#bruce is baby girl | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

faeriekit · 1 month

Text

The Foster Mother

Now on ao3 and VHS release

There was, supposedly, someone waiting for him in the green sitting room.

“…Why?” Tim asked. Most of the usual suspects had already come by to give their “condolences”—former Drakes Industries investors, curious about the newly orphaned heir; fellow socialites, once again flocking in to give and receive sympathies for their “close friends, the Drakes”; gawkers come to see what they could scavenge off of a dead family’s home, never mind that their child was alive.

“She claims to know you, Master Tim,” Alfred offered, kettle in his hand. He spent a moment deciding between different two canisters of tea; a sign of possibly difficult future conversation. “Her interest in your father's estate seemed quite…minimal.”

…Alright.

Tim was still in his formalwear. Dissolving Drake Industries would take at least another year, and plenty of future hours cementing the future home of certain resources in their dissolution, but the outfit probably was more appropriate for whatever oncoming conversation that was about to ensue than his planned change into Dick’s old hoodie and board shorts.

Okay. Tim steeled himself. The self-determination…mostly worked. Whatever. He trudged up into the green sitting room from the kitchen with his usual introduction ready on his tongue.

And then Tim walked into the room.

And then Jazzy was there.

Tim had been three, and Miss Jasmine had been his had been his third nanny. He’d outgrown the wetnurse early on, and his second nanny had been dismissed, so although Miss Jasmine was the third nanny, she was first nanny Tim could consciously remember.

She’d had red hair. She’d been very gentle with him.

She got him up in the morning and put him to bed at night; for the first time, there had been someone who sat with him until he was asleep, reading all sorts of books his parents had left to engage him with as an early genius. Then, when those were over and done as promised to his parents, they got unauthorized books from the library: silly books with made-up words, dinosaur books, books about teddy bears and adventures around the world.

Tim hadn’t been allowed to travel the world. Tim hadn’t been allowed a teddy bear. His parents had thought it would encourage undue attachment.

(It had been the same reason he’d never been given a pacifier.)

Miss Jazz had given him a knitted bunny. She’d said her dad had made it especially for him.

The toy’s name was Bunny and Tim remembered him being very soft.

She didn’t smile all the time, but smiles were rewards that were easy to earn. He finished his meal and she smiled. He finished an educational puzzle and she smiled. He was quiet all through her phone call and she smiled, and answered all his questions once she was done.

Jazzy had been the first person in his life who was there all the time. She’d kissed his forehead after the bath and kissed his scraped knees; she’d carried him in his arms when he was tired and sometimes even when he wasn’t. His parents had wanted him to be independent, proactive, and not clingy, but Jazzy had been someone who he could run to from his bed when he’d had nightmares and someone he could cuddle on her lap with when he’d cried.

She was gone when he was seven. He didn’t remember why. His parents had probably never told him, but still; he'd assumed he'd have found out why eventually.

Jazzy looked the same right now as she looked in Tim’s memories, although she was likely no longer a college student at a nannying gig. Her red hair was pulled into a high bun, her dress modest and conservative from her neck to her ankles. There was a backpack beside her foot. She was sitting, one leg crossed over the other, on the high-backed loveseat in the green sitting room.

She looked up when he came in.

Tim. Stopped in his tracks.

It didn’t matter. Jazzy—Miss Jasmine stood up as soon as she saw him, eyes alight with worry. Foggy memories were swimming to the forefront of Tim’s brain. He couldn’t move.

“Tim?” Ja—Miss Jasmine asked, teal eyes raking over his frame. Tim froze where he was. He didn’t move, wide-eyed and terrified for no reason at all when Miss Jasmine got closer to him, at a distance that was more appropriate for a conversation.

She stood there. Watching him. It felt like his mother had just come home from her trips with Dad, and a ghost of old terror wafted through him as he waited for her to decide he’d done something wrong. Her voice got softer. Her eyes got softer. Why was Tim feeling so wrong-footed?? It was only a former staff person!

“Tim?” her voice was so gentle. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m—“

“M’s Jazz,” Tim croaked. Which. Wasn’t the level of formality he’d been going for, but better than Jazzy. He wasn’t a toddler anymore.

