#I do not think Damian would know or realize that Tim is the one behind the suggestion that Dick take lead on Batman INC

[batsandbirdbrains]

I’ve been reminded that the reverse robins trope exists

The one where Damian has custody of Dick (reverse robins au)

I think it’s even better if most of the world doesn’t realize there are other Gotham vigilantes. Somehow, they’ve all stayed under the radar, but Robin is the one who goes out with Batman once he joins the Justice League. The others aren’t really interested in joining or even meeting them. They’re fine doing their own thing in Gotham & Blüdhaven.

But Bruce wasn’t actually around when Dick became part of the Wayne family. He’d been lost in time or whatever, and it was Damian who was at the circus that night. It was Damian who saw the Graysons fall. It was Damian who rushed to a tiny, frozen little boy who was kneeling in his parents’ blood and wrapped him in his coat, pulling him away and hiding his face in his shoulder.

Alfred thought the circus would maybe help Damian relax after all the pressure from taking over the Batman mantle. Give him something to smile about.

Instead, Damian gets in the car that night with a traumatized little boy, police and ambulance lights flickering from outside, and he looks Alfred dead in the eyes and says, “Congratulations. You’ve turned me into my father. The Commissioner and an agent from Child Protective Services will be stopping by the manor in about two hours.”

Alfred isn’t even all that surprised.

Damian adopts Dick immediately. He doesn’t want Dick to feel like his place in the manor is uncertain, like his place in the family isn’t permanent. He’s one of them now. He’s a Wayne.

Dick even agrees to hyphenate his last name when he sees how much Damian is fighting for him, when he hears him yell at the cops and the CPS people who call him a dirty gypsy and try to convince Damian to throw Dick in juvie, insinuating that Dick probably already stole valuables from the manor.

Nevermind the fact that Dick has barely moved or spoken a word in three weeks following his parents’ deaths.

Aside from sneaking out at night to interrogate criminals on Tony Zucco and what they know about him. But Batman finds him and foils his plans every night, bringing him back to his room at the manor.

It takes Dick less than two weeks to figure out it’s Damian behind the cowl. Damian is actually impressed, and he eventually agrees to train Dick to join the bats.

Tim thinks it’s an awful idea. But Tim and Damian clash with most things, so Damian considers his opinion invalid. Jason just thinks it’s funny that the kid wants his costume to have shorts.

And after a couple months of intense training, Robin is seen on the streets of Gotham beside Batman.

But then Bruce comes back, and he takes over the Batman mantle again, and Damian goes back to being Nightwing. Dick wants to stay Damian’s partner, he doesn’t know Bruce that well, he wants to stay with his Baba. But Bruce insists that he take over training Dick, and that since the public outside of Gotham became aware of Batman and Robin due to a high profile case, that Robin has to stay Batman’s partner.

Damian convinces Dick that it’s alright, because Damian is still going to be his Baba. They’re still going to live together in the penthouse. He doesn’t have to move, he doesn’t have to start calling Bruce dad, “none of the others do, anyway. Besides, you’re still my son. You’re still my Robin.”

So Dick continues going out on patrol with Batman, even if he insists to Damian that, “he’s not my Batman. You’re my Batman.”

Damian only ever lets Dick see how happy that makes him. He has a reputation to keep up, after all.

It’s Damian who agrees to let Dick join the Young Justice team. It’s Damian who gives permission for missions and training.

It’s Damian who uses an override code to enter Mount Justice when Dick is long overdue to be home from “a simple training exercise” that Bruce planned.

It’s Damian who finds his son limp on a stone slab, stuck in a psychic simulation.

It’s Damian who holds Dick’s hands and whispers in his ear that he’s alright, it’s not real, he needs to come back now when Dick is the only one who doesn’t wake up right away once M’gann loses her psychic grip on the simulation.

And when Dick shoots up, brow covered in sweat, breathing so labored that Damian is afraid he’s going to pass right back out, he just continues holding him and whispering to him that it’s alright, everything is alright, Baba’s here now. And Dick clings to him, holding on so tight his knuckles turn white, whispering into Damian’s chest that he thought Damian had died, he thought everyone died. I saw it, I saw them zap you, you were all just gone.

(As a side note, I don’t think this Bruce would want to be called Grandpa. It makes him feel too old. Bruce is supposed to be Jewish, right? Let’s have him go by Saba.)

And Damian is livid. Because how dare his father make his son live through what is essentially his worst nightmare. He snaps his head towards Bruce and seethes, “I told you no psychic simulations.”

“Saba said you agreed.”

The catch in his voice damn near breaks Damian’s heart. But it only serves to make him that much angrier with Bruce.

“You what?” He snaps at Bruce. “You told him I did what?”

“It was perfectly safe,” Bruce tries to reason with him.

“Clearly it was not!” Damian bites back. “I heard what the Martian said, Robin’s mind thought he was dead! Your ridiculous training exercise could have killed him!”

“He was perfectly safe. There was no real danger.”

“Stop,” Damian says, his voice perfectly calm. He tugs Dick close to him, as if letting him go would make him disappear into thin air. “Just stop.”

“Nightwing-“

“This is not the first time you’ve ignored my boundaries for him,” Damian tells him. “He is my son. He was my Robin before he was ever yours. And yet you stomp all over my limits for him time and time again. He is thirteen, he is not a soldier.”

He stands up, still holding Dick close, keeping an arm tight around his shoulders. As they pass by Bruce, Damian tells him in a final hiss, “Batman and Robin are done.”

“You’re being unreasonable,” Bruce barks at him.

“And you are being like Ra’s al Ghul,” Damian hisses back, tightening his grip on Dick’s shoulder. “Count yourself lucky I’m not keeping you from your grandson entirely.”

Damian moves to leave, but Dick tugs at his arm and whispers, “Wait, wait Baba, wait,” then he throws himself at Bruce, hugging him tight. Bruce kneels down to hug him back, and maybe he finally realizes how much he fucked up when Dick whispers to him, “I’m glad you’re not really dead.”

But then as quick as he was to hug Bruce, he’s quick to let go and mutter, “Bye, Saba.”

Bruce just runs a hand through Dick’s hair before he can fully pull away, and he says back in a gentle tone, “Bye, Robin. Be good.”

Dick gives him a little smile and wave before attaching himself back to Damian’s side.

Idk I just want Damian being a protective dad and Bruce realizing he was kind of a shitty grandpa.

[tallochar]

I keep turning this concept in my head but I can't manage to write it satisfactorily so here I am, setting it out in the wild:

Tim Drake being alerted that Batman INC is something that is in the planning stages of it happening (maybe by Lucius, maybe by Tam, who even knows, look he was CEO for a while and someone is worried about Bruce Wayne about to go public with Batman INC and they get in touch with him) and going to Bruce and refusing to let him do this.

Because Bruce is needed in Gotham and Batman is needed in Gotham, and while Dick is doing a great job and no one will convince Tim of the contrary, that's not Dick's job. It's Bruce's.

(Who also has a son who just got his father back and if anyone knows what it would mean for a son who lost their father to get that father back when you know it's not going to happen... well lets say Tim has Opinions about this [and while he might not get along with Damian all that well yet, they are in that neutral state where Damian is like a cat observing things and studying dynamics and Tim has always been able to work with people he doesn't like or even trust much, so he's not going to punish the kid over whatever's went down between them.])

And besides, let's be real here Bruce, if you want a Batman that can go around the world and pull together teams and make them cohesive and knows what it's needed to be a successful team of young / upcoming young heroes, that's way more Dick than you yourself. Would be preferrable if he was allowed to do it as Nightwing, but the point still stands.

Just ... Tim pow-wowing with Bruce over the whole sitch and convicing him to back down. Not abandon the project, Tim knows that will not happen no matter what Tim does, but trusting it to Dick, who is way better with both younger people and people skills in general than Bruce.

(Which actually is not meant to separate Damian from Dick, Dick can come in from one assignment to the next and check on Damian and this is not the time it was when Tim was growing up, they have communications all over the globe now, Dick can phonecall and videocall Damian as many times as he wants and check on him as often as he wishes, but if Batman INC is happening, and it will happen because Bruce has decided it will, then Tim can only do damage control over this)

And possibly Bruce leveraging Tim staying in Gotham (which, joke's on Bruce, Tim was going to do that anyway, but sure he'll "concede") and possibly "asking" (ordering, let's be real here) Tim to help train Damian (which Tim isn't enthusiastic about but fine, he'll make it work as long as Bruce has his back), for multiple reasons.

A bit because Bruce sort of feels guilty that Tim was kicked out of the Robin role (Bruce HAD promised it would be Tim's until Tim decided otherwise, [which I don't think Dick knew about and even if he had, the situation still had been what it was, to be fair to Dick]) but also Bruce doesn't quite know what to do with Damian (and it wouldn't be the first time he's trusted Tim to teach young heroes / guide someone in a vigilante role) and also he both wants Tim to be there with him (he's missed him) and needs him there with himself (Tim the emotional regulation parentified wonder!).

And then shenanigans from there.

[ofbatsandballads]

Based on that little blurb you reblogged can I request the batfamily finding out that Jason has a girlfriend by him rummaging through the stuff in his pockets?

They're like dang dude what do you have in there? and it's all hair ties, lip stick, and a recipe for two 💕

-🍬

oh I love a good “Jason hides his lover from his family only for it to get revealed dramatically” fic and now thanks to you, nonnie, I get to write one!

jason todd x f!reader. warnings include canon typical injuries, sibling violence, and slight hints at the batfam’s more traumatic interactions. this is mostly a good ol’ batfam fic, because reader is only alluded to, but I really like it. sorry I made it angsty for a sec there, I just can’t resist the Dynamics™️.

Jason should’ve known better. Really, he should’ve. Taking on Killer Croc alone? A fool’s mistake, but he was just too stubborn to say yes when Bruce asked if he’d like some backup. So now here he is, loopy in the Batcave after Waylon absolutely rocked his shit.

“‘S not even that bad,” he slurs.

The fact that he trips on his own feet and nearly faceplants before Bruce catches him says otherwise.

“Sure it’s not, Jaylad. Let’s get you to the medbay,” Bruce grumbles, worry creeping into that stone cold exterior.

“I’m fine, old man. Lemme jus’ go home,” Jason whines.

He’s met with a grunt that firmly negates his request.

“You can stay in your room tonight,” Bruce says.

