#none of his kids will admit that they actually just like it when Bruce just picks them up like a kid

[bruciemilf]

Scary boyfriend privilege? No. Scary sons privilege.

Bruce who can’t go anywhere without his newly adopted ward. He follows Bruce like a sunny shadow, grin always in place.

“Dick, can I hold your hand when we cross the street?”

Dick, very sweetly, “No.”

Bruce sighs, but accepts easily. Some guy scoffs at that and asks Bruce if he’ll let his kid just talk to him like that. His kid. His heart hurts in a very good way.

He’s about to say something, but Dick interrupts him, his teeth bared full, “Weren’t you on the news for hitting an old lady with your car?”

Bruce freezing. Dick goes back to his gameboy. They hold hands when they cross the street.

It’s both scary and comforting how little he changes when he’s an adult.

Jason, on the other hand.

Although he refuses to admit it, he does follow Bruce around, too, when his dad actually has to leave the manor. It’s when Alfred says he needs sun.

“You signed a contract, sir.”

Bruce sighing, “I signed it when I was 4. In black crayon. Those don’t count.”

Damian gasped, as if discovering a vile fact, sending an accusing glare Bruce’s way. “They don’t?”

Bruce needs an excuse to haul ass fast and that’s how Jason ends up chaperoning his socially awkward, disaster of a father in his quest to pick up food.

He’s a titanic presence next to Bruce, glaring off whoever stares a little too long or too appreciatively, strong arms crossed and his eyes hard and sharp.

Bruce gently taps his bicep and he hates the way he melts. “Do you want the chicken nuggets with or without apple slices?”

“Without.”

“Jay.”

“FINE.”

Give Jason his “he asked for No pickles” moment. It has to embarrass Bruce enough to jump in traffic, thought.

Damian has his own league and none of them can really compete with it. I think, during parent’s night, he drags Bruce off to proudly showcase his gallery of portraits.

Bruce is very moved when he realizes they’re almost all him.

There’s portraits of Dick, too, and Alfred, and a comically bad one of Tim. “Damian, they’re very beautiful. Thank you.”

“I painted them with the blood of your enemies.”

“…Thank you.”

[brucewaynehater101]

AU for Bats and the JL

When Duke joins the brigade, the Bats are ecstatic to introduce him to the JL. Why? None of the JL actually believe that the Bats are non-meta humans. Are they supposed to believe that Batman can do all that he can because he trains really hard?

The JL is so convinced that the Bats are lying about not having powers that they've included it in New Member initiation. It's considered "rude" and "mean" to call out Bats on their very obvious power usage. In fact, guessing Bat powers is half the fun! They gather all of the non-Bat members to have potluck discussions about it.

Obviously, the Bats are well aware of these meetings. They have their own gatherings where they laugh at the suggestions or come up with strategies to fuck with the JL.

For Bruce, the JL is convinced that the man has control over shadows as well as increased mental compacities. Bruce is way too skilled in disappearing in a room full of people with enhanced senses. Also, he knows facts about almost every subject.

For Dick, that man should not be able to move like he does. He either doesn't have bones or has increased elasticity. Dick's favorite JL memory is crawling down the Watchtower halls with his joints in weird places. Green Arrow's scream is forever recorded and backed up into five different servers.

At first, the JL thought Jason had emotional manipulation capabilities. The hope, courage, and passion he inspired could not have been naturally occurring. Then, after he re-emerged as the Red Hood, obviously his powers are resurrection -_-

Tim? Kid's a cryptic ancient creature. The creepy kid will stare at you without blinking throughout a two hour meeting. Stay away from him and don't piss him off.

Steph nearly laughed herself into a coma when someone tried to convince Hal that Spoiler gets her power from the color purple. Her switching to Robin's costume caused a riot and the JL members frantically scheduled an emergency non-Bat meeting. Should they intervene with Bruce forcing her to wear a costume without aid to her powers? The few months she was Robin were tense for the members.

Damian has an ability to understand martial arts on an unparalleled level. What other non-meta ten year old can utilize a sword so effectively?

Cass is an entity. They don't know what she is, but they fear her all the same.

Barbara is all-knowing. Her ability to collect information and navigate technology can not be naturally occurring.

Now, the JL is faced with the first Bat to admit he has powers. Does that mean none of the others have powers? Is Signal's just too obvious to deny?

[hurtspideyparker]

Tony doesn't tell the Avengers about Peter's secret identity, but Peter starts coming over constantly and chilling around the tower, helping Tony in his workshop or eating dinner with everyone.

Since Tony is weirdly secretive about who the kid is, and the fact that Spider-Man is still a small unknown (presumably adult) hero who isn't on any Avengers radars, they all collectively come to the conclusion that he's Tony's illegitimate child.

Bruce: They do have the same eyes...

Steve: This is an inappropriate conversation to have. If Tony doesn't want to tell us then we shouldn't pry

Natasha: Tony doesn't even like kids. There's no way he would tolerate one if it wasn't because of his guilt complex. I'm surprised there isn't more little Starks running around considering his previous lifestyle

Clint: *cough* drunk slut *cough*. Oh excuse my throat, I meant to say he was a drunk slut

Natasha: Steve they're the exact same. Talk too much, too fast, genius brains that go right over our heads, stubborn, like to cope with humor, same body language. They'll have the same smile lines when Peter grows into them. The only difference is that Peter was raised with manners

Steve: I'm not saying I don't agree, I'm saying it's none of our business. Anyone with basic observational skills can tell they're desperate to fill father and son roles in each others' lives, but Tony's really weird about it, so we should let him keep it private

Clint: We probably make him nervous

Bruce: Because he thinks he's a bad dad?

Natasha: I think he's kinda good at it. Which is extremely unnerving

Steve: Honestly out of all of us I had bets on Bruce having a secret wife and kids hidden somewhere. Tony stepping up to be a father was lower on my list than Nat

Natasha: You have a list?

Bruce: You think I pull?

Steve: That's irrelevant. I think it's nice that they're so close already, but we don't need to press. It might mess up a good thing

Clint: Wait can we go back to this list business. Are these like pragmatic, military leader lists, or are these for pleasure? What other kinds of lists do you have? What about which one of us is most likely to turn on you. Or what you'd turn for. Oh! What about a list of all our weak points based on accessibility and intensity, with contingency plans in case of defection or aliens or brainwashing or alien brainwashing causing defection

Steve:

Natasha:

Bruce:

Steve: This is why Tony won't share his personal life with us.

They last another week before Clint, Natasha, and Bruce team up to steal a strand of Peter's hair and test it for paternity. Steve knows something is up, and follows Clint to Bruce's lab.

Steve: What are you doing...

Natasha: Admit it, you know exactly what we're doing and you want to see the results

Steve: I... well if you already have them there's no point keeping it from me

Clint: Tony Stark is not the daddy!

Tony: Which of my exes have you been talking to?

Clint: AH oh hey Tony didn't see you there

Steve: I'm not apart of this

Tony: Is this about Peter? He told me something plucked his head when he was walking down here. Which of you murder twins was hiding in the rafters

Natasha: Y'know he's not your kid, whoever told you he was lied to you and I hope you get your child support back

Tony: My kid? He's my intern. What funky kool-aid have you all been drinking, that boy is sorting my tool drawer right now. He has slightly better dexterity than Dum-E, it's been quite helpful

Bruce: You have really poor professional boundaries if he's just an intern

Tony: Okay fine. He's actually Spider-Man. I didn't wanna tell anyone cause the Accords were still fishy, but everything should be good now. Anyways, he really wants to train with you guys so you'd have to know eventually

Clint: Who the hell is Spider-Man?

Steve: That guy in Queens who helps bring in peoples' groceries?

Tony: Well, yeah—listen, he's like 14 and he just got his powers. I'm not exactly sending him to fight armed terrorists yet. He'll grow into it, but trust me, there's potential. I'm kind of like his mentor

Steve: You really don't need to do that

Bruce: Yeah we'll all help out from now on

Natasha: Don't take too much responsibility for the boy

Clint: Oh god what have you been teaching him?

Tony: Thanks for the vote of confidence guys. Whatever, now that you all know he'll be hounding you all day for advice anyways. Good luck with that. Friday tell Pete to come down here, the Avengers are gonna train with him

Tony leaves them all, snickering to himself as loud footsteps come crashing down the hallway. If they didn't know any better they'd say several elephants were tripping down the stairs. Then, the doors burst open, Peter's mouth already running a mile-a-minute.

Peter: Really, you guys know, you guys will teach me? Can I use the shield, Ms. Romanoff can you show me how to kick, show me with Mr. Barton, or, or Mr. Rogers. I can take down someone bigger than me, I'm actually really strong. Wanna see? Why are we in Bruce's lab, is that my first lesson! Can I touch this? What are you making here, how long has this been distilling, what about my webs, have you ever seen my webs? I did them myself, but I bet we could make them even better, watch out it's really sticky—

Steve ends up with webs all over his face, several of Bruce's beakers broken from the white spray, one reacting poorly with it and exploding all over Clint and Natasha. Bruce immediately shoves them into the decontamination shower, leaving them as two drenched rats wearing skin-tight combat gear. Natasha is already fuming at the thought of trying to peel it off.

Peter: I'm really sorry, I didn't know it was on ricochet... the splitter webs were just 'cause I panicked

Steve: This is why I told you all to leave it be.

"Noted," they all say in unison.

[mnemosyne-nyx]

✨ Bruce Wayne Headcanons that haunt me but I refuse to elaborate on even if they're utterly wrong ✨

1. Bruce can cook, but only when he's 100% focused. If there is anything going on around him like a feral child or he's going over some case in his head then something's catching fire.

2. He definitely was a theatre kid for the shortest span when a teenager. Have you met this man? Are you telling me he's never engaged in a single drama piece in his life? He was raised by literal-Shakespeare-actor Alfred pennyworth? My man Bruce can ACT. All his personas rely on it. So does his undercover work. I like to think he was in a amateur Shakespeare production one time just to surprise and make Alfred happy.

