Batfam As Things Me And My Friends Have Said

The party will be like, “Steve, you have to tell somebody when something is going on. You never tell anybody anything!”

And Steve will be like, “Yes, I do. I tell Robin .”

Then everybody turns to Robin and ask why she doesn’t tell anybody. She shrugs and says she does, “I tell Steve.”

we all know about the weirdly accurate running joke of Batman’s adoption problem

but I raise you

the infinitely funnier idea that All of the Bats are Like That

to the point where all of the teams have an “our bat has acquired a child, I repeat OUR BAT HAS ACQUIRED. A. CHILD!!” program

because if you give a Bat a baby you are not getting it back.

Nobody knows if the Bats actually know how social services work because they will just. Pick up. Kids. Everywhere.

even the Bats who might not want kids of their own are 300% down for a new sibling or nibling

Happy Aro Week!!! 💚🤍🩶🖤

Have this meme I made bc I REFUSE to believe that this is just me sksk—

In a universe where Damian was raised by Bruce since birth and never was told his siblings were adopted

Damian, age 12 helping unpacking things at Dicks new apartment: whos that?

Dick: Who?

Damian: That guy in the photo with you

Dick:

Dick: you mean- my dad? I never showed my parents to you?

Damian: there is no way thats our dad

Dick: our? Damian you- you know I’m adopted right?

Damian:

Dick:

Dick: we are all adopted, Damian.

Damian:

Damian: Even Cass?

Dick: you were there at her adoption.

Damian: I’m twelve! Probably didn’t payed attention to it.

Dick: you never asked yourself why do we don’t call Bruce ‘dad’?

Damian: I thought it was some petty teenager thing!

Dick: I’M 26!

Damian:

Damian: is Tim adopted?

Dick: yes?

Damian: knew it.

i love these normal teens

AU, where Bruce accidentally gets de-aged (physically and mentally), and the first person he bumps in is... Red Hood.

To Jason's defence, he didn't connect the dots at first. He was just patrolling around his usual turf, thinking of nothing in particular, when he saw a small child in a ridiculously serious suit, sulking around Crime Alley. He looks distraught, and considering that he looks rich, it is no surprise - that is not a place for him. So, he is either lost or something happened, right?

He takes the helmet off, as he usually does when he is dealing with kids (they got scared easily) and carefully approaches a brooding baby.

'Hey, shrimp. Where are your parents at?'

That said shrimp turns around, his big blue eyes looking confused and lost, and Jason thinks he looks awfully familiar.

'I am not shrimp,' he protests instantly, pouting at him. 'And they are somewhere... here. We just left the movie theatre together!'

Jason glances at the abandoned movie theatre, back at the little rich boy with a familiar frown, and it clicks. This is his fucking dad. Suddenly, a kid - but it is fucking Bruce Wayne, for sure.

'Was watching Zorro by any chance?' Jason still asks, just to be sure that he is not going insane.

Bruce - and it must be him - beams at him.

'Yes! This is a great movie, by the way.'

Oh, hell. At least, he didn't witness his parents' death just yet. Jason wasn't sure he would be able to deal with his father being so small, and mourning his mom and dad. He would probably cry himself at some point.

'Hey,' Jason calls out for him slowly, squatting down; God, who would've thought that this little shrimp would become so tall and big in the future. 'Aren't you... You must be Thomas's kid, right?'

Okay, yeah, Jason is going to lie to this kid. Because there is no way he manages just to steal Bruce as a stranger to bring him back home; it is still a kid, even if it is his father. Right?

'You know my dad?' Bruce tilts his head, little fingers tugging on the hem of his jacket; suspicious.

'You could say that,' Jason nods. 'Alfie... I mean, Alfred called me. Asked me to pick up a kid, since Thomas and Martha got an urgent call.'

Fuck his life and stupid life choices. What the hell he was even doing? He looked like a mugger; or like a psycho. But Alfred was his best bet - he could call him, after all; ask, well, support his idiotic made-up story.

'No one calls Alfred Alfie but my dad,' Bruce pouts in a very, very spoiled manner.

'Well... I do. We served together in the army,' he blurts out.

His armour, apparently, is enough a proof for the kid to nod slowly.

'Okay. But you gotta take off your strange mask first,' Bruce folds arms on his chest.

...???