“Not my home. Wanna go home,” Jason mumbles as he drops onto the medbay bed.

If Bruce’s face drops a bit, if guilt and sorrow flash across his eyes? Well, Jason’s too concussed to notice. Bruce just nods and begins to assess any other injuries Croc may have left on him. When he reaches for the collar of the Kevlar top, Jason flinches away from him so hard that he slams into the wall behind him. It’s only when Bruce realizes that he’d brushed his fingers against the scar on Jason’s neck that he understands why. His heart sinks and he can’t even look at his son. His shame doubles when he hears a trademark sigh of disappointment from behind him.

“C’mon, Littlewing. Let’s get all of this off you,” Dick says gently as he pushes past their father.

Jason doesn’t flinch when Dick starts to remove his gear. In fact, the presence of his older brother sets him at ease.

“I told ‘im I had it covered, Dickie. He didn’t fuckin’ listen,” Jason complains.

“Yeah, had it so covered you’re concussed in the family home?” Dick teases.

“What the fuck, Richard?” Jason groans before breaking out into giggles.

“How hard did Waylon hit him?” Dick jokingly asks Bruce.

“There’s no fractures, but the contusions are appearing rapidly. Jason’s lucky that’s all he got.”

Dick stares blankly at Bruce. He goes to open his mouth to retort that he was kidding, then decides it’s not worth his effort. Tim thinks it is, though.

“Wow, for a guy that’s chronically online for vigilante reasons, you still know nothing about the internet,” Tim laughs as he wanders into the medbay and flops down on the bed next to Jason’s.

Bruce ignores the teasing and catalogs all the injuries that are revealed to him as Dick strips away Jason’s tattered gear. There’s plenty of lacerations on his torso and likely some on his back. A few are deeper but nothing they’ll need to call Leslie for.

“Or maybe your jokes just aren’t funny, Timothy” Damian says haughtily as he sits himself next to Jason.

The thirteen-year-old tries to put on a mask of indifference, but it wavers when he spots the gash on the back of Jason’s right shoulder.

“Akhi, in what world did you think apprehending Waylon Jones alone would go well for you?” Damian scolds.

Jason narrows his seafoam eyes at Damian and lowers his voice.

“Ya really wanna talk about apprehending people alone, demon spawn?” he taunts lightly.

Damian’s eyes widen and he drops the subject because no, he actually does not want to talk about that on account of the fact that he tried to bring in Clayface alone two weeks ago and nearly got immortalized as a clay statue until Jason swooped in. The two of them had scrubbed his Robin suit within an inch of its life to try and hide the excursion from Bruce. It worked; only Alfred noticed the faint hint of clay in the threads of the cape and all he’d done was sigh and shake his head.

Jason’s gear is fully removed and his head is starting to clear a bit, wooziness replaced by a hammering pain in his temples. The headache masks any pain he would feel from the stitches being placed in his back, though he also suspects that those are less painful because Damian is doing them.

“Your technique is gettin’ better, y’know?” Jason whispers, the compliment unheard by the other three men bustling around the room.

The hands stitching him up freeze and he can imagine the look of surprise on Damian’s face even without turning around.

“Thank you,” he mutters. “I think it will be useful for future endeavors.”

Jason smiles to himself. He knows the kid wants to be a doctor, and he thinks it’s a damn better fate for him than whatever Bruce or Ra’s could’ve planned. The silence that settles over the medbay is peaceful, only broken by the sound of clacking computer keys or the zipping of evidence bags. Then, like an unholy boom of thunder, comes the voice of Tim Drake.

“What the hell is all this?”

Jason’s head whips to the side and he sees Tim rummaging through the pockets of his tactical pants. He goes to scramble off the bed and feels the harsh pull of thread that was mid-stitch through his skin.

“Mind your fuckin’ business, replacement!” Jason shouts.

He grabs a pillow and chucks it at Tim’s head, but he just ducks and continues to empty Jason’s pockets. The contents that spill out on the sterile tray are…perplexing to say the least. Two lip balms (one tinted red), three scrunchies (one black and two red), a grocery list with the word strawberries and a woman’s name underlined, a recipe for chicken stir fry with enough for two portions, and one single soft chocolate chip cookie lay unexplained in the harsh white light of the medbay.

If looks could kill, Tim Drake would be dead and buried six feet under.

“What part of mind your fuckin’ business did you not get?” Jason growls, glaring daggers at the nineteen-year-old.

“Holy shit, he’s got a fucking girlfriend!” Tim exclaims.

The pillow hits him square in the face this time. All four sets of eyes turn to him with varying emotions. Shock is evident in the forest green of Damian’s gaze, smugness and vindication in the icy blue of Tim’s, panic and guilt in the ocean blue of Dick’s, and some weird mix of sadness and fondness in the gunmetal blue of Bruce’s eyes that Jason doesn’t want to think about for too long. The acrobat quickly moves across the room and sweeps all the belongings off the tray and back into the pockets of the tac pants. He grabs Jason’s gear from Tim and hands it back to its rightful owner, who clutches it to himself protectively.

“Don’t make assumptions, Tim,” Dick says. “Civilians leave stuff on us all the time.”

It’s true. They’ve all come home with someone’s forgotten work badge or piece of jewelry before. The oddest thing was when Bruce had a Hello Kitty keychain stuck to the end of his cape. Jason casts a subtle look of gratitude at Dick for trying to give him plausible deniability. Not that it works. Tim stares not at Dick, but through him with his pale eyes in a way that makes a chill run down the spine of the eldest son.

“You knew already? How?” Tim asks incredulously.

Really, he’s a bit miffed that he hadn’t figured this out already. He has contingency plan files on each member of his family (himself included) and he had not a clue that Jason might be in a relationship.

“Drop. It. Now.” Jason warns.

Tim doesn’t consider it until he sees Jason’s fingers twitching in the direction of the butterfly knife on his belt. He doesn’t need another scar from Jason shanking him. Well, at least not today.

“Fine. Whatever. But if I have to bring Bernard here for Thanksgiving, then you have to bring,” and he pauses to remember and recite the name on the grocery list, “home too.”

He knows he’s pushed it when Jason lunges at him, dragging Damian and a threaded suturing needle behind him. Tim barely jumps out of the way in time to avoid a punch to the jaw.

“Robin! Knock it off!” Bruce barks.

It’s almost comical the way all four of his boys freeze in place. It is slightly less comical the way they all proceed to glare at him.

“Fuck it,” Jason grumbles as he settles back on the bed for Damian to continue stitching his wounds. “Just get these done so I can go home.”

“Home to his girlfriend,” Tim murmurs.

“I will fuckin’ slash your throat again, you second-rate fuck!”

Bruce lets out one long suffering sigh. He doesn’t know you yet (a quiet part of him hopes he may one day be allowed to) but he already feels sorry that you’ve been roped into all of this. He feels even more sorry when the butterfly knife flies past his head and buries itself into the wall inches from Tim’s neck. Really, what is he going to do with these boys?

[dc-gotham-instincts-wild]

Headcanon that Jason just kidnaps his siblings instead of asking them to hang out sometimes.

Sometimes he does the normal abduction thing and other times he has his methods.

Dick: Jason sneaks into Dick’s apartment in Blüdhaven at 3 AM, throws him over his shoulder, and drags him to his motorcycle. Dick wakes up mid-ride, half-conscious, groggily mumbling, "Jay, what the hell—?"

- Jason just shushes him and tosses a burger into his lap. "Shut up and eat, Goldie. We're bonding." (Jason, allowing his big brother to ruffle his hair? Nooooo, absolutely not...)

Tim: Jason straight-up drugs him asleep him when Tim refuses to take a break. He wakes up in Jason’s apartment with a cup of coffee and a sandwich waiting for him, while Jason sits on the couch reading a book.

- “You looked dead on your feet, Replacement. Either you napped willingly or I made you. Guess which one you picked.” (Jason totally doesn't rake a hand over his lil bro's hair during this time)

Steph: Jason knows Steph is a wild card when it comes to hanging out, so he has to be a little sneakier with her. He'd show up at her place unannounced, pretending to just be casually passing by, and in one smooth motion, he'd grab her and yank his little sister into his car or bike before she even realizes what's happening. (He totally doesn't do this in time with hard school, noooo)

Damian: Jason scoops him up mid-battle and just walks away with him. Damian kicks, bites, and yells, "UNHAND ME, TODD!" but Jason holds him like an angry kitten.

- They end up at a rooftop picnic with Alfred’s homemade food. Damian eventually eats while grumbling about Jason's “barbaric methods” but secretly enjoys the attention. (Jason maaayybe ruffles his hair a lot.)

Cass: She just lets it happen. Jason shows up, gestures toward his bike, and Cass just hops on without a word. They go on long road trips in comfortable silence, getting ice cream at 2 AM and scaring off criminals for fun. (Jason totally doesn't take the time to help her with her speech-)

Duke: Duke gets fake-napped. Jason tells him, "Be outside in five minutes," and when Duke says no, Jason still shows up, grabs him, and hauls him into a car.

- Duke just sighs and texts Bruce: "Jason's 'kidnapping' me again. Back later." (Jason totally doesn't get the names of school bullies from him and uses them, noooooooo)

Bruce knows this happens. He just sighs and lets it happen because, honestly? It’s Jason’s way of showing love. And at least the kids are getting along.

Jason kidnaps his siblings because it's his way of saying, "You're important to me, and I'm gonna drag you into ridiculous situations whether you like it or not."

He also, however, does it to Bruce.

In fact, it might be one of his favorite things to do, just because Bruce is always so serious and “responsible.”

Jason thinks it’s hilarious to force Bruce to take a break. He just shows up at the Batcave, probably with some kind of overly complicated plan to "kidnap" Bruce without him realizing.

Step 1: Jason would distract Alfred with a "Oh, just a quick check-in, you know, 'cause it’s been a while.’"

Step 2: He would wait for Bruce to get fully immersed in some case files and then sneak up behind him, tap him on the shoulder, and when Bruce turns around, Jason’s already got him in a headlock, pulling him out of the chair like, "Get up, old man. We're going to a diner. No arguments."

Bruce would protest, of course. He'd probably try to get out of it with his usual grumpy “I’m too busy” routine. Jason might fake-sigh and act like he's just trying to help Bruce loosen up, reminding him, "I know you think you’re invincible, but you still need to eat, Batman."