Miss Jasmine was so tall—honestly, was she taller than Bruce? She’d seemed insurmountable as a child; he hadn’t expected her height to truly be so statuesque as an adult.

(Or. Well. Almost an adult.)

She didn’t quite kneel down, but she did stoop lower, as if Tim was small and he needed to be on equal footing in order to have a serious conversation.

He could see all her freckles. Tim swallowed. It was too familiar. Everything about her was too familiar.

“You’re so big now,” Jazzy whispered, looking at his hair, his suit, his polished shoes. He didn’t feel it. “Oh, you’ve grown up so well.”

Thanks, Tim almost said. Something stopped him—something thick in his throat, to impassable to break through.

“I—“ he tried. He coughed. “Why…you… You’re here?”

Jazzy threw him an incredulous look, and then an incredibly wry one. “Well,” she drawled a little too primly, in the way that Alfred occasionally made obvious statements, “I’d think it obvious that when one’s parents have passed away, that those who care about you might come to check and see if you’re alright.”

Which. That didn’t make sense. Jazzy hadn’t come back for any other reason; she hadn’t come back for his mother’s funeral, nor when his father was injured publicly by a villain. Why start now?

“And,” Jazz added, seeing his visual confusion and distrust, “Your parents can’t exactly threaten me with a kidnapping charge for visiting you when they’re dead.” Pause. “Which I am sorry about. My condolences.”

Which. Whiplash. What a statement.

“Uh,” said Tim, who was rapidly losing control over the situation.

Jazzy stood again, and went back to her seat; she didn’t set herself down, though, as she only stooped to grab her backpack. “I am sorry for being unable to visit, although I really wanted to; you were at a very vulnerable age and had already moved into a class a year above you, and your parents should have been less hasty about replacing your main caretaker. The assassination attempts were unwarranted, but they did drive the point home that attempting contact was perhaps discouraged.”

“What,” said Tim. “Assassin what.”

“They were ninjas,” Jazzy offered, as if that was an answer. “Except the last one, which was a former marine. The point is that I do care about you, and wanted to ask if you had any idea where you’re going now that your parents are no longer…available guardians.”

Tim’s mouth opened. It closed.

Jazzy waited patiently.

“…How have you been?” Tim tried, resorting to a part of the script they hadn’t gone through yet.

Jazzy’s laugh was tired, but no less real. It was nothing like listening to his parents titter politely; he didn’t think Jazzy would even know how to fake a laugh. “Well, my brother told me that my former bosses had died, which was somewhat stressful. Otherwise, I’m pretty happy: I live with my brother and worked with him for the last few years. I was going to pursue medicine, but…well. The assassination attempts made it hard to interview for scholarships. I suppose that I could return to that now,” Jazzy mused, attention now elsewhere. She pulled the backpack off the floor and up into her grip. She opened it, and flipped through its contents. “How are you doing? I know that Wayne Manor fosters, but your parents were always rather…hands off. I thought the difference in levels of attention might be overwhelming.”

It was. Tim should be surprised how clearly she sees through him—

—But Jazzy used to watch him stim for almost a full hour after school, twisting Bunny’s arms back and forth until he could calm down. Seeing other people all day had been too much for him. Coming home from his parents’ parties had been similarly stressful.

She’d never been mad at him for it. She held him while he talked and stimmed and talked and talked and talked, and brushed his hair sometimes, or if it was very late and he was very young, helped him brush his teeth through all the medieval execution facts he could name.

“It is a lot to get used to,” Tim agreed quietly. He didn’t want to be ungrateful. He didn’t want to let on anyone about his plan to leave.

He had an out. The papers had already been filed; there was an actor waiting to play his uncle for a custody battle, ready for the fight.

Tim was ready to up and go. It was no hardship to leave all the good things here; anything beat making Bruce stick his fingers into Tim any deeper than they already were, compromising the dynamic they’d already established.

It was for the best.

“I can imagine,” Jazzy sympathized easily. “And I wanted to offer—well. I know there’s probably a lot of choices available to you, but my brother and I recently moved back to Gotham proper for the time being. He’s teaching astronomy courses at the university and I’m filing paperwork for Arkham patients. It’s not so privileged a home, but it’s quieter, and more central in town.”

…Tim’s heart skipped.

