black-cat-luck

[black-cat-luck]

Heys can you write the bat boys magically get put (stuck) in their robin costumes and have to go on patrol with them on 🫶🏾

OH YES I CAN

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When the gold smoke disappears around them, everyone still coughing and covering their faces, the first thing any of them notice, isn't that the assailant they're fighting got away, it's that none of them have pants on. "Oh my god." Dick gasps as everyone yells in horror, looking down at themselves.

"WHY AM I NOT WEARING PANTS!" Damian's voice brings all their eyes to him; and when he notices their stares, he quickly covers himself with the cape on his back. "Is anyone de-aged?? Everyone get over here!" Dick quickly jumps into action, grabbing three yellow capes and yanking them to a corner. The petty robber they were fighting is already gone, and they have much bigger things to worry about, specifically the fact that none of them are wearing pants.

"What the hell kind of magic is this!" Jason sneers, using his own cape for cover as well. "Okay we all seem to be fine, no age differences, no personality differences. Did that seriously just make us all wear my old Robin costume?" Dick puts his hands on his hips to overlook the four of them. Jason and Damian look murderous, Tim looks embarrassed. "How would that even work? That's too specific of a spell, maybe if it was our old Robin costumes too, but how could they make it just yours? Why?" Tim thinks out loud, frowning as his cheeks turn red, Dick is smiling when he looks back at him. "Get rid of the grin dickhead." Jason snips, and Dick giggles. "I can't help it, our Robin's look so cute!" He says, earning groans from the youngest two.

"Oh let me have this I never got to see either of you in my suit." Dick huffs as Damian shoves past him, still wrapped in his cape as he shuffles toward the door. "Robin wait we need to go to the cave together!" Dick calls, looking over his belt for his beacon, Tim wordlessly reaches over and presses it, making Dick grin again. "I love you, you freaky little stalker." He giggles as Tim groans in embarrassment and walks away. "Get a grip." Jason says, but Dick is still happy, skipping over to where Damian stands, ears red and not looking at any of them as they wait for the Batmobile to come to them.

"Well, that certainly is a sight." Alfred says as the four boys climb out of the car. "Aren't we cute!" Dick says. "We should've checked him for a de-age curse, sounds like he's been hit." Jason grumbles as Dick glares at him, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm having a great time; this was my costume, I haven't worn it in years! And seeing all of you guys wear it is awesome." He says, looking to where Damian is already yanking the suit off. "You could've given it pants, it's effeminate and embarrassing." He sneers, Dick only rolls his eyes. "I was eight when I designed it, and Robin was built around me, so you're welcome." Dick says, watching as Damian successfully frees himself, he grabs one of his backup Robin suits and starts to put it on.

It's silent as everyone watches, as soon as his suit is fully on, it transforms right in front of their eyes to the Robin suit. "You have to be kidding me." Damian sneers through his teeth, yanking it off again, he grabs his hoodie and sweats he wore earlier before patrol, as soon as they're on, he's back in the Robin suit. Both of his own suits still lay on the floor, looking normal and unbothered. "This is a little less funny now." Dick admits, looking to the other two; who look furious. "I can't wear ANYTHING??" Jason yells, and Tim groans, holding his head in his hands. Dick pries at his domino mask. "This at least comes off!" He says, cringing as Jason's murderous glare pierces him.

"What. Happened." Bruce's voice startles them, they all turn and see him standing in the doorway, he's still in a robe, gauze visible underneath as he holds his middle, eyes darting from one boy to another. Damian has started stabbing the practice dummies to let out his anger. "Hey B! We got spelled." Dick says, gesturing to himself. "And the spell...Put you all in the old Robin suit?" He asks, Dick nods, rocking on his feet as he fights back another grin. "Sure did. Dami's already tried changing, but anything we put on becomes this, aren't we adorable? Look at Tim and Damian in the suits it's so cute." He says, hands showcasing Tim, who hides his face in hands, groaning in embarrassment. "I added pants to the suit for a reason." He whines, still covered by the cape. "I'll give Zatanna a call, ask Spoiler and Batwoman to cover your routes for the night, don't go back out there like that." Bruce says, though Dick can see he's amused.

"Make it quick, I'm dressed like a fucking child and I have shit I need to do." Jason sneers, Bruce's amusement becomes more visible as he looks to the second eldest. "I'm sure Red Hood's men would get enjoyment out of taking orders from an overgrown Robin." Dick says, making Jason stomp off, but with the green boots and the yellow cape, it only makes it funny to watch. Bruce nods his goodbyes to the others and leaves the cave. "It appears Master Damian's suit has remnants of the spell, I'll run it on our end and look for a reversal." Alfred says, grabbing the discarded suit on the floor as Dick sits down next to Tim.

"The suits not bad, just a bit embarrassing being this old wearing it." Tim says after a minute of silence, Dick is startled and faces him; before realizing what he'd said, and smiling. "Aw little bird you like the Robin outfit! Then why'd you change it?" He crosses his arms with a glare as Tim groans. "I was thirteen! It was already embarrassing, I just needed pants, I kept everything else original. But when I was a kid? I looked up to you and Jason in this suit, I always wanted to wear it." He says, and Dick hugs him. "I'm glad you like it, I always did want to see you in it." He says, ruffling the younger boys hair.

Both Alfred's testing, and Zatanna's, say they'll be stuck in them for two days. Damian and Jason are furious, but Tim and Dick are only mildly inconvenienced. Bruce has to make arrangements at Wayne Enterprise for Tim's sudden sickness making him miss those days, and Dick has a friend overlook Blüdhaven for him, but other than that they're doing just fine with the situation.

The table is painfully awkward as they eat breakfast. Jason and Damian have a permanent scowl, Tim's face is a constant shade of red, and Dick is totally normal about all of this. Jason and Damian have found ways to pin their capes shut around them so they're covered, and Tim fidgets too much with his so he just holds it or covers himself with a blanket. Dick just hangs onto the cape and wraps himself up in it.

"What are we supposed to do for patrol tonight?" Damian asks, stabbing extra hard at his pancakes as Bruce blinks tiredly. "Cass is still out of country, Kate agreed to help but Steph is busy, that's not enough to cover all our ground." Dick adds, "hn." Bruce glances at Alfred, whose eyes sharpen into a glare. "Still benched." Bruce shrugs, sitting back as he sips his coffee. "Oracle can cover the ground behind the scenes and direct Batwoman on where help is needed, Blue Bird said she'll take Damian's usual route." Bruce says. "I've got help in Blüdhaven, then we just need to find coverage for Tim's route and J-" "keep your nose out of my territory." The second oldest sneers, and Dick rolls his eyes, holding his hands up in defense. "You don't look as intimidating when you're 6'4 in the Robin suit bud." Dick chips back, Jason's glare sharpens, and Alfred takes the knife next to his plate before he can throw it at Dick.

"So about my route." Tim chimes in, smiling awkwardly as they all look at him. "Tonight's the big deal happening on the harbor you two were going to help me bust." He says, and Dick and Damian's faces fall. "Oh fuck." Dick groans, holding his head in his hands as Jason laughs at him.

"I'm going to kill you when this is over." Jason spits. "Get over it Jay it wasn't even my fault!" Dick whispers back hastily. They're on the roof of a nearby building, watching the drug deal happen beneath them. "I share sentiment with Todd, and will be stabbing you when I have my own suit back." Damian's voice crackles through the comm and Dick rolls his eyes. "Again, not even my fault." "All of you shut up it's happening." Tim silences them, and they all see the hand off. "I will also be stabbing Drake." "Now!"

The four of them come barreling down, landing on top of goons and kicking away guns before anyone can register what happened. "What the fuck?!" One of the dealers yell as Tim swipes his legs out from underneath him. "Yo I heard Harry got a spell on them but I really didn't believe it-" "that's fucking Red Hood!" The man is punched in the face before he can say anything else. "Not tonight." Jason sneers, knocking out another. "We're the Robins tonight!" Dick flips over one of them, wrapping his legs around him; and slamming him into the ground. "Behind you baby Robin!" Damian evades the hit and glares at him. "Robin four!" He defends making Dick giggle as he knocks another man out. "My bad! On your six Robin three!" It's a flying mess of bright yellows and green, four Robins taking them down within a minute.

Jason picks up the suitcase and shoves it at Tim, who groans under the sudden hit and wraps his cape around himself. "They recognized me." Jason huffed, kicking the unconscious goon. "They knew we got hit, doesn't take much to tell who's who when you know what four to expect." Dick laughs as Jason glares at him. "Whatever, let's get this fucking night over with." Jason spits, storming away as Dick rolls his eyes, tying up the last of the goons as Tim waddles with both suitcases in his arms, Damian follows Jason as Dick walks slowly behind the three of them.

They end up spreading out throughout the night. To their luck, it is a busy night and they spend a lot of time apprehending thief's, drug dealers, and muggers while dressed in bright colors as grown men. Tim stumbles across a bank robbery, and with a single signal, the other three are beside him within minutes. "This is gonna get messy." Dick whispers as they hear the glass crunching under the men's boots as they step into the bank they've just shattered the glass of. "No alarm, they disabled it, heavy guns." Tim notes out loud, they all stand up from their crouching positions at the same time. "What a perfect night for the Robins." Dick laughs as they grapple down, and into the bank.

The fight is almost effortless. "He's all yours Robin two!" Dick giggles as he flips out of the way, Jason punches the man he was fighting, knocking him out cold, and shoots a glare at Dick at the name. They fight together well, Tim swipes a man's legs out with his bostaff after he gets Damian in a chokehold, and Jason grabs the barrel of a gun and lurches it upward before it fires where it had been pointed at Tim's head.

Dick ties the thieves up effortlessly as his brothers ensure the safe is untouched and call for the police. "Grown men running around in a toddlers outfit, are you not embarrassed?" One of the men laughs as Dick squats near him, setting up one of his unconscious buddies. "Not at all." Dick smirks as the man scoffs. "What you think you can be your big age dressing like a little hero and Batman will like you and take you in? Think he won't bash your teeth in for parading as his dead boy?" The question startles Dick, who glances at his chest, staring at the uniform. This uniform was his, but the last Robin Gotham saw in it, was Jason. Dick glances over to Jason, his jaw is clenched, and he quickly turns away. Dick glances back to the restrained man, and before he can say anything, Damian whirs past him, punching the man. Dick gasps and grabs the boy, holding him back from attacking again. "You don't know anything you pathetic low-life! My brother made this outfit and it is an honor to get to wear it as the first Robin's had! And Batman thinks we're cute!" Damian shouts, Dick actually laughs as he locks his arms around the wriggling boy.

"He's right, you're lucky you got us and not the big man tonight, insulting us while we're spelled, he wouldn't be too happy about that." Tim whistles as Dick grins. "Oh and trust me, he is around. Better hope next time it is him you run into, cause when this wears off, Red Hood gets his guns back." He's grins mischievously, seeing terror take over the man's features. "Have a goodnight boys!" Dick calls over his shoulder as they leave. He sees Jason already on the rooftop across the street, and he and Tim grapple up to him. Once they're on the roof, Dick sets down a still violently angry Damian, who's brushing himself off and cursing in another language as he stomps a few feet away from Dick. "Cmon Robins." Dick swings his arm over Jason's shoulder. "Let's get home." He yawns, the sun is already beginning to rise, and they hear sirens getting close as they leave the scene.

The next night their patrols are covered, and they stay inside, counting down the last three hours until it wears off. Dick eats dinner with Tim and Alfred, the others sprawled around the house somewhere, all waiting it out.

When the curse lifts there's a chorus of groans in relief. Dick and Damian are already back in sweats and a sweater, having changed into something comfortable so that would be what they were wearing when it did wear off, whereas Tim never even bothered to change, so he's still in his Red Robin gear, typing away at his laptop. Dick mentions changing and Tim waves him off, saying he'll get to it. Dick smiles and stretches, wanting to go to sleep, but as he sees Damian sketching and Tim working away, something nags at him, and makes him walk the direction away from his room.