And if Bruce insists on not going, Jason would just drag him anyway. He might even grab the Batmobile for a joyride (he's always wanted to), making Bruce sit shotgun while Jason drives like an absolute maniac (Jokes on both because Bruce taught him to drive-)

Bruce would probably be scowling the whole time, but Jason would know his dad is secretly enjoying it, even if he won't admit it.

Eventually, Bruce would probably give in and get his grumpy little “dad” lecture—“You’re so reckless, Jason—” but Jason would just smile and be like, "Whatever. You’re welcome.”

Jason totally doesn't like it when his dad just ruffles his hair at some point.

[apatheticsunday]

Apprentice of the Butler

AKA "Alfred Pennyworth hires an interim butler while he recuperates from a Rogue attack. Who better than adoption bait Danny Fenton?" prompt!!

Okay, so imagine Danny moves to Gotham to pursue astrophysics at Gotham-U but he's having a surprisingly difficult time keeping a job. Every time he gets hired, the place gets burned down or blown up by Rogues; it's like he's catnip for trouble. Somehow, he's always in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And Alfred Pennyworth also happens to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. He's at the Gotham Market Co-op, where Danny's been recently hired, and suddenly it's gassed by Scarecrow's Fear Toxin. All the employees and customers scramble to put on their gas masks, but Danny's new enough that he has no idea what's happening. He's suddenly seeing Fright Knight, Dark Pariah, and the GIW. So, he Goes Ghost, defeats all of Scarecrow's goonies, and saves the day! If only his boss would think so, too.

Uh, no. Apparently Danny's now on a Wanted List as an undocumented meta?? And his boss can't be investigated by the GCPD (he's, like, four years behind on taxes and has been dodging the IRS for longer), so he regretfully has to let Danny go. But, hey! Maybe if he becomes a documented meta, he can get hired back. Except Danny can't because the GIW can access the meta registration database and he'll be found out faster than he can leave Gotham.

So, Danny's fired again.

And Alfred "Pride & Honor" Pennyworth?? He's not gonna let the child who saved him (because Scarecrow absolutely was going to snatch the Wayne's butler, who better to take hostage than a billionaire's publicly beloved Father Figure??) possibly become homeless. It's clear the kid is a college student and is barely scraping by, probably paying way too much for room and board at Gotham-U. And... maybe his wrist hurts a bit from a fall. He's older now, it's not impossible that he'd get a sprain or a broken bone. (Plus, Alfred knows the look. The same one as Dick, Jason, Tim, even Bruce. There's an immense grief in those small shoulders, fear and loneliness.)

Cue Alfred hiring Danny on as an interim butler while he recuperates (oh, he's terribly injured, thank you so much for helping me, my boy-). And Danny can't say no. I mean, this old man got injured during the Rogue attack he was apart of! And he's asking for help! And it's also nice to have some money. And a bed and... oh, God, he's working for a billionaire frootloop. Uh-oh.

(Alfred absolutely doesn't tell Bruce about his new son apprentice. It's worth it to see Bruce's eyes glaze over as sees a black-haired teenager standing in the kitchen with Alfred, then doing a double take when he realizes it isn't Jason. And the others are banned from the kitchen, so who is this child in his house?? It's not Kon or Jon either??)

Meanwhile, Danny is actually having a great time with Mr. Pennyworth!! The older man is kind, soft-spoken, and really knows his stuff. Danny really enjoys learning how to cook, especially because none of the food comes alive to fight him. Eventually the Batfam just become used to seeing Danny in the kitchens, gardens, around the house with Alfred. He's a cute kid, always smiling and talking about his college classes. He has effortless sarcastic banter with both Damian and Jason, bonds with Tim about some kind of difficult mechanical mathematics or something, trades dad jokes with Dick. He even manages to win over Cass, Steph, Duke, and Babs.

The only one Danny doesn't truly seem to like is Bruce Wayne, although he never outright disrespects him, since he pays the bills and Danny's midwestern manners kick in. Bruce is confused and very concerned because why is this kid literally glaring daggers at him all the time?? Is he going to poison Bruce's coffee?? Danny's just trying to figure out if Bruce Wayne is a "collects vintage dentures" or "keeps teenagers locked in his basement" type of billionaire frootloop. (He'd kinda prefer the kidnapping, Danny does not want to go looking for a wine cellar and find an entire basement of old teeth.)

Bonus if Bruce tries to subtly win the boy over and Danny's just like, squinting at him, white-knuckling a frying pan and muttering, "That's exactly what someone who collects teeth would say..."

[iydiamartinx]

DINNER WAS NOT SERVED

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader

divider by: @cafekitsune & @iydiamartinx word count: 842 synopsis: Dick had one goal: to seduce his girlfriend. He forgot the part where he should check for unwanted guests first and narrates his plans in very, vivid detail. warning: talk of sexual themes

Dick Grayson practically bounced through the door. After a brutal day at work and a rare night off from his more nocturnal duties, he was beyond ready to spend the night with you—to the fullest.

He wasn’t even trying to be subtle about it—keys flung onto the counter, boots kicked halfway off, jacket tossed somewhere near the coat rack. His hair was tousled from the wind, and that boyish grin was plastered across his face like he’d just won the damn lottery.

“Babe?” he called out, already unbuttoning his shirt to reveal that smooth, unfairly sculpted chest. “I’ve been thinking about you all day. You have no idea what you’re in for tonight.”

You glanced up from the couch, eyes widening in horror.

Too late.

“Been thinking about that mouth of yours,” Dick continued, blissfully unaware of the audience. “You saying my name, choking on it… You better not have eaten yet,” he smirked, prowling closer. “Because tonight, I’m the only thing on the menu. And if you’re really good, I’ll make you my dessert before tying you up like you asked—”

You opened your mouth—something, anything—but the words got stuck somewhere between your brain and your mortified soul.

Dick wasn’t done.

“—And if I do it right, baby,” he added, voice dropping into something criminal, “you won’t be walking straight tomorrow.”

“Please,” Tim begged, his voice hollow—like something inside him had just broken. “Stop.”

Dick screeched.

His head snapped up like a man slapped by God himself.

Jason was sprawled across the other couch, mid-bite of pizza, now frozen with a look of stunned horror.

Tim was slouched in the armchair, pale as death and clutching a throw pillow to his chest like it might protect him from the trauma.

Dick flailed like a man caught with his pants around his ankles—and spiritually, he was. “I—You—WHY ARE YOU ALL HERE?!”

Jason stood up slowly, face blank. “No. Absolutely not. I’m done. I’m leaving. My ears are bleeding. I need holy water. Maybe therapy. And a priest.”

Tim slowly turned to you, deadpan. “You asked for that?”

“I didn’t know he was going to narrate it like a damn porn script!” you hissed, trying to wedge yourself deeper into the couch cushions as if you could disappear entirely.

Damian sat cross-legged on the floor, one eyebrow twitching in confused revulsion. “What… what do you mean by that?”

Dick groaned, dragging a hand down his face as he stumbled backwards as he realized his youngest brother was here too. “Oh my god.”

Jason made a sound like he was dying. “He means sex, Damian! Dear God, why do I have to be the one to explain this?!”

Damian blinked. “…Then why are they the meal?”

Tim looked like his brain had short-circuited. Again.

Jason threw his hands up. “Nope. Not walking him through this. I’ve done my time.”

Dick, flushed all the way to the tips of his ears, turned to you helplessly. “I swear I thought we were alone.”

You glared at him, mortified. “You described yourself as the entrée,” you snapped. “And me as dessert!”

Damian, still thoroughly lost, narrowed his eyes. “But neither of you are edible. That would be cannibalism.”

Jason grabbed his keys. “I’m going to pretend this never happened and go directly to the manor. If anyone ever speaks of this again—I swear—I’ll shoot them.”

Tim trailed after him, defeated. “I’m going to need a drink. And bleach. And maybe a lobotomy.”

The door slammed behind them, leaving only an awkward silence—and Damian, staring between the two of you with narrowed eyes.

Damian, still staring between you and Dick like you were an unsolvable puzzle, slowly tilted his head. “Is it… normal to talk about being consumed before intercourse?”

You made a strangled noise and grabbed the nearest throw pillow, mashing it to your face.

Dick groaned, dragging a hand down his face as if he could physically wipe away the humiliation. His voice was low and exhausted. “Damian. Leave. Before Jason drives off without you and pretends it was on accident.”

Damian huffed through his nose, clearly unimpressed. “Tt. As if I would lower myself to ride with him.”

Still, he stood up and brushed the invisible lint from his trousers. He shot you both one last perplexed glance, muttered something in sharp Arabic—definitely a curse this time—and swept toward the door without another word.

The click of the door closing behind him echoed through the now silent apartment.

Dick finally turned to you, face still beet red, hair a mess, shirt half-open and forgotten. 

“So…” he began, voice sheepish. “Not the night I had planned.”

You hurled a couch pillow at his head.

He caught it easily, the bastard, flashing that boyish grin that somehow still managed to be charming after all this.

“Still love me?”

You pointed at the door. “Ask me after they recover.”

He winked, his voice dipping back into that sultry purr. “Bet I can make you forget about it.”

You paused.

“…Shut up and lock the door.”

That grin of his widened as he rushed to do as you said.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Tim Encounters a Fae at a Gala

Which may be a problem, yes, but the much more alarming part? The Fae looks like Damian.

"This is pretty boring, don't you think?"

The voice comes from behind, and Tim recognizes it instantly, but at the same time, he doesn't. He's never heard Damian talk like this, easy and a little amused, with no usual stiffness to his speech. Yet this couldn't be anyone else - being a vigilante means you can never drop your guard even in your civilian identity, and who other than Damian could have sneaked up on him?

He turns around.

It is Damian, and at the same time, it's not. The boy looks just like the demon child, the same face, same height and skin tone, the same way he puts his hair. But something is wrong. The way he holds himself, his relaxed and almost lazy posture, the absence of a usual scowl on his face, the way he feels comfortable here, in a crowd of people.

And his eyes, when he looks at Tim. Icy blue, almost translucent, like the color of icebergs and glaciers.

The not-Damian tilts his head a little and smiles just slightly. Tim blinks, realizing that there was a question, and he just stares at the boy instead of answering.

