#Robin 02

[ghost-bxrd]

So… about that audio…

[undertheredhood]

jason 'perfect poker face' todd: and that is the story of how i got myself permenantly banned from three countries in the span of two months!

tim 'know it all' drake: *immediately picking up his stalking hobby because he doesn't know if jason is telling the truth or not*

[vuldak-juneau]

Who: @robinxofxstars Where: Progress Day Celebration - merchants' tents When: Progress Day Celebration (Days 1 or 2) Notes: let me know if you need changes

It made perfect sense that the merchants' booths overflowing with curios, relics, and artifacts ought to be where a pirate and a fledgling member of the Thieves Guild would cross paths during the Progress Day celebration. When she spotted Robin, her initial thought was one of hope he wasn’t as drunk as he had been at Lupercalia–his intoxication then had seemed to be the byproduct of some sort of heartbreak she only possessed a fraction of the context required to understand. But it seemed like he was better today. Or at least sober. “You know, I haven’t forgotten that you said you owed me a favor back at Lupercalia,” Juneau lorded over him as she eyed a wholly unimpressive booth. “Maybe I’ll find something here I would like to cash that favor in for.”  Well–here in a general sense, certainly not at the current display of counterfeit gems. Costume jewelry had never been her taste, despite the fact she still wore a false emerald on a long chain tucked beneath her clothing.

[gffa]

LMAO HELP JASON IS SURROUNDED BY THE WORLD’S SMARTEST ABSOLUTE DUMBASSES Sometimes your brothers can know too many things and it just makes them so goddamned dumb and then Jason has to put up with them, please someone help him, he deserves better than to have to deal with this, his life is a nightmare.

[rudikawhy]

The Mentalist (2008-2015)

6×02 "Black-Winged Redbird"

[carbone14]

Batman n° 33 - Février 1946

Cover de Dick Sprang

[incubusnero]

Person: @robinxofxstars Location: Post Neptunalia Events, just guys being dudes He'd bothered getting out of the rhinestone swimwear in favor of pants and one of the many white billowing shirts he had in his closet, everyone knew the one. "There you are." The thing about Neptunalia was that it was a party and parties around those parts had an afterparty, sometimes an afterparty after the afterparty. Diving incident aside, he'd still bothered to show up to see Robin after his event was over, made a rather pointed point to do that clingy thing where he wrapped an arm around his shoulders from behind. It'd maybe be embarrassing if he hadn't been drinking a little with Eridani to help her forget her faux pas in front of Calpurnia. "Glad to see you and the Captain made it out of whatever the hell you signed up for in one piece." What he really wanted to know was Robin's opinions on mermaids, but he'd refrain for the moment.

[nfcomics]

BATMAN NO MANS LAND OMNIBUS HC VOL 02 • cover art • Bill Sienkiewicz [Sept 2022]

Months after a massive earthquake cut off Gotham City from the rest of the United States, Batman and his allies are still struggling to maintain law and order. When an unlikely savior arrives offering to help rebuild Gotham, their assistance might come at a grave cost.

The epic conclusion to Gotham’s darkest hour includes all of the crossover issues from one of the biggest story events in DC Comics history.

Contains: Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight no.122-126; Azrael: Agent of the Bat no.58-61; Batman no.569-574; Batman: Shadow of the Bat no.89-94; Detective Comics no.736-741; Catwoman no.75-77; Robin no.68-73; The Batman Chronicles no18; Nightwing no.38-39; Batman No Man's Land no.0; Batman: No Man's Land Secret Files no.1

Written by Chuck Dixon, Greg Rucka, Dennis O'Neil, and others Art by Dale Eaglesham, Scott McDaniel, and others (W) Various (A) Various (CA) Bill Sienkiewicz

[larrystylinsontweets]

02/01/2011

@robintwist: @JayTommo my little swamp duck, why aren't you following Mr Womderful?

[rowanmaxim]

Person: @robinxofxstars Location: It's Neptune's Fleet and it's docked "So what have you gotten up to?" The outline of the pomegranate is done and looks pretty nice if he did say so himself. Wiping away excess ink on Robin's arm, he looked up from his supplies to observe his fellow cambion. It shouldn't be a thing anymore for him, trying to live vicariously through a pirate, but there was always going to be a part of him that thought that he might have missed a calling. Elokian had pointed out the call of the sea was something every pirate heard and yet she hadn't called out to him, not really. Which meant it was glaringly apparent Rowan was looking for some kind of escape route.