Jason is in the study Dick knew he would be in. He's sitting in the arm chair, staring out the window as the rain patters against it. He's still in his Red Hood gear, helmet sat atop the table. "Hey little wing." Dick says softly, walking further into the room, but keeping a few feet between them. "I'm fine Dickbird." Jason scoffs, Dick hums, shifting his weight. "I was so caught up about it being my Robin suit." Dick says, and Jason sighs, turning so his back is completely to him. "I forgot it was yours too." His voice is softer now, Jason doesn't respond, Dick watches him intently, unable to tell anything just by looking at the back of his head. "I'm sorry, for treating it like a joke, for encouraging us patrolling like that, I didn't think we'd be recognized, I..I didn't think at all." He stares at his feet for a moment, feeling guilt creeping up his spine. "I could've pushed harder against it." Jason's response startles him, and he looks up again, Jason's still facing away from him, but he responded, that was a start.

"It was nice to be Robins together for a night." He sighs, and Dick has to fight back a smile, waiting to see if he's going to say anything else. "It was a lot to be in it again at first. Couldn't stop remembering the last time I wore that suit was when I died." His voice is softer now, Dick holds his breath. "But I saw how happy it made you, and Tim and Dami really did look cute in it. It wasn't so bad." He sighs, turning to glance at Dick. "I still should've checked on you, and I'm sorry I didn't. Good thing it's over now." Dick tries to lighten the mood, Jason shrugs. "It was nice to be Robin with you Dickhead." He hums, and Dick smiles warmly, walking over and hugging him, despite Jason's complaints and pushing against him. "It was nice to be Robin with you. I know I wasn't so nice back then, but I feel different now, it was actually really nice to see all of us, to see the Robin we used to be, to see what Robin has become." He hums, and Jason nods. "The Robin you used to be, it's all because of you." He murmurs, blushing as Dick hugs him tighter.

"You're still my Robin Jay, always will be." He sighs, finally letting him go from the hug, despite still smiling as Jason rolls his eyes. "Alright well I'm glad you got your two nights of enjoyment, you'll never catch me without pants again." Jason huffs, shuddering as he pats his thighs, where the jean fabric covers them. "Good idea, grown men don't rock it like little kids do." Dick smiles as they walk out of the study, Damian and Tim are still lounging in the sitting room, and Alfred steps out of the kitchen, smiling as he sees them. "Well my boys, you've survived your little spell, I thought you deserved a treat for being so brave." Alfred teases, bringing out a tray of cookies. "You're a god send Alf." Jason sighs, flopping down on the couch and taking a plate of cookies for himself. Neither Damian or Tim look up as they're handed some, and Dick sits on Jason's legs, thanking Alfred. "You're heavy." Jason complains, getting one leg free and kicking him. "You're heavier." Dick mocks, sitting back and turning the tv on. "And you're stuck now so we're watching a movie." He hums, earning grumbles of protest, but nobody actually fights him.

"What're we watching?" Bruce's voice startles them, and he sneaks a cookie from Tim's plate. "Still deciding." Dick replies, mouth full. "Well I can say I'm glad to see you all in your normal outfits, Tim why are you still suited up?" Bruce asks, eyebrows furrowed as Tim shrugs. "Didn't bother to change, didn't matter when I could only wear one thing." He replies, not looking up from his work. "Well, I enjoyed seeing you guys as Robin. It was bittersweet to see you in it again." Bruce smiles warmly at Dick, who smiles as well. "It felt nice to be Robin again, even for just a few days. Never thought we'd all get to be Robin together." He says, nudging Damian with his foot, who scoffs and shoves him away. "When you all weren't attempting to stab one another, it was enjoyable to see you all as Robin again." Alfred adds, walking over toward the mantle, "it's not like we were de-aged, I was a grown man in a leotard." Jason grumbles. "But you were Robin." Alfred says, setting a picture frame down, before walking away. Dick has finally chose a movie and watched it load up as they all glance at the mantle, seeing a new picture none of them saw even be taken, four Robins standing together, Bruce in the corner smiling at them. Batman and his Robins, Bruce and his sons.

Even as the mantle passes down, they will always be Robin.

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this was sooo fun to write thank you for the request!! I love my Robin boys and their brother dynamic <3 hope you enjoyed!!

[black-cat-luck]

Can u pls do Tim and Bruce father son activities ( i love ur writing!!)

YES IVE BEEN WAITING FOR MY TIMMY BOY

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• Tim and Bruce have a very hard relationship. It took a very long time for them to have anything father/son related, and when they did reach that point, it was uncomfortable and awkward for both of them at first. They try, once they get to that point of care for one another, they do try. Tim knows Bruce is trying, and it means a lot to him, so he’s happy to reciprocate, to have this parental relationship in his life.

• Their first father/son moment is after Tim breaks his skateboard. He’s not necessarily upset, it’s just a sight inconvenience, but he’s tired, he’s been really stressed, and this pushes him past a breaking point. Bruce finds him sitting next to the broken board, and wordlessly manages to get Tim to get in the car and go with him. Tim doesn’t ask how Bruce knows what board shop he frequents, or the exact way to get there without directions, but Bruce even goes inside with him, asking questions here and there as they browse, and complimenting everything Tim picks and buys. Tim has credit cards, he has his parent’s money, but Bruce buys it all without blinking before the boy can even try and dig his wallet out of his pocket. It becomes a thing for them, Bruce always finds time to take Tim to the board shop when he wants to go, and always watches him with that same warm smile, just enjoying seeing Tim happy over something a boy his age should enjoy.

• Tim really likes baseball. He doesn’t let anyone know, not since Jack Drake never picked a glove back up or bothered to show up to a T-Ball game after Tim hit double digits. It’s fine, Tim bought himself gear and nets so he could play on his own in his backyard. He stopped playing on a team, and just tossed a ball to himself. He hasn’t had an itch for the sport in so long that when it comes back he doesn’t think twice to dust off a glove and practice his pitch. When Bruce finds him, it honestly makes his chest hurt to see all of the things the boy owns, to see how long he’s spent alone. There’s an extra glove, Tim always had a few of everything. Bruce is a bit rusty, but he’s adamant to make sure Tim never feels alone again, to know he has a home and a father that will play catch with him. Tim cries himself to sleep that night, and Bruce promises he won’t ever be alone again.

• Tim’s one true love is always photography. When he feels secure enough with his relationship with Bruce to show him, Bruce is a bit horrified to know such a small boy was hiding on rooftops just to sneak pictures of him, but it’s a bittersweet feeling to know that little boy was so starstruck, that he adored Batman so much, and if Bruce would’ve known about him before, maybe he could’ve met Jason, maybe Tim could’ve had a father sooner. Bruce takes him to museum’s that have traveling photography exhibits, some with local artists getting displayed. Tim admits a few are his he submit under a pen name, and Bruce makes sure those photos are displayed permanently. He encourages Tim to never give up or let anything ruin his love for his art. Bruce spends early mornings and beautiful middays with Tim, watching him in his own element, more so than Robin, or an act put on for the elites, Tim Drake is a photographer.

• Tim likes to crochet. It started as a small hobby he learned from hours of watching his mother do it, he was always nervous to try himself, but when the nights got lonely he did it as a way to feel close to his parents. He fell in love with it and Drake manor is covered in all kinds of colorful creations of his. He has his own crocheted Batman sweater that he made before merch of the vigilante ever existed, and he still wears it happily. Bruce thinks it’s adorable, and Tim’s first ever gift to him, is a matching one. Bruce adores it, and wears it all the time around the house, and Tim continues making him things. Sweaters he can wear in public (which he does happily), a plush Robin bird that sits above the batcomputer, a tiny Alfred to keep him company when he’s having a hard day. He even makes Alfred small versions of Bruce, and all his kids. He gets a hug, and sees both of them cry when they’re given them. That Christmas everyone is given matching sweaters, and Bruce happily sits with Tim as he crochets, encourages him to pick up his needles when he’s getting antsy during a debrief, or watches him tiredly twist the yarn around his fingers as he waits for Bruce to fill out the mission report before they’re allowed to go to bed. Tim tries to get Bruce to crochet with him, but he just can’t seem to figure it out, so it becomes a bonding time for them to just sit together, and Bruce always compliments everything he makes, just happy to be with him.

• Tim likes to make cakes. He thinks they’re fun, and there never needs to be a reason to enjoy something delicious, so when they’re both benched for a week after a rough mission, Tim drags Bruce down to the kitchen, and makes him help make one. There’s no occasion, no reason. Tim just wants cake, and he wants the enjoyment of making one. Bruce is just happy to spend time with him, and helps with every step. Tim makes the frosting himself, and shows Bruce all the different shades of colors they can make by adding certain amounts of food coloring, so they can have four different shades of pinks and blues for the cake. He’s almost too good at it, like he is with everything, and Bruce feels bad he’s making it look bad, his cursive is sloppy in frosting, and no matter how he holds the spatula, the border is still lumpy, but Tim thinks it’s perfect, and refuses to let Bruce stop helping. It’s a bit messy, leaning a bit to one side, but Tim loves it. He takes pictures, and lets Bruce cut the first slice, smiling wide as they share the piece, commenting on how good it tastes, and how perfect it is because they made it together.

• When Tim has to move on from Robin and become his own person, it undeniably puts a strain on their relationship. They try not to let it, but Tim needs time, and Bruce allows him it. Tim can’t find enjoyment in making cake, or playing baseball by himself anymore, a dreaded feeling that he finally knew how it felt to really be loved, and lost it. He’s still a kid, he’s on his own again, he’s too prideful to be the one to make the first move. A box is left on his doorstep, his Robin training says not to trust it, but the way his name is written, in cursive that it much better on paper than a cake, it leads him to opening it. He finds a small plush bat inside. It’s lopsided, messy crochet barely holding together. It’s from the same tutorial that taught him how to make the plush Robin he put in the cave for Bruce. Batman needs a Robin, he always reminded him. Bruce needs his son, he was reminded. And Tim knew no matter what, he needed him too. Tim never expected to find a family among the manor and the people he now loved that were inside. He never imagined he’d get to have this relationship, because no matter what, Bruce showed him what it felt like to be loved by a father. Bruce didn’t just love him as his son, Bruce loved him as Tim Drake.

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Tim my beloved I want to give him the entire world

Thank you for requesting I hope you liked it!! Thank you for loving my work, I hope you enjoy all my future writings just as much. ᡣ𐭩

[black-cat-luck]

hey! I recently stumbled onto ur fic abt the batkids' reactions to Bruce being badly injured and I just want to say thank you bc I feel like the bat girls never get enough love or fics w em in it. </3

I hope u have a great day/night! :3

Hi thank you!! I love the batgirls (and Duke) and love to include them! I do have moments where I’m not as familiar with them as I am with the Robin boys (unfortunately hyperfixations didn’t extend to everyone) but I am trying to read more on them and get to know them better so I can always include them!! Especially when it comes to something like that request involving Bruce I wanted all of them to be included :) I hope you have a great day/night too!! <3

[black-cat-luck]

Black Cat Luck Masterlist

Bruce:

Dick:

• Planning a party

Jason:

Tim:

• Flightless bird

Cass:

Bats and Birds:

• Batkids reactions to Bruce getting badly hurt

Bruce & Dick:

• Father son activities

Bruce and Jason:

• Father son activities

• Getting mugged

Bruce and Tim:

• Father son activities

Bruce and Damian:

• No One Teaches An Assassin How To Grieve

Bruce and Cass:

[black-cat-luck]

I could be different

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Jason Todd gets de-aged and doesn’t remember anything that’s happened to him, and he doesn’t like himself when he finds out what he’s become.

12.2k words

Main tags: Angst, hurt comfort, Jason Todd

needs a hug, angst with a happy ending.

Ao3 Link:

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[black-cat-luck]

no one teaches an assassin

how to grieve

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Damian is staring forward blindly, hands still sticky from not drying properly, suit still sticking to his skin, eyes still dry from crying all his tears. The room is painfully quiet, the last noise was the door slamming shut, still echoing off the empty walls. Damian is alone, the manor quieter than he’s ever heard it, uncomfortable and thick to sit in.