"Yeah, sure," he clears his throat and breaks the eye contact, looking away from not-Damian's eyes, his thoughts a frantic mess. Is this another clone? Or some kind of a shapeshifter? In any case, they approached Tim first, he can't lose his chance at gaining some information. So Tim smiles back, "Is it your first time? At the gala, I mean."

Now, when he looks at the boy again, the stricking resemblance doesn't hit him so hard. Instead, Tim notices something else - the boy is... eerily beautiful. He's never noticed Damian looking this nice - because that would be kind of creepy if he did, - but this not-Damian is... He can't really put it into words.

He's just beautiful.

Almost unnaturally so.

"You could say that," not-Damian answers, looking over the crowd around them, "I'm not used to so many people around, but I've seen my fair share of social gatherings."

Tim blinks. That statement compiled with his absolute lack of any kind of nervousness makes little sense.

Alright, he needs to get at least some information from the mystery twin. He is a detective, for god's sake.

"Are you here with someone?" That can be a useful question. Tim sure as hell knows that Bruce could not invite some Damian lookalike without prior warning, which means the boy had to come as someone's plus one. Or he sneaked in with no invitation, that's also a possibility.

"My godfather should be here somewhere," not-Damian nods, scanning the crowd before nodding his chin in the direction of a small cluster of people. Tim follows his gaze and finds a white-haired man in a matching white and silver suit in the middle of telling some kind of story.

"Vladimir Masters?" He questions with a noticeable amount of disbelief. The man never said a word about having a godson. Ever. And Tim did a thorough background check on the owner of DalvCo.

"Got it in one," not-Damian grins. Is it just Tim, or do his teeth really look sharper than they are supposed to?

Come to think of it, his ears are also not as round as they should be.

Unnatural beauty, sharp teeth and pointy ears, questions answered in a vague and unclear way. And Tim hadn't noticed him blink even once.

He has a guess. He doesn't like it, it's a very, very bad guess, but Tim is a Bat, a Robin, and a Detective. He knows when he needs to trust his gut even if his gut is telling him absolute nonsense.

He just needs to make sure.

Tim swallows the anxious feeling in the back of his throat and turns back to not-Damian, smiling:

"I think I didn't catch your name?" He does his best at sounding confused and not alarmed. The boy's grin widens just a bit, but Tim feels a cold shiver run down his back, and his mind is all but screaming for him to run away for this is not human, and whatever it is, it is dangerous.

"Would you give me yours in exchange?" The boy's voice is soft and easy, not a hint of mischief. Just a casual question. Maybe a little teasing.

Tim's blood runs cold as he tries to remember everything he has ever read and heard about the fair folk. Never give them your name, but there has to be a way to answer this question, right?

"You may call me Damian," he finally answers. Maybe this is a risk, calling himself his brother's name, but Tim feels like this is somehow a right thing to do since the boy - the creature - looks like him.

Not-Damian's eyebrows shoot up, and there's a hint of surprise in his eyes when he starts quietly laughing. The heavy pressure of the air around him disappears at the sound of the crystalline laughter, like it was never there. Tim feels like he had just disarmed a bomb or passed a test with his own life at stake. Maybe he actually did.

"Clever," the boy grins again and nods politely, bowing his head down like they are at a medieval ball and not a gala, "My name is Danny. It is nice to meet my brother's brother."

| <-prev | next-> |

[mixingandmelting]

hey so how do you think the bat boys would deal with a s/o who they getting romantic with and s/o is like “If you keep looking at me like that I might pass away” or “The way you look at me makes me want to go lie down”. Basically s/o sometimes does not handle lovey dovey stuff well. They can give it out. But they kind of shut down when on receiving end and is very red faced?

Dick:

It’s your body’s way of telling him you love him in every sense; emotionally, mentally, and physically. Heat creeping down from your ears to your neck as you forget how to talk for a few seconds and he’s. All. For. It. Especially whenever you tease him over how he sometimes gets flustered from you showing affection, he uses it back against you. All he has to do is turn around and kiss you. Then, while your brain takes time to come back online, he can snuggle you to his heart content. Even better if you try hiding your face into his chest, he tends to let out a chuckle before hugging the life out of you and coo how adorable you’re being. 

Jason:

On one hand he wants to swaddle you in a blanket, destroy a table, squish the light out of you in his embrace, protect you from the world. On the other hand, he’d push it and call you by every affectionate term he tends to enjoy calling you by as it seems to be the safest without causing you to fully short-circuit. You’re just so damn cute whenever you go speechless and turn red that describing you as a “blushing mess” does it injustice. Makes him smug and giddy from your display of affection for him. And who is he to complain when you cling to him? It’s a good excuse to hold you while waiting for you to recover.  

Tim: 

The first time it happened, he thought it was out of vexation But, per usual, he’s quick to piece things together. Meaning, he knows what’s up. And boy, is he the worst. Always putting up a nonchalant front, he’d give you a peck on the lips or tell you how much he loves you randomly and/or passing by. Some days even doing both. But whenever he does it, mostly when you’re being cheeky, he would go back to whatever he’s doing and act as if he didn’t cause the mess behind him where you’re fumbling over your words with blazing cheeks. Others, not you, would know though as he would be suspiciously grinning and in a good mood. 

Duke: 

Bold for anyone to assume he’s okay after showering you with affection. The poor guy didn’t think you would like him THAT much. Hell, he still doesn't get what you meant by “the way you look at me makes me want to go lie down”. It doesn’t help that your reaction is infectious. Once you start doing it, he starts doing it, leading to the two of you to awkwardly stay there with matching faces, unable to look the other in the eyes. Yet, despite the amount of side comments, he doesn’t regret everything he’s done to show his love for you. Just give him time; he’s training in ways to help the both of you rebound back to normal faster. 

Damian:

He pretends to not care when it’s actually him who has a field day with it. After all, it’s his one way to get a win against you. He does it during the time you least expect it, showing his love for you through actions rather than words with a smirk once the telltale signs of you being “affection-overloaded” starts. It makes him greatly satisfied when you tell him “if you keep looking at me like that I might pass away”, though it’s after he referred to Dick and Tim he realized what you were trying to say. It won’t change your reaction towards him meant you’re his and he’s yours and there’s nothing more that can make him happier than he is now.

[eggfriedricedwasian]

Duke comes home one day from school looking down in the dumps and a bunch of paper work.

"Hey Duke, what's all that paper work for?" Dick asks from the couch as Duke sets the foot tall pile of papers on the coffee table.

"Oh you know, just, bullies making me do their work." The whole room freezes.

Bullies?

"Duke, you're being bullied?" Duke seems to realize his mistake of words. Instead of the excuse he made up to tell them about how he missed a lot of work because of Signal work, he said the truth which was the fact that he had bullies.

"Erm-"

"Duke, why didn't you tell us?" Dick nearly whines out, hurt his foster-brother didn't tell him about having bullies.

"No- guys, it's okay. Seriously. You don't have to do anything about it. Seriously." He eyes Bruce from where the man was about to type in *probably* the school's number to complain.

"Why not? We can deal with those punks for you. Are they being racist or some'n?" Jason crosses his arms, standing in front of Duke with a raised brow.

"A little. But seriously, it's nothing I can't handle."

Bruce rubs his temple.

"Are you sure? Are you sure you can handle this?"

"Yes."

"Thomas, just know, we can step in whenever." Duke turns a smile towards Damian, and places his hand on Cass's when she hugs him from behind.

"Hey- it's the weekend. Let me handle those papers since I've got nothing to do and I'm ban from case work." Tim says, holding his hand out.

"Uh- okay?" Duke hands him the stack, thinking nothing of it, because it's Tim.

Tim takes a look through the papers, scrunching his face a bit before shrugging, a smirk appearing on his face.

"Uh- should I be worried?" Tim looks at him and waves him off. "Nah, don't worry 'bout it. I got this handled."

Uh. Okay?

------------

The following Monday, Duke shows up and puts his stuff in his locker.

Or at least he was until it was slammed shut.

"Hey Thomas. Got our work?" Turning around, Duke faced his three bullies; seniors Clint Rodriguez (the "big dog" as he called himself) and his lackies, Arion Centry and Pete Swinez.

"N-No.."

"No? Where is it, bitch? I told you to have it done by Monday." Rodriguez held him up to the locker. "Oh you mean these papers?"

Turning around, there stood Timothy Drake-Wayne; two three time nepo-baby and the biggest reputation in the school. The real life Regina George and Heather Chandler. He was with his two best friends, also big popular kids and his two Gretchen Wieners, Karen Smith, and Heathers.

"Drake." The mere face of him made the trio seethe. "Hah! You should see your face right now. Anyways, I did your college essays for you, hope you enjoy them. Would be a shame if you had to repurchase the papers for them."

Tim tosses them in the air, and everyone watches as they all fall to the ground.

"What the hell did you do."

"Oh, ya know, the basics of what you should put. Also, this your girl?" A girl, a cheerleader, goes and slides herself under Tim's arm.

"Babe!?"

"Sorry, Clint, but I have a reputation, people can't know we dated. Also, Tim's better looking and a better kisser." Morgan Letto, another popular nepo-baby in Gotham High, turns and kisses Tim right in the hallway, before stalking off.

Tim's trio laughs at their faces.

"Hey! You should probably pick these up, ya know, since they have your names on them. Wouldn't want to get sent to the principles for littering the school. Bad reputation means you can't go to Princeton." Bernard says.

"Or Oxford, or Harvard. See ya losers!" Ives laughs along with Bernard and Tim as they walk through the halls.

As if a bomb dropped, the three seniors scramble to pick up hundreds of papers worth of applications.

" "I'm racist towards black people because they're below white people like me" " Someone reads off of one paper down the hall.

" "I use grades that aren't mine that I bully people into doing for me." " Another person reads nearby.

"Give me those!"

Duke is left standing there, struck by the scene that just unfolded before his eyes.

He didn't know what to say, do, or act.

Should he laugh? Play it off? Call Bruce? Or Tim? Or anyone? Get picked up?

It's fine. It's just one day. Right?

------------

Lunch time rolls around.

Duke is sitting at his table with his friends eating. They were prime targets for Clint and his group.

As if on cue, the three stride up.

"Hey Thomas, got Tim Drake to do your work for you, huh? Well guess what?"

He was spun around and picked up by the collar, his two friends being held back by Arion and Pete.

