Monster High: Phantom Year

This is how this would happen, Jason especially

Tim accidently referring to the Joker as Dad but those who know about Joker Jr aren’t present and so everyone is left with the ‘realisation’ that Tim is the son of the biggest nightmare to their family.

It’s probably Jason and Steph, her there to bother Tim but Jason went to the manor for food and the two naturally started arguing. Maybe Jason tells Tim to stop costing on his case and prove a point be made against blonde, but Tim just offhandedly goes, “Later, I think my dad broke out of Arkham again but the guards aren’t doing anything. Maybe they’re in on it…”

The two present naturally look at each other with confusion and for the first time stop bickering to peak over his shoulder and see what his case is because, holy shit Tim had a villain for a dad and didn’t tell us? Only to see numerous photos of the Joker in his cell and many reports over the last week of how he’s been behaving and Jason…

Steph pushes the man out of the room when she sees his face go from frozen fear to anger, thinking it’s towards Tim and his secrecy and, while she totally gets that, now isn’t the time.

Though when they get into the Jason starts a rant about how Bruce and Dick should have told him that the monster had a child, even if that child wasn’t Tim! Jason protects kids! Did they think he’d hurt him just because of who his father is?

No!

If anything, he’d become the kids full time body guard to stop that mad man from making Tim into another version of himself!

The two naturally go to tell the others, pulling Damian, Cass and Duke into a mostly unused room and telling them what they discovered, all while Tim stays in the library working on his case.

Cass is beyond worried but also confused because he doesn’t seem to have any physical characteristics of the Joker or Harley, but maybe the mother is different? Perhaps it’s still Janet and either she had a fling with the Joker or something far worse, which makes the young girl enraged on the woman’s behalf.

Damian makes a comment about him killing Tim, not in a serious manner but more as an option, but Duke shuts it down, saying that having a villain for a parent doesn’t mean anything about who you will be. He points out those in the family of that nature and other heroes like Superboy.

When asked why they didn’t get Dick or Babs involved, Jason says they defiantly know and lied about it.

It’s only after another three hours of working that Tim catches himself referring to the Joker as dad and shuts his laptop, making his way to Bruce’s room to hide under the older man’s bed like he usually does when that happens, only to overhear what his siblings are saying.

Tim presses his ear against the door to hear better.

“If that maniac had a kid, surely he’d have told everyone he had an heir or something.” That’s Steph’s voice, filled with worry that only he and Cass could detect as she hides it under a whiney tone.

Jason is next to respond, “maybe he doesn’t know? I mean, did Tim ever even interacted with him before he became Robin?”

It doesn’t take much more than that for Tim to realise that he must have been talking aloud again or absently answered someone earlier and misspoke in front of them.

Panic fills him as he avoids telling Bruce when he gets bad, even if it’s just a small thing, because the older man will start of being a concerned parent then go into Batman mode and only just stop himself from putting Tim in the confinement cell. Sure Tim came up with the idea of the cell so he wouldn’t hurt anyone if his conditioning got too bad, but he’s learnt the signs. He’s not a mindless drone, he still knows who he is and doesn’t hear someone talking to him or anything like that.

He just… sometimes forgets the Joker hurt him.

It’s not Tim’s fault that memories of watching TV with him and Harley, tucked between them with a big bowl of ice cream felt better than most memories of his real parents.

But he knows it’s wrong, always comes back to calling the Joker his enemy.

Bruce just doesn’t get that.

Tim hears them talk a bit more, theories about who his mother might be, if Tim is safe at the manor, if Joker knows he has a son…

Opening the door, Tim stands there and stares at them as all eyes snap to him in alarm.

He doesn’t let anybody speak, cutting them all off quickly, “He’s not my dad. Go the cave and search for file number 26557933301-JJ and put in the code AGELAST, all caps.”

With that he turns and leaves, walking at first before running to Bruce’s room to hide.

He goes to family dinner and pretends not to notice the quietness or how Jason is still there, eating his food quietly and waiting for the ball to drop.

