xMultiFandomsx

Mel (she/her) I like writing occasionally

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Tim rhymes with Jim

Tim and Damian having a Jim and Dwight-esque relationship after everything settles down in the Wayne household. Whenever they're forced to occupy the same space, Tim is just relentlessly pranking Damian in mostly harmless, but extremely aggravating, ways. Like he trains Titus to fetch Damian's socks whenever he yawns or to bark at exactly 3:53 am every night. He for sure replaces random eqipment too (never anything important because he's not evil evil, but like a singular smoke bomb with a fart bomb or plain bandages to Red Robin ones). Sometimes, he even hands off fake cold cases to Damian. Super complex, convoluted ones that lead the younger on a wild goose chase throughout Gotham.

It drives Damian mad, just as Tim figured it would. And, of course, nobody believes Damian when he accuses Tim because why would Tim, who has so little time or energy between being a CEO, vigilante, and college student, bother with these elaborate pranks? They have all forgotten that Tim Drake runs on spite and at least 12 energy drinks at any given moment.

Occasionally, Damian hits back. At first, in wildly disproportionate ways. Such as demanding a duel to the death after Tim replaced all his toothbrushes (even his spare ones) with the kiddy ones complete with suction cups at the bottoms and covered in pictures of Disney characters. Or the time he played a high-pitched sound through only Tim's comm every night for a month until the older nearly developed a hearing issue after Tim had convinced him the annual Fall Gala was a costume party. Eventually, things evened out, especially as Damian found his footing in Gotham (and some empathy). Now his plots tended to involve things like leaving an opened durian fruit to rot in Tim's vents and jello-ifying all of Tim's office supplies.

[xmultifandomsx]

That little rascal!

Tim is 1000% the problem child, but no one ever clocks it at first. He's quiet, well-mannered, and an overall easy-going kid. He's not a picky eater, he always gets good grades, and his manners are impeccable. It appears the worst thing he could be accused of is insomnia. Then, you learn that he's got like 20 allergies and would rather have an EpiPen on standby than mention them and inconvenience anyone. His grades are totally fake, like he straight-up missed most of high school after becoming Robin and just hacked the school's online portal so no one noticed. The kid never actually even finished high school. Oh, and he's actually done a lot worse than finding himself unable to sleep for a few nights in a row. He's cheated on his partners, drank underage multiple times ('for the mission'), could be accused of attempted manslaughter/murder, and those are barely scratching the surface. He will never tell you if anything is wrong with him ever, like literally ever. He would rather hide every cold, cough, or brief pneumonia bout than confess he's down a major organ. He will never admit when he's stuck on a case because he should be able to figure it out himself. And, at the end of the day, he's the first to throw a punch for the people he loves. The kid is obsessive (cut to the cloning incident and the timestream incident), dramatic (cut to just about every reaction he's ever had), and a liar to his core (cut to him bald-faced lying to Batman about anything and everything). So yeah, he's a terrible influence and for sure the problem child, but so are the rest of his siblings sooo....

[xmultifandomsx]

sad house, with the sad eyes

When Tim finally moves out of the Drake Manor, all he feels is hollow. He stares at the empty hallways once adorned with paintings and sculptures from ages and places long forgotten. He feels like another one of his parents' artifacts. Just something else to be boxed up and shipped away now that they were gone. At least they got to go home, or at least somewhere close. Tim was stuck in the weird limbo that was Wayne Manor, never quite belonging.

He packs up his room and it's just as messy as when he'd left. Tim knew his parents hated how dirty his room was. They'd both constantly be on his case whenever they were home to clean it up. Maybe that way he kept it messy, maybe he just wanted to give them a reason to talk to him. But that wasn't fair because they loved him and they did talk to him. His mother called when she could and in his last few years Jack had at least tried to show up.

As he packs away clothes that barely fit him anymore, he thinks about his new uncle. And by new he means fake. The one he's conjured up partly as a test to see if he can fool the Batman but also because everyone he loves seems to die or leave. Janet, Jack, Mrs. Mac, Dana, Jason, the list is endless. Keeping himself apart from the Waynes may be for the best. Besides, he tries to to rationalize it, he prefers the professionalism of co-workers that he and Bruce maintain.