He. He couldn’t stop staring. Jazzy stared back at him, quiet and sure. Sure of what, Tim had no idea, but…

Why? Why would she want Tim? There was no way she would be able to get to his trust fund without his help, and he for sure knew better than to enable her ability to leech from him. The last time she’d known him, Tim had been a snot-nosed kid who cried all the time and couldn’t be normal for twenty consecutive minutes. His parents couldn’t even stand to be on the same hemisphere as him as a child. What appeal did this have for her?? What could having a teenager with severe baggage living in her house do for her?

And it’s not like there was any chance she knew he was Robin!

“Oh,” Jazzy suddenly interrupted. “I brought these for you, by the way. Your parents had tossed them out at various points; I’ve washed them since, of course.”

She handed him the backpack by the handle.

…Tim peeked inside.

On top was Bunny, still a washed-out faded sort of pink. He looked as fresh as he had the day when Tim’s parents had ”cleaned out” Tim’s nursery—in other words, a faded, a little gray, and slightly discolored from an old spaghetti stain. His button eyes were big and blue.

And beneath him were books that hadn’t passed his father’s muster as appropriately masculine reading material: The Velveteen Rabbit, with the cover a little scarred from a fierce attack of wet wipes. There’s A Monster at the End of This Book, with a goofy-looking Muppet on the cover, gold spine beat up beyond belief. Art Tim’s teacher at the time must have laminated and sent home; Tim’s dorky, crayon cat proved he would never make it as an artist, but attached to it was a photograph of a grinning boy with a bowl cut and a missing tooth.

Tim stared. There’d been purple marker on his hands and face. His grin looked…really bad, actually, like as if he was baring his teeth because he didn’t know how to smile. There was no formal grace there. Nothing to show the neighbors, nothing worth framing to put into the line of sight of the investors in the office.

Jazzy had kept it and brought it home with her. Jazzy had fished it out of the trash, and brought it with her to give back to him in Gotham.

It was crinkled like it’d been folded, over and over again. Further down in the bag was a crumpled certificate dedicated to “Timmy Drake, for: knowing a lot about octopi”, and a baby blanket Tim didn’t even remember. It had rocket ships on it. It looked as if someone had cut into it with scissors, although it had been obviously and brightly mended with red embroidery floss later on.

Jazzy had only been his nanny until Tim was seven. She had simply been gone one night, and Mom and Dad had been home for ten nights after without help before giving in and hiring Mrs. McIlvane and Mrs. Edith. Ms. Edith had never been so…permissive…with Tim as Jazzy had been.

Tim swallowed. He carefully put everything back into the backpack, unsure if he even wanted to keep it or not. It wasn’t like he could leave it here; he’d be gone, ideally, before the week was out. There was no point in taking it with him if he only planned to live with a stranger until he was eighteen.

“J…” Tim tried. He cut himself off before he could get too informal without prompting. “Miss Jasmine—“

“Just Jazz,” Jazzy corrected politely.

“—Why are you here?” Tim asked, ignoring how she’d technically already answered. He didn’t believe her. “What made my parents fire you?”

Jazzy’s expression turned…soft. Tim couldn’t look at her. Something horrible was welling with it, and he didn’t know how to cope.

“I’m here because I care about you,” Jazz repeated, and knelt beside him. She looked up into his face, and took his hand. Tim didn’t know why. He was practically an adult—he didn’t need this!

“And I was fired because your Mother overheard you calling me ‘Mommy’ on accident when you were tired. I suppose she was insulted, although I’d never know why; it’s not like she was ever home to bond with you in the first place.”

Tim’s throat closed. He missed his mom. He missed waiting up for his parents’ flight home, seeing their headlights outside the window, and knowing they’d bring home gifts from overseas. He missed using Mom’s perfume, and knowing he’d used more of the bottle sitting on her dressed than she ever had, but that it still smelled like her. He missed hearing his Dad telling all sorts of adventure stories and promises through the phone to be home for the holidays, even if Tim knew there was every chance he’d find some other way to spend the time back in Gotham.

And there was some small child in him who missed Jazzy, who hugged him and walked him to the library and made him soup from a can instead of fancy dinners and, who’d never needed to be waited for in the first place.

Tim looked at Jazzy’s round, freckled face.

He swallowed.

