance.

Damian: Don't speak yet. I just wanted to say thank you for the gifts. Now you can react.

Talia (sweetly): I get you the best because you’re my precious twelve-year-old, and I knew you turned that age, but it’s been crazy busy dealing with business and my father.

Ra's: Hey!

Damian (small smile): Mm-hm, thanks anyways, Mother. I… love you.

Talia: I love you too!

Damian is an artist.

Damian being an artist is so dear to me in many ways, he can use this creative outlet to show how he views things, people, himself in such a deeply vulnerable way without having to say it.

Give me a Damian who paints his family portraits for their birthdays or just for himself, give me Wayne brothers each painted in Damian's style but distinctly different from each other. Different elements are highlighted for each person.

Give me Dick painted in chunky, light strokes reminiscent to van Gogh.

Give me Bruce painted in colors just off from being black and white.

Give me Jason so desaturated or monotoned that when Damian uses color for his eyes they almost glow green against everything.

Give me Cass unshaded and abstract.

Give me Duke painted in the brightest of bright colors against the darkest of shadows, bonus points if glow-in-the-dark paints were used.

But Tim? Tim has always been terribly difficult to draw, Damian just can't get his face right.

He won't let Tim best him in this way, it's unacceptable, but Damian will not let anyone see his artwork not at it's best. He does everything he can just not to draw Tim's face—his favorite is to spiral Tim's face, maybe he'll leave an eye or paint whatever flower he thinks best represents his brother that day right in the middle.

And Tim just loves it.

The first time Damian painted Tim and gave him the piece, he was uncertain of how it'd be received though he'd deny this with every breath in his lungs. He was prepared for Tim to hate it, to get angry that he distorted his face in such a way—and he could see the same thoughts on the faces of everyone who saw Damian present it to Tim. Why wouldn't he hate it? It'd be disrespectful to anyone, especially if the artist and the muse had such a disastrous relationship. He couldn't be blamed, but Damian was prepared to blame him regardless.

Tim was silent for what felt like hours when he laid eyes on the portrait Damian had painted of him. He hadn't expected any portrait Damian painted of him, if he ever painted one of Tim at all, to make him feel so... seen? Understood? Viewed in a way Tim could have never described?

If Tim cried? That's none of your business.