[insilverbay]

POST & VERSE TAGS

open | create my own destiny, dash commentary | with a frailty of thorns, asks | listen closely, anonymous | we’ve got some secrets, ask memes | bound by friendship and by hatred, crack | two sides of the same coin, games | i dare you to do this, lore | long twisted story, verse ?? | heart-rendering, verse 01 | split by loyalties, verse 02 | repay my faithfulness, verse 03 | pawns of destiny, verse 04 | a divine favor, verse 05 | made your peace, verse 06 | voice of destiny, verse 07 | with dignity and honor, npc | robin, npc | gopher wood, npc | mother, shipping | spilling our secrets

[ghost-bxrd]

(“the weather warmer, he is colder”)

— Army Dreamers, Kate Bush

[undertheredhood]

i feel like out of all of the bat-siblings, jason is the one who puts on a persona similar to how bruce acts in public, but not because he wants to keep people from suspecting that he’s the red hood but because of how much it really unsettles the people that really know him, especially his siblings.

i just know that the second they hear him giggle or obnoxiously flirt, the entire batfamily is dragging him to the nearest magical specialist to get him exorcised.

and that’s the exact type of chaos that jason lives for.

(also, damian also likes fucking with his siblings so when he sees jason put on his bimbo persona he immediately puts on a golden retriever type of persona as opposed to his normal black cat self, which freaks out his siblings even more).

[huntresswcyne]

➷ tag drop

[cumtastiics]

EMPTY PROMISES / ch.1

yan batfam. elements of neglect.

join my discord server!!! pls 🙏 here

present time.

You sat on your bed, curled up, while the old vinyl player in the corner of your room screeched from overuse. Not that you noticed.

You wiped your watery eyes, brushing away the tears that streamed down your face, your face hurting from how much you rubbed at it.

The scratchy melody echoed your inner turmoil, a symphony of loneliness and despair. Your gaze drifted to the window, where raindrops raced down the glass, mirroring the tears on your cheeks. Outside, the world moved on, oblivious to the storm raging within your four walls.

Your room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a cage. Faded posters clung to the walls, their edges curling inward as if trying to escape. Dust motes danced in the pale light filtering through threadbare curtains, settling on untouched books and long-forgotten toys. The air hung heavy with the scent of stale dreams and unspoken words.

Downstairs, muffled voices and clattering dishes signaled another family dinner you weren't invited to join. Not that they'd notice your absence. You were a ghost in your own home.

You still remember the first few days you arrived at the manor- it always brought a bitter smile to your face.

You traced the outline of a bat embroidered on your pillowcase, a symbol that should have united you with your family. Instead, it felt like a brand, marking you as an outsider. The emblem mocked you, its wings spread wide as if to fly away, while you were left behind.

Bruce, with his brooding silence and rare, fleeting smiles, was like the manor itself - imposing, full of secrets, and impossible to truly know. Dick was the golden child, the first Robin. Even then, the rest of them were just as loved and cherished. Yet, you weren't.

You hated it.

02/04/20XX, 7 years prior.

“Can I call you father too?”

The words were barely a whisper, but in the silence that followed, they rang louder than any explosion. The table was still, the air thick with an uneasy tension. The question lingered, unanswered, hanging between you and the man who had taken you in.

Bruce didn’t respond right away. His eyes flickered up, only for a moment, and then he returned to his dinner, the clink of his fork on the plate harsh against the silence. His expression never changed. He never looked at you the way he looked at them, the way he looked at Dick, or even Damian—no, not even close. His face was stone, unreadable, like it always was. The walls around him were so thick, you couldn’t even begin to imagine what was behind them. But you had tried. You tried for so long to break through, to get him to see you, to accept you in a way that felt real.

But that was never going to happen.

His voice, when it came, was flat, distant. “Just keep it as Mr. Wayne. It'll be easier that way for both of us.”

Your heart sank, and you quickly looked down, pretending to focus on your own food as if it could distract you from the heavy weight now pressing down on your chest. The others sat quietly, as though this was nothing new. As if this was just the way things were. You weren’t one of them—not really.

Damian, seated at the opposite end of the table, didn’t even glance in your direction. His eyes were fixed firmly on his plate, his posture perfect as always. The others had their places at this table. They had earned their places. But you? You were just a guest. A shadow. An afterthought.

Dick was the first Robin, the one who had earned Bruce’s affection through years of dedication, of trust. You’d always admired him, but it was hard not to resent the way Bruce looked at him—like he was the perfect son, the one who could do no wrong. You weren’t that. You were nothing like that.

There was an emptiness to the way things were, a hollow space at the table that you couldn’t fill no matter how hard you tried. The seat next to Dick wasn’t yours. The place next to Damian wasn’t yours. The seat next to Bruce? That one? That seat would always remain empty for you, no matter how many times you pulled your chair up to it, no matter how many meals you sat through, watching them laugh, watching them talk, watching them be a family.