Tim moved out before the end of the week, as expected.

#dp x dc #Jazz fenton #tim drake #that one time Tim specifically hired a fake uncle so that Bruce couldn't adopt him #free to a good home #Jack Fenton knits btw #I'm not going to continue this but i thought it was a cool premise and needed its time. Have fun with it if you want to!#this is dedicated to all the fulltime nannies at the library who are fully just college girls raising babies #dpxdc #dcxdp #Jazz said is anyone going to raise this baby and was targeted by ninjas for it #I don't have any future plans BUT there is a moment where Dick tries to sneak into her apt to 'check it out' and she fully Gets Him with a #TBI and a Fenton CreepStickTM #also. parents who try to shape their kids by denying them every form of human comfort and access to their interests. You're dead to me #also also also I'm still a Tim Drake Autistic truther #not NOT inspired by the Say Uncle by Megarakles. This one's for you fellow fans #also. if he goes with her. He gets parented for the first time ever and it Sucks Ass lol.#faer fic

804 notes · View notes

kiachnishsblog · 3 months

Text

I don’t trust people who make Superman shorter than Batman

#superman should TOWER over batman #superman and his baby girl #kiachnish rambles #superbat #batman #superman #bruce wayne #clark kent #superman x batman #clark kent x bruce wayne #dc #dc comics #dcu #dc universe

505 notes · View notes

kartsie · 1 year

Text

Back on my Catherine and baby Jason bullshit😤

#my art #digital art #baby jason #jason todd #catherine todd #dc comics #Batman #bruce wayne #Catherine loved Jason and was trapped in a system designed to keep the impoverished and ill down #give my girl a nuanced story damnit

1K notes · View notes

bruciemilf · 11 months

Text

I think Oscar Isaac should play Harvey Dent because then we'll get Damian bullying him for being short. Meanwhile Jason, 6'5 combat machine, immediately hides behind Bruce when he sees him

#JASON IS SCARED OK #he knew harvey since he was a BABY and probably before even meeting bruce. he does not let anything fly #you best believe that mf has the bat kids *except duke damian and steph* on their best behavior lmaoooo #cass doesn't need any discipline because shes perfect in every possible way to him (girl dad girl dad girl dad girl dad)#harvey dent #two face #damian wayne #jason todd #dc #dc comics #text #bruharvey #oscar isaac

684 notes · View notes

artralic · 28 days

Text

Battinson with Jason vs Battinson with Dick

Give this wet cat of a man a Robin!

Or 2.

Or 8…

#battinson deserves a robin #he is baby girl #he would be the most cringefail dad ever #but he would love his kids so goddamn much #the batman #the batman 2022 #battinson #batman #batman dc #jason todd #dick grayson #batman and robin #dc robin #bruce realizes this is the only way to handle an acrobat child #jason just wants hugs and snuggles

129 notes · View notes

sluggishslugcrimes · 3 months

Text

Bruce: uh, Kent, I need you to pump my gas for the Batmobile.

Clark: why?

Dick: here's a shirt, you read that, it says jersey girls don't pump gas, and I can't do it because I'm not allowed to touch anything highly flammable so please pump his gas.

#dick grayson #bruce wayne #clark kent #superbat #Bruce is a jersey girl #dc too much of a disappointment and a coward not making this jersey man so jersey #where's my Gotham's nepo babies don't pump gas shirts??#DC where are thwy?

186 notes · View notes

redrobin-detective · 2 years

Text

Listen, we know Bruce was traumatized by his parents’ death but I hold that even before they were killed Bruce Wayne was a little weirdo. Like his paranoia and difficulty with emotion and attachment are from that terrible night. But I imagine 8 year old Brucie was OCD as hell and painstakingly arranging and rearranging his things to his satisfaction. He was meticulous, even as a child, very detail oriented. Highly intelligent, showing a boundless curiosity and determination to understand everything from a young age. I bet he was hell to enforce bedtimes on, always to do much to do and too little hours in the day.

Bruce was that kid who dragged bugs in the house for study, pulled down all the books on one shelf so could arrange them in height order, skittered around the house’s many passages like a little rat. He was the kid who was happy and cheerful but a bit awkward from growing up a Wayne, he would much rather squirrel away somewhere with a book considered too old for him than talk with people he didn’t know. He loved the macabre in the way weird little kids too, he wanted to see Zorro for the action and the violent fight scenes. Thomas and Martha Wayne had to listen to their precocious son ask them time and again how they thought they would die and listen to his speculations.