Did this kid just agree for an unknown man to take him home? Like this? Who could've thought that this pouty child would become the most paranoid man alive in the future?

'Uh, why?'

'So I can remember your face and do an identikit, if you turn out to be a bad guy,' Bruce smirks stupidly. 'Duh.'

Jason is going to cry. This kid is so cute.

'Yeah, duh,' Jason huffs, but despite his better judgment takes the domino mask off as well. 'Go on, take your time. My identikit should be the prettiest, shrimp.'

Bruce... gawks at him. His eyes are comically wide now, mouth open, and then, he jumps a little closer to him - oh, God, he is jumping when excited? - putting his hellishly cold hands on Jason's cheeks.

'Woah. You look like dad.'

'Uh,' Jason nods awkwardly, and because he is an idiot, adds a joke: 'We are brothers, actually. Just don't talk much.'

...Apparently, little Bruce can't take jokes. Because he lets out an adorable gasp, and throws himself on Jason as if they knew each other for ages now.

'Uncle? That's so cool. You look like Zorro!'

Damn this little kid, and this stupid family. Damn Joe Chill and the night he killed this kid's parents. Damn it all. Bruce might be an asshole sometimes, but he was so... cute and innocent.

'Thanks, shrimp,' Jason slides a domino mask back on, picks up little Bruce with one arm, and grips a helmet with another. 'Come on, let's go home. Alfred will make your favourite tiramisu.'

'You know my favourites?!'

Jason sniffles.

'Yeah. Yeah, I do, kid.'

If he gets so emotional over this kid, he has no idea how worse Dick is going to be once he finds out.

Oh, this is going to be one hell of a night.

Dick: okay so we all agreed we're gonna focus all of our trauma healing, the skills we have gotten by our pain and suffering, and pass those tools along to Damian so maybe impossibly he'll end up a functioning adult

Jason: you really think this will work?

Steph: give him the stability of a family we never got? Damn if you're sure

Tim: idk he was already so traumatized when he got here it could be too late-

Dick: yeah but believe me Bruce is a wayyy better dad than he was with me, he was like 21 and encouraged me to jump chandelier from chandelier in the mansion because he thought it was funny

Jason: all the gentle parenting in the world isn't going to fix the demon brat's crazy genes-

Duke, rushing into the room: everyone shut up and look at this! Damian, tell them what you just told me!

Damian: -tt- I don't see why the fuss-

Duke: Tell them!

Damian: I am planning to retire Robin and instead focus my efforts on becoming a doctor.

Tim:

Jason:

Steph:

Dick: holy shit it actually worked

so my siblings look like twins (they are not) and once again my bullshit brain was like hmmmm batfam. So here. Have some Cass and Tim twin content. Featuring my siblings’ and I’s answers to:

”are you twins?”

-

Tim: we used to be.

-

Cass: Legally? No. Biologically? No. Genetically? Also no.

-

Tim: you can see her too?

Cass: *fucking disappears*

-

Tim: we are, but we were separated at birth so she’s older now.

-

Cass: That’s a long story. So here it is! It all started in the summer of 1783…..

-

Tim: well, not until after the accident.

-

Cass: After the witch got us, no.

-

Tim: She’s actually a failed clone experiment. Or was that me? -

Cass: he’s actually adopted but we are biological twins.

- Tim: yes but we have separate fathers. - Cass: *Ditto from Pokémon sounds* - Tim: Well you see I was an only child for 15 years but around 1444 I was standing in the swamp, covered in frogs, but these frogs had human eyes. They also had human feet but that’s not relevant to the story— that’s when the biggest, Jeramiah, started to speak… - Cass: father actually summoned us from hell so we’re not related in any way except that we both possessed the same body for a while until Tim got a separate one. - Tim: I had one but she died five years ago this very day. She died in a tragic bathroom accident. Fell in the toilet.

Today I fell down the stairs while texting and when I got to the bottom I realized that I had hit the “audio message” function and sent them an entire 30 second recording of it

Content warning for death, blood and description of injuries

Another slice to my throat. More stains running down my armour, rivers feeding the nutrients I no longer need into the ground. You stand frozen, gaze blank. You always do when we die. Blue already lies, eyes vacant and staring, neck angled horribly wrong. I can’t see Yellow’s face. Their back took the worst of their injuries, as they tripped and did not get back up.