3. Tying in with the acting - Bruce is a master of disguise. With all the languages he speaks, identity shenanigans, cases that need inside info. Bruce can just morph into another person. But his abilities in disguise also means he can mimic people's mannerisms and accents easily. The idea of Bruce confusing the shit out of Clark by just perfectly emulating his country accent and then pretending nothing happened tickles me very much.

4. This idiot tilts his head ever so slightly like a confused dog when being bamboozled. Only People who know him closely recognise this but it's such a minute movement it's easy to miss. Any confusing story, perplexing stupidity or a little sprinkle of disbelief - boom head tilt. God help you if you get the head tilt and batglare combined. You've said the most ungodly, sinful, idiotic, offensive, seizure-inducing idea known to man.

5. He and Diana 100% gossip in other languages when on the watchtower . Both are polylinguals. It's also a learning space. Diana 100% teaches him Ancient Greek, Latin and forgotten languages while Bruce 100% teaches her alien dialects he's mastered.

6. My guy can sing. Ever since that silly lil' justice league episode I can't get this silly lil' headcanon out my head and it makes my lil' toesies curl. Gotham, though a hell scape, is a melting pot of culture and music. Opera, jazz, blues but also a strong underground Punk and techno scene. You'd be hard pressed to avoid music in Gotham. My guy just learned to sing through osmosis. Only a small handful of people know he can sing, though none have admitted that to Bruce.

7. Since this man is a sponge of knowledge, he just drops some of the most jaw-dropping, disturbing and unprompted facts then refuses to elaborate. Oliver Queen is just enjoying his ham sandwich only for "You know studies about cannibals say that human meat tastes very similar to pork." and Oliver is just !?!?!?!!?. The batfam are watching The Matrix and Bruce suddenly "The codes in this film are actually just Sushi recipes." and everyone does a perfect slow swivel to face this engima of a man.

Thank you for attending my tedtalk :)

[wow-thisismylifeiguess]

meeting ghost-maker pt 2

Jason

Jason sits on his bed whilst Dick paces back and forth. He stops, points at a whiteboard he’d rolled into Jason’s room with a crude drawing of…something that looks like a bug? Jason’s not really sure.

“And that’s why, if we ever see this man, we cannot let him near Bruce!”

If Jason’s being honest, he was kind of zoning out through most of this…presentation?

“Why?”

Dick glares at him.

“I just spent the last 30 minutes telling you why!”

“TLDR. Listen, Dick, it’s been a long day.” Jason’s exhausted and he’s on the verge of falling asleep any moment.

Before Dick can complain any more, there’s a knock on Jason’s door. It’s a familiar rhythm, recognizable. Jason and Dick both know it’s Bruce, and Jason calls out to let him in before Dick can convince him to wait.

“Sorry to interrupt, boys. I was just-“ Bruce stops and looks at Dick’s white board presentation. “Is that Ghost?”

Jason isn’t expecting Bruce to laugh, although he’s not mad about it. His dad doesn’t laugh often, but when he does, it’s always a bright and pretty sound.

“Don’t laugh!” Dick had clearly not been expecting that reaction either, and unlike Jason, he’s a lot less pleased. “I’m warning Jason!”

“About what?”

“The bas- the weirdo who flirts with you whenever he’s in Gotham!” It’s a little funny, heading Dick try and censor himself when Jason’s said and says much worse things than his older brother. But Jason’s less focused on that. Instead, he’s finally actually listening to Dick, and his eyes widen.

“What?”

Bruce covers his face and sighs. “It’s not like that. Dick just had a bad experience w Ghost-Maker and he’s made it his mission in life to make sure he never steps foot in Gotham again.”

Dick makes an error noise. “Nope! Wrong! My life’s mission is to make sure he never gets close to you again. I mean, come on, Bruce. You could do so much better!”

Jason silently contemplates this conversation. And then he asks, “What kinda fuckin name is Ghost-Maker?”

While Bruce sighs again, Dick lectures his brother about how that’s the least of their concerns.

—

When Jason meets Ghost-Maker himself…yup. Dick was right (he’ll never admit that to his face). The man fucking sucks.

“Oh. A new one?”

Ghost-Maker’s got his arm over Bruce’s shoulder, touching him so casually, and it makes Jason want to kick him in the groin. That’s his fucking dad, thank you very much. No one’s allowed to be that touchy w him.

“Ghost, this is-“

“Robin.”

“None of your fucking business.”

Ghost-Maker laughs, and the desire to kick him grows.

“Feisty. He’s more angry than the other one.”

Bruce frowns. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Robin is Robin.”

“Tough shit trying to sell that lie to me, B. And besides, you were introducing him as if we’d never met before, which means we haven’t. Plus, he’s…small. So unless you’re not feeding your underage crime fighting partner, he’s a different kid.”

Jason’s mouth hangs open. He just…he called Bruce B! He can’t do that! Only Dick and him can! That’s their nickname for him!

Bruce catches Jason before he can throw himself at Ghost-Maker. Doesn’t stop the little Robin from trying to claw at the man. Bruce is unfortunately very hard to escape from. Fuck it, Jason will get him one day.

Dick Tim Red Hood Damian Epilogue

[tablestoastandtime]

Legacy and Shadows

Say what you will about large parts of Tim's characterization being a product of the archetype he used to embody in the DC universe, it's kind of fucked up to suddenly become a completely different kind of character without your say so.

Or, Tim and the fact he doesn't get to have a future.

Tim wasn't sure what to make of the way everyone seemed confident that one day Damian would be Batman.

The kid was the only one to say it out loud, for the most part, but like a surprising amount of things that came out of his mouth everyone seemed to mostly take it for truth. And to be fair, when had Damian ever let anyone really stop him from going after something he felt he had a right to? So maybe it was true, if only because he was going to make sure of it. 

It was just. People used to think that about Tim, too. Not that he'd ever said that, ever even wanted it. If anything, Tim had spent as much time as he could reminding people that he wasn't Batman and had no intention of being him. But the shadow of it had lingered, and part of Tim had been bracing for it for years.

After all, Dick wanted to be Batman even less than Tim did, had initially been willing to let the mantle die to avoid it. Dick was Nightwing in a way not everyone ever got to inhabit their titles. Part of what made Dick one of the best of them was how he managed the split; by not letting there be one. Dick was Nightwing was Coach Grayson was whatever bullshit name he'd picked up while playing super spy. He never stopped being himself in any of those roles, for all that he'd put on the appropriate hat to play the crowd. There was a difference between performing and lying, and Dick was born for the lights. 

Batman didn't have much to do with light even at the best of times.

And on the other end of the spectrum, Batman was bad for Jason in a way that honestly caught Tim off guard when he first saw it. Sure none of them had been at their best back then, all alone in their own seas of grief, but Jason had lost whatever stability he'd had for a while there, and was only more recently leveling back out. He'd latched onto the mantle as both connection and insult, a last 'fuck you' to a man he wasn't ready to let go of yet. For Jason the cowl hadn't been about any actual interest in the job that needed doing. And yeah, maybe Tim was a bit biased because if he ever saw Jason in a batsuit again he was liable to do something truly stupid to pay him back for last time. What was worse, being attacked by a symbol of trauma or a symbol of faith?

Tim sure knew that he hadn't liked his end of the stick, at the very least. Maybe he'd feel differently if things hadn't gone the way they had, but he didn't want Jason to be Batman and it was only mostly personal.

Even before all that though, the idea of legacy had still been haunting Tim for longer than he'd wanted to admit. People died, heroes died, Tim knew that better than he knew what school he'd taken second year bio at, but the job always remained. Dick had only been interested in doing part of that job. He'd do the parts he wanted to well, Tim had always believed that, but that still left the rest of the job.

And Tim had kind of figured that would be his responsibility.

He hadn't always been happy about it, had resented the shapes Bruce built into his work even as he'd learned more and more why they'd been necessary to keep the undead freight train of the Bat going. Tim didn't like a lot of what Batman had to be to be effective, but he understood it and he didn't want to see Gotham or the world go without the pillar he represented. If you wanted a job done right, sometimes you had to do it yourself. Tim wouldn't ask anyone else to do something he wasn't willing to do, and if it meant Gotham got to keep its hero then yeah, he'd put on the cowl one day. He'd already tried once.

More than that, Tim was pretty sure Bruce used to see things the same way. Half of his training only made sense if it was to be something that was both more and less than Robin. He'd been preparing Tim for a role that wanted to eat him alive, and for all that Tim had gotten maybe more attached than was strictly healthy to the Robin mantle, it had become a part of him rather than his whole identity. Robin leapt into dark and danger feet first. To be Batman was to live there all the time.

Whether Tim had liked it or not, he'd spent the better part of the last four years half-knowing he'd have to move there one day and he'd lived like it was true. Frustrated, fighting it sometimes and dutifully twisting his edges to better fit others, but always like it was a future he couldn't afford to be unprepared for.

And then Damian came into their lives and Darkseid tried to transtemporally nuke Tim's remaining mental health. There was a paranoid imp that lived in the back of Tim's head that still half-believed that the whole thing had been another elaborate test, except this time if it had been then Tim must have failed because he never did get his life back afterwards. 

Tim put himself and everything he believed into a blender to find the cracks in everyone else's certainty and for all that he'd been right it had never even mattered. The Justice League found out about and went after Bruce independently. They'd only called him after he'd spent months playing into his own worst instincts to get the job done, just to do almost all of the work in front of him.

Maybe he'd done it all wrong. Maybe he'd been doing it wrong for a while.

Even if he hadn't wanted it, he'd been Tim Drake. Robin. The kid who might one day be Batman. And now, by some silent consensus he hadn't been invited to, he wasn't.

It was a relief. It was a deeply haunted house he'd been written out of the will for, it was a black hole that had materialized over his head and swallowed everything he had seen ahead of him.

It was the reality Tim needed to figure out how to live with.

He was doing his best these days, trying to fit the pieces of the person he used to be into the new shape of his life, but he kept cutting himself on the edges where they didn't quite line up. Cut other people sometimes too, even when he tried not to. But when he tried to take space to keep the sharpness to himself, it took his eyes off the movement of the world and when he looked up he had to start all over again to try to put together the puzzle of what he was going to do for the rest of his life.