"You ain't getting away with it here." Clint grits out. Of course he chose the cafeteria, the pretty much only place teachers don't monitor 24/7 and is void of any supervision, even with every grade in there for lunch.

Clint set Duke down and lined his fist up ready to punch him. Duke flinched as the fist came swinging.

"Hey loser!"

Cheers and shocked 'Oooh!'s were heard from around. He squinted one eye open and saw food fall from Clint's red face and a tray in Tim's right hand.

"Woops! Sorry! Guess my hand slipped!" That got a laugh from the crowd. Tim set the tray down and pat Duke's should before stalking towards Clint.

Duke saw behind them at the far wall where everyone could see Ives and Bernard setting three trays of food down (The senior trio's trays).

"You'll pay for that, Drake!" Clint took a swing, which Tim dodged easily and side sweeped him onto his knees.

Ives and Bernard did the same to Arion and Pete.

The three took the seniors by the hair and dragged them to the trays the two laid out previously.

Cameras went up and Duke watched in muted awe and terror at what Tim was doing. Was Tim really like this when he still went to high school? He was a junior now and he dropped out sophomore year? Was he like this as a freshman?

The three pushed the seniors faces into the trays.

"Since you're the big dog maybe you should eat like a real dog then, bitch. Here's some kibble. Dogs enjoy this one!" Tim poured dog kibble onto Clint's tray, seeing as his face turns redder and shows more humiliation than he's ever seen on anyone.

"Eat it, bitch! Like the dog you are! Or start barking and begging for forgiveness!" Tim says it through his teeth in such a grueling tone it sends shivers down Duke's spine.

"Hey Arion! If you actually did your work, you'd know that your name is a horse in Greek Myth. So maybe you should neigh like one too! Neigh, neigh. Get to eating horsey! You should start prancing for the rodeo. Giddey'yup!" Ives mocks him pushing his head into the tray over and over.

"Swinez? More like Swine-ez! Oink-oink! You stink like a pig. And you're eating like one too! Ewwww! Disgusting. Hahahahhaha!" Bernard's name change made the whole cafeteria roar in laughter.

What made the laughter stronger was when the three brought out collars with leashes and attached them to it.

"Come boys! Start walking like the animals you are!" Tim called, pulling on Clint's leash, dragging him mostly until Clint got up and started crawling in front of him.

Everytime they tried to get up, the three juniors were behind them to push them down to the ground again.

Almost everyone was recording.

"Look everyone! Look at our new pets!" Ives called out.

"If you know any better, you three better keep your collars on. You should better than to make your owners mad!" Bernard barked out a laugh.

"I think, you guys should start speaking in woofs, neighs, and oinks from now on. Especially, when we make you ask forgiveness to those you bullied." Tim said, grabbing the collar and forcing Clint to look at Duke.

The bell rang, lucky for those three.

"Woops! Looks like the fun's over! You better clean up for mess! Wouldn't want to make the janitors work more." Tim walked off. "Or look like complete idiots with all that gunk on your face." Bernard said as he and Ives followed Tim.

------------

Later, when Duke got home, he was silent. Bruce was silent too, despite him being the one Duke expected to ask about the bullies since he slipped up and told them.

"Hey Duke, how was school? Did they mess with you again?" Dick asked.

He looked at him, then at the rest of his siblings, noting Tim wasn't there, swallowed and shook his head.

"N-Not really."

"Not really?" Jason looked confused, as did the rest of them.

Before Duke could explain more, Tim came in laughing, tossing his bag on a couch before hopping on Bruce's arm rest.

"Bruce! You won't believe what I did today." Bruce looked at him and smirked. Smirked.

Tim relayed the entire story of what he, Bernard, and Ives did to Clint, Arion, and Pete. Bruce looked proud and the rest looked shocked.

"My reputation still stands even after I've been gone a year!" Tim seemed very proud of that.

"Atta boy!" Bruce ruffled his hair. "Yes, here's the tray of cookies you were promised all to yourself, master Tim." Alfred handed him a whole plate of cookies. "Thank you!"

"What!?"

"Hold on! He gets a whole plate of cookies for that? Why isn't he in trouble!? When did you enroll back?" Jason was beyond furious.

"Tim had a reputation in school for being like that towards bullies. Which is why no one bullied anyone with him around. Guess they all came back when he was gone. Duke didn't want us doing anything, and he didn't expect Tim to do anything because you all think he's a goody two shoes, so I sent my calvary in." Bruce explained.

Tim laughed at their faces.

"Oh please! I'm just getting started with them! Just wait till the end of the week. Then! I'll be done with them and they won't ever come back to the school."

[rosemaryhoney27]

Ghosts, Bats, and a Jealous Witch

**Title: **Ghosts, Bats, and a Jealous Witch

Danny Fenton never thought he’d end up dating a vigilante. Sure, he’d fought alongside heroes before, but being romantically involved with one? That was new territory. And yet, here he was—standing on top of Gotham’s skyline with Cassandra Cain, better known as Black Bat, holding his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Ever since meeting Cass on a Justice League mission, they’d hit it off in an unexpected way. Danny admired her strength, her quiet intensity, and the way she could read people better than anyone he’d ever met. She didn’t talk much, but she didn’t need to. When she looked at him, he felt understood in a way no one else—not even Sam or Tucker—had ever made him feel.

Sam.

That was the problem.

Danny had expected his best friends to be happy for him. Tucker was cool with it, more amused than anything. But Sam? She was fuming.

“I don’t get it,” she had said the first time she saw him with Cass. “You’re telling me you, Danny Fenton, Ghost Boy, went all the way to Gotham and came back with a girlfriend? And she’s part of the Bat family?” Her voice had dripped with disbelief and something else—something darker. “What happened to ‘not dating superheroes’? What happened to being normal?”

Danny had laughed it off at first, assuming Sam was just being protective. But over time, her attitude soured. She became passive-aggressive, throwing little barbs at Cass whenever she was around.

“You don’t even talk,” Sam had scoffed once, crossing her arms. “What do you two even do together?”

Cass had merely tilted her head, unreadable as ever, before looking at Danny. “I like him. He likes me. Simple.”

Sam had huffed in irritation and stormed off.

It wasn’t until she started trying to sabotage their relationship that Danny had enough. The final straw was when Sam tried to get Tucker to hack the Batcomputer to dig up dirt on Cass’s past. That was when Danny snapped.

“You need to stop,” he had told Sam firmly, eyes glowing green with barely restrained anger. “I don’t know if you’re jealous or if you just don’t like me being happy with someone else, but you’re being toxic. I won’t let you ruin this for me.”

Sam had stared at him, mouth open in shock, but Danny had already turned away. That was the day he realized their friendship might not survive this.

Of course, dating someone from the Bat family came with its own problems.

Cass’s family was… overprotective, to say the least.

“You’re dating a ghost,” Jason Todd had deadpanned when he first found out. “That’s somehow the least weird thing to happen in this family.”

Bruce, ever the brooding father figure, had run Danny through every possible background check known to man. Alfred, while polite, made it very clear that he would not tolerate any supernatural nonsense in the Wayne household.

Damian had tried to challenge Danny to a duel. Danny had humored him, letting the kid think he had the upper hand before phasing through the ground and appearing behind him.

“You fight well,” Damian had admitted begrudgingly. “For a ghost.”

Then there was Barbara, who had grilled Danny about his intentions for Cass as if he were under FBI interrogation. Stephanie had just winked at Cass and told her to “have fun with the hot ghost boy.”

And then there was Tim.

Tim Drake had, in true detective fashion, locked eyes with Danny and said, “If you break her heart, I will find a way to exorcise you.”

Danny had gulped.

Despite the Bat family’s initial hesitation, they eventually warmed up to him (or at least tolerated him). Cass was happy, and that was all that mattered.

As for Sam? Well… she had made her choice. And Danny had made his.

“Ready?” Cass asked, standing on the edge of a rooftop, waiting for him to join her.

Danny smiled, taking her hand before they leapt into the Gotham night. “Always.”

[robinvomit]

† i hope : various.

⋆˙⟡ "I hope I die first, 'Cause I don't wanna live without you, I don't wanna ever learn, How to fall asleep without you, Tell me what's worse, Losing you now or later? Maybe, I can break the curse, And I can be in love forever, If I die first"

⋆˙⟡ featuring: dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake, damian wayne, cassandra cain, bruce wayne, ↦ kalico note: you know you're doing great when you tear up while writing. what does it say when the writer is crying? + SHIT SORRY, TW for mentions of death.

⋆˙⟡ 𝐃𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧 is warmth, is laughter, is the effortless joy of a sunrise after too many sleepless nights. he is the one who pulls you close when the world feels too heavy, the one who reminds you - without even trying - that love can be easy, that it can be safe. and maybe that's why the thought of losing him feels like swallowing glass, why the very idea of a life without him feels like something you would never recover from.

"i hope i die first."

you don't mean for it to slip out, but it does - soft, quiet, like a secret you never meant to share. his arms tighten around you instantly, the playful hum of the moment disappearing into something deeper, heavier.

"hey," he murmurs, leaning back just enough to look at you. his brows pull together, blue eyes full of something raw, something you weren't supposed to see. "what was that?"

you press your face into his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek, and you don't take it back.

"i don't want to learn how to live without you, dick." your fingers curl against the fabric of his shirt, desperate to keep him close, to keep him real. "if you go first… i won't know how to sleep in our bed. i won't know how to wake up without you next to me. i won't know how to be… okay again."

his breath hitches; so faint, so quiet, but you hear it. and then he's wrapping you up, holding you so tightly it almost hurts, pressing his lips to your forehead like he can breathe reassurance into your skin.

"baby," he whispers, his voice softer now, but laced with something unshakable. "i'm not going anywhere. not for a long, long time."

"you can't promise that."

he exhales, and you feel it more than you hear it. "maybe not. but i can promise this - no matter what, i'll always do my best to make my way back."

even as he kisses you - slow, lingering, trying to pull you back to something lighter - the fear doesn't leave. because if the universe is cruel, if it takes him first, you don't know if you'll ever recover.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

⋆˙⟡ 𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐝 already knows what it means to die. to be taken away, to leave behind the people who love him, to return only to find the world has kept turning without him. he doesn't talk about it - not the way he should, not the way that makes it easier to carry. but you know. you always know.

and maybe that's why you're scared. because he's already been gone once, already been a name carved in stone, already been a whisper of what once was. and if it happens again? if fate is cruel enough to steal him from you when you've only just learned what it means to love him?