And you, you were just a stranger in their midst.

You didn’t belong here. You never had. The truth of it stung more than you cared to admit.

The room was too quiet. The only sound was the hum of the air conditioning and the clink of utensils against plates, nothing to fill the silence that had settled around you like a thick fog. You didn’t speak again. What was the point? You had already asked the question. You already knew the answer.

"May I excuse myself?" You whispered, your voice barely audible. You felt yourself about to cry, and you couldn't dare to cry in front of them. You'd be too... Weak.

"You may."

You got up, your nails digging into your palms, trying desperately not to cry. Despite that, you were looking down, knowing well looking up would make it harder for the tears to fall.

You pushed in your chair, walking away. You felt the bile rising in your throat, but you couldn't do anything but walk. You hated them all, they were all stupid, undeserving-

"Master (____)?" Alfred's voice cut in. He was the only one who cared, but sometimes you still wondered if he really did care. His tone was gentle, but there was something else beneath it-concern, maybe, or pity. You didn't know which one was worse.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stand straighter before turning to face him. "Yes, Alfred?"

His eyes, always so knowing, studied you carefully. He didn't need to say anything to make you feel seen, exposed. It was unbearable.

"You hardly touched your meal," he said, nodding toward the barely eaten plate left behind. "Shall I prepare something for later?"

You shook your head. "I'm not hungry."

Alfred didn't press, though you could tell he wanted to. Instead, he simply gave a small nod, stepping aside as if to grant you passage. You took it, walking past him, feeling the weight of the conversation you had just left behind pressing harder on your chest with each step.

The manor was too big. Too cold. Too empty.

Even with all the people in it, all the noise they made, it was hollow. And you... You were just another ghost wandering its halls, unseen and unheard.

You climbed the stairs quickly, your vision blurring as you made your way to your room. The second the door shut behind you, the dam broke. You pressed your back against the wood, sliding down until you were curled up on the floor, your arms wrapping tightly around yourself as silent sobs wracked your body.

Why did you even try? Why did you keep hoping for something that was never going to happen?

Your fingers traced the hem of your sleeve, gripping onto the fabric as if it could ground you, as if it could hold you together when everything else was falling apart. But it couldn't. Nothing could.

You wiped your face roughly, sniffling as you dragged yourself up and onto your bed. Your hands found your pillow, clutching it tightly as you buried your face into it, muffling the sound of your cries. It was pathetic. You were pathetic.

You weren't special in any sort of way like the rest of them, you can admit that. But that doesn't mean they have the right to treat you like you're not even family... Right?

present day, 2 hours prior.

"Alfred," you called while making cookies. "Did you ask... him yet?"

"Yes, I have spoken with your father. He-" Alfred paused for a moment, debating whether he should continue speaking. "He said he was busy and told me we can discuss it later," because the topic was about you. Not because he was busy. Alfred didn't mention that to you though.

"How can I move out then?" You sighed, rubbing your temple despite the flour on your hands. "He knows I'm still a minor, I can't move out without him signing my documents."

You had finished high school two years early with some program. It was to get some acknowledgement in your own house, but you never got that.

Alfred’s expression remained composed, but you saw the way his fingers twitched at your words. He wanted to say something comforting, something that might make you feel less invisible. But there was nothing left to sugarcoat.

“I understand,” he finally said, carefully measuring his words. “However, Master Bruce has made it clear that this conversation is not his priority.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head as you shaped the dough with unnecessary force. “Of course it isn’t. Nothing about me ever is.”

You knew it was immature to have so much hate towards people who you never spoke with, but that exactly was the problem.

They never spoke with you, and you never knew when they would.

a/n: sorry this was so short! was rushing to get it out n barely edited

taglist: @1mawh0re @amber-content @foggyv-oid @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd @ghostdoodlen @luxuryz3 @soriansick

anyone else who asked to be on the taglist isn't tagable.

[stove-top96]

Wicked Game

Ch. 01

Y Batfam x GN Reader

Featuring: Platonic Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Stephane Brown, Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain, Damian Al-Ghul Wayne.

1.9k words

Prologue <- Ch. 01 -> Ch. 02

Class schedule

1st period - Art

2nd Period - Maths

12:00 - 1:00: Lunch

3rd period - Biology

4th period - English

( 5:00 -> Basketball game)

<Y/N>

Cool, I’ll see you tomorrow then.

Tim stared down at his phone, unable to look away. you were just so cute.

He replayed your conversation in his head—every glance, every word, the way you copied his notes—over and over again. The fact that you were his partner? It was perfect. It practically accelerated their plans 10x.