He packs up his parents room last. It's almost like a masoleoum to their marriage. Everything is covered in a thin layer of dust and the drawers on Jack's side are mostly empty. Dana had picked through everything back when she and Jack had first moved in together. Janet's stuff remains untouched, as if tomorrow she'd be returning home from her latest dig. Tim plays with the bottle of red nail polish that she'd kept on the vanity, shaking it roughly so the separated layers mixed together again.

Tim knows that his relationship with Jack was complicated. There were too many disappointments, too much hurt between them, to ever really move one but they loved each other. They did, awkwardly but deeply. His relationship with Janet was infinitely more complicated than that. He hadn't been old enough to understand the humanity of Janet before she was gone. Tim had only ever known her as a child knows a mother. She was never really a person, more so a symbol. Sure, she may have missed a birthday here and there but she never forgot a gift and when she'd come back from a dig she always had a story to share. She showed him off at every gala, bought him his first camera and insisted on keeping track of his photography skills. Janet wasn't perfect, he saw that now but she can only ever be his mother. So Tim loves her like a little boys loves his mother and loves Jack like he is flawed, complex person and none of it seems fair.

Standing in the empty foyer, saying goodbye to his childhood home, it strikes Tim how unfair it all is. All he can see reflected back in the manor's shiny floors is a little boy and an empty house. It is a familiar sight but not unwelcome.

[xmultifandomsx]

The Princely Pauper

Maurader's muggle society AU where the Blacks are an old money prestige family that's actually flat broke and Sirius, as heir, is the only one his parents told. Regulus has no idea they're poor and resents Sirius for trying to learn about how the world works (like getting a job and going to charity shops etc) bc he thinks it ruins their image. The Potters are a new money (maybe Fleamont is an actor or something but Euphemia comes from an old money family with titles but their marriage was seen as distasteful since they're from different classes). The Pettigrews are also some random titled, old money family along with the Rosiers, Malfoys, Lestranges, etc. The Crouch's are a family of politicians and the Lupins are a disgraced family who lost their titles a long time ago.

The Mauraders meet at a boarding school for the rich and elite. Sirius eventually can't take the pressure his parents put on him to marry someone rich and with connections to save the family (mainly bc he's in love w Remus) and jumps ship leading to Regulus figuring out the Family secret and panicking. He then, with the help of Barty and Evan, concocts a plan to seduce James for his family fortune. Cue some intense courting via insults and high fashion. Imagine Regulus taking James to galas and commenting on how atrocious his manners are, etc.

Somewhere along the line Regulus really falls for James but Sirius finds out they're dating and crashes out, letting James know that Regulus is just using him for his money in the process. James confronts Regulus and Regulus (who is normally an incredible liar but he just can't lie to James) admits and they have this huge fight. Then Regulus does some grand gesture (or maybe Barty and Evan kick some sense into James) and they get back together. Sirius and Regulus make up too bc they both realize the impact their traumatic childhoods had on their relationship.

Anyways I just thought that might be a cute fic...

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a haunted house

Somewhere along Privet Drive there is a house. It appears to be a very normal house. The bushes are always trimmed neatly and there's a lovely begonia bush out back. The stone path is well worn and the shutters are painted a lovely shade of brown.

The insides also appear to be very normal. The kitchen is well-loved down to the cracked coffee mug that collects dust in the cabinet. The floor is scratched around the table from the chairs scraping. There are three bedrooms each one with a bed and dresser. The carpet is worn down in familiar paths and one of the steps on the staircase creaks.

At first glance, there is a house on privet drive no different than any other house. Indistinguishable from it's neighbors, the house sits unperturbed. Upon closer inspection though, one may start to notice it's oddities.

The begonia in the backyard blooms all year, even in the winter months, and the shrubs never seem to need tending. There are divets in the stone around one of the upstairs windows, as if something had been screwed in around it. The shutters even, at times, seem to droop giving the house a dreary expression.

Inside, there are three locks on the cupboard under the stairs. The cupboard itself houses a small cot, a collection of green army soldiers, and a long-dead torch, all covered in a thick layer of dust. One of the bedrooms upstairs is plainer than the rest, not as many posters hung up on the walls but the ones that are don't seem to come down. There are nails in the walls where pictures once hung.

It's just a house, Dudley thinks when he returns years later. He sits in that cupboard under the stairs with all its locks on the door and repeats this to himself. It's just a house and he was just a child. They both were.