My knees crumble, throat gasping out one last time. I didn’t see Green go down, I heard them like I can hear myself. Their cry cut off, because their brain was targeted. Not their throat. My brain is still stuck trying to make broken vocal cords work.

I blink for what should be the last time.

It won’t be.

“Everyone understand?” Purple looks around at us, all jostling in the belly of the plane, trying to break the tension before our last mission. “We only get one shot at this. We’re counting on you.” They look directly at you as they say that, before turning to where the doors will open.

I don’t know why we don’t get one shot. I don’t know why the gods keep rewinding the clock. You’re the only one that initiates change, so you have to know. I think you’re the only other one who does. The fifth try, you took out a guard I hadn’t spotted. They killed me last time. The seventeenth, you found another way in, after the previous one kept leading to traps and dead ends.

I don’t know why I’m granted so many second chances, and I know I’m alone in remembering what came before. I tried to mention it to Green once. It distracted them, got them killed earlier. I stopped talking after that try. I didn’t want to mess anything else up.

We’re getting close, we have to be. I don’t know what try we’re on, but you get better, stronger every time. Sometimes there’s a stupid mistake from one of us, or a weirdly placed guard, but generally, we’re improving.

Out the airplane, land on the roof, take the fire escape to the fourth floor even though it goes down to the third because there’s too many guards on the third, sneak through the vents, avoid the alarms, climb into the lift shaft and into one of the lifts, ride it down to the basement.

Yes, I can feel it. The death by gravity as I was pushed down the empty shaft. Bones crunching, not able to move my legs. Internal bleeding got me that time. A shot through the window of a corridor, so quick I didn’t have time to be surprised. The phantom pains following me into the next try, aches where my body expects to still find snaps.

This try, we get all the way down the final hall to the vault before the tripwire catches you out. We can still make it, we’ve made it past this point before. Footsteps rumble like thunder above as we dash towards the vault door, weapons and equipment flickering through your hands as you search for something we can use. The vault door creeks as it begins to swing slowly, a ticking clock for our team. Blue makes it in, sliding their backpack off immediately to search for the lock picks they will now need. Yellow whoops as they make it in, keeping an eye on Blue while taunting the guards and hurrying us up. The vault door gets closer to shut. Green makes it in, preparing to take up cover fire through a narrowing field of vision. You’re right behind, squeezing through the shrinking gap. The vault clicks as it closes, Purple slamming into it unable to stop their momentum, and me skidding to a halt beside them.

There’s a small glass window through the vault door, and you walk right up to it, staring at us while you try to slam anything into the door. Looking for a trigger to open the metal lock. Running to get Blue or the others to help, but they shake their heads, already moving on. You return to the window, and I smile back. It’s ok. You might be able to make it this time. This could be the one. You could do it.

The door we came through shatters open as guards pour in. We ready our weapons for a fight, turning away from you, who has gone so still. You never stop moving, not unless one of us is dead, but you can’t do that now. You can make it, you can complete our mission and save the world. We signed onto that, weeks of training and trusting each other before we committed to our shot. Helping people, or die trying.

The stench of blood taints the air as Purple and I engage, holding back the guards to give you as much time as we can. Every second gives you more of a chance to make it. Please, you have to make it. You can do this. Dodging a knife and twisting away from the action, I see you, still frozen on the other side of the glass. A jolt in my back, my breath catching and your blank express do the rest.

I blink.

“Everyone understand?” Purple looks around at us, jostling each other. I smile at you, because you are already moving, already checking weapons and ammunition and equipment again. You could have made it that time.

It’s happened quite a bit. Your chance for freedom, for success, very clearly in reach. But then Yellow will get taken out as a warning that we’ve been spotted. Green succumbs to previous injuries. Blue can’t break the locks in time. Purple gets caught in a triggered trap. I stay behind to buy more time. It resets every time. And although it hurts, and the hollow pain in my stomach has me checking the wound really did disappear like they do everytime, I will smile at you. Because you are going to get us through this. You’re going to make sure one of these times, everybody lives. Every death, every injury, is nothing compared to losing any of us.

It may be selfish, and painful, and at times threatens hellish hopelessness, but whenever it gets too much, whenever the danger gets too close, I know you will save us. You will stay with us, and I know you will keep doing so until one try, we all make it out ok. And I would rather that ending than any other.

Player keeps reloading trying to save every ally in a mission, one of their allies remembers every attempt.