A new door opens, and Damian’s sight is filled with the face of his eldest brother’s, horrified eyes overlooking every one of the younger’s features, his lips move but no words reach Damian’s ears, his shoulders are shaken, but he doesn’t react, he doesn’t even blink. “Never forgive me.” He whispers, unsure when the words had managed to make their way up his throat, Dick makes a pained face and looks behind them, seeing their father’s bedroom door is shut. “I think you both could use some tea.” Damian hears those words, and then his body is cold as Dick moves his own away, taking his warmth and comfort. Damian seems lifeless again, unmoving until Dick is back in front of him a few minutes later.

There’s new voices now, Damian isn’t listening to anything, letting the hot cup burn his hands as he holds the tea Dick had forced into his grasp. He hears hushed whispers, gasps, curses. There’s other faces in his field of view, other worried hands prodding, pushing, trying to get a reaction out of him. He swats one away, and they’re at least grateful to know he’s aware.

After painfully long minutes, another door opens. Damian feels a chill run down his spine, and he nearly spills the tea as his shaking hands set it down onto the coffee table, head bowed as he listens to the footsteps getting closer, his heart beats loudly in his chest as he waits, and waits.

“Damian.” His father’s voice saying his name makes him cry, eyes squeezed shut as he bows himself lower, hands clenched in fists as he sits in his misery.

“Damian.” Hearing it a second time is near agonizing, he feels like he might throw up, petrified as he hears a few more steps, a new hushed whisper.

“Son.” Damian falls to his knees, sobbing openly now as he bows at Bruce’s feet, entire body trembling violently. “I’m sorry!” He chokes on his words, mouth full of his sorrows and pain, tongue feeling like it’d been split in two, he’s pressing his forehead to the ground, nails scratching at the tile, he’s never felt this kind of emotion, this mix of pain and terror, grief for someone who he can hear the breaths of.

“I know.” Bruce’s voice is soft, maybe it had been soft this whole time, Damian wouldn’t know. He can’t hear anything but his own cries, the ones that escape his lips, and the ones that he’s heard on repeat in his own mind for hours now. A hand touches his back and he flinches violently, worse than he ever has, pushing himself closer to the floor as if he’d been burned. “Please, son.” Bruce pleads, touching his back again, he waits until Damian lets him, and he places another hand on the boy, adding a soft pressure to his fingertips, coaxing Damian to lift his body up. The boy is heavier than he’s ever been, his grief dragging him as low as he feels. Damian cries out as if he’s pained, and Bruce doesn’t relent, eventually getting him to sit up.

Damian sits back on his ankles, face contorted in his despair, Bruce looks like he always has, and that’s what scares Damian the most, hands shaking as Bruce suddenly leans down, and hugs him. Damian is rigid as stone, hands opening and closing as Bruce squeezes him so tight he can’t breathe, face buried in his son’s shoulder. “I know you’re sorry, I know.” Bruce rasps, hands shaking as he rubs Damian’s back through the suit, and Damian can’t respond, his cries get louder, hyperventilating as he crumples in his fathers arms, throat raw as he screams, finally letting everything out of his small body, every noise and desperate cry is muffled in Bruce’s shirt, in Bruce’s arms, in his fathers comfort.

Bruce doesn’t let go even when they both struggle for air and have run out of tears to cry. Bruce lifts himself onto the couch beside them, and holds Damian in his arms just as tight as he had been. His son curls up closer now that he can, entire body engulfed in Bruce’s hold, comforted only knowing he’s in his father’s lap, it’s the safest place he could ever be.

The others are still there, as quiet as they can be, but on edge, alert, nervous and overwhelmed as they can only stare at the eldest and youngest of their family more vulnerable than either have ever been seen.

“I’m sorry.” Damian’s voice is hoarse, eyes sleepily struggling to stay open, staring at Bruce’s jaw, a bit of dried blood still staining the skin. “I know.” Bruce whispers, staring ahead of them as Damian’s hand grips his forearm, almost afraid to let go. “Can you ever forgive me?” His voice is weaker now, almost like he didn’t want to say the words, afraid for the answer. “I will.” Bruce responds, and that’s all Damian can hold onto, he doesn’t, he won’t for a long time, but eventually. One day, he will be forgiven.

“I’ve never felt that pain before. It wasn’t physical.” Damian says, sniffling. “Grief.” Bruce says its name like it’s an old friend.

“Grandson of the Demon Head.” Damian whispers, Bruce hums. “I wouldn’t have been able to get you to the pits in time.” He’s explaining, even as Bruce’s hold has tightened, he knows his father is swallowing down his anger.

“I don’t regret what I did. I regret I had to.” Bruce’s grip tightens if even for just a moment. “I know.” Is all he responds, Damian pulls one of his gloves off, licking his thumb, and wiping away the blood on his father’s throat. Bruce flinches at the first touch, but allows his son to continue. “You’ll forgive me one day. I can wait for that. The world needs Batman. I need my father.” Damian reasons, Bruce’s jaw is clenched, eyes dark as he stares at the empty hall in front of him. “I’ll forgive you.” He says, one day, he knows he will, Damian knows he will, so now they’ll both sit in their grief together.

Damian stares at the slight pink stain still on Bruce’s skin, the same skin he’d just seen torn open, the same blood that Bruce’s body laid in for thirty seven minutes, going cold, stained red, lungs empty of air. Damian knew he would never make it in time to get Bruce into the pits, he knew he wasn’t strong enough, a young teenage boy trying to carry his fathers body across the world to save him? It couldn’t be done, it wasn’t possible. But Damian was the Grandson of the Demon, Damian knew he had many possessions valuable to a hell crawler that would give his father back. It might’ve been easier to forgive, Damian thinks, if the life being breathed back into his father’s body wasn’t a curse. If Bruce didn’t wake up, and know he would never be put to sleep again. Immortality might have been a gift to others.

Bruce does not know what Damian traded for his life. Bruce fears Damian himself, doesn’t know what he traded. Bruce will never know, whether or not Damian knows, he will go to his own grave with the knowledge. A grave Bruce himself will have dug. Bruce is cursed to live through all of his children growing old and dying. Bruce’s own children couldn’t exist in a world without him that he is suffering the consequence of the same love he taught them. Bruce Wayne took on a mantle as both Batman, and as a father, and it is his curse that he is going to have to live with it, for the rest of eternity. Damian is sorry for cursing his father, Damian is not sorry that he couldn’t live in a world without him. No one ever taught an assassin how to grieve, and the son of Batman will stop at nothing to save someone he loves, even if they can’t forgive him for it yet.

[black-cat-luck]

Jason groans as a gun points between his eyes, he’s a civilian right now, standing beside Bruce as the mugger yells unnecessarily at them. What Jason should’ve done, is pull his wallet out of his back pocket and hand it over. It’s been ingrained in all of them to just give them whatever they’re asking for. A wallet is meaningless, don’t act stupid over something as small as money. But Jason is angry. He and Bruce are trying to mend their relationship, and they were having a really good night, Jason was actually happy to be with Bruce tonight, and this asshole just had to ruin it all.

“Y’know what asshole? I would’ve just handed it over no problem but you’re being a real prick and I should just beat the hell outta you for it.” Jason sneers, he takes a step forward and Bruce suddenly yanks him back, it’s a surprising force, and Jason’s view is suddenly blocked, he feels his wallet get yanked out of his pocket, and he can only see the back of Bruce’s head, hearing the sound of the wallets being shoved into the muggers hand. Bruce hasn’t said a word, and the mugger runs off without one as well. Jason is angry now, because yeah wallets are meaningless, and they all carry two so they can hand off one without anything but some cash and an expired gift card, but it’s the principle. Red Hood just got mugged?? Batman handed over their wallets without just disarming the man?

Jason Todd has disarmed men in seconds before, has turned their own guns on them before they can blink, one little gun means nothing in his face, and he learned it from Bruce, he learned it from the man who can break a wrist and pour out the bullets before the assailant can even get a single threat out, so why is Jason now standing here mugged?

“What the hell was that about Bruce? We easily could’ve just-“ Jason stops mid sentence, he’d been angry, his words had a bite to them, and he was ready to just go off, but as he walks around Bruce, he sees him standing completely still, staring where the mugger had been, hands clenched in fists in front of him. He doesn’t blink, he doesn’t even react to Jason’s voice.

“Oh.” Jason whispers, looking around to see they’re in an alley now, having been shoved into it with a gun in their face, threatened by a strange man to give him what they had of value. Jason looks back to Bruce and sees that the man’s face is paler than he’s ever seen it. “Okay, okay B I’ve got you, we’re okay.” He says gently, he wraps his arms around Bruce, and feels the man violently flinch at the touch. “We’re okay, it’s over, we’re safe. Let’s go home yeah?” Jason’s voice is soft as he gets Bruce to start moving, feet dragging against the floor as Jason keeps his arms wrapped around him, they make it to where their car was, just barely a block away, and Jason helps him in, sighing as he starts driving.

Alfred is already ready for them when they get back to the manor. Jason helps Bruce up to his bedroom, and wraps a blanket around his shoulders. “Hey old man we’re safe and home okay? See-“ Jason steps back and waves his hands over himself. “I’m good, you’re good.” He pats Bruce down, trying to get it across in whatever way he can. “We’re okay.” He promises, Bruce still has a distant look in his eyes, fingers clutching tightly at the blanket over him. “Get some rest, I’ll be here.” Jason promises, turning and walking out of the room as Alfred brings Bruce tea.

He’s angry at a lot of things, and he’s angry that Bruce was sent into this trauma response, he’s angry that they were mugged. He wants to go put a bullet between the muggers eyes, but he promised Bruce he would be here, and if Bruce calls for Jason and he’s not here, if Bruce somehow finds out where Jason is, that might send him spiraling further. So Jason sits down, trying to squash his anger away as he flips dramatically through a magazine sitting on the coffee table.

“Little wing!” Dick says excitedly as he comes inside, and Jason sighs, annoyed, but thankful for a new distraction as he skims through some celebrity story. “Dickhead.” Jason responds, not even looking up as Dick plops himself onto the couch across from him. “Thought tonight was yours and Bruce’s daddy son date?” Dick teases as Jason rolls his eyes. “Got mugged.” He says, not missing the way the silence hits them thickly. “What?” Dick ask, worry clear in his voice, Jason’s sighs and sets the magazine down. “We were down by crime alley too, I wanted to fight the asshole but Bruce like…Shut down. He threw our stuff at him and couldn’t even move. He’s been catatonic for a while now, Alf is upstairs with him.” He says, rubbing his temple as Dick’s expression stays full of worry, but also very sad. “That must’ve been so scary.” Dick says softly, and Jason huffs. “The guy was an amateur! I could’ve easily disarmed him and just-“ “for Bruce.” Dick says, and Jason sighs. “Yeah, I’m sure it was, but I was there, I wouldn’t haveve let anything happen to him.” Jason reminds Dick, who sighs in exasperation. “Jay he was scared for you. We all know Bruce has little to no care for his own life, but think about how traumatic it must feel for him to be in that situation again, with you.” Dick explains, and Jason grinds his teeth, not looking at him.

“He’s not always Batman, and you’re not always Red Hood. He was Bruce, and you were Jason, and he was terrified he was going to lose you like he lost them.” Dick’s voice is so gentle it makes Jason angry. “I can protect myself.” He feels like he has to prove himself. “We both know that, but trauma doesn’t care for logic. Bruce probably felt defenseless and scared, and he had you with him, he was scared he wouldn’t be able to save you.” Jason sighs, having no argument. “I know you feel like you have to prove yourself, but you don’t always have to be son of Batman, you can be the son of Bruce.” Dick reminds him, getting up and walking away when Jason doesn’t respond. Dick goes to Bruce’s room, and Jason sits and stares at the bedroom door, and he now has to face his anger as it really is, not how he hides behind it. He’s angry because Bruce was hurt, and he didn’t get to make the bastard sorry for doing this to his dad.