[xmultifandomsx]

dick grayson's conscience

Do we ever think Dick Grayson blames himself for Robin?

It's his name, his cape. If not for him, the mantle would never have been created. Do you think he lies awake at night thinking about all the horrible things that have happened to all the little birds that followed him. Like it's his fault that Jason died and Tim was forced to grow up too soon to help Bruce and Damian also died and Steph lost any real chance of seeing Bruce as a father figure.

Even more so, he was the child sidekick. All those children who followed after him with stars in their eyes. Does he blame himself for their cuts and bruises? Does the blood of young heroes stain his hands?

Imagine him watching Bruce train Damian one Saturday morning. The kid has a black eye but it's not slowing him down. Damian gives as good as he gets, especially when sparring with Bruce. Then, all of sudden, his brother is on the ground, chest heaving. It's nothing major, Bruce's punch just knocked the wind out of him, but something in Dick aches. Most 12 year olds don't know what it feels like to be hit so hard in the solar plexus they lose their breath, let alone having their father being the one to throw the punch. It's not right but then Damian's up and laughing so it can't be that wrong.

It haunts him at night, all those young heroes he never saved. Maybe that's why he trains so hard, is so quick to a fight. He's trying to prove he's not something to aspire to, he's no role model. As if Dick Grayson could be anything but perfect, even with all his mistakes, to a young hero with stars in their eyes. Just ask Tim.

Anyway just imagine Dick Grayson with a martyr complex a mile wide.

[xmultifandomsx]

It's Sally Jackson-Blofis

When Sally Jackson gets married to Paul she hyphenates her name. She becomes Sally Jackson-Blofis. She doesn't do it because she feels any sort of way about the name Jackson or Blofis, nor does she keep Jackson for her family's sake. She does it for Percy. Percy who was the only good thing in her life for so long. The kid she had when she was too young, too naive, too unprepared who never made her feel like a failure. The kid who looked at her with stars in his eyes, who she fought the universe to have. Her sweet, loyal Perseus Jackson. Jackson. She couldn't give up the name she gave him. It was her way of showing him that even if she may have started a new chapter in her life, it didn't erase the one that came before it. A reminder that before she was Paul's wife, she was Percy's mother. She would always be Percy's mom, a fact that she was so grateful for, and she would never let Percy think otherwise for a minute. And when Estelle is born Paul signs a birth certificate that reads Estelle Jackson-Blofis with a smile.

[xmultifandomsx]

Bruce Wayne's Social Media

Concept: Bruce using instagram/snapchat stories.

Bruce posts a lot to his stories. He also lets his kids post whatever they want to his stories. They are a fun way to keep up his ditzy, socialite persona. He posts pictures of his breakfast, a bottle of champagne (it doesn't matter that it's 2pm, Alfred), even just pictures of trees. The point is that Bruce Wayne is posting the most random things frequently. His Snapchat stories are like hours long, filled with pictures of clubs, butterflies, and, weirdly enough, antique swords. The one thing he rarely ever posts is his kid's faces, like rarely ever. And when he does it's usually those weird artsy/pintrest-y type of photos with a filter thrown over them. They're sweet photos, like the back of Dick and Damian as they watch a movie or Cass from the side as she's rehearsing. And everyone just assumes that Bruce Wayne is being protective of his children. That he doesn't want to expose them to the media. Which is fair because none of the Wayne kids really have social media, except for Tim who has a very active Twitter (and a few batwatch blogs that Bruce just pretends don't exist, because ignorance is bliss). What no one realizes is that Bruce is just doing it because half the time he's able to get those soft, cute photos of those kids, it's because they are grievously wounded. That one photo of Tim, snuggling into the couch with his face buried in a pillow? He'd just gotten back from a YJ mission and was on bed rest for his four broken ribs and a minor orbital fracture. That sweet photo of Damian and Titus lying together with Titus's face conveniently flopped right over Damian's? He'd had a busted lip and three abominable stab wounds from a fight with Two Face. The list goes on. Bruce has maybe three photos of his kids' faces online and those have been for the annual Wayne Family Christmas card (the first one kicked up quite the media storm as it featured his once-presumed dead son Jason with no explanation, just well-wishes).