"i hope i die first."

he freezes. completely.

you don't even realize you've said it out loud until you feel his grip on you shift, his hands moving to your waist, to your arms, like he needs to ground himself, like he needs to see your face, needs to read your expression, needs to confirm this is real.

"the hell kind of thing is that to say?" his voice isn't angry - it's something else. something tighter. something strained.

"jay-"

"no." he shakes his head, jaw tight, brows furrowed, that rare flicker of panic dancing just behind his eyes. "don't.. don't say shit like that."

"but it's true." your voice is softer now, but you don't back down. because it is true. because even thinking about a world where he isn't in it makes your chest ache, makes your lungs stop working properly.

his fingers tighten where they rest against your arms, like he wants to shake some sense into you or maybe himself. "you'd be fine without me."

"i wouldn't."

"you would."

"i wouldn't, jason." you exhale, long and slow, and place your hands over his, fingers curling around his wrists. you feel the pulse beneath his skin, steady, alive, and you can't help but cling to it. "i don't want to learn how to live without you. i don't want to know what that feels like. i don't want to wake up in an empty bed and try to figure out how to keep going when the person i love is gone."

something in his face breaks.

because jason knows loss better than anyone. jason knows what it means to wake up in a world that has moved on without him.

"you can't think like that," he mutters, voice rougher now, rasping around the edges. he leans forward, presses his forehead against yours, eyes slipping shut like he can pretend - just for a second - that this is a conversation that will never matter. "i'm right here. i'm not going anywhere."

"you don't get to promise that."

a slow inhale. a slower exhale. and then, his lips brush against your temple, against your cheek, against your mouth - all soft, all careful, all full of something he will never be able to put into words.

"then let me promise this." his voice is quiet now, barely more than a whisper. "if i ever do go first? if fate really is that much of a bitch?" he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, blue-green eyes burning with something dangerous, something desperate. "i will crawl my way back to you.. already done it once."

and somehow, you believe him.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

⋆˙⟡ 𝐓𝐢𝐦 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐞 exists on borrowed time. you have seen it in the way he moves, in the way he never stops, never slows down, never allows himself the luxury of standing still. he is a man who keeps one foot in the past, one foot in the future, and barely enough left for the present. you know he loves you. god, you know he does. but that doesn't stop the fear from creeping in, doesn't stop the thought from clawing at the back of your mind - what if one day, he doesn't come back?

"i hope i die first."

it's quiet, like a confession, like something you were never meant to say out loud.

tim stills, fingers halting where they had been lazily tracing circles against your wrist. his breath catches, just slightly, just enough for you to notice.

"that's not funny." his voice is soft, even, but there's something there. something cautious.

"i wasn't joking." you swallow, shifting so you can look at him, so you can see the way his expression shifts, the way his lips press together, the way his fingers tighten ever so slightly around your own.

"you can't-" he stops, inhales sharply, tries again. "i don't want to think about that."

"i don't either." your fingers thread through his, squeezing lightly. "but i don't want to think about losing you, either."

tim exhales, slow and steady, like he's processing something too heavy to carry. but then he leans forward, presses his lips to your forehead, and lets the silence speak for him.

because he doesn't know how to promise forever. but he knows how to love you while he's still here.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

⋆˙⟡ 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 was never supposed to love like this. love was not something given freely in his world, not something soft, not something safe. it was a weapon, a duty, a thing to be wielded with precision and purpose. and yet.

yet, when you love him - when you look at him like he is something worth loving - he is undone. and that is why your words strike him harder than any blade ever could.

"i hope i die first."

the moment you say it, he stops. every movement halts, every breath sharpens. his head tilts slightly, like he is assessing a threat - only this time, the threat is something he cannot fight, something he cannot defeat.

"you are being ridiculous," he says, carefully measured, but there is something beneath it - something tight, something raw, something almost panicked.

"damian-"

"no." his voice is sharper now, cutting through the air like a blade. his fingers clench at his sides, his jaw locking in that way it does when he is trying too hard to hold something in. "that is a weak way of thinking. a coward's way of thinking."

"it's not about being weak," you murmur, stepping closer. he doesn't move away, doesn't stop you, but his shoulders go tense beneath your touch. "it's about the fact that i don't want to live without you. that i don't want to figure out how to keep going in a world that took you from me."

his breathing is uneven now, his pulse thrumming beneath your fingertips. and for the first time in a long time, he does not know what to say. because damian has trained for every kind of battle, for every kind of loss, but he has never trained for this. he has never trained for the quiet, suffocating terror of loving someone so much that the thought of losing them feels worse than dying himself.

"you are not dying first," he finally says, low, firm, final. his grip on you tightens, pulling you closer. "that is not an option."

you exhale, shaking your head. "you can't control that."

"the hell i can't." his voice is rough, full of something dangerous, something desperate. he shifts, pressing his forehead against yours, his fingers trembling where they hold you. "i will not allow this world to take you from me."

"and if it takes you first?"

his silence is answer enough.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

⋆˙⟡ 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐢𝐧 does not speak often. she does not need to. her love is something quiet, something felt in the way she moves, in the way she touches, in the way she breathes. but tonight, she needs to hear your voice.

"i hope i die first."

she stops. completely.

her fingers, which had been absentmindedly tracing shapes against your skin, still. the gentle rise and fall of her breathing pauses. she does not speak, does not move, but you feel the way her heart pounds just a little harder against your back.

"why?" her voice is soft, careful, but there is something else beneath it. something fragile.

"because i don't want to live without you," you admit, barely above a whisper. "i don't want to wake up one day and realize you're not here anymore. i don't want to forget what your laugh sounds like, what it feels like to hold you."

cassandra swallows, her hands pressing more firmly against your sides, like she is physically keeping you close. she does not answer right away - because how could she?

"you would be okay."

"i wouldn't."

she shifts, her breath warm against your shoulder, her arms wrapping around you like something desperate. "i would not be okay either."

you blink, turning slightly so you can look at her. her expression is unreadable, but her eyes - god, her eyes - are raw, open, honest.

"then what do we do?" you murmur, tracing your fingers against her wrist.

she tilts her head, considers you carefully. and then, finally, she leans in, presses a slow, deliberate kiss against your temple, and breathes;

"we stay."

and for now, that is enough.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

⋆˙⟡ 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 has been preparing to die since the night he was old enough to understand what loss felt like. he has carried death on his shoulders, worn it like a cloak, let it become a part of him in ways that no man should. but you? you are different.

you are not something he is willing to lose.

"i hope i die first."

the words slip into the space between you, quiet, barely above a whisper. but bruce hears everything. he always hears everything.

his whole body tenses, his fingers curling against the fabric of his suit. he does not react immediately - he never does. but you can see it, in the way his jaw tightens, in the way his breath slows, in the way his eyes darken like the mere thought of your absence is something he refuses to entertain.

"you don't mean that," he says, but it is not a question.

"i do." you swallow, watching his face, trying to decipher what he's thinking. it's impossible, as it always is. "i don't want to live in a world without you, bruce. i don't want to know what it's like to wake up alone, to reach for you and find nothing."

he exhales sharply, closing his eyes for a brief moment - as if forcing the image from his mind. and then, when he opens them again, his gaze is sharp, steady, but there is something in it. something so painfully human.

"i won't let that happen."

"you don't get to choose that."

"i do." his voice is low, steady, but there is something unshakable beneath it. "i have spent my entire life ensuring that death takes me first. that it does not touch the people i love. i refuse to let it take you."

"bruce-"

"no." his grip on you tightens, not possessive, but grounding, like he is reminding himself that you are still here, still breathing. "you live. if something happens to me, you live. you fight. you move forward. that is what you do."

your throat tightens, your fingers gripping his arms. "you're asking me for something i don't think i'm strong enough to do."

bruce studies you for a long moment. and then, for the first time, his mask slips. his lips part slightly, his eyes soften, and when he speaks again, it is not batman who answers you. it is him.

"then i suppose i'll have to make sure you never have to."

[hearts4mica]

Yeah my boyfriend’s really cool (but he is not as cool as me).

90’s Conner Kent x Socialite! Batsis.

“How does the Batfam react by you dating a super?”

Masterlist requests are open!

———————————————————————————

Some weeks after the gala you and conner began to grow closer. Really closer. And it pissed Tim off.

And who wouldn’t be mad? He specifically told Conner his sister was off limits!

———————————————————————————

Conner began to come over to the Manor way more than before.

Whenever Con came over Bruce would just assume he just came over to hang out with Tim because why would he think otherwise?

A few months later Conner finally asked you out. You accepted and that’s just how you started dating. Nothing fancy tho.

Everything was doing fine until you finally told your family.

Damian was about to pull out some kryptonite to say the least.

Because why?!

A Wayne with a Kent? That’s was the last thing he needed

Jon already knew about you and Conner so he started calling Damian brother just to annoy him and well he also already saw Damian like a brother so it’s just a bonus. Now he gets to hang out with him even more!

Tim was mad real mad. He neeeded a talk with Conner.

“Why the fuck are you dating my sister after i specifically told you not to! She is off limits do you even know what that means?!” Tim yelled at him ‘raising’ him by the collarneck

“Dude calm down it’s just… love works… in mysterious ways” “Oh don’t go all hippie on me Conner!”

And the news weren’t staying behind.

———————————————————————————

Gotham News!

Daily News xx/xx/xxxx

[name] Wayne daughter of philantrophist Bruce Wayne got caught on a date with infamous hero superboy?

Find out everything here ->

Pictures of Miss Wayne have been all over social media where [name] Wayne and Superboy have been spotted at Metropolis park together on a date!

Many people have publicly expresed the unhappiness with this news.

———————————————————————————

“Damn this is spreading like a fire” Conner said laying down on the couch

“They’re saying it like it’s the most important thing ever. Ahem ‘Omg Miss Wayne spotted holding hands!’ And those pictures aren’t even clear enough! I mean i know it’s me but they’re blurry how did they even know!”

“[name]!” a voice says barging into the room. Dick barged in turns to look at Conner “and Conner…” makes a disgust face and turns away to stare at you.

“Is this how i find out that you are dating- Conner?! By some Newspaper?! How dare you not tell me! I’m supposed to be your favorite brother! Yo-your older brother!” He shakes your shoulders “Im heartbroken!”