Bruce is okay after a couple hours. Jason is hanging off the edge of the couch, watching upside down as Dick and Bruce descend the stairs, both even laughing and joking about something Jason didn’t hear. Jason gets dizzy as he rights himself, and barely has enough time to blink out the duplicates of Bruce as the man hugs him. He sits on the couch beside him as Jason grumbles, but hugs him back. “Welcome back old man.” He mumbles, unconsciously burying his face in Bruce’s shoulder as the elder man laughs softly. “Sorry Jay, you alright?” He asks, he pulls away from the hug, but stays close enough to still have one arm wrapped around him, the other busy carding his fingers through his son’s hair. “Just fine.” Jason responds, and Bruce sits back, knowing his time of accepted physical touch was up.

“I’m glad you’re okay, I was just waiting here until you were, I’m gonna go find that bastard and shove that gun up his-“ “already done.” Both Jason and Bruce blink at Dick, who’s smiling slyly. “What.” Jason says, eyes narrowing. “Oh he was from metropolis, ran back there right after, I might have let a small not well known forum in on the fact that someone had the nerve to rob Bruce Wayne and put a gun to his sons head, so he was handled before Superman had the time to find him hanging from a light pole by his underwear.” Dick rocks on his feet as both Bruce and Jason stare at him. “Gotham thugs are pretty protective over pretty boy here, some work in Metropolis and had some time on their hands waiting for the train home.” Dick is too casual about it, and it’s also kind of frightening that he can just…Send a hit on a random person; and thugs from Gotham will just, do it?

Neither Bruce nor Jason say anything, and Dick smiles wider. “Didn’t want to worry about you going after him little wing! I’m gonna make hot chocolate.” He says, turning and walking away, leaving the room in the confused and part worried silence Jason and Bruce stare at each other with. “Well, saves me time.” Jason finally settles on, sitting back and kicking his feet up in Bruce’s lap. Bruce is torn between being grateful his son isn’t out there putting himself in danger over this, but also worried that it’s only been four hours, and Dick already has it all handled. “Alright I’m too tired to think this hard.” Bruce decides, sitting back and turning the tv on, his free hand rests on Jason’s legs, thumb rubbing shapes into the boys ankle, and they’re both comforted having one another like this, and even more so when Dick joins them, kicking his feet on top of Jason’s, and Bruce has his eldest two sitting beside him, comfortable and safe.

[black-cat-luck]

Flightless Bird

Tim is not a bird. Tim never needed to fly, but the Bat couldn’t fly alone, and there were no birds there to help him.

Cw: suicide attempt, mention of death/mutilation, metaphors in place of actual events.

1.7k words

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Tim Drake was born without wings. That’s okay, it never bothered him, he never had wings, so you can’t miss something you didn’t have right? Sure he got jealous seeing all the birds flying above them, but it was out of reach, impossible, he just moved on.

Gotham was known for its birds. Famous for it even. The city didn’t have many actually, despite it being known for them, it was only because of the few they did have. The few they had that protected those who didn’t. It was a noble sacrifice, one that they all honored. The birds of Gotham were so beautiful.

Tim would spend countless nights laying on a rooftop and just watching them fly, taking pictures of the way their wings fluttered as they soared. The Bat was the first bird to fly over Gotham. His wings were such a dark black they were invisible at night, and Tim only knew so much because he’d watched a feather drop, right into his lap, and it’s his most prized possession, he keeps it with his favorite picture of the Bat.

The next bird was just as beautiful, maybe even more so. Blue Birds wings were the same pitch black, but at the very tips, his feathers were a beautiful bright blue, shining as the fluttered and danced in the sky, his way of flying seemed like a show, like he was performing. He was so effortlessly mesmerizing, it made everyone want to be him, want to feel that freedom; that surge of protectiveness over those beneath him.

The third bird was breathtaking, his wings weren’t as black, a lighter shade; but a blood red on their tips. The Crimson bird flew more jagged, like he wasn’t following any direction, bouncing through the air, flying higher than anyone could ever hope to, diving straight toward the ground, and lurching himself back up last second. He seems to be playing, having fun as he reached unimaginable places, his call echoing off the tired city that watched him soar.

Tim was so happy to just watch them, every night he stared at the sky, stared at them. Plastering his walls in pictures of them, dreaming one day maybe he could fly too.

Then the Crimson bird stopped flying. It tried to stay as a whisper, but soon everyone knew, the birds wings had been cut. It was devastating to everyone, but especially the Bat. Tim could never mourn not being able to fly because he never could. But he also couldn’t imagine if he could fly, only to have it taken from him, he knows that’s not something anyone could come back from.

The Bat doesn’t fly like he used to. Tim sits there with his camera, waiting, and any time he does see him, he’s flying too low, he’s being reckless, he’s scaring people. The Bat isn’t supposed to fly like this, the Bat needs to fly in the sky or the people won’t trust him anymore, or it will all have been nothing. His call is softer now, sad. It reminds Tim of a mother bird calling out to her little ones, knowing they won’t answer, they can’t answer, they can’t fly.

The Bat needs someone to fly with. Tim has had this idea in the back of his mind ever since he saw Blue Bird fly. It’s stupid, it’s reckless, but The Bat is in trouble, and Tim so desperately wants to be like them, to know how it feels, to fly.

He’s always been a genius, it only makes sense that he was able to make his own wings. They don’t take long, it’s something he’s been planning out in his mind for a decade. They’re a bit clunky, but he makes them look real, he can’t risk anyone knowing they’re fake, he’s a fake. The Bat needs him, and he needs the sky.

He only has one chance, he reckons. He knows a simple few flaps won’t work, he needs distance, he needs air, he needs to throw himself off a seven story building, giving himself enough time to fall, enough time to catch himself. If they don’t work, well he won’t be alive to have to face the embarrassment of being found dead with a pair of fake wings on.

He weighs his options, nerves overwhelming him, but as he looks at the sky, there’s no stars visible, no wings cutting through his vision. The Bat needs him, he reminds himself. He has to do this.

He leaps from the building, swallowing back a scream as he opens the wings, he flaps once, steadies his breath, and catches himself halfway down. The wings flutter seamlessly, and he cries out happily, lurching himself upward, flying in circles, cheering and crying as he sees the city below him, sees the height he’s gained on the world, sees the stars closer. He did it, he can fly. And now The Bat needs him.

He doesn’t take it well. No matter how hard Tim tried, he knows the wings are fake, and he’s scared for the danger the boy now faces, but he doesn’t put up a long fight. Tim is glad he made it when he did, afraid the Bat might lose his ability to fly if he didn’t get help soon.

He’s kept at an arms distance, he’s often referred to as the Crimson Bird when he’s barely glanced at, and he’s okay with that, he really is, because he can fly. He can fly alongside the Bat. It’s the best feeling he’s ever had.

The Crimson Bird’s wings are displayed in the Bat’s cave. It’s disturbing at first, seeing severed wings, red in spots that isn’t from his natural feathering colors, so large, but still so small. So full of life, but dead, cut from the same life they had left. Tim doesn’t look at then often, a sickening reminder that he is not meant to fly, and a bird that was had that taken from him. Tim can’t hold the guilt for a bird he never met, he just can’t. He’s holding it too much for the Bat right now.

Tim continues to upgrade his wings, and eventually, the Bat helps him as well. He didn’t want to match any of them, afraid that might cause a bad reaction, so he dyed his tips green, and when the Bat hadn’t said anything, he kept his color. He learned to fly like it was breathing to him, it was easy, it was flawless, he was a bird.

The Bat was better, he treated him kindly, he fixed his wings, he viewed him the same way he viewed his other flying partners. Blue Bird was not happy at first, he was worried about Tim being a boy, not a bird, he was worried about the Bat not doing what was right, but Tim proved himself; and the Blue Bird welcomed him as well.

Tim knew this was not a situation he would end happily in, but he thought he might have longer. He’d hoped.

The Crimson Bird attacked Tim when he wasn’t expecting it, when he felt safe in his home, when he felt like he was one of them. His wings were destroyed, his own body hurt worse. The Crimson Bird seemed ready to kill him, his wings had grown back, but they weren’t right, they were completely red now, they were crooked, the feathers felt like daggers.

When Tim recovered he fixed his wings and he tried to carry on. It had been so long, he’d been welcomed as a bird, he’d earned his place. He wouldn’t just give it up like this, not when he’d fallen in love with flying. He had it now, he would mourn the loss of it.

He could exist around the Crimson Bird, he could avoid him. But then the baby Bat arrived. He was everything Tim couldn’t be, and his wings were green. Tim watched as the Bat soared with him, watched as his real wings fluttered in ways Tim fake ones couldn’t. Tim was driven out, Tim was never a real bird. Tim was almost killed again, the wings destroyed again, but the Bat was too busy to help him fix them, to pay attention. What did he need a boy for when he’d gotten back two birds?

Tim had done what was needed. And now he was no longer needed. He was right, about being not able to come back from losing your wings once you’ve had them. He knew this all was a mistake, he knew he should’ve left it alone, but he so badly wanted to fly, and now he was left flightless, alone.

It doesn’t take long for him to find that seventh story building again, and let himself tip over the edge. He doesn’t have wings, he doesn’t have fake ones, he doesn’t have anything. He’s close to the ground when he feels a sudden searing pain, and he’s caught, falling unconscious from the pain, he’s carefully set back on the roof of the building, a bird sitting close by, waiting for him to wake up.

When Tim wakes up he’s in agony, crying as he reaches for his own back, scared to feel feathers. He sees someone in front of him, and yells in shock as the Blue Bird smiles sadly. Tim feels his wings flutter and cries in pain and confusion, hands shakily touching his wings.

Wait, his wings? Tim’s cries turn to a happier sound as he lurches himself upward, feeling his wings flap, it’s natural, it’s a part of him, he’s a bird. The Blue Bird flies with him, he brings him home, he promises him he’s safe. Tim is happy to be back, happy to be greeted by the Bat, to be welcomed home.

The tips of his wings were now red, though it was a much lighter shade than the Crimson Birds, Tim wasn’t just a bird, he wanted to be acknowledged for all he had done, he wanted everyone to know how proud of him the Bat was. So he was Red Bat. He flew beside them, and he earned his place. He flutters his wings and flies higher than he ever has, he was a bird, and nobody could take that from him.

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Thank you for reading! If there’s any confusion about the metaphors here’s a bit of an explanation •*⁀➷

Batman was the first vigilante in Gotham, he’s a bat, bats are winged creatures = The Bat was the first to fly

Blue Bird and Crimson Bird had wings, they could fly with The Bat = Dick and Jason were brought in by Bruce and became Robin alongside Batman

The Crimson Birds wings were cut, he couldn’t fly anymore = Jason died

The Bat needs someone to fly with = Batman needs Robin

Tim Drake was born without wings, he had to make his own = Tim was not chosen to be Robin, Tim had to make himself Robin.

Tim’s wings were broken twice and he was pushed out of the birds nest = Jason and Damian both tried to kill him, and viewed him as an unworthy/fake Robin

Tim grows his own wings and flies = Tim proved himself as a Bat like the others, and returned as Red Robin.

Hope you enjoyed! ᡣ𐭩

[black-cat-luck]

Can you do dick and Bruce father son activities

I sure can!!

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𖥔 Dick being Bruce’s first ward (son) means there was a lot of awkwardness at first. Bruce took him in because he saw himself in the young boy after the accident, and when Dick was hellbent on vengeance, Bruce wanted to make sure he didn’t go down the wrong path; he wanted to lead the boy to a better life. But, Dick was still just 9, and he had a whole childhood ahead of him.

𖥔 Bruce wasn’t ready to have to be a parent, to have the birds and the bees talk; to make sure Dick knew not to get peer pressured or let anyone walk over him. So when Dick is almost eleven, he’s changing out of his Robin suit as he looks at Bruce, who’s changing out of the Batman suit. “Can we go to Disneyland?” He asks, and Bruce furrows his eyebrows; looking at him. “What?” He asks, genuinely startled by the question. “I dunno, my birthdays kinda coming up and I’ve been wanting to go, and you’re like, super rich.” Dick says with a shrug as Bruce continues to just stare at him, cogs turning as he blinks. “Yeah, we can.” He answers, and Dick beams a bright smile, skipping away happily. Bruce just watched him punch a burglar in the face and laugh at him for crying, but Bruce has a tendency to forget that Dick is not just Robin, he’s still a little boy.