And through it all, Tim kept turning over the issue of finding a name to use, methodologies to employ, somewhere he could even live, because the ones he used to have didn't really belong to him anymore. Never had, in all fairness.

They'd always been things gifted to him in exchange for dedication and hard work. He'd thought at the time that had meant earning. Now, of course, he knew better.

And now he had to do without them.

Who was Tim Drake if he was never going to be Batman? Who was Tim Drake, as someone who used to be Robin?

He had no idea. Tim just hoped it didn't take the rest of his life to figure it out.

[schrijverr]

Works Alone

When trying to pull the team together, Bruce’s ideas are dismissed, because he works alone. He goes home to his kids to pout about it.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~

Bruce isn’t pouting. He isn’t! He’s not even a little bit miffed, because he doesn’t want the Justice League to succeed anyway. He doesn’t trust them, hell, he’s not even a full time member, he’s only playing along to keep the others in check. So why would he care?

However, attempting to convince himself doesn’t mean it is working or not clear on his face. The second he steps into the Cave, Dick comments: “Someone is pouty. Did anything happen with your new friends, B?”

He sounds a little too jovial about the whole thing for Bruce’s taste, because despite what he’s telling himself, he is pouty.

“Ridiculous. Father would never stoop so low as to pout,” Damian sticks up for him.

Damian had been sparring with Dick when Bruce arrived, but is now taking a break to drink some water. Seeing the two of them work together makes Bruce both feel better and more prissy, so he just grunts.

“He’s totally pouty,” Jason crows, from where he’d been ruffling through Bruce’s equipment. He would gladly give Jason all the stuff he needs, but Jason insists on stealing it, even if he’s stealing it in plain sight, which is more closely to just taking it.

“Take it back,” Damian frowns.

“Nah,” Jason says. “You know how he gets when y’all don’t come by enough. I mean, you shoulda seen him when Dickface first moved out. Man’s a pouter, I dunno what to tell ya.”

“What’s B pouting about now?” Steph asks, falling into the conversation since she’s only just arrived to start getting ready for patrol tonight.

“We don’t know yet, he’s still denying he’s pouting,” Tim calls out, not having looked up from where he’s working on the Batcomputer all throughout. “Though it’s likely something with the League, since he just got back from giving back up.”

Heads turn his way and Dick concernedly frowns: “Are you okay? Did they do something?”

There is a dark, yet gleeful glimmer in Damian’s eyes as he asks: “Do we need to go out there and vanquish these super powered morons, father?”

“No,” Bruce sighs, still a little miffed, though his mood has definitely been improved by his kid’s banter, as well as their worry for him.

“Then what happened, old man?” Jason demands. “Stop that vague bullshit you always do.”

“Oehhh, Jason swore!” Steph immediately chimes in. “I’m telling Alfred.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” Jason whips around to her, pointing his knife at her.

“Knock it off, I wanna hear why B is being pouty,” Tim interrupts them.

“Yes, cease this chatter,” Damian adds, a rare show of agreement with Tim. They’ve all been growing, Bruce thinks proudly.

“So what happened then?” Steph asks, rolling her eyes, though stopping her fight with Jason.

Jason luckily also lets it go for now, so Bruce can answer: “They aren’t working as a team. It’s just a group of skilled individuals now and it’s becoming a problem.”

“You’ve been observing that for a while, B. Why suddenly the long face about it?” Dick asks.

And now the embarrassing part, Bruce thinks as he admits: “John is trying to do something about it now. I offered my help, but he refused, stating that I don’t know how, since I work alone, while he has been in the army.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Then, the whole group bursts out in laughter.

“What?” Jason wheezes, while Dick cackles: “He actually said that? Are you for real? Oh my god.”

“I’m going to loose my shit,” Steph snorts, Tim chuckling in the background.

Even Damian is looking amused, although also slightly judgmental. He disdainfully comments: “They are not very bright and must lack observational skills, father. Are you certain you wish to proceed in sponsoring them?”

“Yes,” Bruce sighs again. He’d already had that conversation with himself. Many times. “There is a lot of potential there too. Which is what makes them dangerous. However, out there is dangerous too. They can protect like an army can. Like we can’t.”

“Tt, we can take on extraterrestrial threats and some villains,” Damian huffs, obviously displeased. Out of all his siblings, he’s been the most vocally against the Justice League.

“The brat has a point,” Jason surprises him by backing him up. “I mean, between us here and those still on the streets or running late, you basically have your own little army right here. Just recruit Wonder Woman and I’m sure we’d have a chance.”

“You just wanna work with Wonder Woman, don’t you?” Dick says, sounding a little smug as he slides up behind Jason to make a kissy face at him.

Jason just pushes his face away as he blushes and exclaims: “Shaddup, Dickhead.”

“Yeah, shut up! That’s the most sensible thing he’s said all his life,” Steph hollers.

“Kids, kids, calm down. We’re not disbanding the Justice League and adopting Wonder Woman,” Bruce interrupts, wondering how his life ends up with him saying sentences that he never thought he would be saying.

“I never said nothin’ ‘bout adopting her,” Jason scowls.

“Cuz you want to kiss her!” Dick sing-songs.

“Isn’t she like a few thousand years old or something?” Tim asks.

“Also not marrying Wonder Woman. Any of you,” Bruce says. “Why don’t we all just stay away from Wonder Woman. And the rest of the Justice League, which will continue to exist and not fall apart because they struggle at teamwork. Maybe John’s idea will work. It’s too early to say.”

All of them are giving him a judgmental look now and Bruce struggles to not react to it. It’s always harder when he agrees with them.

“But Green Lantern’s plan is hinging on esprit de corpse,” Tim says. “And that will never work, because it’s a military mentality and while you’ve been working together, there is no real interdependence outside a few emergencies.”

“Yeah, what Timmy said,” Dick agrees, gesturing towards Tim.

“I loathe to admit it, father, but Drake has a point,” Damian nods and that truly shows that it is a hopeless mission for John.

“We’ll just have to see,” Bruce says, deciding to end the conversation there. “Now get ready for pre-patrol brief. We have a few open cases to assign. Cass and Harper will soon be reporting from their early rounds, so get suited up.”

There are a few groans around him, but his kids grant him the mercy of dropping it. They probably know as he does that this won’t be the last time they discuss it.

Indeed a few days later, Bruce comes walking into the Cave again, trying not to let the thunder cloud above his head show too much. However, he knows his kids notice, some sending him a raised brow or an inquiring look. Bruce is glad that he’s come far enough as a parent that not even Dick or Jason are put off by his bad mood.

Dick is also the one to tentatively ask: “Not a good training session with the Justice League?”

“John has us running drills,” Bruce grunts. “It’s showing us each other’s moves and how to play into each other, but…”

“It’s not turning you into a team?” Dick suggest.

“Yeah,” Bruce says, sighing.

“Esprit de corpse,” Tim sing-songs, walking by with a steaming mug of coffee that he went upstairs to refill, ready to start working on the case he’s in the middle of.

Bruce ignores Tim, knowing he’s right, and pulls the cowl off to card a hand through his hair. “We don’t need to run drills, but we need to do trust exercises, talk with each other, get to know each other better, be- be-”

He doesn’t know how he wants to end that sentence, but Cass does, materializing out of the darkness in her sweats, she says one word: “Family.”

“I thought you didn’t like the Justice League,” Duke asks. Luke is covering his day shift today since the last few days have been busy for Duke, but as a true Bat, he doesn’t really know what taking a break means, so he’s in the Cave training.

“Hn,” Bruce replies, thinking. “I mean, I do like them, I just-”

“He doesn’t trust ‘em,” Jason says. He wasn’t supposed to be at the Cave, but it’s clear why he’s there when Bruce looks his way in surprise. He’s holding a box of files, likely stuff he needs for his organization, Bruce wouldn’t know. They’re at a point where Jason doesn’t kill and Bruce doesn’t ask.

“What? Why?” Duke asks. “You fund them and go on missions with them. Even share intell and use them as backup, despite the fact that there are metas and aliens among them. Why do that if you don’t trust them?”

“’Cause he’s also paranoid,” Jason answers for him. “He’s monitoring ‘em.”

“But also befriending them,” Dick says, defending Bruce. “He just needs to vet them closely first, before he does that.”

“Right, ‘cause he’s paranoid,” Jason says.

Duke looks at Bruce, who sighs: “They’re not wrong. The Justice League has a lot of potential to do good and they’re showing they want to be that goodness. But they also have the potential of mass destruction. We need to be sure they won’t be a threat and that we have the right contingencies, before we let them in.”

“Like I said, paranoid,” Jason repeats.

“But trying,” Dick adds.

“And is stepping in to help them get better teamwork going to backfire?” Duke wonders. “Like are we scared we’re going to teach them how to destroy everything as a team? Is that it?”

“No,” Bruce answers, before the peanut gallery consisting of Dick and Jason can. “I offered help to John, he didn’t want it. I don’t think they’re willing to listen to my opinion on it, since I work alone, so have no expertise.”

Duke snorts loudly at that, then suddenly says: “Wait, you’re serious?”

Bruce grunts as conformation.

“Why?” Duke asks.

“Paranoid,” Jason says, rolling his eyes, before hoisting his box up again, before walking off.

Meanwhile, Bruce actually explains: “I haven’t mentioned you, like I said I would. It’s best if they don’t know we’re connected, nor that Gotham hosts more heroes. Connections like we have could be exploited by them and Superman can do a lot more damage should he so choose than Killer Croc or Bane.”

“But they’re good guys, right?”

“For now,” Dick answers morosely. “I’m not saying I agree with B’s paranoia, I mean, I was doing team ups before him and it worked out fine for me without the layers of paranoid he has. But a lot of things can go wrong, especially when working with people that powerful. I also maintained a semblance of mystique just to be safe.”

“But you can try to tell them this isn’t working, right? They must see that it’s not,” Duke says.

“From what I’ve seen both Hawkgirl and Wonder Woman are warriors like John, so they think the same about this. Superman and Flash are office workers, they’d think of horrid team-building days. While J’onn is used to working together with people who can read minds,” Bruce answers. “Out of all of them, only J’onn might listen.”