I want the Justice League to have to go back in time for whatever reason and they expect Bruce to be a delightful, happy, normal child. Instead, they find a kid with a lovingly worn Sherlock Holmes omnibus under one arm, an entire bag of raisins in the other, dark circles under his eyes from late nights reading and he’s covered in dust and debris from getting stuck behind the drywall again.

“You’re not mom and dad’s friends,” he’d say in a petulant voice with a familiar set of his mouth. “I’m gonna call my butler and he’s going to kick your butt.” And the whole League loses their mind because Bruce really has always been Bruce.

#Bruce being a perfectly normal child is broke #woke is Bruce was a Weird Little Girl before he ever had trauma #Alfred knocks on his door to call him to dinner and Brucie Wayne is performing a seance to raise his great great grandfather to find treasur #he definitely wrote on the walls and floor when he was thinking too hard and needed to write something down #DEF was that weird kid who liked sneaking up on people and hide in small odd places #No robin can hide from B or Alfred bc baby Bruce absolutely found all the good weird ass hiding spots a small child can wedge into #he carries weird shit on him at all times in case he needs it #he works so hard to be seen as smart and mature #he's a bit of a brat but in kind of a charming way bc he's so sweet and thoughtful #he gives his mom a frog he found in the pond for mothers day #he's still dripping wet and covered in pond scum and grinning so proud as he deposits the frog in her manicured hands #we need more weirdo baby bruce wayne

5K notes · View notes

britcision · 1 year

Text

Oh we like cursed Jazz content in this house

So Jazz’s gotten her degree and a nice totally safe internship at Arkham Asylum, as one does

And one day while she’s hanging in the interview room waiting for her next patient, who comes in but former fellow doctor Harleen Quinzel

Is Harley actually back at Arkham or half way through a break in? Doesn’t matter

Maybe Ivy needed a hand with a particularly well protected shady polluter

Maybe she’s breaking Killer Croc out for poker night

Maybe she’s just visiting to punch Joker in the face

What matters is the heat is on and Harley’s gonna be hanging out in this room, and here’s a cute young psychiatrist and Harley can’t resist a punch line

And Jazz Fenton? Jazz knows when she’s being played with, and she’s fought way worse than Harley

Hell, 10 minutes in she’s reminded so strongly of Danny she’s gotta call him after work

And Jazz has done her research, she knows who Harley is, and is very touched by her concern

But then there’s another rogue attack, the prison is in shambles, and it’s time for a change of plan

Harley’s happy to tell Jazz where to find an emergency buzzer and to barricade the door behind her, hoping the newbie will be safe

Cuz that works out in Arkham for sure

Before Harley can dip the door busts in, someone’s looking for a hostage and Harley’s stepping up for some more active protection of her new friend

Right up until they get shot in the face before Harley can connect and fall smoking to the floor

Jazz is no Poison Ivy, but beautiful, dangerous redheads are Harley’s kryptonite and she’s begging for Jazz’s number

Harley looks back at Jazz and her lipstick gun and oh now she’s in love

Jazz gives her the cute smile and says isn’t Harley taken, because Jazz kind of is now but they can be friends

Harley, competitive, will accept the number and demands the lucky fucker’s name cuz they’d better pray they’re good enough for Jazz

…

Three weeks later, Harley’s at the precinct with vital information about someone’s latest great caper

But she’ll only give it up to Jason Todd

(People know he’s alive only because this idea was precisely 12% funnier than Harley trying to hunt down Red Hood in Crime Alley

Harley’s a god tier psychiatrist and has known who the bats are for ages, but like fuck she’s going to Wayne Manor)

There’s been no hint that Harley was really involved and things are getting tense, but this is Harley Fucking Quinn who exists solely in places she’s not meant to be

They can’t risk not going if she might have something

So Jason, cranky about crimes, puts on his best people face and comes down to an unsurveilled (except for Bats) room to ask wtf

Harley stares him dead in the eye

“I’m gonna steal your girlfriend”

Then just drops street addresses, trap locations, and the fucking key to the warehouse crime was in