“Dick calm down! It’s not the end of the world?-“

“No!- It is! Baby bird i was supposed to know first! I am your older brother- the- one you’re meant to tell everything first! That’s what i’m here for!

“Well i thought you already knew? Everyone else did!”

“So everyone else already knew?!” He looks devastated like you just insulted just Discowing costume again.

———————————————————————————

With Damian things are different tho.

Now whenever Conner comes over he has to bring on offer to Damian or he won’t leave you both alone. And i mean it he WONT leave you alone.

———————————————————————————

On a normal tuesday you invited Con over like normal but Damian had decided to hangout with you that day so he is laying down on your bed watching TV until Conner slams the door open. Damian quickly grabs his emergency katana until he realizes it Conner.

He turns around to look at you and then turns around and glares at Conner.

“What is that doing here [name]? I thought we we’re hanging out today, are you ditching me for that thing?.”

“Dude you did not just call me ‘thing’-!” Conner says almost feeling insulted

“Well i already told Conner to come over before you came in Dami”

“Are you seriously choosing it over me?”

“Stop calling me It! Plus i brought dearest damian here an offering.” He takes out a small bunny and hands it to him. “Is this a good enough Dami?

“Ew don’t you don’t ever get to call me that again Kent. And…” examines the small bunny a small forming on his face while looking at the bunny . “I suppose i could leave you alone for a while…” his smile going away after saying those words.

“Great! Bye bye Damian” pushes him out of the room but Conner doesn’t notice Damian sneaking a small piece of kryptonite on Conner’s pocket making Conner sick some minutes after making Conner check his pockets finding the small piece of kryptonite.

Well now since he is ‘feeling bad and weak’ he is staying over the night!

Remind him to tease thank Damian for that.

———————————————————————————

Comments, reposts, and likes are thanked!

Requests are open!

My masterlist.

[mimiii-3]

I LOVE SABOTEURR , that's such a cool conceptt, how would they realize they're also yandere for the reader ?

Hmmm great question🤔

…

Saboteur Pt.3

Yandere Platonic Batfam x GN Neglected Reader

Notes: typical yandere themes, stupid batboys

…

Bruce

Bruce was grateful to leave for patrol after the emotionally exhausting confrontation between you and your brothers. Bruce sits atop Gotham’s Cathedral, covered by the shadow of an imposing gargoyle.

His cowl masks the sour expression that’s stuck on his face. He can’t remember the last time you raised your voice in the manor. Let alone at him.

The hurt in your voice as you made your long-brewing confession rings in his ears. How long has his sweet child felt this way? When was the last time he asked you how you were doing? How long has he been such a deadbeat?

Rain starts to fall over Gotham like a hazy blanket. The wind grows crisp but fails to subside the simmering anger that festers in Gotham’s dark knight.

Dick

The drive to Bludhaven seems to be endless as Dick weaves in and out of traffic. His slender fingers drum nervously against the wheel. Something’s wrong. Something’s very wrong.

He just can’t seem to place it. Were you always this complicated? Since when were you so desperate for attention?

Dick shakes his head in disbelief. The timid soul he’s known all these years is a fraud…a shyster. He doesn’t know whether to feel pity or anger.

One on hand he’s mad that you’ve been lying to the family for who knows how long. On the other hand he can’t help but feel bad for his little sibling.

Dick’s conflicted emotions wear at his easy-going persona. He sucks his teeth and eases back into the seat. He needs time. Time to think this through. Time to decide what he’ll do to you when he finds out where you’ve gone.

Tim

Tim mindlessly scrolls through the videos and screenshots of you framing their darling. Your work is amateurish but somehow skated by them.

There’s one picture that stands out to him. He increases the image on the monitor. It shows Bruce patting the top of your head while you practically beam at him.

A simple pat on the head and you’re happy as a clam. Tim never realized how easy it was to win your affection. If he had known, maybe he’d have given you a hug every once and a while.

Tim’s imagination drifts off as he picks through the security tapes. Each one leaving a trail of jealousy in their wake.

Damian

Impressive. His older, idiotic sibling is more capable than he thought. You’ve been framing the family’s darling for months without a hint of remorse.

He feels almost proud of you. Such viscous behavior while simultaneously pretending to be darling’s friend. How cutthroat of his completely useless sibling.

Damian, curious to learn more about the deceiver living in his home, makes his way to your room. He opens your bedroom’s sticker-covered door and scrunches his nose. The smell of overlapping, burnt candles wafts out of the room.

The walls of your room drip with personality. Damian takes one long look and shuts the door behind him. What else have you been hiding from his all this time?

…

Extra Notes: the calm before the storm🫣

[iamhereforfunnzies]

CHAPTER 3 :Woo's& Tears

Strange. Damian feels strange, like he's missing something. He looks around the couch and sees that everyone is here. Tim and Steph are fighting for the popcorn, Jason is trying not to cry as Dick makes fun of him, Father is sighing but smiling nonetheless, and Cass and Damian are deciding on the next movie. He must be overthinking things—everyone that matters is here. Maybe he’s just psyching himself out; Mother always said he had a tendency to do that during missions.

As the credits roll and everyone heads to their respective rooms for the night, a ponytail sways past the halls, a skirt flowing with each step, humming softly. (Name)’s face is adorned with a huge, plastered smile as she holds a My Melody plushie tightly.

Oh.

You weren’t there.

Standing behind you, Damian feels a shiver run down his spine, and it seems he isn’t the only one.

“I didn’t realize (Name) was out,” Tim chimes in from behind him.

“It slipped my mind,” Damian replies.

“Family movie night is required. We never really get to spend time with each other.” Tim eyes the plushie as you begin to fade away down the hall.

“(Name) broke the rules.”

The two stumble through doors and hallways until they reach your room. You jump slightly from your seat while applying your skincare.

“Is there something you need?” you ask, confused.

“Why weren’t you at movie night?”

You freeze.

"Everyone was there," Tim adds, looking between you and Damian.

“Yup! Even Jason showed up,” Dick grins.

“I didn’t think it would matter whether I was there or not.”

Damian’s eyes narrow. “How selfish and uncaring of you to assume the family wouldn’t notice.”

You look down, facing the floor. “Did you?”

Tim hesitates as Damian crosses his arms, holding his nose as if in irritation.

“Even still, you should come,” Tim insists. “It’s not often the family gets to be together.”

Your voice turns hoarse. “Answer the question. Did you or did you not notice?” Your fingers scratch anxiously at your arm.

“That’s besides the point—”

“We didn’t,” Damian cuts in. “Maybe you should actually contribute something to this family instead of just standing around waiting to be noticed.”

His words cut like a knife.

Your head lifts, expression blank. The boys tense under your stare.

“I’ve been trying so fucking hard,” you whisper. Then louder— “LOOK AROUND YOU, DAMN IT! I WANTED TO BE A PART OF THIS MANOR, BUT YOU NEVER LET ME IN!”

Your hands tremble as you motion to the awards decorating your walls.

“I NOTICED ALL OF YOU—going out at night, the bruises, the scratches, the injuries, the sleepless eyes, the bandages—but you never tell me anything.”

Your voice cracks.

“I didn’t do all this just to win some cheap medal, some stupid trophy, or a goddamn piece of paper.”

What you thought was a fit of rage—wild, explosive—is different in their eyes.

To them, you look more like a pitiful, hissing cat.

Damian’s expression darkens. “Maybe it’s because you’re not good enough. Do something actually worthwhile for once in your life.”

Silence.

Tim looks horrified. “Why the hell would you say that?!” He clamps a hand over Damian’s mouth.

“(Name), he didn’t mean it—”

Tim’s voice wavers as he takes in your disheveled form.

Your hands are still scratching—harder, harder—until blood beads along the raw skin of your arm.

You don’t say anything, but your eyes scream at them.

The door swings open.

“Why is there so much screaming? It’s late,” Dick mumbles, rubbing his eyes.

He stops.

Tim is restraining Damian, who looks like he’s about to throw more venom at you. Dick sighs.

You were always so understanding.

He remembers how you smiled even after Damian first tried to harm you.

"He’ll warm up to me!"

Your voice echoes in his mind.

Dick steps forward, voice soft. “(Name), you know Damian is… emotional. Let’s not take it to heart, okay?” He gives you his signature charming smile.

But something is different.

You’re not looking at him.

"Rubbish," you whisper. Your voice is hoarse, deep, almost unrecognizable.

Dick flinches.

“(Name), let’s not get ahead of ourselves—”

You glare at him.

Why are you glaring at him?

"GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!"

You scream at the top of your lungs, waking the whole manor.

Your scratching becomes more frantic, each scrape drawing more blood.

Dick reaches out to hug you, but you scream and shove him away.

That’s when Damian snaps, breaking free from Tim’s grasp.

Before anyone can react—

Rip.

Damian tears Melody’s head from its body.

“QUIET DOWN. YOU’RE ACTING LIKE A CHILD.”

Silence.

Your voice disappears.

Your eyes—wide, unblinking—move between Melody’s head and Damian.

Tim and Dick exchange frantic glances, silently begging Damian to apologize, but he stands firm.

“Act like a child, get treated like one,” he mutters, dropping the plushie’s head onto the floor.

Your eyes follow the trail of stuffing.

Tim and Dick yank Damian out of the room, leaving you frozen in place, staring at Melody’s remains.

“WHAT POSSESSED YOU TO DO THAT?!”

Dick smacks the back of Damian’s head as Tim recounts the events.

“Did you not see her reaction?” Tim snaps. “SHE WAS BEING A CHILD! IT’S JUST A TOY,” Damian protests, rubbing the sore spot where Dick hit him.

Dick exhales sharply, trying to calm himself. “You are going to apologize.”

Damian glares. “WHY SHOULD I?!”

Tim buries his face in his hands.

“(Name) is sensitive,” Tim says, voice quieter now. “We’ve talked about this. You can’t be so harsh.”

Damian scoffs, but Tim’s next words shake him.

“Did you see how her eyes dropped when you ripped that plushie? You went too far.”

Dick nods. “Apologize first thing in the morning. (Name) looked exhausted, and you need to reflect.”

Damian opens his mouth to argue—

Then he remembers your expression.

Your eyes—wide, hollow, filled with an agony he could almost hear.

Fine. He’ll apologize.

He’ll get you another plushie.