Cass nudges him and signs: ‘You are not saying something. There is hiding in your shoulders and a bit of guilt in your jaw.’

“What are you hiding, B,” Dick prods, a little bit of genuine judgment and worry coming through the tease.

“It’s a risk to tell them,” Bruce answers sulkily, knowing it’s a little silly, but unable to stop his brain from providing pop-ups of all the ways it could backfire.

“B,” Dick whines, throwing himself to hang over him. “You can at least try.”

“I will, I will,” Bruce says, placating yet also meaning it. He wants to do right by his kids and they want him to have friends, most of them encouraging him with the Justice League.

And, he does. Tentatively he suggest doing some trust exercises among the drills they’ve been running. As expected he gets weird looks and even a scoff from Wally and a frown from Clark. But he manages to play into John’s ideas brotherhood, which means the others are forced to give it a try.

It’s not perfect, of course it isn’t. They still have to deal with the fact that they never agreed on a strategists or a leader of sorts. They still have to build an organization, a system, a proper way of working as a unit.

However, they are getting somewhere. Some prodding here and there helps and the more it helps, the more others prod.

Though it’s not until years later, when Damian is nearly outgrowing the Robin mantle, that Bruce finally allows them to meet his kids. To let them in on the inner workings of Gotham vigilantism.

Then John will point at him and exclaim: “You son of a bitch, you lied to me! You let me struggle on my own to pull these idiots together.”

And at that point, Bruce will be comfortable enough to ignore everyone’s protests and smirk: “I offered you to help, didn’t I? Too bad I work alone.” Making his kids – though they’re adults at that point – laugh like the day they first heard.

~~

A/N:

I think the League thinking Batman works alone is hilarious, especially if they establish later than the batfam

[shewolf-sinclair]

I HATE when people dumb down Jason Todd “he’s impulsive/irrational/erratic/brash/dumb/the angry robin!”

WRONG

let me break it down for you fools because he’s actually like one of the most nuanced and complex characters to ever bless my presence (and he’s the best ((my fav)) robin argue with the wall) (tldr at the end but please read the post)

Starting out as robin they are ALL orphans. because that’s like bruce’s thing. BUT dick and tim had families before bruce adopted them. Jason did not. HE GREW UP ON THE STREETS. (+10 points for truama✨) which led him to grow up to be independent and resourceful. Bruce literally met him because he was trying to steal the bat mobiles tires with the intent of reverse engineering them to sell to the people of gotham because bullet proof tires in that kinda city would save lives source

As for being brash. Yeah. he is. he lacks people skills because HE GREW UP ON THE STREETS. yet he still knows how to sympathize with people and not be an ass ALL the time. he’s cocky sure but it’s a defensive mechanism after years of being treated like he doesn’t have value/having to prove himself. and damien is worse lets bsffr.

He’s impulsive. (likely adhd) Teenager. next question.

He’s the angriest robin! he only ever wants vengeance! WRONG. dick is angrier! he was so petty he left gotham and got a new identity just as a fuck you to bruce. any anger Jason has is not unmatched or outdone by other robins and he is rightfully angry he’s been dealt a crappy hand in life. he’s jealous of dick because bruce was ALWAYS comparing him and telling heroic stories of dicks feats. it’s hard not to push yourself to be as good as or better than the og and not to crack under said pressure.

He’s dumb! NOPE. he is as smart if not smarter than tim. He is BRILLIANT when he wants to be. (see above: resourceful) if you take titans (cw) as canon (why wouldn’t u its as canon as any other tv show??) he is a GENIUS. he taught himself chemistry so he could invent and mass produce drugs. he had a genius strategy to fuck with the titans; the puzzle of clues for which dick needed scarecrow, kory, gar, and conner to solve. Not to mention him finding doctor light earlier in the season. He leads the outlaws bc he is a natural leader and good at handling the details!!

He’s a villain! OKAY AND? SO WAS HARLEY BUT WE LUV HER !! DAMIEN WAS A TRAINED ASSASAIN! he puts so much effort into helping people (see above: resourceful) HE RISKED/LOST HIS LIFE FOR IT. HE IS FIERCELY LOYAL. even as red hood he obtains a strict moral code; no drugs to kids or by schools, don’t kill innocent uninvolved people(depends on which media you’re looking at). serve karma on a gold platter. unlawful but USUALLY NOT unethical. he also becomes a vigilante (and the JL for a bit) and does so much good! none of them are perfect ALL of the time. and considering the other DC villains, he’s not that evil.

strength?? no problem! he almost beat dick and bruce several times in the comics!! source

not to mention his proficiency for new things (see above: chemistry) his whole time as robin he uses bat tech. but redhood uses guns and knives. he just picked that up and was a skilled marksman immediately. (also truama response after nearly dying to death stroke)

so what hes kinda fucked in the head. aren’t they all? isn’t that… the point? it’s justified after everything he’s been through AND it makes hims a better character, more 3D more realistic and relatable.

also for the sake of this thesis partially disregard the wonderful work of art that is WFA it’s a fixit. for a reason. because the it was broken and needed fixing.

TLDR; you don’t have to like Jason Todd, or think he’s the best Robin, but you have to admit, he is a complex, layered, well written character. And stop mischaracterizing him and dumbing him down to this impulsive, angry, weak kid.

bonus: my Jason playlist

[necrotic-nephilim]

For the ask game

Au where dick tells the titans about him and bruce when he's 18 but it's clear to everyone in the room that they've been together for a while at this point, how do think they'd react? if dick told them to keep it secret do you think they would?

for the ask game!

ooh this is SO fun. you know i love realistic reactions to complicated relationships, especially when it comes to BruDick.

i think Dick telling the Titans first serves twofold. first, he's telling people he considers family something he knows is important. and secondly, it's a sort of field test. seeing how they react will reflect on how the hero community at large will react. because now that Dick is 18, Bruce is getting more and more bold with public affection/possessiveness and people are going to notice. Dick tries to tell them casually. he drops it into conversation as if he's mentioning going on a date with a normal person his age, but inside he's panicking, waiting for a big reaction. and he doesn't really *get* one. there are shared looks, but really, they're going off of Dick's lead. if he doesn't make a big deal about it, neither will they, since they knew already. which throws Dick. the one thing Dick inherited from Bruce is his ability to keep a secret, so he's a little thrown off-kilter by the idea that they all already knew. it makes for an awkward conversation. Dick knows how this looks, even if he's in some level of denial about the whole thing actually being what it looks like, so he's ready to be on the defensive with a bunch of rehearsed arguments in his head and so to realize everyone knew already kills a lot of those arguments.

on a personal level, reactions would vary. for some like Donna or Garth or Kory, they're not entirely used to human culture and what the boundaries of accepted human relationships are. they can tell it seems unhealthy, Batman is controlling of Dick. but maybe he's just protective, so they're not sure. and i think all of the Titans notice at different times. they don't talk to each other about it because for a while, they don't know if they others know and are defaulting to keeping Dick's secret. Dick telling them would be the first time anyone's ever said it out loud, even if a few of them have shared knowing looks. on the side of the more human reactions like Wally and Roy, i think it'd be incredibly negative. Roy's life runs pretty similar to Dick's, and he couldn't *imagine* Oliver behaving that way toward him. Oliver has always been vocal to Roy about the boundaries of their relationship and how even if he's Speedy, Roy is still a kid and Oliver wants him to understand that in how he navigates social situations. Roy's always been huffy about this, feeling like it infantilizes him, but now, seeing Bruce and Dick, it clicks for Roy, what Oliver meant. i think if anyone says something, it's most likely to be Roy or Wally. Wally trusts Barry with a *lot* and will go to him about almost anything if he needs to clear his head. so it'd be hard for both of them to not say something.

when Dick finally admits to it, he does add that he doesn't want them to say anything, because the relationship is still new. he's lying out of his ass about that part and they all know it. but now that he's admitted to it, it's harder for them all not to tell people. the Titans always trust each other first, and none of them want to betray that trust, especially to Dick. i think for maybe a few days they'd keep the calm, tense atmosphere. no one says anything but everyone feels awkward about it. it'd probably be Wally who breaks first, blurting out a flurry of questions. Dick is prepared for this part. he has all his answers ready, but when he tries to start, they stop him and point out that they know it's been going on for a while. and Dick just. awkwardly deflates and is forced to be more open. he still dances around questions like how long it's *really* been going on, because the truth is, he has no clean answer. it just sort of happened gradually. they ask if Dick feels safe, if he's happy, etc. and Dick is defensive, almost too defensive with all his answers. the truth is he *is* happy with Bruce, but admitting it out loud means looking at some of the uglier sides of the relationship. he knows how possessive and overbearing Bruce can be and how that looks to an outsider. he tries to convince them it's just how Bruce is and all relationships will have their flaws, but obviously, this is different. and he knows his friends are worried about him, which is the worst part. it's all just coming from a place of love. the conversation is long, with a lot of confusion, but eventually they reach some kind of conclusion and hug it out.

the real aftermath of Dick admitting it is the Titans becoming hypervigilante of Bruce. all of them keep a close eye on him whenever they're around, do their best to sus out his feelings and intentions. i think some of the more bold members like Donna would even give Bruce something akin to a shovel talk, which Bruce would not take seriously one bit. and that's where they catch him up, because if Bruce doesn't take the Titans seriously, seeing them just as teen sidekicks, then he has to admit the same applies to Dick. so Bruce is forced to take them and their care for Dick a little more seriously. he has to have real conversations with them and accept that they're Dick's family as much as he is. because Bruce has always denied just how important the Titans are to Dick and tried to separate Dick from them. this is the first time he's acknowledging them as important members of Dick's life. it's uncomfortable for everyone involved. none of Bruce's answers satisfy the Titans, because he dances around the questions even more than Dick does. the Titans want to believe and trust Dick about this relationship, because they know at the end of the day there's nothing they can do to stop it, but it makes them uneasy and definitely untrustworthy of Bruce. even when Bruce notices this gaggle of teenagers keeping a close eye on him, there's not much he can do about it because he knows Dick will be upset if Bruce retaliates against his friends. it makes for an awkward stalemate.

i think in the end, the Titans end up telling their respective mentors. even knowing it'll betray Dick, they have to talk to real adults about this. of course most of the League members are livid. none of them would dream about viewing their own proteges in that way. long talks are had with Bruce and i do think someone like Diana or Oliver would try to remove Dick from Bruce's care altogether. but Dick *is* an adult and technically, they have no dirt proving anything illegal is going on. everyone just sort of has to accept it for what it is. and the betrayal of the Titans telling would drive a wedge between them and Dick. which of course, Bruce would spin to his advantage because he always has to find a way to win. he comforts Dick, and sows seeds in Dick's head about maybe distancing himself from the Titans, for a bit. just to let it all cool off so he can approach them with a level head. it ends up bringing Dick and Bruce closer. Dick would reconcile with the Titans eventually, but the wedge will always be there and they all know it. no one can get between Dick and Bruce so telling adults didn't even really do anything. the only real winner at the end of the day, is Bruce.

