#I just read son of batman v1 so damian's on my mind | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mintcrash · 7 years

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ok so I haven’t written anything in many mnay years, but procrastination and too Many Comics can do strange things.

Just some drabble which forms some coherent one-shot I guess.

Damian never liked Tim,but after this, he will never forgive him.

Basically Tim has to monior Damian in some ‘mandatory dress training’. Damian is cute and angry, Tim is a good brother, and Dick is less so.

~1800 words, literally don’t know what I’m doing, mindless fluff and poofy dresses.

—

Damian doesn’t know what to do. Damian Al Ghul: Robin, son of Batman, heir to the League of Assassins is absolutely stunned. He’s faced assassins, demons, beasts of unfathomable proportions. He has come so far in his few short years that immortals would be seething with jealousy. He came back from the dead, and he doesn’t know what to do. Trained by the world’s greatest, and here he stands, Tim Drake having frozen him in his tracks.

“You want…I’m sorry Drake, but what?”

“You heard me.”

“Drake, of all thi- this is ridiculous-“

“Yeah, well it’s a compulsory part of the training, and now you’ll fit into it, so get over here and put this on right now or I’m calling Dick.”

“-Tt-,” he scowled as he eyed Tim, glancing between his brother’s innocent, amused expression and the object of questionable origins in his arms, “You would enjoy this, you-“

Tim’s hands went up defensively, a film of glitter gracing his forearms. “Nuh-uh you stop looking at me like that right now demon child. This was definitely not my idea and I just want to get back to my case so if you wouldn’t mind-”

Damian snatched the pile of hoops and fabric from him. Honestly. What kind of family is this. “Well then, whose idea was it?” He struggled to turn the pale pink mess over in his arms, barely catching glimpses of the layers of tulle sticking out from what was presumably the bottom.

“Nobodys! I swear, this is actually a part of training,” Tim grimaced, ignoring the laugh building in response to Damian’s disgusted face, “Bruce makes all of us do it, but seeing as he’s overseas, Dick’s busy, and Jason’s who-knows-where, I’m in charge of…this.”

Damian wasn’t convinced. He could see Tim’s mouth twitching in that insufferable face he made whenever he had something to do with something unpleasant. He’s lying. It had to be some kind of sick Tim Drake joke. After all this time, he should be forced to wear, well, this. Despicable.

“For what possible reason – “

“Hey - don’t get me started runt.” Tim sauntered past the table, grabbing his coffee before planting himself in the nearest armchair with great satisfaction, falling into what looked like the least comfortable position any human being could manage. “I had to learn how to walk in it. Dick had to learn how to dance in it. And – holy cow- Jason knows how to seduce anyone in it, so I’m sure that you, with your mighty mind can master all of that and more. Hey, I have to say though, it is easier than sitting in a pencil skirt, but doesn’t make your butt look nearly as good.”

Damian stared as Tim serenely sipped his coffee. He’d been through heels, and the cursed pencil skirts, but this? He stared at the pile in his arms with distain.

“Why does it have to be pink.”

“Hm? What was that?”

“I hate you Drake.”

----

Two hours, a torn underskirt, a snapped hoop, a broken zip and four fake bras later, Damian Wayne finally came into the lounge so that Tim could assess him.

“Finally, took you - woah”

Damian’s cheeks flushed. He was used to being critiqued and hunted by his insufferable brother, not flattered.

“Well? Stop staring you trout, do I pass?”

His mouth just hung open. What used to be his little demon brother actually looked, well, really good. His hair had been ruffled from wrestling with the dress, which somehow made him look even better. The dress managed to frame his lithe, false-breasted body exceptionally. Alfred was probably the only reason it was still in one piece, and the old, pristine fabric of the training gown caught the fading light perfectly. A river of fuchsia sequins rippled like a tail down the centre, framed by black velvet stripes. A black collar complemented dark sleeves, flowing from a high-waisted pale pink centrepiece, ending in a thick black ribbon. From this stemmed a pink hoop gown, the rich satin glistening in the fading light from the half-open curtains.

Dang, his brother looked better than he ever did in that thing.

Snapped out of his musings by a sharp -tt-, Tim hastily responded, “It, uh- the colour…really, brings out your eyes, I guess.”

“Really Drake? Am I that good that I don’t require any real critique?” Damian swished, hands falling in a naturally petite manner to his hips.

Tim had to hold back a snort. “Well, if you really want to know, you’re as ugly as ever, and need a wig. Your hair is shocking. And your shoulders – I can tell you’re a little self- “

“I am n – “

“Don’t interrupt me, princess. As I was saying, you’re self-conscious. You’ve got to hold your shoulders back, puff out your chest a little - no not like – agh wait, lemme, more like this, see?” Tim stood as close as he felt was a safe distance to the dinosaur in a dress, but pulled himself into a ballerina stance. “It’s like someone’s drawn a string up your spine, yeah that’s a little better, but don’t be so tense, relax your shoulders a little. Yes. Much better.”

Tim continued to give instruction and Damian let himself relax a little. The dress wasn’t all uncomfortable. Besides, there was no denying Drake thought he looked good. At least a little.

After learning to walk, especially up and down stairs holding the length of puffy fabric, Tim called for Alfred to bring in the shoes. Combining them with the dress proved to be…difficult, but he only stepped on the hem twice, and that was because he was trying to stand up and the dress just got everywhere once you sat down.