Though, the thought of you winning it at a fair—on a date, perhaps—irks him more than it should.

“Fine.”

Bruce hears about what happened.

Why must two of his children be such complete opposites?

One, so hard-headed and cruel.

The other, so fragile and emotional.

Yet, his stomach twists uncomfortably the longer he goes without seeing you.

He walks into your room.

You’re curled up on the floor, cradling the plushie’s head, dried tears staining your cheeks.

His heart tightens.

Your arms are scratched raw, streaked with dried blood.

Even in such a pitiful state, he can’t help but think you look… small.

So childlike.

So innocent.

Crying over a broken toy.

It’s okay. He’ll fix it.

No matter how tall you get, you will always be his baby.

Bruce gently lifts you, tucking you into bed. He makes a mental note—he needs to switch your room.

His eyes drift toward the awards on your walls.

Oh. How talented you are.

When did you achieve all this?

Wait.

They aren’t recent.

They’ve been there for years.

Bruce’s breath hitches.

No. No, no, no.

He never came to any of these.

His hands tremble as he rushes around the room, searching.

No.

Slowly, his head turns back to you.

Tossing.

Turning.

His vision blurs.

A tear drips onto his face.

Fact: (Name) doesn’t know about the Family being vigilantes ; if your wondering what about Jason? She came after Tim and they explained that he was just in hiding because bad people were after him; she was young and impresional so she believed it. Cause why would an adult lie to her?

Tags: @asillysimp @leeiasure @strwberryglass @prorpy @simannss

@1abi @knuiui @justafrixie @uu-uuu @ryuushou @tsxukikami

[witherby]

Itsame!! How do you think the batfam would react to taking in a Mouse that was a villain kid? annnddd had somewhat unhinged tendencies from growing up w/ their parents?

thank you el!

--🎆

Hmm. In normal circumstances, I think they'd all react very patiently and just steer you in the direction of making good decisions instead of bad. Damian was raised by a league of killers, and they rolled with that without blinking. You'd have to be the child of someone super fucked up to make them think twice about who you are as a person. Like extremely fucked up.

Like, the worst person they could think of.

The cave was dead silent. Every member of the family stood around a table and looked at the documentation Bruce finished putting together in regards to the child he'd locked in a cell just down the hall with a mixture of dread and concern. Information was sparse, but the DNA tests and mannerisms were more than enough to paint the picture no one was acknowledging.

Tonight's patrol was supposed to be a routine one — investigate some leads, stop some crimes, then come home and go to bed. What Batman and Robin found instead, by pure happenstance, was a partially completed setup for an elaborate death trap that the Joker had been working on, which was then subsequently blown up in a half-hearted effort to kill them so he could escape.

They'd survived, obviously, but it wasn't just Batman and Robin that came back.

"So the clown fucks," Jason finally blurted. "Think he's only got one spawn?"

"Yes, as far as I can tell," Bruce said, rubbing the back of his neck. The migraine he'd been fighting off all night was swiftly worsening. He just wanted to go to bed. "Joker didn't seem to realize he'd left the child behind when he escaped tonight. I think she wasn't supposed to be there."

"Understatement of the century, B," Dick mumbled, thumbing through the papers again. "How did he manage to keep her secret for so long? That kid is, like, seven or eight."

"How did that frivolous hack keep her alive for so long?" Damian asked. "I'm just as impressed as I am concerned."

"We can figure that out later," Tim said, addressing the biggest problem, "what do we do about the Joker's kid?"

Everyone exchanged looks with each other, all silently coming to the same series of conclusions:

1. They couldn't put the child in the System. Her history and yet uncatalogued behaviors could lead to major issues, and the Joker would find and retrieve his kid in a matter of days.

2. They couldn't put the child in Arkham. There wasn't a ward set up to handle children. She was too young to be there, and breakouts from the Asylum were a common occurrence, so she'd inevitably go back to him.

3. They couldn't put the child in Juvenile Detention. As far as they knew, she hadn't committed any crimes, so there was nothing to convict her of in order to have her admitted.

Which meant, for the foreseeable future...

Jason stood up, thumbs gliding down the handles of his guns. Bruce gave him a sharp look and he holstered them with a shrug.

"You know I'm not actually gonna hurt 'er," he sneered, grabbing his helmet to slide it on. "But she don't know that. What's a little intimidation between a captor and captive, huh? I'm just lookin' to get some info about our new roomie is all."

"You can just ask," Bruce said. "That's a child in there, Hood, regardless of whose it is. We can approach this peacefully."

"Oh, fuck off. Your favorite wacko popped out a baby and he's been raising it for years. We can't assume this kid is any more logical than the shit-pile it came from."

Jason marched past Bruce and vanished down the hall where they kept the containment cells. Bruce hurried after him, scowling, and the remaining three followed suit with different levels of curiosity and caution.

"This isn't going to be good..." Dick muttered.

It didn't take long to reach your cell. The door was made of bulletproof glass, and the walls and floor were a smooth beige color, with pressure sensors to keep track of your location, oxygen levels, and heart rate. In one corner of the room was a toilet with a privacy curtain and a sink, and in the other was a plain bed with two pillows and a blanket.

You were lying in the middle of the floor, staring up at the ceiling with vacant eyes a placid smile on your face. You had on white face paint with a bold, red lip and blue triangles above and below your eyes, a bright green button-up shirt with a black bowtie, suspenders, brown pants, and black shoes that clicked every time you bumped your feet together.

Click. Click. Click.

Aside from the rhythmic bumping of your shoes, you were dead silent and unmoving in the cell. You didn't even look up when Jason walked up to the door and leaned against it, whistling for your attention.

"Hey, you," he called. "Name, now."

You didn't answer. Jason banged his fist against the glass, listening to the sharp reverb.

"When I speak, you answer," he barked. "What's your fuckin' name, kid?"

Click. Click. Click. You continued to admire the ceiling, arms splayed out at your sides.

"That's real cute," Jason growled, punching in the code to unlock your cell door. "You gonna pretend like you can't hear me? That's fine, lemme come to you then. I'll make sure you pick up the message loud and clear —"

"Red Hood!" Bruce said, grabbing his arm. Jason shook it off and stormed inside, grabbing a fistful of your shirt and lifting you off the ground. You didn't fight him, body limp and pliant in his grasp, and continued to watch the ceiling.

Click. Click. Click. Your feet bumped against each other even still. Unbothered. Undisturbed.

"Name," Jason demanded, voice warping badly through his voice modulator the angrier he got. You didn't acknowledge him. "I'll start asking you in other languages. Don't think you can get out of answering me that way, either."

"I think that's enough, Red Hood," Dick said, slipping into the room before Bruce could get in and potentially make things violent. He walked around behind you and gently hooked his hands under your armpits, coaxing you out of Jason's grasp. "You're probably scaring her. Let's all just —"

You giggled. It startled Dick badly enough he dropped you, and you crumbled to the floor like a puppet with cut strings. Your giggling grew louder as you carefully straightened out, lying on your back with your arms splayed again, and you smiled up at the ceiling.

"What's there to be afraid of?" You asked, voice sweet and cheery. It was also strangely soft, nothing like the harsh pitch of your progenitor. "The batcifists have captured me. I'm perfectly safe and sound."

No one moved. You hummed, shifting your head side to side with a wistful sigh.

"Batcifists. Get it? Bat-pacifists? Because you don't kill people? Popsy said you guys didn't find most jokes funny, and I guess it's true..."

Click. Click. Click. You knock your feet together again as silence momentarily descends upon the room.

"Does your popsy talk about us a lot?" Tim asked from the doorway.

"You're my bedtime stories," you muttered. Click. Click. Click. "Popsy says his greatest dream is to make you all laugh so hard you choke."

Dick crouched down next to you, frowning. You kept your gaze on the ceiling.

"What about you?" He asked. "What's your dream?"

"I'm Popsy's favorite toy." The smile on your face grew wider, more genuine. Click. Click. Click. "His absolute favorite."

Jason abruptly turned and left the room, stomping down the hallway. Damian looked visibly uncomfortable and followed soundlessly after his brother.

Click. Click. Click.

"Well, we can't call you Toy, can we?" Dick reasoned gently. "Do you have a name? What does your popsy call you?"

You giggled again. It was a gentle, melodic thing, that gradually worsened and grew louder, until you were clutching your stomach and kicking your feet with sheer glee. Your sharp cackling echoed through the room, the remaining bats all watching you with varying levels of horror. In the throes of it, you sounded exactly like him.

Nearly a minute went by before you started settling down again, wiping a stray tear from your face. You chirped your name with obvious pride as you clicked your feet together.

"Punchline!"

[star--bird]

I just realized how easily it would be for rumors to be started about the Batkids actually being Bruce's biological kids. Think "Prince Harry's father is actually Princess Diana's former head of security" type rumors.

Dick Grayson: Is mostly free of rumors since there is the story about his parents tragically dying but Bruce never adopted him. Could it be because he is his biological father? Also everyone was a bit too cool with this random guy taking this kid. And he looks a lot like him.

Jason Todd: Jason just kind of showed up one day, his parents weren't known, and there is no adoption record. And what would you know, another kid who looks just like Bruce. Must be his kid.

Tim Drake: His fellow billionaire neighbor's kid that spends a lot of time with him. Classic rich person affair. And Tim looks more like Bruce than his father! Gasp! Tim is *obviously* his kid.

Cassandra Cain: Again, she just showed up one day with no explanation. Obviously his kid.

Damian: Is his kid, probably used as justification behind a lot of these theories.

Duke Thomas: Is also mostly free of rumors since his parents are still alive and the story of what happened to them made the news however people constantly ask him which kids are actually Bruce's and he has to regularly avoid tabloid journalists.

Stephanie Brown: Again, mostly free of rumors but one time a tabloid published a headline claiming that her baby was Bruce's. Bruce used a shell company to buy the press and fired anyone who worked on that "story."

I also imagine that this is the type of thing where people like to debate which kids are Bruce's and which are actually adopted. People mostly speculate on who the mothers of Cass and Jason are. There are lots of social media posting theories about this and there are social media posts criticizing people who do theorize about this calling it weird and obsessive. Jason made the tabloids once for cussing out a journalist who asked if his mom was a popular Gotham actress. I also like to imagine that a lot of people who don't follow tabloid gossip assume that Bruce's kids are biologically his, especially with some of the older ones.