[tickletastic]

Can I ask for headcanons about the Robins?

Yes, absolutely! I have some batfam headcanons here (and probably a bunch more in my tags), so these ones will focus on them as robins

Dick

Such a little shit, but almost impossible to control because of his unlimited energy

while, as nightwing, he's used to being the eldest, when he was robin, he was almost always the youngest around, so he suffered a lot of the younger sibling torture at the hands of the titans and yj

while bruce wanted dick to be more serious, especially when he's leading a team, i think he was actually terrible at it until jason came around, i don't think this boy could deliver a single command to the titans without bursting out laughing

i think the older people in the titans would probably tickle him when he tried to lean too hard into the whole serious bat thing, to remind him that he's just a kid, and being a twelve year old is more important for his development than fighting crime

while it embarrasses dick immensely to outright admit he likes being tickled, the titans, bruce, and alfred all found out pretty damn fast

dick would get a bit too hyper and end up bouncing (literally) off the walls, hanging from wayne manor chandeliers, and bruce would have to find a way to wrangle him down, eventually he realized that tickling was a great way to drain all of dick's energy (at least for an hour or two)

at some point, while dick would still pretend to put up a fight when peeled down from the ceiling, he would let bruce catch him much easier because he'd be excited for the tickles

i think he's probably ask bruce for soft tummy tickles or back tickles to fall asleep sometimes

Jason

when jason first moved to the manor, he was prickly, to say the absolute least, and it probably took a while for him to warm up to touch given that he grew up in crime alley

the first time that jason doesnt flinch away when dick, alfred, or bruce go to touch him, they consider it a huge win, but still, none of them want to push it too far out of fear that jason will become all skittish again

i think they probably find out that jason is ticklish after patrol, when he's getting checked for injuries,, alfred was probably just trying to check his ribs and jason started to giggle uncontrollably, and suddenly everyone was trying to hide that their attention was on jason being adorable

when jason started leaning into touches is when everyone took it as a sign that he completely trusted them, because jason is not one to tell anybody what he wants, even if he doesn't have to say it out loud

after that, dick took it as free reign to tease jason all he wanted

jason was insanely ticklish when he was robin, but even if he was completely breathless with tears streaming down his face, he would never admit that he was.... but dick still tried to get him to admit it every time

bruce wasnt sure if jason would be anything like dick, but he did try the soft tummy and back tickles on jason to see if he found it relaxing, unfortunately for jason, he found even that to be unbearably ticklish, though he did love bruce's affection

Damian

i always forget that he's literally just a kid, like he's literally pocket sized

not incredibly ticklish like jason was when he was robin, but ticklish enough everywhere that he will at least giggle steadily, even if the spot isnt that bad

he would kill anyone who even attempted to say it out loud but he adores being tickled by his family

i think he loves all affection from his family in general, especially dick and bruce, but he's going to argue, insult, and fight his way through it no matter the form, including tickling

damian is 100% the type to dish out black eyes and bloody noses while he's being tickled

he does actually like back and neck tickles from dick when he's going to sleep, but he cant help himself from laughing, even though he likes how it feels

gets tickled most often by dick and bruce, but every once in a while he'll get thrown over jason's shoulder and tickled until he's actually saying "please stop" instead of just demanding that jason stop

Tim

his ticklishness is pretty similar to dick's, though he can't handle even a second of anticipation, both as robin and as red robin

this is something dick knew very well, and he would use it against tim at any opportunity, just hovering his fingers an inch away from a ticklish spot and watching tim giggle hysterically as if he really is getting tickled

he finds it to be a lot more flustering than his brothers do, and he can't handle teasing at all

after jason's death, dick made sure that tim knew how much he appreciated and loved him, which included A LOT of affection (enough to make up for two brothers)

as a result, i think dick probably found out that tim was ticklish first, by manoeuvring him while they were cuddling or trying to give him a massage

when tim was robin, he would laugh so hard it would even surprise himself, he wouldn't be able to make out a single word while getting tickled silly by dick or bruce

weirdly, i think tim was probably the best at hiding it too,,, i think, while he can't handle anticipation, if someone accidentally brushed him, or if he knew he was going to get checked for injuries, he'd be able to school his features pretty well for a little bit

i think, as robin, he hated the earpieces because the vibrations when someone was talking over the comms tickled too much, though he eventually grew out of it (aka replaced just his comms system with one that wouldn't vibrate so he wouldn't giggle out loud on patrol)

[maccreadysbaby]

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

its about to get real up in here y’all (also this chapter is HUGE I apologize)

part twenty-one

❝ MURDER CENTRAL ❞

TUESDAY — AUGUST 11 — 6:57AM

BENTLEY WOKE UP AROUND SEVEN THE NEXT MORNING, CURLED UP AT THE END OF TIM’S BED LIKE A CAT. 

The night before was nothing more than a teary, emotional blur. Tim’s anxiety attack had lasted for an entire hour and twenty-seven minutes. An hour and twenty-seven minutes until he could breathe easily again, until his mind came back to him and he was left drained and empty.

Bentley sat in the floor with him for the whole hour and twenty-seven minutes, being almost impressively unhelpful. He was sure his own crying wasn’t helping to ease Tim’s anxiety — if anything, he’d probably just made it worse. But he stayed. And that counted for something, right?

Tim was now curled up on top of his comforter, drowning in a red hoodie Bentley was sure he used to fit in a little better, dead asleep with the hood tugged tight over his head. No words had been exchanged — not after the attack, not when they wordlessly took up residence in the bed and sat awake until they couldn’t. Not that Bentley knew what to say anyhow. All of the calming tactics Tim had taught him didn’t seem to work on him at all. The breathing exercises, the gentle conversation, the grounding touch — none of it worked. The only thing that seemed to work for Tim was waiting.

Bentley wondered, silently, if that changed with each attack, or depended on the person having it.

Bentley would be lying if he said he didn’t feel like a failure for not noticing. Now that he knew, he couldn’t seem to not notice. The way Tim’s clothes hung looser, how he was the slightest bit bonier than usual, that he was rejecting what was brought to him so he could focus on work instead. Bentley had known for a while now that patrol was getting bad again, that villains were popping up, that Tim was working extra extra hard to keep up. But he just hadn’t noticed.

No one seemed to. The conversation between Dick and Tim sounded like the first time they’d spoke about it this time around — which had to hurt. He’d been working too hard for weeks at that point. And still; no one noticed, no one said a word until Dick did it for them. And Bentley didn’t think Dick was the one Tim was hoping would notice.

Bentley had to admit, hearing Tim say Bruce hadn’t spoken to him in a couple of days thanks to him sucked. It was just another reminder that, no matter how badly he wished otherwise, Bruce wasn’t his father, and the Wayne’s weren’t his family. All he was doing was stealing Bruce away from his actual children. (All adopted, but still actual. More actual than Bentley.)

What did that make him? A burden? A theif? An unnecessary addition?

He turned to look at Tim. Asleep, he was much more peaceful than awake, although he still looked… Bentley didn’t know. A little troubled. His face was shadowed by his hood, his black hair hanging down near his eyes, his skin only the slightest bit paler than normal. He was curled up impossibly small for a nineteen-year-old. His knees were tucked up close to his chest, his arms coiled around his body so tightly it was like they were the only things keeping him together. He looked younger. Too young.

How old was Tim when he started living with Bruce? Thirteen? Fourteen? That would mean he’d been in the Manor for five or six years. Five or six years. And a kid who had been there for one was stealing his dad away from him. After all, Tim had been adopted. They all had — Tim and Jason and Dick, they were all Bruce’s sons. Damian was Bruce’s biological son. And Bentley was just… some kid that lived with them. He wasn’t adopted, he wasn’t Bruce’s son, he was just… Bentley Whittaker.

It boiled down to this: Tim deserved Bruce’s attention. Bentley did not. Tim was Bruce’s son. Bentley was not. So Bentley decided he just needed to get out of the way.

With a soft sigh, he carefully pushed himself out of Tim’s bed. Bentley would never forget sleeping in it after his first anxiety attack, with Tim right next to him. Maybe it at least helped Tim a little to see Bentley right there after his.

He felt pretty much like a dumpster fire for leaving Tim’s room while the poor boy was still sleeping, but it wasn’t actually that big of a deal — because as soon as Bentley stepped into the hallway, he ran straight into Bruce face-first, who’d been reaching for the door handle.

“Bentley,” He said softly, with quiet surprise. “I didn’t expect for you to still be in there.”

Bruce looked tired. Bentley wasn’t sure what had happened on patrol, or if it was tougher when Tim wasn’t on it. He had that reassuring smile that never ever seemed to leave his face, and his grayish eyes were… not dull, but not normal, either. Everyone in the Manor was suffering from something or another, all multiplied by the Secret Keeper’s appearance. 

Maybe if Bentley and Asten and Nico could really destroy her, it would help them. Tim wouldn’t have to do all the work, and patrol wouldn’t be so bad, and their minds wouldn’t be open playgrounds for her to thrive in.