(Jason only does the card because he lost a bet with Dick and definitely does not keep doing it because of Bruce's proud smile when he hung up that first card on the fridge)

[xmultifandomsx]

Youth was wasted on Peter Parker

I think what people forget about Peter Parker becoming Spiderman is that he was 14. He was barely a teenager, he'd barely known life before everything changed. Then, once things had changed, nothing could ever be normal again. He would never get to go to a high school dance, or kiss anyone, or apply for college without the weight of New York bearing down on him. A modern-day Atlas, shouldering a weight that was not his burden to bear. He was a child in clown shoes just trying to wade through life. And Peter doesn't complain, at least not as much as should. He sees it all as his duty, as if all teenagers with powers should give themselves to the world without reprieve. How terrifying that would be, to think the only path forward is self-destruction in the name of public good. He does not get to be superfluous or civilian or free. He is forever chained to a mask and webbing and crime. He is 14 and sees the worst parts of the world, all things kids are warned about but never witness. Peter sees it all, experiences it, fights nightmares every night, and goes to class the next morning because what else is there? In every way that is measured, Peter Parker is a success. He is a superhero, he is a genius, he is selfless and caring, he is exactly the young man you want in the world. And because of all that he's gone through some of the most excruciating pain imaginable. Peter is such a great, twisted example of wasted youth.

[xmultifandomsx]

tim's favorite robin

Dick Grayson is Tim's favorite Robin, hands down, no questions asked. He was the first Robin, his first hug, and just overall magic. If anyone asked Tim who his favorite Robin is he wouldn't hesitate before saying Dick. All that to say, Jason is Tim's Robin. Tim watched the young sidekick grow up and fill out the green scaly underpants. He watched him grapple across Gotham skies and faceplant into Gotham rooftops. He was there for Jason's entire run as Robin, watching from the shadows. Jason was the reason he even ended up in Robin colors. Jason was a good Robin, he didn't deserve what the Joker did to him. To him, Dick was the shiny action figure kept pristine in its case while Jason was the one he took out and played with every day. Dick was the Robin he idolized, Jason was the Robin he knew. Which was why when Jason looked down at him with glowing green eyes and that cruel smile as he slit his throat, it hurt that much more.

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the decimation of cabin 7

Just imagining Will solace returning to cabin 7 after the battle of Manhattan and realizing that he’ll have to clear out each bunk. They had all left in a rush, clothes strewn about in their hasty attempt at preparing for war. Pictures tucked into bed frames and notes hidden under pillows. Will spends days painstakingly clearing out each bunk. He learns things about each of his siblings, things that he might have once teased them for but now he weeps. He packs away sheets that will never be slept on again, pillows that will never see another dreaming head laid to rest. He can’t stomach the thought of letting anyone else help. And so he weeps, alone, putting together each shrine, each box stamped with an address most of them had never returned to. The Apollo kids were close, closer than most cabins, because so many of them had been year rounders. Now there were so few of them. Will weeps as he paces the empty halls of the infirmary. He weeps far more than he’d like to admit. And when the first Apollo child after the war gets claimed he weeps again watching them claim a bunk he’d once removed unicorn sheets off of. Slowly, more and more campers find themselves housed in the Apollo cabin again and Will weeps as each bunk is once more filled.

[xmultifandomsx]

curse that robin

Robin is a curse. The joy and magic that it brings the person under the mask always fades. Nothing will ever be as precious as putting on the cape and mask for the first time. No feeling can describe that first patrol with Batman. It's like a drug and once you're hooked a part of you, no matter how small, will forever be chasing after that high. And when you inevitably lose the high, because you always will, the monster comes out. That mask brought out the best parts of the person under the it but once the mask is torn away those parts stay stuck to it, leaving behind only the ugly and uncertain. When Dick comes home to a younger him carrying his name, his colors, he can only feel betrayal. It was never meant to be a legacy, something to pass along when the wearer grew weary. Robin was his. When Jason is alone, reading article after article all about the newest in a short line child soldiers, he can only feel rage. He had died in that suit, for that cause, and still another stepped into his shoes. Robin was his. When Tim watches as Damian gloats in the suit that had all but been ripped from his hands, he can only feel afraid. Who was he without that suit, without the family that came with it? He had fought tooth and nail to carve out a place amongst the bats and birds. Robin was his. And it goes on. That was part of the curse, to give so much of yourself to the cape that you forget that most important thing. It is a mask, a mantel, meant to be passed on. Robin is no one's. If the bats had it their way, there would be no Robin but Gotham needs Batman and Batman needs his Robin. So, like all the good things in Gotham, Robin is cursed.