Dancing was a lot harder.

“You know-“

“Yes, of course I know the waltz, you dimwit. And I am not dancing with you, no matter how much ‘practice’ anybody insists I need.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Tim sat back into his observing station, nursing his third coffee of the day, taking note of his brother’s movements.

“You’re doing the girl’s part, remember.”

“Shut up”

“…Keep your back straight, you’re losing-“

“Mm”

“…Relax those shoulders princess.”

“-tt-“

----

Asides from the occasional misstep in the heels, which left a few new holes in the first layer of the skirt, and his tense shoulders, Tim thought Damian was more of a natural in the dress than any of them had been, except maybe Dick.

“Are we done now?”

Turning his head from a fresh brew, he sighted the pile of fabric sprawled on the furthest armchair. The second pair of heels had been kicked off and a light sheen of glitter rested with them on the floor nearby.

“Sadly, no.”

“What?!” The pile twisted as Damian almost fell on the floor, “You said one more dance-“

“Until I’m done, you still have something else to do.”

Damian’s face could probably boil water, but Tim wasn’t finished. “After this, you can remove the beautiful dress and reclaim your natural demon state. Besides, a normal gala usually goes for at least another twenty minutes. Put on that one pair of heels which you actually liked, and I’ll give my final assessment.”

Damian tutted, pulling on his shoes and staring daggers at his brother before finally straightening up and twirling one more time.

“Fine. Just…hurry up.”

Then Dick walked in.

He froze. Damian stiffened. Tim grinned.

“You…little…”

“DAMI!”

Dick spread his arms wide, soggy hair from his after-work shower flicking drips behind him as he bounded up to his little brother. Damian braced himself for whatever was coming.

“Damian it…you…it’s perfect! You look amazing!” He turned to Tim, “How’d you-“

“With a lot of patience.”

Both smiled like maniacs as Damian suffered their compliments.

“Oh Darlene, your dress is stunning tonight.”

“Oh Diana I love your shoes!”

“Dmitri, that colour really brings out your flawless skin.”

“And your eyes!”

“Did he get the posture right?”

“Most of the time”

“Dami, relax your shoulders-“

“So. I’ve. Been. Told.”

“Oh you have to give me a walk. Come on, just one? I promise I will never talk of this –“

“Shut up. I will, only because I want this torment to end sooner.”

So, Damian did. He glided flawlessly up the room, twirled liked only the finest of socialites, then turned to see – Grayson’s Phone. Abandoning any hints of walking, Damian pulled up the dress, revealing a half-on shoe. With a quick and expert flick of his ankle, it flew off and landed violently on the camera. Tim snorted, sharing a quick smile with the youngest. Dick just looked hurt.

“Aww, come on Dami! It’s compulsory for everyone to have documented photos of all important training events. Besides, Bruce needs photographic evidence of this occasion.”

“Shut up, Grayson. I swear if you show those to anyone I will slice your hand off.”

“Well, I think that about covers everything now.” Tim interrupted before Damian actually attacked anyone. He stood, and with the straightest face and most serious voice he could muster, said, “You have my permission, as your supervisor for this training session, to get out of the dress, until such time comes that it is needed for mission purposes. Also, I’ll have to write all this down, but you really need to work on relaxing your shoulders.”

Damian’s sour expression turned to Tim, “Drake, if you mention this to anyone, I will have a good reason to cut off your coffee supply for a week.” He turned with great flair, radiating an attitude fitting for his outfit, and stormed into the next room.

“Oh, and Damian?” Dick called before he slammed the door behind him, “Just remember, with the whole relaxing your shoulders thing, think of it like swordplay – you only tense before you strike. And if you do ever have to wear one of those, at least you’ll be prepared. Plus, Bruce had to have this training too, so-“

“Wait, what?!? Father had to- “

“Ohohoho yes he did.” Dick’s phone was back up as he searched for the ‘compulsory photographic documentation’.

Damian stalked over as fast as he could, hoisting the dress. Tim rolled off the couch too. He was not going to miss this.

“He thought he should try it out when he made me do it. Justified it as ‘needing practice’ and ‘learning from a woman’s perspective’, but I don’t think anybody his size needs to put themselves through something they obviously can’t pull off. Now where’s…ahah!”

The room fell silent. The air was concrete as Dick held in the fiery laugh building in his chest.

“Is that-“

“Yes.”

“Gets me every time.”

“In pink-“

“Oooohhh yeah.”

“You know it.”

Damian was disgraced. Tim was choking back his laughter. Dick was…well, Grayson was beaming in the background of the photo, wearing the same dress Damian had on now. It…complemented his Father’s.

“Oh he really cannot pull that off.” Tim commented.

“I KNOW, right?! He kept telling me it was for experience but honestly I think he was just enjoying himself.”

Damian snuffed, “-tt-, he needs to relax his shoulders.”

Tim and Dick shared stunned glances before Dick mumbled, “Guess it runs in the family.”

#batfam #short fic #damian wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #on shot #drabble #text #long post #help I don't know #procrastination #honestly I had too much fun #I just read son of batman v1 so damian's on my mind #the evolution of writing is amazing #who needs grammar

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