Naturally, Damian is the one to say what he wants first, “So why is okay that Tim shot the joker but I got in trouble for stabbing Bane?”

Everyone groans.

You know the “Dad, How Do I?” YouTube channel? Yeah, that, but with Red Hood, and they’re unlisted videos that Crime Alley residents share with each other.

It started with goons stealthily taking videos of Red Hood ranting about shitty drug quality that they upload under the title “Boss on drug quality control,” primarily for other goons so that anyone can tell if the supplies have been cut with something and don’t need to waste time asking Hood.

Then videos from civilians start popping up too, featuring Red Hood lecturing street kids titled things like “RH on staying warm in winter” and “RH on how not to get mugged.”

Memorably, there’s a video titled “RH on classic literature (y’all did RH go to college???? Is our crime lord a lit major???)” where Red Hood imparts upon some kids the importance of reading. After a very positive reception, the uploader goes back to Red Hood, asks about a book they’re reading for school, and gets a whole lecture on themes and whatnot. It does numbers and becomes a series, and this time Hood knows the camera exists (he’s always known they exist, he just couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge them) and actually talks to it.

(Jason will do anything to help these children, whether it’s giving them a leg up in school, giving the street kids who aren’t in school some semblance of an education, or teaching them how to shank someone trying to traffic them.)

Red Hood never uploads any videos himself, but it doesn’t matter. Crime Alley crowd sourced its own version of Khan academy and it’s better for it.

Batman may claim to have no powers, but Green Lantern knows better. He’s convinced that Batman’s cape is sentient.

Green Lantern has observed it on quiet nights in the Watchtower, when Batman thinks no one’s paying attention. He releases control over his cape, letting it unravel and float menacingly around him in different directions. It moves on its own, sweeping across nearby surfaces, carelessly knocking over items.

There’s one thing Green Lantern knows for sure—Batman’s cape has a sweet tooth. Every time Batman passes the candy bowl, it’s mysteriously emptied.

Even stranger, it seems to influence other capes. Once, while Batman was talking to Superman, their capes briefly touched, and Green Lantern saw Superman’s cape come to life—swirling and fluttering as though it had a mind of its own. Superman, unfazed, didn’t even react to the way their capes were flapping erratically around them. Green Lantern was relieved he didn’t have a cape.

He told the others about his theory, but they were skeptical at first. They eyed Batman’s cape with suspicion as he was distracted by a mission briefing with Wonder Woman. But even the Flash had to admit Green Lantern might be onto something when Batman’s cape swiped their feet out from under them, sending them both tumbling to the floor.

Martian Manhunter nodded sagely and agreed on its intelligence, having felt the minds of four little beings flitting around underneath Batman’s cape. Maybe one day they’d feel comfortable enough to run underneath his cape too.

Thank you for answering my question, Chancellor. I do agree that it takes alot of precision to work with adventurers, I myself rarely work with my fellow adventurers outside of delving into particularly dangerous tasks that I can't handle alone. The dragons roaming Elsweyr in particular come to mind. I would like to ask what adventurers you prefer to work with. Personally I have no preference, any skill in combat is useful when fighting the dangerous beasts roaming Tamriels wilds. But I wish to know your preference.

Hello Chancellor, I would like to ask what you think of the many adventurers you have encountered over your life, I know I personally have encountered many and worked with more then a few of them.

Adventurers are in their nature like spells.

A couple of years back I've spent several weeks in the Reach, partially for research, partially as a vacation from the Tower politics, partially to clean up something for Moricar. Not the point.

The point is that my (mostly local) companions and I had to get into a set of dwemer ruins preferably undetected, but in the valley in front of us two entire clans decided to have a fight. And that dragged on, as they were on par with each other and wanted to wait until their opponent's defense lapses.

It was summer, so the weather was not on our side - bright, clear air, not anything favoring stealth. So I've decided to help the situation a little and conjure a mist in the entire valley. Now, I am a Battlemage, so things like weather magic I've gained mostly by self-study rather than being actually trained in it. Thus measly mist required my absolute concentration.