[xmultifandomsx]

hard earned lessons

Dick Grayson has lost people before. He has arguably lost more than most. It comes with the job. He used to try and fix his grief, trace the good in his life back to those terrible moments as some kind of twisted explanation. He would never have met Bruce and then become Robin, he never would have met any of his brothers, if his parents hadn't plummeted to their deaths. If Jason hadn't died he would never have met Tim or bothered to eventually patch things up with Bruce. And it went on and on in endless loops, trying to find joy in the grief that constantly seemed ready to devour him from the inside out. Then one day he stopped. He figured it was okay to let the pain hurt him, let the joy sting like a thousand guilty needles. He decided this as he watched another CEO Tim Drake-Wayne clip. He would barely see the edges of the CEO mask Tim wore so seamlessly. Where did Tim Drake end and Timmy begin? It was a different kind of grief to mourn someone living, he realizes. It burns watching from afar, seeing the boy who was once his brother grow up into a young man through magazines and gala smiles. It's cruel knowing that Tim is right there, alive and breathing, but he may as well be dead to Dick. The countless nights they'd spent holed up in his dingy Bludhaven apartment eating enough takeout to give Alfred a heart attack were gone, faded into some comedic sidenote. Hours upon hours of patrolling and training together until they could predict each other's heartbeat wasted because now Dick could hardly even predict when he'd see Tim again. Dick had tried once to fix the mess that was his relationship with Tim. It had only resulted in Tim offering his understanding, explaining gently in that voice he reserved for little, lost kids on patrol that 'Sometimes people just grow apart.' Dick knows there's so much more to it. He can see the wariness in Tim's eyes every time they talk like the smaller boy can see the rising wall of Arkham just over Dick's shoulders. Dick doesn't know what he can do or say anymore. He knows there's so much he could do or say. Too much. So he does what he always does and falls back on Bruce's training. Give them space and let them come to you. But they both know Tim will never go to anyone. So there they wait, immortalized between pages, brothers grieving a living loss. Dick learns that sometimes nothing good comes from grief and the good that comes after grief is not causation. He has Tim to thank for that lesson.

[xmultifandomsx]

don't call tim drake short

Tim hates the short jokes. He wasn't even supposed to be short. When Tim was 7 his pediatrician promised his parents he'd be at least 6 ft. She'd explained to them that based on his current growth curve he'd likely be taller than Jack. His parents had both beamed talking about signing him up for basketball, and his dad had even ruffled his hair on the way out office. Then they'd given him a hug, stepped into their car, and left for a six-month dig in Peru leaving Tim behind by himself for the first time. And when they'd returned eight months later, neither noticed that Tim had barely grown an inch, or that he had undereye bags darker than most single parents, or that the fridge was empty. Jack made some offhand comment after Janet died, some stupid joke about how Tim never quite outgrew him. And Tim, remembering all those microwave meals and coffees for breakfast, just laughs but can't quite meet Dana's eyes. Once Bruce asks about it, having seen some note in one of his medical files from his pediatrician about malnutrition and stunted growth. Tim just tells him genetics are weird, that he'd gotten his grandfather's height, and they move on. Nobody ever questions Tim's height, despite his parents both being over 5'8". They just assume he drew the short straw, assume he drank too much caffeine, assume it was nothing more than something innocent. But Tim, he still sometimes dreams about basketball teams and family dinners and a few extra inches that should've been his. So, yeah he hates when people call him short.