𖥔 They have a blast. Bruce takes them to Disneyworld, and a few other parks and attractions, spending a few days just experiencing it, and enjoying their time. Dick tells him multiple times how grateful he is, and still talks about it even as they get older. He cherishes their time together.

𖥔 Dick breaks a few chandeliers. It’s not his fault, he’s been getting antsy, and how is an acrobat supposed to just sit still? Bruce has an unused ballroom in the manor redesigned, with professional equipment installed. Every type of rope, trapeze, and safety mats are all readily accessible for Dick. The last few chandeliers survive, and Dick spends every free moment in there. Bruce often watches him under the guise of “coming to bring lunch, but not wanting to disturb him.” Dick tries to get Bruce to join him a few times, saying he’ll show him all his tricks, but Bruce is not a fan, and prefers his feet planted on ground, so he just sits there watching Dick, both of them with a smile on their faces.

𖥔 Dick was a fan of baseball, so he occasionally makes Bruce play with him. It’s a bit too father-son, throwing a ball back and forth, it makes Bruce’s chest tight, but Dick is happy, so he doesn’t voice his nerves. Bruce is barely twenty three now, he wasn’t ready to become a father. He thought he was just doing Dick a favor, but when the little boy gets distracted, and the baseball makes his noise bleed, Bruce shushes his cries, and wipes up the blood; promising you’re okay, I’m here, I’ve got you.

𖥔 Dick is extremely compassionate. More so than Bruce has ever seen in someone. He joins Bruce to many things as the billionaires new ward, and the charity events, and volunteering makes him feel better, makes him feel like he really is making a difference. But then he sees crime scenes, places they were too late to, dead children. Some even younger than he is. He wants all the pain and suffering in the world to just go away, but he doesn’t know how to make it, he’s not strong enough to get rid of it all. So Bruce starts wrapping him in blankets and putting on children’s movies.

𖥔 Dick is adamant that he’s fine, he just got a little sad, he’ll get over it, but this movie about a rat that can cook really is interesting, so he gives in. Bruce doesn’t leave him, whether it’s fear over the boys mental state, or just enjoying sitting with his son and letting him eat popcorn out of his hand so he doesn’t have to break free of his blanket burrito, Bruce isn’t too sure, but he enjoys it regardless, and he’s not going to leave his side. He makes sure Dick is covered up and not in a position that will hurt his neck. He turns off the tv and presses a soft kiss to his temple. “Goodnight.” “Goodnight dad.”

𖥔 Dick likes to paint. He never takes it too seriously, but he’ll still find himself in the garden, trying to match the shades of the flowers as accurately as he can. Bruce joins him, they don’t say anything, they swap brushes and squirt out new paint for one another, listening to the birds chirp, looking at the beauty all around them. Dick’s painting is just of a few flowers, some grass underneath it. Bruce’s is a lot more detailed, a lot more beautiful. It’s the garden in its entirety, and there’s a little red bird sitting on a flower. It’s a Robin. Dick keeps that painting in his bedroom. Bruce keeps Dick’s painting in his office.

𖥔 They learn a lot of things together when it’s just the two of them, they face a lot of emotions when they’re both living their first lives, and are struggling to figure it all out together. Dick doesn’t want to end up like Bruce, Bruce doesn’t want Dick to end up like him. Dick sees himself in Bruce and it terrifies him. Bruce still sees Dick as a nine year old boy even when they’re eye level now. Dick finds that painting from all those years ago when he’s unpacking in Blüdhaven. He didn’t want to pack everything up and leave that manor an empty husk of what his life was, but after all the screaming and fighting he had to. He couldn’t take it anymore. He hangs the painting above his bed. He crawls under his covers, wrapped up like a burrito, and watches a little rat cook to get everything off his mind. Bruce had never been a father before. Dick had never been a son of Bruce’s before. They had to figure it out together, and right now meant being apart, but Dick knew he would find his way back home, they still had a lot of growing up left to do together.

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I know this was written differently than Jason’s was but it had to be, Dick was Bruce’s first son, they had to figure life out together, and it’s a bitter but sweet thing for both of them. I hope you enjoyed, thank you so much for the request. ᡣ𐭩

[black-cat-luck]

Would you be able to do how the kids react when Bruce is hurt really badly

yes!! I love this :]

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Dick

𖥔 He panics. He’s the strong one, he tries to remain level headed to keep everyone else calm and so they don’t send themselves into a panic attack, he is always calm and collected in stressful situations.

𖥔 But oh god that’s a lot of blood. In this moment he isn’t actually sure what happened, he doesn’t even remember who they’re fighting, where they are. A pained cry escapes his throat as his hands press over the bleeding wound in Bruce’s chest. He hears yelling, the others trying to get him and Bruce somewhere safe, trying to get Dick to tell them how bad the injury is, what can they do?

𖥔 “I-I don’t know!” Dick cries, every second of training, every hour spent learning how to stay calm under stress, stay levelheaded, assess the dangers around you first and never let your guard down, it’s all left him. He can’t move, he can’t breathe, because Bruce isn’t breathing, Bruce is bleeding out in his arms.

𖥔 Thankfully for Dicks sake, this was a league mission, so he doesn’t have to be the collected one. Superman is able to get both of them out of danger, he speaks close to Dicks ear, not because the boy is listening, but because the comms are on and Alfred is already readying the batcave for their arrival.

𖥔 Bruce makes a perfectly fine recovery, and Dick is mortified by how he reacted. He knows Bruce will be disappointed, he knows he will be shamed for letting himself be so weak, risking not only his own life, but Bruce’s by leaving them vulnerable in the battle field. Instead Bruce sets his hand on Dicks head, ruffling his hair softly, before his expression becomes serious, hand gently holding his cheek. “I’m here Chum, you don’t have to be embarrassed for being scared. I’m sorry for worrying you.” He says, and Dick cries again, laughing wetly. “You nearly died and you’re apologizing to me?” He asks, it sounds ridiculous. “Yeah, cause I know I would’ve been the same if it were you.” Bruce says it effortlessly, and Dick leans over, hugging him, careful of the healing wound. They’ve both lost too much to be able to lose each other, and that’s what’s the scariest, that they wouldn’t be able to survive losing anyone else, and they can’t promise they won’t. Dick just has to remain strong, and make sure he always has Bruce’s back so this never happens again.

Jason

𖥔 Jason’s anger has always been his strong suit. He was the happy Robin, the cheerful little boy that bounced on his feet and laughed and joked even in dire situations, and that was his weakness. He would’ve been inconsolable if he had Bruce not breathing at his feet like he does right now.

𖥔 But now Jason is angry. He would never admit it in a vicinity Bruce can hear, but how dare they try and take his dad from him? It’s easy for him to let his anger take control, to be violent and bloody because Bruce can’t see him murdering right now because he himself was just almost murdered. It’s not an almost yet, he hasn’t taken a breath in three minutes. Jason can hear it all, through his own blood rushing through his ears, he hears the others talking; he wants to tune it out, he wants to ignore it but he needs to know when Bruce is okay, when he breathes again.

𖥔 Fuck Jason hates the guy, he can’t stand to even look at him but he’s fighting back the sick rising up his throat as he hears his own thoughts. What if this is it? Bruce can’t come back from this. It’s over. The last thing Jason ever said to him is I hate you.

𖥔 Jason finds the man that stopped Bruce’s heart, and screams in anguish as he tackles him to the ground. His guns are thrown aside, his mask is yanked off his head because he’s killing this man. Not a bullet, not Red Hood, Jason Todd is killing this man. He didn’t kill Batman, he killed Jason’s father. His hands shake violently as they squeeze at his throat. He can’t hear the commotion anymore, he can’t hear anyone’s words, his eyes shine green as tears fall past them.

𖥔 I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. He’ll never be able to take it back. He’ll never get to apologize, to mend what was broken, to forgive Bruce and get to be his son again. He’s just a weapon, he’s just a solider, he’s a murderer. The man’s neck snaps underneath his hands as Bruce takes in his first gasp of air.

𖥔 Jason slowly stumbles to his feet, shaking as he faces the others, there’s looks of disgust, of horror, of understanding. Bruce is struggling to his feet, looking at Jason, even with his cowl on Jason knows he’s afraid, he’s confused, worried.

𖥔 “Let’s get home Bat, you need rest.” Jason wraps Bruce’s arm around his shoulder, dragging him along. Batman doesn’t utter a word, nobody does. Jason slams the door to the Batmobile shut, bloody knuckles going white from how he grips the steering wheel. He swerves recklessly, he’s crying, his hands are shaking, he can’t breathe and he’s terrified, all of his adrenaline crashing as he swallows back sobs. He can’t forgive Bruce, he’s tried to kill him himself, why was it any different now? “Thank you, Jason. I love you son.” Bruce rasps, and that’s why. Jason can’t move on because Bruce is right next to him; and he’s alive, and breathing, and Jason is his son.

Tim

𖥔 Tim is scary. He’s seen Bruce worse than anyone ever has. He’s been through it all, he dragged Bruce up from the ground, all while Bruce clawed at him and tried to stay buried. Tim is scary when Bruce is nearly killed, because he will stop at nothing to make it right.

𖥔 Bruce is put into a coma. To the media it was a car accident. To Tim, it was watching Bane snap Bruce’s body over his leg, breaking his spine; nearly killing him. Tim was on auto pilot after it happened, quickly assessing the damage, demanding Oracle to send help, to Nightwing and Red Hood to stage an accident, they need civilian clothes, Bruce Wayne needs immediate medical attention.

𖥔 Tim Drake-Wayne sits in the hospital room, watching Bruce only able to breath because of the machines he’s connected to, body stiff, bruised and cut up, a small incision in his skull to let out the swelling. A medically induced coma to save his life. They’re not even sure if it will save him; time will only tell.

𖥔 Nightwing says he’ll handle it, he’ll get Bane dealt with. Red Hood makes it clear he’ll be killing him now that Bruce can’t stop him. When Dick and Jason visit the hospital room Tim is already gone. Tim has already set his own plan into motion.

𖥔 Robin doesn’t kill because Batman doesn’t allow it, and because Tim fears it would push him over an edge he doesn’t want to face. Tim does not directly kill. Bane’s henchmen and goons are simply in the building when Tim watches it explode from a rooftop a safe distance away.

𖥔 Tim watches as car bombs, and traps that end in blood splatter are tripped, as men stagger into deaths they could’ve easily avoided, I mean really how are these people working for Bane and falling into their own deaths so easily?

𖥔 Over the course of a week they’re all ticked off, like a grocery list. Tim moves quietly, effortlessly. He’s already gone by the time anyone thinks to look. He’s never seen by the time anyone tries to make a guess on who it might be. When Bane is the only one left Tim is reaching his breaking point. It’s been seven days, seven days his father has been comatose, teetering dangerously close to brain dead, to never waking up. Tim sees Bane and his reserves from before are slowly slipping away. He’s never been this angry before.

𖥔 Nobody would believe a witness that says Robin shot Bane point blank and disappeared. Nobody would listen to a bystander that was high off his mind when he swears he heard the kid scream that his father might never recover and it’s all his fault, before spraying the wall with brain matter. Nobody believes Robin would ever do something like that because he’s just an innocent little boy, Batman doesn’t kill, where would he even get a gun?

𖥔 On the ninth day Bruce wakes up, and Tim is beside him, he doesn’t let anyone see him cry, so he only smiles and hugs him; whispering how grateful he is that he’s okay. They call a nurse in, Bruce is groggy but coherent, there’s no damage, no risk.

𖥔 Dick arrives exhausted, having been patrolling as Batman to keep Gotham from being suspicious. He’s still got a smidge of eyeliner not fully wiped off when he hugs Bruce, eyes studying where Tim sits, hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket. He smiles innocently and Dick nods. Tim knows Dick is aware of what he’d done. Tim doesn’t mind that Dick knows, because Tim knows Dick won’t tell anyone, because Tim doesn’t regret what he’s done, and he will do it again if he is pushed to that point.

Damian

𖥔 Damian is never one to be perceived as weak. He will not allow anyone to even think he could ever be weak, he is never weak. Ever. He doesn’t show emotions, he isn’t just some kid. He is a trained assassin, he is stronger than anyone that could challenge him. He is the son of the Bat. He is Robin.