Maybe he had it all wrong, when he decided he needed to be the Puppeteer again. That approach worked for Asten, but Bentley had already proved he wasn’t good at keeping up that act around the Wayne’s — one thing happened (an anxiety attack, for example) and it just fell apart again, leaving him exposed and emotional and dumb. Maybe he didn’t need to destroy the Secret Keeper just to prove his worth. He needed to destroy her… both to prove himself worthy, and to help them.

Bentley gazed up at Bruce, blinking a couple of times. Then he looked toward Tim’s door. “Tim, he… he had…”

“I know,” Came Bruce’s reply, and one of his hands landed on Bentley’s shoulder. “You did good.”

Bentley breathed in. “I didn’t do anything good. I cried.”

“But you stayed with him,” Bruce replied, smiling reassuringly, squeezing Bentley’s shoulder. “Sometimes Tim just has to wait them out. Staying counts far more than you think.”

Bentley shook his head lightly, glancing down the hall. “I tried to go get Dick, but he didn’t want me to leave…”

“You did the right thing, Bentley,”

Did he? Did he do the right thing? He was sure not. Even right now, he was doing the wrong thing, holding Bruce up in the hall when he’d very obviously been trying to go into Tim’s room. Bentley moved out of the way, out from under Bruce’s hand like it burned, toward his bedroom door. “I should get ready for school.”

Bruce said something, but Bentley didn’t really hear it. All he could hear were the repetitive chimes of not my dad, not my dad, not my dad, that seemed to play over and over in his head.

Bruce wasn’t his, and he wasn’t Bruce’s.

Bentley’s only real family was in prison for trying to kill him.

He closed his door and silently got ready — showering, putting on his uniform, the works. He needed to catch the Secret Keeper now more than ever. For himself, for Tim, for Bruce, for Dick and Damian and Jason and Cass and Steph and Duke and everyone.

It was suddenly seven-twenty-three, Bentley was trying so hard to tie his tie, and his phone dinged with a text from Asten in the group chat.

I got burners, it said.

Bentley stared at the message for a solid ten seconds before he realized he had no idea what burners were.

Nico’s reply came in an instant.

Where did you get burners??? PLURAL??????

Asten replied with: A good supervillain-hunter never tells his secrets.

Bentley had to look up what a burner was — it turned out, it was a phone that you threw away when you were done that was difficult to trace. Usually used by people committing crimes. So, Nico’s question stood: where had Asten gotten burners? And what was he going to use them for? Tricking the police?

Another text from Asten came: I know how to check if dr Keene is guilty.

Bentley scrunched his face up, grabbing his phone off the bathroom counter and typing: how?

Asten’s reply was: get to school early, we’re stealing his phone.

Bentley blinked to himself as messages came flooding in. Nico sent three separate texts, each with a single word: NO. WE’RE. NOT.

Everyone keeps secrets on their phone! Was Asten’s reply.

Bentley put his phone down on the counter and kept tying his tie. 

He could probably convince Duke to take him to school a little earlier than normal.

Another text came through from Asten.

Bring the computer.

—

It was pretty easy, actually, to get to school early — Duke was very open to taking Bentley early so he could finish some science homework (that didn’t exist) with Asten and Nico.

Lying to him did hurt just a little… especially because Duke seemed so genuinely happy to do it for him. But he needed to, he convinced himself. To help them all.

They arrived to the Academy about thirty minutes early, half past eight, and Bentley met Asten and Nico in the library.

There weren’t many kids in the halls yet, apart from a few older ones who were studying or working before their first class. The whole school seemed quiet and empty. Bentley wasn’t sure where Damian and Duke went when they split off in the lobby, but he assumed it wasn’t much of his business, anyway. Instead, he made for the high-top table with one extra chair buried between bookshelves that Asten’s and Nico were sitting at. They were the only students in the library — the librarian didn’t even seem to be there yet.

“‘Sup, Whittaker,” Asten called as soon as Bentley turned into the aisle of bookshelves. His blue-tipped black hair stuck out like a sore thumb between the shelves, though Bentley was pretty sure it would stick out anywhere you put him. “I heard it’s national steal your teacher’s phone day.”

Nico slapped him in the arm from across the table, looking rather miffed. “Say it louder, the Russians didn’t hear you!”

“Relax, there’s no one in here to hear,” Asten muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Come look. Did you bring the computer?”

The question was directed toward Bentley, who walked up to the table. He pulled out the empty chair and climbed up into it, not bothering to take his backpack off. “Yeah.”

Asten had his black backpack in his lap, and he dug around in it, pulling a ziplock bag out just far enough for Bentley to see what was inside. It was old-looking phones. Like, six of them. Burners, he realized.

“Are those the-“

“Yeah,” Asten cut him off with a nod. “Nico and I are going to go to the Harbor after school. That’s where we’re gonna make the calls so we can throw them in the water after,” He explained softly, shoving the bag back in his backpack. “You should come — I’ll need your voice. It shouldn’t take that long.”

Usually, any statements of you should come would go completely ignored by Bentley. He wasn’t much of a go here go there kind of person, but spending time with his friends  seemed… kind of brilliant. He’d be with them for the plan, out of the house so Bruce could pay attention to his actual kids, and out of the way. At least for a while.

“I’ll ask,” Was his reply. 

“Tell him it’s a… science project or something,” Asten suggested, flicking a hand toward Bentley. “And that we’re going to Nico’s house, not frolicking around Gotham.”

There it was again — the little twisty feeling he got in his gut at the thought of lying to Bruce.   Bruce didn’t deserve to be lied to. But, if he knew what they were doing, there was no way he’d allow it; so Bentley had to lie. There was no other way.

Before Bentley could even think about pulling his phone out, Asten exclaimed: “There he is!”

The trio all turned toward the sliver of library windows they could see from between the shelves, gazing out into the hall in the same direction Asten was. They were just quick enough to catch a glimpse of Dr. Keene, in his blue button up and slacks per usual, heading away from his classroom.

“Come on!” Asten was already out of his chair and shuffling between the bookshelves, zipping his bag up as he crept toward the front of the library.

“We’re gonna get arrested,” Nico muttered, sending a mildly terrified glance to Bentley before they both climbed out of their chairs. Bentley fought the buzzy anxious feeling that surfaced beneath his skin when he realized that, yes, they were seriously on their way to steal Dr. Keene’s phone. God, if Bruce found out about this, Bentley was absolutely done for.

Asten looked back at them with a snicker, his green irises shining with amusement as they stopped near the door of the library. “Stop looking so terrified, you guys. Looking terrified makes you look guilty.”

“We are guilty!” Nico shot back, crossing his arms.

“Say it louder, the Russians didn’t hear you,” Asten mocked with a sly little grin. “Seriously, just play it cool. We’re looking for Dr. Keene for… tutoring or something.”

Nico huffed. “Yeah, because they’ll believe that.”

“Have a little faith, dude. I once convinced a cook I was the Mayor’s nephew and got free food from a batburger for an entire week,” Asten explained, pointing over at Nico. “We’ll be fine. Come on, before he comes back.”

Bentley sent a glance Nico’s way as Asten trailed into the hall. They followed him wordlessly. The empty and silent halls still weirded Bentley out just a bit. He could see all the way down the dim hall, back into the foyer with the staircases. There wasn’t anyone there, right now, but it definitely seemed like something to watch.

The three of them jogged down the empty halls until they made it to Dr. Keene’s classroom door. It was closed, and according to Bentley’s phone, class started in twenty-four minutes.

Asten turned the handle and shoved the door, and much to all of their surprise (and Nico’s terror) it swung open.

“Bentley, I need that computer. Nico, stand at the door and watch for him to come back,” Asten ordered. The classroom, too, looked strange and empty when they filed in. All the desks were vacant, the skeleton in the corner without his signature bowler hat. The blackboard hadn’t been written on yet.

Nico closed the door and stood entirely too close to the little window that was cut into it, staring into the hall like his life depended on it. Asten immediately went for Dr. Keene’s desk in the corner.

Bentley followed along behind him, laying his backpack on their teacher’s desk and unzipping it carefully. Tim’s old laptop was sitting right in the center of all his books, and he gently pulled it out, laying it next to Dr. Keene’s big computer monitor so it was facing Asten.

The Brazilian was digging through drawers and cabinets so quickly Bentley wasn’t sure if he would actually see the phone or not. “Here — can you find the wires I put in here?”

Asten shrugged his backpack off and tossed it lazily in Bentley’s direction. He managed to catch it by a single strap and, with a final glance to Asten, unzipped it.

There wasn’t much in there — a couple spiral notebooks, his red pen, the ziplock of burners and a bundle of several multicolored wires that looked like… phone chargers?

“These?” Bentley questioned, pulling out the wad of purple, black, and white. Asten glanced at him briefly in the midst of all his shuffling. 

“Perfect. Just lay them on the desk,”

Nico made a high-pitched noise from across the room, and both Bentley and Asten glanced over at him. The blonde was scurrying away from the door like he’d seen a ghost.

“Jesse’s coming! Jesse!” He squeaked.

Asten opened his mouth, but only a faint sound came before the classroom door flew open, and Jesse Todryk stepped inside.

His blonde hair was a mess, and his uniform was wrinkled and maybe even faintly stained, if Bentley was seeing right. He didn’t have his dumb earrings in, and he didn’t look near as intimidating as usual.

Everyone stared. No one said a word. Jesse Todryk’s vomit-green irises flicked from one boy to the next, meeting brown, emerald green, and blue. His eyes drifted to Asten’s hands that were buried in Dr. Keene’s desk, and he got a sick look on his face.

“You three are getting so suspended for this,” He said with a twisted sort of giddiness about him, turning to duck back into the hallway.

A voice came, loud and clear, bouncing through the quiet room: “No!”

Bentley hardly realized that it was his.

Jesse turned on his heel. “What was that, Wayne?”

The redhead froze, resisting the urge to shrink with all the eyes that were laser focused on him. He glanced to Asten and Nico, who were staring back blankly, offering no help.

Control the conversation.

“We’re trying to figure out what happened to your sister,” Bentley explained, taking a step forward, toward Jesse, keeping his words laced with a little venom for good measure. “We already have leads that connect her and Dr. Keene to the Secret Keeper, and we were about to be even closer to finding out what happened before you decided you needed to be a little snitch to make yourself feel better.”