It all was fine until I sneezed and then a tornado tore its way through the valley, leaving fleeing panicked Reachmen in its wake. Granted, I am Abnur Tharn, I just put on my best "I meant to do that" face and we went along our way, now that it was free of obstacles.

But the moral of this story is that working with adventurers is like weaving spells. It requires utmost precision. And strong liver.

Damian is 8 years old when he first comes to live with his father. He’s all harsh glares, standoffish arm folding, and clever barbs aimed at everyone’s vulnerable points. He’s also adorable. Small enough for Bruce to pick up with little to no effort, with big green eyes and baby fat still in his cheeks.

Bruce is overwhelmed with emotions he’s terrible at expressing; shock at the fact that he has a biological child, furious that said child was kept from him for 8 years, devastated that the child was robbed of a normal upbringing and instead raised in a cult of death and devout loyalty to a madman, and overjoyed that this little boy has his nose, his eyebrows, and the same black curls he got from Martha Wayne. He mourns the moments and milestones he’s missed. First steps, first word, potty training, learning to read and write. He doesn’t even know if Damian can ride a bike.

Then, six months into living with Bruce, Damian loses a tooth. A lateral incisor, by the looks of it. Not because of a hit to the face or a Robin-related incident—no, it’s just the natural, logical conclusion to a loose baby tooth Damian hadn’t mentioned having until he bit into an apple at breakfast and pop! Out comes the tooth, stuck to the apple, leaving the boy with a gap just left of center in his smile.

This hasn’t happened since Dick. Jason and Tim had lost all their baby teeth before Bruce took them in, but Dick had been so young. Bruce remembers the angry 9 year old who just wanted revenge marching to the Cave, presenting him with a molar and pouting silently for hours. It had taken a mug of hot chocolate to get him to admit that Mary Grayson always sang him a special song when he lost a baby tooth, to congratulate him for being one step closer to adulthood, but he couldn’t remember all the words and Bruce, my mama’s not here, who do I give my teeth to? What do I do now?

Bruce has no idea what Talia did when Damian lost baby teeth. All he knows is that he’s on his feet and rushing toward the boy and getting his arms around him and—

“Father!” Damian will never admit to the indignant squawk that escapes him when Bruce plucks him from his seat and holds him close. “Are you—“

Bruce settles Damian on his hip with one arm and cards his other hand through the boy’s soft curls. He breathes in the scent of apple shampoo and oatmeal soap while peppering his forehead with kisses.

“I will get you a new pet,” he says softly, resting his cheek atop his son’s head. “A kitten, a puppy, anything you want. Just…let me have this, baby boy.”

Damian instantly stops protesting. He huffs and pouts—which, oh my fucking God, how is he so precious?—as he wraps his arms around his father’s neck.

“That is…acceptable,” he grumbles. Bruce kisses his cheek and smiles into his hair.

That’s how Damian gets Titus.

Alfred: Master Bruce… what are you doing?

Bruce: *putting out extra cookies and milk* I think… if I’m extra good… maybe Santa will let me see my parents for Christmas?

Alfred: *stunned* I- Master Bruce-

Bruce: *interrupting him with a pleading look* It doesn’t hafta be for the whole day! I… I just want one last hug, that’s all. I made sure to be extra good this year.

@thefcguy I'm call bringing the pizza, I had no idea who else to tag so eh

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....I did not realize I reblogged so much today... damn ADHD is wild

i want to say someone posted about this before but i can’t find it so here goes:

days after Dick Grayson turns 18, some trashy gossip rag has some article just gushing over how sexy he is. they can’t stop talking about how hot he is now that he’s legal. they talk how about how they’ve all been counting down the days (a la mary kate and ashley olsen) and now he’s fair game.

and Bruce. is. furious.

he storms into his attorney’s office in a rage, demands to send them a cease and desist. he calls the editor of the magazine and tells him that if his son’s name is ever in their magazine again, Bruce will buy the company and burn it to the ground

Dick pretends he doesn’t notice but he’s secretly very grateful.