𖥔 Damian’s pride gets the best of him sometimes. It was a simple mission, sure Batman is bleeding but he’s walking it off, telling Damian it’s just a flesh wound, he’ll be fine. They don’t have the Batmobile tonight, and when Bruce reaches to call for it, he falls.

𖥔 Damian is immediately racing to his side. He tries to catch him but he’s too late, and it’s probably for the best because Damian forgets how small he is, and how heavy not only his father is, but the extra hundred pounds of armor in his suit. Damian struggles to push Bruce onto his back, panting as he overlooks him.

𖥔 “Father! Where is your wound?!” Damian shouts. Bruce makes a choked noise as blood drips past his lips. Damian remembers him clutching a side, but he doesn’t know which one, he doesn’t know much right now, his heart is racing, his hands are shaking, and he finally yanks the cape back to see the blood pouring from Bruce’s side. “It probably hit a kidney father why would you insist on it being a flesh wound, do you have any idea how bad this could’ve been if you’d left it??” Damian is still yelling, despite Bruce being unconscious.

𖥔 Damian tears at their emergency gauze with his teeth, he’s applying pressure to the wound, but it’s getting slippery and he stumbles, he’s patched up wounds before, why is this one different? Why won’t the blood stop? Why is he alone with Bruce getting paler and paler with each passing second?

𖥔 Damian is not weak, he does not need help, but he is scared. The blood is not stopping, the gauze isn’t working, Bruce is not responsive. Damian stares at his bloody hands as he starts to panic, hyperventilating as he searches for his emergency beacon, for his comm, for anything. His hands are slipping, he’s covered in blood, he can’t breathe.

𖥔 “Robin I’ve received your signal what’s wrong?” Red Hood’s voice through his ear makes the tears finally fall, and Damian gasps for air. He hears other voices chiming in, everyone live on the comms, and everyone hears him crying.

𖥔 “Robin, deep breath, give us a report.” Nightwing says, they want him to breathe, but they need to know why he can’t in the first place. “Batman is down. I cannot stop the bleeding, I cannot move him on my own. I need immediate help, he is unconscious, and getting critical.” He manages out, throat rough as he tries to swallow, as he stares down at his father as the blood begins to pool to his knees.

𖥔 “I’ve sent his location, Red Robin and Red Hood are the closest. Robin they will be there in three minutes, I’ll help as I can, what happened?” Oracle asks, and Damian takes a shaky breath, relief and guilt overwhelming him, but he hears Nightwing’s voice encouraging him to breathe; and he follows his instructions.

𖥔 Damian tells her everything that happened, what rooftop they’re on, what he did to try and stop the bleeding. While he’s still steadying his breathing with Nightwing Red Hood arrives. As Jason is putting pressure on the wound and instructing Damian to grab gauze, Red Robin arrives, and Tim quickly takes over, leaving Damian sitting and watching as they patch him up in seconds, and Jason is able to lift him up and carry him effortlessly by himself. Red Robin knows him and Robin are not the closest, but Damian is still shaking, and Tim wraps his arm around him and carefully leads him down to where the Batmobile has pulled up. Damian doesn’t speak a word, and the drive is silent once it’s announced over the comms that Batman is secure and inbound to the cave.

𖥔 Damian doesn’t leave his room. He’s embarrassed, ashamed, upset. He was too weak, too defenseless. Bruce lost a lot of blood, if they were any later he might have not made it. Jason was strong enough to lift him, Tim was fast enough to stop the bleeding and wrap him up, all things Damian failed to do in ample time. Even when Alfred notifies Damian that Bruce is awake and well, and would like to see him, Damian does not leave his room.

𖥔 The others give him space, so he’s especially angry when his door creaks open. He looks up with a sharp glare, only for his expression to immediately fall when he sees Bruce slowly limp inside. He’s shirtless and wearing more gauze than skin, holding his side as he carefully steps inside. “Father what are you doing you are on bed rest!” Damian hisses, rushing to his side, he holds one of Bruce’s hands and gently leads him to his own bed; sitting him down. “You wouldn’t come to me.” Bruce smiles as Damian glares again. “I would have, I’ve been busy.” The boy huffs, walking away to distract himself, to not have to see Bruce. He keeps his back to him and pretends to shuffle through papers on his desk. “You know I once fell on Dick when he was Robin?” He suddenly says, making Damian freeze, not responding.

𖥔 “Poor little guy was smaller than you, damn near squished him like a bug. It’s not often Batman falls, but I had a rule with every Robin, if I do, step out of the way. If I’m down, call for help. I would never expect one of you to be able to gather me up on your own.” Bruce hums, and the backs of Damian’s eyes sting as he listens. “I’m sorry for worrying you, and I’m sorry you were alone.” Bruce adds, and Damian faces him, using anger to mask the tears welling in his eyes. “I’m Robin, I’m Batman’s partner, I need to be stronger, I need to be able to be alone.” He sneers, he’s only angry at himself, but he needs to get it out; and he needs to tell it to Bruce, he needs to prove he’s not weak. “You’re also my son. And eleven years old. You cannot be expected to carry a full grown man that’s bleeding out, nine miles on your own. I wouldn’t expect that of any Robin-“ “Todd and Drake seemed to be able to do it perfectly fine.” He spits, his jealously finally mixing in.

𖥔 “Neither of whom are Robin anymore. Jason who’s taller and bigger than me? Tim who’s seven years older than you? They wouldn’t have been able to do it when they were Robin either. It is not a weakness of yours, it is not a weakness of your age, it is simply that you are a boy, and you cannot lift a grown man, I couldn’t lift myself at your age.” He says, laughing as Damian swallows thickly, still not accepting it. Bruce extends his hand, and Damian takes a few steps closer, still looking anywhere but at his father. “You are not weak my son, you should not be disappointed by last night, you were able to call for help when you needed it, you saved me. I couldn’t be more proud.” He says; pulling Damian into an unwilling hug. The boy is stiff, but doesn’t move out of fear of hurting him.

𖥔 “I will be stronger next time.” He whispers; and Bruce hums, kissing the side of his head. “You will be. I will too. You are the son of Batman, hold your head high, you are not weak.” Bruce whispers, and it’s the most comforting thing he can offer Damian, speaking to him the way he knows he needs to hear. Damian will be stronger, Damian won’t let himself lose his father.

Barbara

𖥔 Babs strong suit was being behind a screen. It was what she was best at, better than anything. She loved it, she loved helping people, making a difference, getting to see it all unfold and see people saved again, and again. She held her title as Oracle with pride. Batman wouldn’t be nearly as successful as he is every mission without her. Well, he might be able to be successful, but it wouldn’t be as fast if Babs wasn’t behind him already getting it all done before he has the time to even ask. She prides herself in being a needed ally, more than just a side player that helps occasionally. Batman often offered her the same encouragements, and acknowledges her hard work, and how much she helps them all.

𖥔 It was supposed to be a quiet patrol. Bruce is by himself tonight, Damian is sleeping, Tim is with the titans, Dick is in Blüdhaven, and she’s casually finishing some case files while Bruce sits and watches the city, both of them enjoying the quiet night.

𖥔 Barbara is scared into focus by the sound of an explosion. “Bats??” She asks, quickly typing away, pulling up his footage, and zeroing in on whats in front of him. Bruce moves like he’s injured, a villain attacks him. They’re wearing a mask, she can’t tell who it is. She pulls up the nearby cameras, watching the fight from all angles. She finds where he came from, running the plates and all information on the car, but it reports stolen, and the villain doesn’t match the description as the little old lady that registered it.

𖥔 “Bats talk to me who are these guys?” She calls, pulling up everything she can, Batman hasn’t said a word, and she knows he’s injured, she sees him lose his balance, she hears the scuffle, the back and forth, and then everything goes dark. Every last camera and screen is black. “Bat!” She shouts, trying to pull it all back up. It’s not her system, everything else is working fine, but those few cameras she needs, her comm with Batman, all of it is dark.

𖥔 She stares forward in shock, what the hell happened? She tries not to panic over losing Bruce, assuring herself it’s just some alleyway goon that Bruce will have handled in minutes, so she tries to dive into who this is. She runs everything, vocal recognition, pulling up the neighboring cameras to search for who this is, where they came from, how they snuck up on Batman.

𖥔 Everything leads to a dead end. Barbara curses and slams her hands on the desk, anger overcoming her as her heart starts to beat faster. Why has Bruce still not told her he’s okay? Why hasn’t he fixed the comm, or found a way to send her a signal. Everything’s okay, bad guys apprehended, I’m fine. Where was her reassurance? Batman never goes dark like this, and the fact that everything is turned off from her is terrifying.

𖥔 She pulls up any possible lead she has, anything that could connect her to this, anything they could use. She thinks she’s finally found something when a camera pulls back up; and she gasps, Batman is laying on the floor, not moving, blood underneath him. Then the camera goes black again. Her whole screen is black and she can see her reflection in it, staring in her own eyes. Her hair is down, and the dark of the screen hides her features from her view, and she cries. If she was Batgirl she could help Bruce, she wouldn’t be here defenseless, grasping at straws as Bruce lays at a villains mercy. She doesn’t know if he’s even still alive, if he’s still breathing, she’s just sitting here while Bruce suffers.

𖥔 Barbara has never felt less than the others just because she worked from the safety of the watch tower, she never felt like she wasn’t as vital to them, to helping. But now she does. She’s scared, she’s angry, why can’t she just help him.

𖥔 “Oracle?” Jason’s voice echoes over the comms, and she sighs shakily. “Bat is down, I’ve lost all communication, and all nearby cameras went dark. I’ve just sent you his address, can you get to him?” She asks, voice weak as she stares at a map, seeing where Jason is, only a few miles from Bruce. “On my way. Who is it?” He asks, and her throat is thick as she stares at the screen. “I don’t know. I couldn’t figure it out.” She rasps, it’s humiliating to say out loud, it makes her sick. She doesn’t know, she’s supposed to know. She’s the one that always knows.

𖥔 “All done, Bats is good.” Jason’s voice shocks her. “Wait what??” She replies, and the cameras are all live again, she sees the goons unconscious on the floor. Jason has Bruce’s arm slung over his shoulder. He looks directly at a camera and waves. “They had an interceptor or whatever, knocked everything offline. B might have a headache but he’s fine, they were just some thugs trying to get a jump on him. Gcpd’s already closing in, but I’m bringing some tech back, one of ‘em had something that looks like a homemade vertigo headband, can you look into it?” He asks, and she sniffles, hastily wiping at her eyes. “Sure can; bring it on down.” She sighs, relief washing over her. Bruce is okay, she’s back online, everything is okay.

𖥔 Bruce sits with Barbara as she types everything into a file. He’s benched until his concussion heals, and she’s putting it all into files to save in the bat computer if the thugs he fought ever become a problem again. “You did good.” Bruce compliments as she saves it all. “Hm?” She responds, glancing at him. “With your system going dark, you did good, you still led Jason right to me, still got it all resolved. Thank you.” Bruce says, and she smiles, pride welling in her chest as she nods, facing the computer again. Despite her worries and fears, she didn’t need to be Batgirl to help him, Oracle was who got Red Hood to Batman and helped even when it all went dark; she still did her job, and she did damn good at it.

Steph

𖥔 Steph is an accident with a bat symbol on her chest. She doesn’t try to be, but her need to prove herself, and her fear of her fathers footsteps makes her jump the gun, it makes her so desperate for validation she cuts corners, and makes things messy. She really doesn’t try to, and because she’s so young and anxious she doesn’t realize what she’s done until it happens, and then she’s humiliated and knows she will be looked down upon even more after.

𖥔 So it’s only fitting that one time she cuts corners, it ends with Bruce unconscious, head bleeding, arms still wrapped around Steph from where he’d shielded her with his own body. Steph was not supposed to be on the ground, this was a simple mission, Robin was supposed to be his eyes in the sky, not trying to assist him, not getting herself caught, not getting stuck in an exploding building where Bruce himself gets caught in the explosion to protect her from it.