[xmultifandomsx]

Sirius's final thoughts

I like to think that despite how much Sirius hates his family and the Black family roots, they were what filled his final thoughts. Not James, or Remus, or Lilly, not even young Harry. No, his final thoughts were of his dear cousins, specifically Bellatrix. He remembered running through his father’s study, chasing his cousin whose laughter was still innocent. He remembered how her eyes sparkled without malice and how loud she screamed when he caught up to her. Bellatrix was always the wild one and so was Sirius. The short-tempered, ill-mannered black sheep. He loved her with the innocence of childhood, blinded by youthful ignorance to the truth. Before he understood his family, she was his favorite. She was the only one brave enough to put a spider in his mother’s tea and pull the cat’s tail with him. Neither his brother nor his other two cousins, who would sit and read in the small parlor together, would ever amuse him like Bellatrix would. She was the first to go to Hogwarts, he’d heard his first stories of the magical school from her. She was the one to tell him about the stuffy teachers and the secrets that belonged to the old castle hidden in those ancient stone walls. He never told anyone, but it was Bellatrix who had told him about some of his best hiding spots at Hogwarts. Before the wars and ideology ripped them apart, before the mania set in, they loved each other. Perhaps that’s why he looked so shocked in that final moment. He had believed she would still remember that boy who chased her through manors, the boy she’d once loved so dearly. Evidently, however, she did not remember or at the very least she did not care.

[xmultifandomsx]

jason can't use autocorrect anymore

Picture this: Jason having disabled autocorrect on all his electronics. Normally, it doesn't matter. Jason's vocabulary is spectacular and so is his spelling, it's one of those things he's always prided himself on. No one could ever tell he was from Crime Alley just looking at his essays. However, he's not perfect and sometimes it's hard to type in blood-soaked leather gloves so there's the occasional typo. It drives Bruce nuts, like really nuts. And every time he sends in a report with an accidental typo Bruce sends it back with the word highlighted in bright fucking yellow. It pisses him off to no end. So he complains about it to Dickie once after Bruce had just returned his 12 page report having highlighted 'Sucinylcholine' in yellow. Dick takes one look at it and asks, like an asshole, "Why don't you just turn on spellchecking?" Why don't you just meh meh meh, god he's such a wonder boy. And then that weasly, little snake snorts as he types away on the bat computer.

"Yeah," Drake giggles. "Why don't you?"

Jason can't help but grind his teeth, he knows exactly why. Drake is the reason he had to disable it in the first place, even if he can't prove it. It wasn't a coincidence that right after he and Tim had one of their blowout arguments, someone had changed the autocorrect on his phone so whenever he typed 'Bruce' or 'B' it changed to 'Dad' and if he typed 'Batman' it changed to 'Batdad' without his approval. And if that wasn't bad enough, they somehow managed to do the same thing on his laptop. And his burner phone. And his other burner phone. And you get the point. No matter how many times he tried to change his settings or buy new electronics the autocorrect issue remained. See, Jason isn't the most technologically advanced of his siblings but he could get by. Except when it came to smartphones, he was pretty useless when it came to the settings app on his phone. It wasn't his fault, when he died he still had a flip phone! So, try as he might he couldn't really fix it on his own and he was only slightly mortified to ask anyone else for help so he'd just turned off autocorrect and spellcheck in general.

"It doesn't matter," Jason muttered. "It's not my fault B is such a tightwad."

"I think you meant dad," the little shit giggles, taking off before Jason can reach the computer and strangle the asshole.

He fucking knew it!

(Cue Dick just staring after them confused but smiling bc his brothers are bonding)

[xmultifandomsx]

it's the only child syndrome talking

Nobody can tell me that, for the briefest moment, when Sally told Percy about her pregnancy something in him broke. It wasn't his heart or anything like that. Just that little, naive part of him that was still the only son of a single mom who just wanted a family. The little part of him that growing up would blow out a candle in blue frosting and wish for his dad to come home. That part that still would scream into the seafoam hoping his father would just listen this time. Percy was always stuck between worlds like coins trapped between couch cushions just waiting to be discovered. He never quite belonged at Camp with the kids who had no one to go home to or with the mortal kids who never had to look over their shoulder counting down the days till their next birthday. No, Percy never fit anywhere but with his mom in their ratty apartments when it was just them against the world. And Percy liked Paul (probably even loved him but that sort of thing was hard to tell because he'd never had a healthy relationship with a father figure before) which made him feel even guiltier. For a brief second, as Sally is explaining everything, Percy pictures Fredrick Chase and he wonders if this is goodbye. If after this he has to leave because he's dangerous and unlucky and going to be a big brother. The way Sally says it, the desperation in her eyes for Percy to understand, she isn't throwing him away. She's asking him to stay, to be there for this baby like no one was for them. And Percy, the loyal and loving, could never say no to his mom.