His grip on the phone tightened. Giddy smile creeping on his face. He wanted to keep texting with you, but knew he couldn’t. He needed to be careful.

”What is so important that it is keeping you from your responsibilities?”

Tim rolled his eyes.

Damian. Snarky as ever, standing by the bat computer with the same judgemental expression he always had. He’s been pressing for updates nonstop, and throwing snide remarks whenever possible.Tim wanted to tell the family about the ‘new development’ right away, but Damian’s constant questioning made him hold off.

It’d be easier just to tell everyone on patrol. Dick would be in the city tonight, anyway. He’ll tell the whole family once everyone’s together.

Sure it’s a little selfish, but he’s not keeping it a secret forever, only a few hours.

It takes all his strength to put his phone away and get prepared for patrol. Excitement coarsening through his veins.

Damian Just scoffed and turned away in disgust.

Patrol is expected to go by without a hitch. Most of Gotham’s rogues are locked up in Arkham. The streets will be relatively quiet. Couple of rookies tonight at best. It'll be a breeze tonight.

But Tim wouldn't be able to focus tonight, not fully. His mind would be too preoccupied.

“Red Robin, Nightwing. There’s a bank robbery 3 blocks north”

Oracles' words snapped Tim back to reality. He was thinking about you again.

“On it” Nightwing spoke into the coms. Leaping off the Roof with an effortless grace making his way over. Tim was quick to follow, pushing down all thoughts of you.

“5 individuals, all armed… Be careful” Oracles voice echoed through the coms.

“Nothing we’ve never handled”

watching from the rooftop opposite of Westwood Bank, it was obvious these men were amateurs.

One was fumbling with the alarm system, cursing under his breath. Another was banging on the register, trying to force it open. The other 3 were likely in the back fumbling through the more valuable vaults.

It was very sloppy and clearly unplanned. Easy.

“Whoever takes down the most wins.” Dick smirked. The only way they’d be able to get any type of entertainment out of this was to make a game of it.

“Sure” Tim didn’t really care to win or lose but he’d figure he might as well humour Dick. It’ll make it go by quicker.

Busting through the window of the building, glass shattering in a hundred pieces. The men were slow to react, before they could even raise their guns. Dick and Tim’s batarang sliced through the air, disarming them with a clank.

The noise sent the other three into a panic. Two of them raced in guns blazing. They were clearly rushed, aim painfully sloppy.

Shots fired throughout the building, ricocheting off the walls. Dick was quick to throw one of his escrima sticks, CRACK. He knocked the smaller one out.

The bigger one hesitated for half a second, more than enough time for Tim. One swing of his Boa-staff and he was out.

Tim took a deep breath. Standing tall over the man, pride swelling in his chest. He took the biggest guy in one swing. His mind flickered back to you. What would you think of that? Would you be impressed? Tell him good job?

“TIM LOOK OU—“

Dick’s warning barely registered. Before he could even turn around.

BANG.

A noxious sting rang through his side. The impact sent him crashing to the floor.

The force left him winded. He knew his suit was bullet proof, but the pain was unbearable, a sharp fiery burn in his ribs. It was excruciating.

Dick was fast, he moved in a blur. Tim could hardly focus on him. His vision was beginning to fade. White spots clouding his vision; the pain was just too much.

He needed to close his eyes, he knew he shouldn’t.

but he did anyway.

+++++

BEEP BEEP BEEP

The grating alarm is quick to piss you off. You smashed the snooze button, groaning. You just wanted 5 more minutes of precious Beauty sleep.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Jesus— has it seriously already been five minutes?

With a groan you turn it off you and roll out of bed. You grab your phone to scroll through your socials as you make your way to the kitchen. You have a game today so you gotta actually eat breakfast for once— even if your options are limited.

Scanning the kitchen— seemed like cereal was your only option. You poured a bowl of ‘fruit rounds’. It tasted like cardboard but you had to eat. As you scrolled through TikTok your mind drifted back to yesterday.

Tim Drake

It was weird thinking about it, some random scholarship kid talking with the biggest nepo baby in Gotham. At least his family taught him some manners, he was nice enough to let you copy his notes. Which was more than you could say for most students. Yikes.

Finishing up with breakfast, you went about the rest of your morning routine. Packing up for the game you triple checked you didn’t forget anything. Coach would literally Kill you.

The ride to school was… odd.

Your stomach twisted and you broke into a cold sweat, it was like your first day of school all over again.

You stared out the window, trying to focus on the buzz and chatter in the subway anything to take your mind off this feeling

What would happen if you had a bad game?