𖥔 Her need to prove herself is out the window when she shoves Bruce off of her, gasping violently as she sees the way his body rolls limply, the way he doesn’t move, the way his cowl is dripping blood and it’s begun to pool underneath him. She took on this mantle, she wanted to prove she wasn’t like her father, she wanted Bruce to see value in her, and now he might be dying because of her.

𖥔 No, no, no, no. Steph is yanking his cowl off, wincing as his head hits the ground again, making a wet noise from the blood already spilling from it. “Hey, Hey Bat? Cmon, wake up now.” She pleads, voice shaking as she presses gauze to the wound, watching it immediately turn red, she swaps it for a new piece and takes a shaky breath, looking around them. The goons left when they set the bomb, they knew Batman would be too busy trying to save Girl wonder that they could escape, so they’re alone, the Batmobile has already been called to them, so Steph stands and hooks her arms under Bruce’s, yanking upward.

𖥔 She struggles, and pants and cries, but she manages to shove him ungracefully into the car, panic beginning to overwhelm her as she jumps into the drivers seat, fiddling with the shifts and buttons she’s still not too familiar with. Thankfully it has auto-pilot, and kicks itself into gear, speeding down the road as Steph taps at the screen, blood smearing across it. “Hey A, B is hurt real bad. Are you home?” She asks it casually, laughing as her panic rises up her throat, her heart racing as she glances at Bruce.

𖥔 “Yes, I will be waiting in the cave.” Alfred responds, and she swaps the gauze on his head, tears finally starting to fall as she looks at his face. Did she really let Bruce die just because she wanted to be strong? Bruce is bleeding out just because she wanted to prove she was different, prove she could do it. “I’m sorry B.” She sobs. She just wanted to make him proud, she wanted him to care for her the way he cares for his sons, even when she keeps him at arms length and doesn’t let him view her as one of his kids. She doesn’t want a dad. She told them. She has a dad and he’s a bad person and she’s going to prove she isn’t.

𖥔 “I’m sorry dad.” She rasps, staring at Bruce’s face as they come to a screeching halt in the cave. Alfred has Bruce laid on a table and the bleeding has stopped within four minutes. Steph sits, still bloody and crying as Alfred moves fluidly around her, getting Bruce stable, assuring her he is just fine.

𖥔 When Bruce wakes up Steph hands him her Robin costume. He furrows his eyebrows and takes it, still confused. “I almost got you killed trying to prove myself.” She tells him; and he sighs, opening his mouth to respond, but she stops him. “I can’t follow orders, I endangered you, I endangered myself. I can’t be Robin, I can’t live up to what they were, and I don’t want to. I’ll prove myself to you, and I won’t let you get hurt because of me just to do it.” She sounds mature, less scared. Bruce sets the suit down and nods once. “I do not regret doing what needs to be done to save you. I would do it again.” Bruce responds. Scolding her for not following orders seems pointless now, she’s no longer Robin; and she acknowledged her own fault, he doesn’t need to double down, especially not when she’s dealing with her own regret and fears after what happened. “I’m still sorry. I’ll be better.” She rasps, and Bruce hugs her, petting her hair gently as she fights back the tears burning behind her eyes. She’ll prove herself right this time.

Cass

𖥔 Cass stops. She’s always been the quickest one, the slyest, the one to get in and get out and have it not just done, but done good. Cass is untouchable, unbreakable, an unstoppable force hell bent on saving innocent people and protecting the world from the horrors that others bring upon them. Cass is strong because other people aren’t, and they need her to be for them. Gotham needs her.

𖥔 So when she’s fighting, she’s taking out bad guys and escorting hostages out of a burning building, she ends up cornered, hiding a little girl behind her as a goon points a gun at her. “I’ll tell you what little bat, her life for yours. You wanna walk away? Give me the girl. I’ll make sure you don’t have to see.” The man taunts, something sick bubbling in Cass’ gut, fighting down her anger as she analyzes his stance, trying to figure out how to disarm him without a stray bullet possibly hitting the girl.

𖥔 Batman drops down in front of them before she can do anything, giving her a distraction so she can run. She grabs the girl and takes off, hearing them fighting as she goes. She finds an exit and rushes out it, flames dancing inches from them as she runs toward the other hostages, carefully setting the little girl down, she turns back to the building, seeing fire already blocking the exit she just came out from. She wraps her cape around herself and rushes forward, already a step back inside, the fire sizzling around her, and the building explodes. She’s thrown backward, ears ringing as she tries to get back up, adrenaline pumping faster than ever.

𖥔 She hears the people crying, arms shaking as she pushes herself up, only to fall again. Bruce was still in there. She shakily looks up, staring at the rubble ahead of her, gasping for air as she staggers to her feet. Bruce, Bruce. She’s chanting his name, she can’t find her voice, opening and closing her mouth repeatedly, and she lets out a pained cry as she falls to her knees, staring forward helplessly as the red flames dance in her eyes.

𖥔 “Batman?” The little girl from before stands in front of Cass, tears welling in her eyes as Batgirl looks up at her. Cass knows she’s needs to check the hostages, make sure everyone’s okay; count and see if anyone died in the explosion. But she knows part of that answer already, Bruce was still inside, she was too late going back in to save him, he was in there because she let herself get backed into a wall and he had to save her. He got left behind because of her.

𖥔 Cass sits back on her heels, staring at her hands blindly. Now what? What could she do? What was Gotham going to do without having a Batman, how many innocent people were going to suffer and die because Batman died for her? How much death is she going to cause? What did it matter that Batgirl survived if Batman didn’t?

𖥔 “Batman!” The little girl says again; and it only hurts Cass worse, looking up through teary eyes, she sees the girl isn’t even facing her, her back it to Cass, and her arm is extended as she points to the building still burning. Batman is walking out of the flames, holding the same goon that had attacked them. He sets the man down once they’re a safe distance, and Cass is already on her feet, running as fast as she can, and jumping into Bruce’s arms.

𖥔 “I’m sorry for worrying you Batgirl.” Batman says softly, he has to keep their identities safe, he has to watch what he says, but they both know by the way he’s hugging her. I’m sorry Cassie, I’m here. She sobs, body shaking as he holds her gently, rubbing her back through the suit. She’s gasping weakly, mouth moving but no words come out. Even though she’s hidden by her mask Bruce knows she’s trying to speak.

𖥔 “Easy, you’re alright.” He says, setting her down so they’re looking at one another, and she holds onto his arms desperately. “Dad. Safe.” She manages out, and Bruce nods, hugging her again as she cries quietly. They’ll eventually have to pull away and assess the situation, but right now the hostages are okay, and Cass needs to be held by her dad for a little while longer.

Duke

𖥔 Duke working during the day means things are a lot different for Signal than they are for the bats. He has his usual route to patrol, he knows the ins and outs of this city, he knows which places are most commonly victim to robberies and petty crimes, it’s not an easy job, but he enjoys doing it, he enjoys helping people.

𖥔 Duke hasn’t had to stop or fight anyone today. There haven’t been any robberies, no purse or car thief’s, only a stray dog begging for some of his granola bar, it was quiet. Duke sits on a rooftop checking the time and seeing his patrol is almost over, it wouldn’t hurt if he went home half an hour before usual today, nothings happened, he’s sure nothing will happen in these thirty minutes, right?

𖥔 It’s almost like the universe was waiting for him to be ready to head home, because he hears an alarm ringing from a few buildings away. He hurries that way, face falling as he sees several men running out of a bank, carrying bags full of money. He grapples to them, pulling a baton from his utility belt, he’s about to land on the ground when he hears someone scream for help.

𖥔 “He’s hurt someone help!” A woman inside the bank cries out, and Dukes face falls as he looks at them, there’s someone injured, he weighs his options of stopping the thief’s first, or helping the injured person, but as he looks at the man laying on the ground, the air is knocked out of him. “Bruce.” He gasps, rushing over, forgetting about the thief’s as they speed off and disappear, he skids to a stop at Bruce’s side.

𖥔 Bruce Wayne is unconscious on the floor of the bank, bleeding out of a bullet wound in his stomach. “Bruce!” Duke cries out, rushing to his side. This isn’t Batman injured in a fight, or hurt by a villain. This is Bruce Wayne, out in the lively hours of Gotham, getting shot in a bank robbery. “Mr. Wayne, can you hear me? Sir?” Duke yanks his gloves off and checks for a pulse. When he feels one he immediately starts applying pressure to the wound. “He stood between them and me, it’s all my fault.” The girl sobs, she’s clearly a bank teller, her hands and skirt covered in Bruce’s blood.

𖥔 Duke is in full panic, he’s Signal right now, he’s not Bruce’s newest ward, he’s not tending to an injured Batman. Signal the vigilante is helping Bruce Wayne, the prince of Gotham; a stranger. “Hang in there sir, you’re gonna be okay.” Duke forces his voice to sound controlled, despite the way something sits in his throat, tears stinging behind his eyes.

𖥔 A crowd has formed now, hushed whispers and shocked gasps surrounding him as he pushes harder on the wound, his hands begin to shake, Bruce’s skin is losing color, there really is a lot of blood around them. Getting shot isn’t nearly enough to take down Batman, he would walk it off. But Bruce Wayne hasn’t even woken up, how long has it been now? Duke feels sick, breathing shaky as he wraps the wound.

𖥔 Thankfully someone had called 911 because Duke can hear the sirens, and an ambulance pulls up seconds later. He’s gently pulled back, and Bruce is lifted onto a gurney. “Thank you kid, we’ll take it from here.” An emt tells him, and then they take off with Bruce, leaving Duke alone, leaving the vigilante standing there, covered in blood, with a hundred eyes on him. “T-Thank you, you saved him.” The bank teller whispers, Duke helps her to her feet, moving on autopilot as he stares at his own hands, skin crawling as tears sting behind his eyes. He only nods, disappearing onto the rooftop, and running away.

𖥔 He informs the others, and by that night the thieves are caught by Red Robin and Spoiler, and Duke lies in his bed, he’s in his pajamas, he’s showered, but he stares at his hands and sees the red dripping from them, he feels the weight of Bruce’s body, limp and unmoving, he feels himself clinging to his fathers body, and having to act as a stranger, having to keep their identities separate, and not knowing if he would survive. If that killed him, Dukes last moment with him would’ve been as strangers, being watched by hundreds of eyes, and thousands more from the videos circulating.

𖥔 There’s a soft knock on the door and Duke hums, watching through tired eyes as Alfred walks inside, sets down a phone, and walks out before Duke can say anything. The screen is black so Duke only stares, confused until he hears a throat clear. “Duke?” Bruce’s voice rings through the phone, and the boys tears finally fall, hands shaking as he picks up the phone. He has a moment of fear that he’s going to get blood on it, but has to remind himself that there’s no blood on his skin anymore, he’s sure there still is on Bruce’s

𖥔 “Hey kiddo.” Bruce says when Duke doesn’t respond. “Hi.” He manages to rasp, and Bruce hums at the acknowledgement. “You did really good today.” Bruce says, and Duke cries harder, holding his head in his hands as he stays quiet so Bruce can’t hear. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, and I know you’re beating yourself up, but you did exactly as you should’ve. You let the thieves go to help the victim, you kept the victim stable until medical professionals arrived, you had the situation handled so the thieves were caught. You did everything wonderfully Signal.” Bruce compliments, and then a sob escapes Dukes lips, Bruce doesn’t say anything else and Duke sniffles. “It wasn’t an innocent bystander it was you.” He huffs, a bite behind his words as his own failure weighs him down, despite the fact that he didn’t fail at anything, he did everything he was supposed to do.

𖥔 “And it was you Duke. I’m safe because of you.” Bruce says, and the boy huffs in anger. “What the hell was I supposed to do? If something worse happened? If that was the last time I saw you? I had to treat you like Bruce Wayne; I had to be a stranger.” He says, hurt bleeding through his words, and Bruce hums softly. “Your suit doesn’t mean anything Duke, it is still you inside of it. A suit will never change who we are, what you mean to me. I was comforted that my son was there, not Signal.” Bruce says, and Duke squeezes his eyes shut, letting more tears fall as Bruce takes a deep breath. “I know how you’re feeling, and I want you to know that you don’t have to feel this way, you saved me Duke, and I will never compare you to your alias.” He says, and Duke sniffles, nodding even though Bruce can’t see him.