Jesse creased his brow, glancing around the classroom before he pulled the door shut with a quiet click. Bentley watched the way his stone expression faltered in the slightest, the shine at the back of his irises spinning into something different. “You’re seriously playing detective? You three?”

“Wow. I know you said he was slow, but this is just ridiculous,” Bentley muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and glancing back at Asten.

Jesse glanced between them, exasperated. Asten had a look on his face like he was trying very hard not to smile.

“Very funny, Wayne,” Jesse spat. However, he didn’t leave the room, nor did he stalk forward to punch Bentley in the face. He just sort of stood there.

“What are you waiting on? For us to invite you into our motley crew? Our merry band? Because it ain’t happening,” Asten hissed from across the room.

Jesse made a few faces, different emotions passing across his features. “The cops are being little pansies about the Secret Keeper. Too afraid to do their jobs,” He muttered, crossing his arms. His expression faltered again, to something like… sadness? “Do you guys seriously believe you can find her?”

Did Bentley actually think they could do it?

“Yes,” Asten answered for him, glaring at Jesse with a vengeance burning in his eyes. “And if you go tattling on us, we’ll get suspended, probably questioned by the cops, and we won’t tell them anything we know. Just so you’ll have to live the rest of your life knowing that you were the reason Mandy was never found.”

Bentley breathed in. Were they playing up the amount of knowledge they had? Oh, definitely. The police probably did know what they knew. And would Jesse telling on them really assure Mandy was never found? Absolutely not. But they were using his feelings for leverage, just like Bentley’s father taught him.

Asten was a natural at this Puppeteer stuff.

Jesse sighed heavily, his expression changing subtly, like he was conflicted. “Mm… fine. Fine, I won’t tell anyone. Just because it wouldn’t hurt to have someone else looking.”

Use the leverage to get what you want.

“And if you ever touch any of us again, we’ll call off the search and keep everything we know to ourselves,” Bentley added. Jesse scowled at him, long and hard, and then groaned.

“Don't push your luck,”

“I’m not the one whose sister is missing,” Bentley shrugged. “I think your luck is the one that shouldn’t be pushed. Do you want us to look for her or not?”

Jesse scowled deeply again. “Fine. You win. But I swear; if anyone hears that I spoke to you three, I’ll knock your teeth out,” He huffed. He made a face like he’d just eaten something gross, opened the door, and disappearing into the hallway without another word. The door clicked behind him.

No one said anything for a solid five seconds. And then:

“Geez, where’s that Bentley been the whole time? I like him!” Asten muttered with a snicker, shaking his head as he continued to dig through the desk drawers. “Please be brutal more often. It’s so refreshing.”

“Should I be offended by that?”  Nico questioned, drifting back toward the door. Asten shrugged.

“If you really want to,”

Bentley said nothing. That Bentley wasn’t so much Bentley as it was pre-programmed Puppeteer. But he guessed, if it worked, it worked. 

“Finally,” Asten chimed as he pulled a small blue device out of the top desk drawer, sliding it closed with a thump. Bentley watched in quiet fascination as he looked through the wires, plugging them to the phone until he found one that went in the charging hole just perfectly. He plugged the other end into Tim’s computer, opened it, and started typing around.

Bentley stepped forward. “What’re you doing?”

“Password reset software. It’s the only way we can get into the thing,” He replied, like it were obvious.

Bentley said nothing. Sometimes, it was uncanny how much Asten reminded him of Tim.

It took only two or three minutes before the phone opened up to the home-screen on command.

“This is so illegal,” Nico muttered from the door, his eyes focused so hard on the hallway Bentley thought they might’ve been starting to water. (Or maybe he was just crying, which was a possibility.) 

“Nothings illegal if you don’t get caught!” Asten replied, grabbing the phone off the desk and moving toward Bentley. “Let’s see what we can find.”

Bentley glanced over at the screen, eyes flicking between all the apps and folders on the home page. Asten’s first instinct was to click on the text messages.

There were several names Bentley didn’t recognize, probably Dr. Keene’s friends and family. Asten scrolled quickly, until he stopped on a name Bentley did recognize. 

Amanda Todryk.

Asten made a face. “You should look away. Just in case.”

Bentley wasn’t sure why he needed to look away, but he did. A few seconds of quiet passed before Asten said: “Okay. You’re good.”

Bentley turned back toward the phone, and the text messages between Dr. Keene and Mandy were displayed on the screen. Asten scrolled a bit, revealing that it was mostly just a repetitive string of tutoring today? From Mandy and yes from Dr. Keene. Those two texts repeated nearly every day, including Sunday, the day Many went missing. There were no messages after that.

Asten left that message thread and scrolled to the bottom, humming when he didn’t recognize any more names.

Bentley did. 

The very last name on the text list. Asten left the app and moved on quickly, so Bentley wasn’t totally sure, but he could’ve swore he saw the name… John Whittaker.

“Look away again. I’m going into his photos,” Asten ordered. Bentley did as he was told (but why did he have to look away every time?) until Asten said it was fine for him to look back. The photos app was closed, and Asten was scrolling through his apps. Twitter. Note Taking Pro. Amazon. Rentals for Royals.

Asten stopped on that one. Bentley wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but it looked rather harmless, really — the symbol was a swirly little crown with a bunch of colors.

“What’s that?” Bentley questioned. Asten clicked on it, and the app began to load.

“You can let people rent out properties from you on here. Like… letting someone else use your house like a hotel,” Asten explained. Bentley scrunched up his nose. There were enough people in Wayne Manor already.

The app opened, revealing a photograph of a beautifully manicured cabin in pine woods that looked like something out of a mystical storybook. There was a title below the picture that read: Pinewood Cabin.

Asten hummed and scrolled down. “Looks like Dr. Keene owns a sick Air B&B in the woods somewhere.”

Bentley watched as Asten tapped on things so quickly he couldn’t even focus on what they were, bringing up something that looked like a very colorful calendar. Each day on the calendar coincided with a color-coded name that was listed off to the side. Bentley guessed that calendar told Dr. Keene who was scheduled to stay.

Sunday was green, and the names Amanda Todryk and Lanse Handal were in green off to the side.

“Oh my God!” Asten started.

“What? What? What?!” Nico shouted across the room with such urgency a passerby might’ve thought Asten was dying. 

“Mandy rented out Dr. Keene’s Air B&B with Lanse Handal!”

Apparently that name meant something. Bentley did recognized it, only a little, but he didn’t know why.

“What? The senior from the Soccer team that went missing?! They probably rented it before he disappeared!”

Went missing. That must’ve been why Bentkey recognized the name — it would’ve been on Asten’s research list.

“I bet they were planning on having a one night-“

“No!”

“-stand.”

“Shut up!” Nico squeaked, glaring daggers across the room at Asten. Well, Nico was a bit too soft for it to be considered daggers — maybe blunt pencils.

“What’s a one night stand?”

Nico and Asten’s eyes both came to rest on Bentley, Nico’s filled with terror, Asten’s with surprise and maybe faint amusement. Bentley glanced between them as they seemed to blink, blankly, offering no explanation whatsoever.

“It… uh…” Asten started, glancing over at Nico, who shook his head with the most serious I’ll kill you look Bentley had ever seen from him. They pair seemed to have an unspoken argument, which lasted for a solid ten seconds before Asten coughed awkwardly.

“You should ask Bruce. And, uh… don’t look it up,” He finalized, stiffly patting Bentley on the shoulder a couple times. “Now, back to this. I think we need to take a trip to the cabin. An undocumented trip.”

Nico scrunched his face up. “Why?”

“Because Mandy was going to stay there on Sunday night. They said she never came home after tutoring, but she wasn’t going home, she was going there with her little boy toy.”

“Asten,” Nico warned, still glaring those blunt pencils. “Please stop. And absolutely not. We don’t even know where it is, and we’re not breaking in.”

“The address is in my hand, dude,” Asten stated, pulling his own phone out and taking a picture of Dr. Keene’s rental property’s information. “Cabins in the woods are murder central. We know that from, like, every horror book and movie ever. We have to go. Just to make sure.”

“To murder central,” Nico sighed.

“Yes, to murder central,”

Bentley breathed in deep. First, they stole a teachers phone, and now they were going to break into his rental property? He wasn’t sure he liked where this whole plan was going.

But, he guessed, if it proved or denied Dr. Keene’s innocence for sure, that’s what they needed to do.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @cademygod

[klbwriting]

Not Romeo, Not Juliet

Chapter 3: This Fierce Vein

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!Reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Jason is Hamlet...and he's terrible. Extra practice leads to new discoveries

There is no following her in this fierce vein

— A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM, ACT 3 SCENE 2

Things Jason had expected when he auditioned for Bludhaven Prep’s theater production of Hamlet: 1. A sophomore would be Hamlet, his audition was amazing even if he had tripped getting onto the stage, 2. Chelsea would be Ophelia and that poor sophomore would have to pretend to love her, and 3. He would coast by in the background without anyone noticing him. What he did not expect was to roll up to rehearsal Monday morning only for the cast list to say Jason Todd…Hamlet. Apparently, he had been good and now everyone in the group wanted to know who he was. He groaned, already feeling the eyes of the freshmen on him, trying to calculate what they could say to him to make him think they were cool enough to be friends. Theater wasn’t a huge deal at this school, but it was big enough that the leads were popular, and Jason had no interest. He went to the director, trying to talk them out of casting him but they held firm.

“Mr. Todd, you were a natural, excellent. I really think you could do this professionally and I don’t say that to many people,” the director said, setting a mark on the floor before looking at him. “I know it feels like a lot of pressure, but you were made to be Hamlet.” O great, he was meant to play a madman who dies, well guess he did die once, at least that he knew he was actually good at. He sighed and just nodded, going and waiting for rehearsal to start.

By the time practice was over he was pretty sure they were reconsidering his casting. He had been terrible, missing cues, flubbing lines that he knew by heart, not focusing. He felt the restlessness he had felt ever since the pit flowing through him. He didn’t want to be there, he wanted to be out, hitting something, getting this energy out in the most violent way possible. The other seniors were packing up, asking him if he wanted to go out, maybe run lines with them.