Bruce: confused but happy it worked and Harley’s still not back into major terrorism

Jason: fucking befuddled

Jazz: loves it

Ivy: fondly resigned

All other bats: never letting Jason live this down

The ongoing Harley/Hood prank war is fucking epic in proportion

Ivy and Jazz hang out whenever they’re busy and oh dear sarcastic peppy psychiatrists are also Ivy’s kryptonite

So the second Jason even vaguely upsets Jazz he is well aware she has two extremely loving lesbian moms just waiting to snatch her away

Call it Gotham Bachelorette

#dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp #dp x dc prompt #and fuck it maddie fenton comes by one day #and ooooooh lawdy the girls know where jazz gets it from #jazz fenton #harley quinn #the sirens also routinely bully bruce that he can’t adopt jazz #cuz a) she’s dating his son #and b) no black hair that makes her theirs #danny also becomes insufferable about this in very short ordee #being the ghost king means you can be as annoying as at least 3 baby bats combined

2K notes · View notes

xxnomadsxx · 2 months

Note

I can only imagine your Branch giving the most disturbing gifts to show he cares. Ex:

Floyd: Oh man, I always worried Velvet and Veneer are gonna come back at some point

Branch: *Man, I wanna make him feel better hmm*

Cue the next day:

Branch: Here Floyd, this should make you feel safer (Man is covered in BLOOD and holding an even bloodier box) 😊

Floyd (about to pass out): Oh thanks B… what is it??

Branch: Velvet and Veneers vocal cords 😁 (He genuinely believes this will make him feel better)

Floyd: Oh… thank you Branch (He doesn’t want to reject the gift since it is one of the only occasions Branch has shown any of the brother’s affection)

His gifts only get worst from there. The brothers one time mention what happened to the Bergen that ate Grandma??? Branch puts Chef’s skeleton up in display for them to see that there’s nothing to worry about and that she’s been avenged. Meanwhile , BroZone: 🧍🧍🧍🧍

Poppy mentions that Creek betrayed the entire Troll kingdom??? Oh yeah, he tells the hilarious story about the time he was roasted alive and eaten by the village and even offers Poppy a tuff of his hair as proof.

He associates threats being eliminated as comforting and so he believes proof of that are the best gifts, he has good intentions but wtf he’s gotta work on better love languages.

anyways yeah BroZone loses their shit every time this happens but don’t have the heart to tell Branch to stop since it’s one of his main ways to show he cares about them and they’ll take anything at this point.

Honestly no one in the village is good at getting appropriate gifts ESPECIALLY Branch (he’s been living with the feral trolls(?) for years and their love language is violence) so you’re gonna have to forgive them on their very gruesome gifts.

All these situations are basically canon now because the idea is just so funny to me that Branch just pulled out all these corpse parts just to be like “don’t worry you’re safe😁”. Every time he does this his brother are just going through every emotion. It’s sweet that he did the gesture for them but also terrifying when you actually think about it (when he’s left the room, at least two of them puked and Floyd passed out four times) When Floyd is given the vocal cords as a gift the only thing keeping him conscious is the adoration that his baby brother got him a gift, but once Branch left the room, he immediately put the box in the closet and proceeded to puke on the floor. (Originally Branch got the vocal cords after he found out velvet and veneer took Floyd, but I find the idea of him going back for round two just so he can get a trophy for Floyd to tell him he was “safe” even better)

When he showed the skeleton to the brothers they were just too shocked to actually understand what was happening and kind of just went numb for a few minutes, all they could do was force themselves to focus on how happy Branch was so they wouldn’t have a meltdown.(when they later registered what they saw they just cried) When Poppy brought up how angry she is at Creek and how mad she is that he up and left again instead of staying to face his problems!! Branch laughed and said “OH, don’t worry we handled it😁” and he pulled out a tuff of Creeks hair, and hilariously explained the “funny story” of Creeks demise.

Everyone at this point just stops talking about people they don’t like out of fear that Branch Is just gonna come out with their body at any second. They like the gestures of the gift. It’s just the fact that they’re basically just corpse parts in a box that is handed to them with a smile 😊 saying, “I hope you like it” (he eventually stops when explained how messed up it is)

95 notes · View notes