The thought had been in your head since you found out about the game last week. But today it was relentless, it was all you could think of.

Bad games meant losing , Losing meant a bad season. Bad season meant.

No scholarship.

your breath hitched. This scholarship was your ticket out. Without it, you’d end up like her, like your mother. Swallowed by Gotham and everything she has to offer.

That wasn’t going to be your future.

Art and Maths go by in a flash. It’s always been hard for you to focus in class on game days.

Like always you make your way to Brandi’s locker, she’ll ease your mind.

“You look like a wreck” She raises an eyebrow, waiting for any sort of explanation “Game day nerves” you sigh feeling a wave of stress wash over you. You want nothing more than to collapse in bed. Pretend none of it’s happening.

She hums, “Ohhhh, forgot that was today” Brandi is the only one who truly gets it. Her GPA drops below 3.7? She's gone. you lose more than you win? you're gone.

She doesn’t press, instead talking about how her day was. It’s what you love about Brandi, she knows what to do.

You two go back and forth telling stupid jokes and gossip about other students.

Until you’re interrupted by a group of girls heading towards your lunch table. One girl breaks away from the group, she’s beautiful— blue eyes, shiny brown hair and flawless skin. The kind of pretty that can be bought. Expensive skin-care, hair products, the whole nine yards.

“Umm your y/n right?” She asks through giggles, the girls behind her are all whispering and laughing to each other. Something tightens in your chest. “Yeah… why?” You ask, voice quieter than you’d like.

“So like… are you like… friends with Tim now?” She hardly gets through her sentence, giggling and looking back at her friends.

“Uhh no?” You respond, with a little more confidence.

She stops laughing, her eyes narrowed “Oh!? So then why were you talking with him?” her voice is sharper.

What is with her? Is this middle school? “We’re assigned partners” you answer flatly.

“So you like weren’t passing notes with him?”

For a second you just blink at her. Why would you be passing notes with Tim Drake? You were just copying his notes.

”No”

“oh okay” She turns on her heels, heading back to her group. The giggles and side eye’s start up again.

You clench your first. This is why you wanted to avoid him— Dumb rumours, unwanted attention.

“What the hell was that about?” Brandi asks, “Why would I know?” you stab at your lunch, taking another bite of your food.

“Since when were you partners with Tim Drake?” She asked.

You froze.

If she didn’t know… How the hell did Tim get your number?

+++++

Tim woke up in his room. Mind still foggy and body aching, from whatever happened on patrol last night.

Fuck, he missed the chance to tell everyone about yesterday.

He groaned and reached for his phone—8:20. Still breakfast time, everyone but Jason should be downstairs.

It took all his strength to make his way downstairs. It was a bad idea to be moving so soon after an injury. But he had to tell them.

His body was screaming at him by the time he made it to the dining room.

“Quite the show Drake.” Damian sneered, not bothering to turn around and face him.“Who knew you were such an easy target?”

Tim rolled his eyes. No one at the table disagreed with Damian's comment. Deep down they all knew he was right.

“What happened out there?” Stephanie raised a brow. Dick and Duke looked up, expecting an actual, reasonable, explanation.

Tim paused, the pain stinging in his ribs.

“…I was thinking about y/n” he answered honestly.

A fork clanked on a plate.

“Enough to get shot?” Damian scoffed, shaking his head. “It’s not like you even have the guts to—“

“we’re assigned partners for a project… we were supposed to work on it today after school” Tim cut him off, hand clenching at his ribs.

Everyone at the table pauses. then everyone’s staring up at him.

Even Bruce.

”We sat beside each other yesterday, they copied my notes… I even texted them last night, before patrol” He tries to sound casual, but pride swells in his chest. He’s the first person in the family to talk with you.

The family see’s through him right away.

”you texted them?” Asks Dick

Tim nods, Damian scoffs.

“And you didn’t think it was necessary to tell us?” Bruce’s voice is calm, his expression neutral. But Tim knows him—he was analyzing everything.

“I was going to tell everyone on patrol” he exclaims, hand clutching his side as he limps to his seat. “it’d be easier to come up with a plan together”

His reasoning seemed sound, but the family knew better.

“You’re not fit to go to school today” Bruce stated coldly, turning back to his meal.

Tim paused “But-“

”you’ll invite them over tomorrow.” His voice is final, he sets his coffee cup down with a quiet clink “I’m sure they’d love to meet the family.”

+++++++++++

Chapter 1! Although the prologue feels more like Chapter 1 than a prologue. I stayed up way too late to finish this. If you want to be added to the taglist just ask me :).

Taglist: @jjsmeowthie @crazycaoticsimp