𖥔 “They’re letting me come home tomorrow, and I’m benched until I’m healed, so we’ll spend some time together okay? Just us, no suits or names.” Bruce says, and Duke smiles small. “Sounds good.” He responds, sniffling. “Good. Get some rest Duke, everything’s going to be okay.” He assures him, and they whisper their goodnights and hang up. The weight has been lifted off of Dukes chest, and he takes a deep breath, lying back down. Bruce is okay, and so is Duke.

Bruce Wayne has a family that loves him, and doesn’t know how they’d survive losing him. And he knows he wouldn’t survive losing them. That’s what makes their family so perfect.

༺♡♱⋆🦇⋆♱♡༻

This was so fun to write thank you for the request! I love getting to write out Bruce’s relationship with the kids, and had to include all of them for this one, it turned out wayyy longer than planned, had to bring the family together :’). I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. ᡣ𐭩

[black-cat-luck]

Can you do headcanons about Bruce and Jason’s father and son activities??? 🫶🏾

Father and son Jason and Bruce is my weak point of course.

༺♡♱⋆🦇⋆♱♡༻

𖥔 There’s few activities you can do as Batman and Robin. As Bruce Wayne and his son, they can do anything, as long as you don’t mind the media that follows you.

𖥔 Bruce doesn’t like Jason being in the media eye much when he’s first adopted. The boy is already training to be Robin, already exclaimed he doesn’t mind, but once news breaks out of Bruce Wayne’s newest adoption, they’re getting papped, followed, and as ready as Jason thought he was, those lights in his little eyes really are too bright. Bruce doesn’t have his cape to wrap him up in and hide him like he’s so used to doing, so he takes off his own sunglasses, they’re loose and hardly hold on Jason’s face, but it’s better than nothing, and they can continue with their little trip to the mall.

𖥔 Jason loves animals. Bruce notices in the way he brings extra snacks to give to stray cats while they’re patrolling, or the way he stops to pet every dog that approaches him. Bruce watches fondly every time, especially when Jason looks at him with bright sparkling eyes and a dog getting comfortable in his arms.

𖥔 Bruce takes him to the zoo after learning of his love for animals. Jason is bouncing with every step as they walk to each exhibit, even giving Bruce random little animal facts for each one they see. When they’re readying to leave Jason’s eyes get caught by the gift shop, and Bruce is happy to lead him inside. He overlooks each stuffed toy and pen topper, though he doesn’t touch any. When he tells Bruce he’s ready to go, and starts heading to the door Bruce frowns. “Don’t you want something?” He asks, Jason looks between him and the stand he was next to, plush giraffes staring back at him. Bruce watches him for a long moment before nodding toward them. “Pick whatever you want.” He says, Jason nervously smiles, and grabs the snow leopard he’d been thinking about since they walked in. He doesn’t have to say that he didn’t think he could get anything because he’s used to only being able to look, not buy. And Bruce didn’t need to ask, letting the boy grab what he wants, and even when he assures Jason he can pick more than one, Jason holds the plushie closer to his chest and insists she’s all he wants. Bruce ruffles his hair as they walk outside again.

𖥔 Jason gets into art the older he gets. He’d always been a smart boy, he always loved different forms of art, but the older he is, the more meaning it has to him, the more he loves it. Bruce takes him to museums, watching from a few steps behind as Jason admires each work, reading each description, studying every line.

𖥔 When Jason starts asking to go to the library more Bruce has him make a list of all the books he wants to read, and has the library in the manor updated. He tells Jason the library is his welcome home gift, and that he can read every book he’d like; and if there’s any they don’t have, Bruce will get them. Jason spends a lot of his time in there, and Bruce sits with him. They don’t talk much or do anything except read or doing their own respective business, but they sit together, accepting tea and snacks Alfred brings them, and when Jason falls asleep Bruce makes sure to put a bookmark in between his pages to assure he doesn’t lose his spot, and covers him with a blanket.

𖥔 Jason likes baking, so Bruce always makes sure there’s plenty of ingredients in the pantry’s, and sits at the island, keeping his promise to Alfred that he won’t touch any appliances unsupervised, but keeping Jason company, making this a bonding moment, they’re doing it together, even if Bruce is just sitting there and licking one of the spoons while they wait for it to bake.

𖥔 They end up watching tv shows together. It’s unspoken, it’s accidental, but when they’re both benched from patrol after a nasty accident, Bruce brings himself to Jason’s room to ask a question, and does that awkward stand half in the doorway watching the tv show playing on the TV (it’s Friends) and when they’ve gone through almost two episodes Jason waves him in, and Bruce sits in his beanbag chair and watches it with him, which becomes an accidental activity where they watch shows together.

𖥔 Jason and Bruce still watch friends, years later, when they’re not speaking and Jason hasn’t found it in himself to forgive or move on yet. They’re miles apart, haven’t spoken in weeks, but when they’re stressed, or tired, or need anything to create noise to silence what’s in their heads, their tvs flicker the familiar scenes, and even when it makes his heart heavy, Jason holds his ratty stuffed leopard close, and watches through tired eyes, remembering the feeling of lying in Bruce’s lap when he was fighting how tired he truly was, now having to pull the blanket over himself, cause nobody else is here to do it for him. It’s small moments like these that remind Jason he was more than just a solider, and miles away Bruce is petting Damian’s cat, making up for the way he misses carding his fingers through Jason’s hair, watching the same scene, the same moment, they’re still father and son, and both know deep down they always will be. And maybe Jason will come home trudging through the snow around the same time Chandler does.

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This felt so sweet and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did, thank you for the request. ᡣ𐭩

[black-cat-luck]

hmm can I have dick Grayson head cannons when he plans a party

YEA!!!⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ༺♡♱⋆🦇⋆♱♡༻

𖥔 Dicks party planning is VERY serious and he will not hear otherwise on the matter. There are multiple steps, charts, lists, and a few clipboards. He will make sure everything is perfect.

𖥔 The first party of the year is usually New Years, Which technically is carrying over from the last year, (but don’t let him hear you say that). Dick loves New Years, he loves watching the ball drop, and has a drafted up speech about how much the people in the room mean to him, and how happy he is to start another new year all together.

𖥔 He doesn’t throw a party for the smaller holidays, Valentines is spent with his partner, or if he’s single, Wally. Easter is more of just a family dinner and some chocolate.

𖥔 Halloween parties are scarce because they’re usually all busy on the night because goons decide everyone wearing masks is a free pass to commit crimes.

𖥔 If he does throw a Halloween party it’s on a different day than the actual holiday and he does make everyone go to a corn maze and pumpkin patch all together.

𖥔 He goes big on Christmas, he loves the holiday and loves having everyone together. It’s less of a party, and more of a week long of just, family time.

𖥔 They go on drives through light shows, and to look at people’s lights on their houses. They go sledding, and make a snowman in the front yard of the manor, then mourn the snowman when he becomes victim of their snowball fight. He makes hot chocolate and cookies and everyone bundles together to watch the polar express.

𖥔 On Christmas morning he’s the first awake, like a little kid he goes to each persons door waking them up and dragging them downstairs, always priding himself on getting the best gifts.

𖥔 Dick absolutely loves the holidays, and throwing parties on them.

𖥔 But birthdays? Those are a whole other level of serious. Everyone gets a surprise party, everyone knows it’s happening but still has to act surprised, everyone knows exactly what time to be at the manor to be “surprised”.

𖥔 Dick usually doesn’t accept help with party planning, he wants it to be a him thing, and mostly because he’s worried someone else will mess it up, and it has to be perfect, because it’s a party for someone he loves and they deserve it being perfect.

𖥔 Eventually he accepts help when it comes to hanging banners or blowing up balloons. He has everything planned out to a T, who’s keeping the birthday person busy and away, who’s putting the candles on the cake, who’s helping Alfred set the table as he makes their favorite dinner.

𖥔 It always ends up being perfect, even the year when Dick fell from a ladder and broke a wrist. Even the year when Steph and Tim bumped into one another and sent the birthday cake straight to the floor. Even the year when no one realized Jason hadn’t been informed of their tradition and he pulled a gun on them when they all jumped out and yelled “surprise!”

𖥔 No matter what happens the party is perfect, even if Dick doesn’t think so, because even if there’s mishaps or slip ups, it was done with so much love that everyone is grateful and happy, even if they complained about not needing a party.

𖥔 At the end of the year Dick gets to wrap it all up again with his new year party, his cheesy “I love you guys” speech, and truly just being happy that everyone is together, and he gets to spend another year with his family. And when the clock strikes midnight, he holds his tradition and kisses his partner, or if single, Wally. And he’s just as excited to enjoy the first party of the year.

༺♡♱⋆🦇⋆♱♡༻

This was a fun one thank you for requesting!! I hope you enjoyed! ᡣ𐭩

[black-cat-luck]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔 . welcome to my bat cave .𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔 .

you can call me Venus!

I will be writing for the Batfamily, and maybe even more DC characters, we’ll see what the future holds!

no minors will be aged up or written explicitly for unless they have canonly aged past 18 (sorry tim). they will be included and written for, but treated as the minors they are!

18+, minors pls don’t interact (´∩｡• ᵕ •｡∩`) ♡

I am simply writing for fun, I don’t follow much canon, I cherry pick what I like and write how I like, if you don’t enjoy my writing you don’t have to read it! if you want to file a complaint dm me and I’ll give you my Venmo and you can pay the $20 complaint fee. ( ˘ ³˘)

you can also find me on TikTok @/black.cat.luck! And AO3 @/black_catt_luck! :)

account directions

Published works:

Master List.

AO3 profile link.

Requests:

Open!

Feel free to send them in, I’ll try and write it, but no promises unfortunately ❦

[black-cat-luck]

a little comic for jasons birthday. on being robin & batman and being brave & scared

[black-cat-luck]

The funniest aspect of a child crime fighter is that sometimes they’re going to run into something that makes no sense because they don’t have the life experience. Because they’re nine.

Like Robin runs into a guy who works for The Penguin and the guy just throws his hands up like, “Don’t hit! I’m not an enforcer. I’m an accountant.”

Robin:

Robin, squaring up: I don’t know what that is.

[black-cat-luck]

Leaving the Suit Behind? You Are Invited to Fill Out the Robin Exit Interview

OPEN

[black-cat-luck]

Jason Todd x Reader | His World

warnings: a child, reader isn't as big of a character | rating: E

summary: jasons wife just gave birth.

soft, untouched grubby hands gently feel along jason's bare chest. a small face burying against the warm skin. the nurse said skin to skin was beneficial, but jason honestly couldn't tell for whom.

evangeline, his beautiful evangeline. a baby girl who's heart is unbroken, eyes unseeing of all the horrors the world offers. and he'll be damned if that ever changes.

she let out a soft coo that had jasons heart constricting, his big hand moving to cup the back of her head and gently tilting her so she was able to look at him, dwarfing the little girl who stares up at him with his blue eyes.

he never thought he deserved this, his beautiful wife, their house, their cat, and definitely not their daughter. he was a monster, with the blood of countless people on his hands. but holding that baby girl, he feels clean.

he looked up to his wife, gaze transfixed on her. he'd always known she was the most beautiful creature on all worlds, but laying there, in the sterile room, covered in a paper hospital gown, eyes sunken and lips dry, she'd looked more beautiful than ever.

he smiled down at her, then their daughter, before opening his mouth and softly saying. "if she's anything like you, my love. nearly as stubborn and smart, the world would be a better place."

she smiled, tired gaze looking from jason to evangeline, her hand gently extending to touch her soft hair, her messy brown curls just like her father. "Jay?" she asked.

"yes, dear?" he slowly said, still transfixed by the little life in his arms. who gurgled softly at him.

"do you see the little bit of white in her hair too?" she said, bringing a hand to evangelines hairline, gently twirling the small white lock of hair. jasons already soft smile softening, his beautiful girls.

his world.

a/n: tried my hand in dad jay. what do we think?