“No, after Friday I honestly don’t want to hang out with you guys ever again,” he said honestly, voice having an edge that clearly frightened them.

“Don’t have to be such a dick. We were just getting payback,” Jackson said. Jason looked over at him, eyes blazing green, and growled at him. The three of them scampered off and Jason collapsed into one of the theater seats, frustrated. He needed to rant about this. Maybe Dick could get him out of being Hamlet, use his money to drop Jason down to something else.

“Nope, sorry kid, I think you should do this play and be Hamlet,” Dick said over dinner that night. Jason sighed.

“Why? I was terrible today, I don’t think I’m cut out for being an actor,” he mumbled, pushing a meatball around his plate. He had been so annoyed about play practice that he had overdone the meatballs, they were dry, just another fuck up on this perfectly fucked up day.

“O come off it Jason, you spent six years acting,” Dick said. Jason looked at him confused. “You were Robin from ages 10-16, so in that time you were either pretending to be Robin or pretending to be Jason Todd, you’re an actor.” Jason frowned.

“Who was I pretending to be?” he whispered. Dick looked at him, eyes softening. That was the question anyone associated with Batman would ask, what was real? The person or the mask? “Who are you pretending to be? Dick or Nightwing?”

“I’m not always sure,” Dick admitted, clearing his plate. “Maybe being in this play, trying to act, will help you see who you were before you died.”

Rehearsal was pushed from Tuesday to Wednesday that week but it didn’t help. Jason was still a mess, trying so hard to get it right. He kept hearing Bruce’s voice in the back of his head. ‘You’re not listening Jason’, ‘Dick could have done this on the first try’, ‘You can do better’. When rehearsal was over the director pulled him aside.

“I can see that you’re distracted,” she said. Jason wanted to lie but he just nodded. “Is there something going on at home? I know that you live with your older brother.” Jason didn’t know why but this woman reminded him of his mother. He barely remembered her, but he did remember that when she wasn’t strung out her eyes were soft, care would radiate from her when she was sober. This teacher had the same kind eyes, the same warmth her. It made him loosen his normally tight lips.

“No, nothing like that, he’s great. Just ya know, wasn’t always a good family life. I let down my dad a lot before I…moved,” he said, stopping himself before saying ‘died’. The director nodded, understanding.

“My mother was overbearing when I was young, always thought I was a disappointment,” she said, leaning on the stage next to where he sat. “I would hear her voice in my head, just disparaging me every time I did anything. A big test, performance, dance recital, always her telling me I would screw up.”

“Does it ever stop?” he asked. She looked at him, eyes full of sympathy and he nodded. “Does it get quieter?” She nodded.

“Once you really give yourself over to what you’re doing the volume goes down. Instead of thinking about your father when you’re acting, try thinking about Hamlet, what he is feeling. He didn’t have your father, imagine what his father was like. Use that to fuel your performance,” she said. Jason nodded. “I will see you Friday at rehearsal.” She packed up and left him alone. Jason looked at the stage.

“Might as well run through it myself,” he mumbled, standing and going to his first mark. He was midway through the first act when he heard something towards stage right. He walked over, feet making no noise, as he moved through the sets stored in the wings. He came up the prop room and saw YN. She was grabbing the swords they were using and took them out of the room. He stayed behind set pieces watching as she hid the swords, one behind an old radiator, one in a light rigging that had been lowered for repair, just random places. It was the kind of prank that was actually funny. He let out a chuckle, coming out from behind the bridge piece. She froze at the noise, turning and facing him.

“Hello, didn’t know anyone was still here,” she said, setting down the last sword, setting a prop blanket on top of it on the floor. “Well, going to turn me in? I’m sure some teacher is still around. You could really fuck with my chances in the Shakespeare competition.” She crossed her arms, staring him down. A lot of bad people had tried to stare Jason down before, Bane, Poinson Ivy, Two Face….Joker. He hadn’t looked away from any of them, he wasn’t the guilty one, they were, and he would win, but he looked away from YN. This time he did feel guilty. He hadn’t been the perpetrator of that horrid prank at the open mic night, but she didn’t know that. He was there with the people who did it and Jason understand the term ‘guilty by association’.

“I’m not going to tell on you, I’m not a snitch, and I can’t wait to see Jackson whine about his missing sword on Friday,” he said. “But you should probably be more careful, sneaking around here is reckless.” He almost gagged on the word. Since when did he sound like Bruce?

“Me? Reckless? I’m sorry little rich boy, you were just slumming it in Crime Alley, who is reckless?” she demanded. Jason stared at her. “And what were you doing there anyway? Come to laugh at us poor kids? Did those asshole friends of yours send you to find something on me? The new guy gets to do the dirty work and ruin my life?”

“Woah, listen, I don’t give a shit about your life, I was there for….reasons,” he said, not sure how to say ‘I needed to hit people because coming back from the dead had side effects’ without sounding insane.

“Either way, you can’t tell anyone where I’m from, if word got around that I was just some degenerate from Crime Alley…people are mean,” she said, feeling so lame for that. Jason nodded. He understood. If you were from Crime Alley you were a delinquent, you were scum and you could never fix that. It was a label that was hard to wash off. Jason only got out because Bruce made sure of it, money was the only thing to really mover you out of that slum.

“I won’t tell anyone,” he said. “I grew up there too.” He knew that was a bridge too far by the look on her face.

“Ya sure, you don’t need to try to relate to me rich boy,” she said. “Now I’m getting out of here, hopefully I never see you again.” She gave him the middle finger and left through the side stage door. Jason smiled after her, feeling his heart flutter a little. O shit.

Curiosity was driving Jason as he slid down the alley behind Big Belly Burger, red mask on his face. He had seen her working already, walking by the front window casually, hood up, mask on, so she wouldn’t know it was him. He could be anybody, there were plenty of vigilante pretenders in the area, he blended in. He waited until she was finished and followed her down the street. She didn’t live far from her work and Jason snuck into a familiar alley when she went into the apartment building. The same building, he grew up in. He looked around the alley, remembering finding the Batmobile right where he was standing. He still didn’t know how he went from seeing the infamous vehicle to thinking ‘I should get those rims’, but stealing those tires had changed his life and those memories were bittersweet now. He shook them away as he jumped, grabbing the fire escape ladder and hulled himself up.

She lived on the fourth floor he found. He could see through the thin curtains into her living room. She went in, taking off the apron she wore for work and hung it by the door. There was a frozen dinner on the counter, so she grabbed it and threw it in the microwave before approaching the couch where he noticed a thin woman was laying on it.

“Hey mom, how are you?” she asked, kneeling by the woman and gently touching her head. Her mother took her hand and kissed it.

“I’m feeling fine Lady Macbeth,” she said. YN smiled at her. “How was play practice?”

“I didn’t have practice tonight, I went to mess with the Bludhaven Prep stuff,” she said. The woman coughed a little and he could see concern cross YN’s face. Her mother was sick, very sick from the sound of that cough. His heart ached. He could remember that sound, his mother had coughed like that the night she OD’d. It was fused into his brain.

“You didn’t get in trouble, did you? Is that why you’re late?” her mom asked.

“No, one of the guys, that guy from the open mic? He was there, but I don’t think he’s going to say anything. They’re all jerks, but he’s the least jerky I think,” she said. Well, at least she didn’t completely hate him. “And then I had work tonight remember? Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday I work, Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday morning I have practice?”

“O, right of course,” her mother answered. YN turned off the TV. “I was watching that…”

“You need to be in bed now, come on,” she said. She slid an arm under her mother and helped her stand before leaving the room. Jason sat on the fire escape for another minute before deciding he had invaded her privacy enough. He needed to get home anyway, Dick would be pissed if he came back and Jason was gone. He trudged home, now even angrier at the other seniors for their pranks. He was going to make it up to YN, he promised that.

[brucewaynehater101]

There's this fic I read a long time ago while I was obsessed with tcf's fics, where OG!Cale's personality is suspiciously a lot friendly but it turns out that he actually died a while ago and Deruth trapped his soul in there or something. OG!Cale reaches out to Rok Soo, begging on his knees (HE CALLS OUT FOR RON!!), but then his body rebooted and he was back to his sus pleasant personality.

SO IT GOT ME THINKING. CRAVING. PLOTTING.

Wouldn't it be so nice if we used that manipulation technology that Bruce used on Jason? But combine it with some time-travel and Bruce uses it on Jason earlier before he debuts as Red Hood?

I want Tim, the person Jason was going to use as a lesson towards Bruce, to find Jason this way. He gets a few days of happiness, being with Jason. But fanon stalker instincts tell Tim that there is a whole lot that wasn't right with the past few days as well.

Although I also want some angst caused by Dick's denial, I think he would instantly believe Tim if he explained that Jason feels off. And that's why, I think Bruce never tells Dick about Jason coming back to life (like he never told Dick about when Jason died) conveniently also still off on some mission.

Tim, who had been (self appointedly) in charge of making Bruce's support group, makes the decision to crush it. By solely starting with Alfred.

He needs verbal confirmation on whether the old man is truly on his side or not.

So he tells him.

And Alfred, sweet old Alfred. The one who gave Tim the Robin suit in the first place. The one who enabled not only Bruce's bad habits but also Tim's own. The one who is either on Bruce's side or none at all.

Alfred weeps. And admits that he's known all this time.

And that's what's horrible.

"Jason admired you," Tim would tell him. "He loved you and followed your advice to heart.

"And you just. Let it all happen? He's probably waiting for you to notice! Because other than Bruce, you're the second person who's been there for him the whole time he stayed here!"

Tim looks at him in disgust.

"How could you?"

Without waiting for a reply, he leaves.

He takes Jason with him.

And then, he goes for the second person part of Bruce's support group who can very much ruin Bruce's life just as easily.

He takes Jason to Babs.

Oof! Time travel angst with the brain altering would be fantastic. Though, is Bruce the one who time travels, then? He, after already deciding to do that to Jason once, goes back in time and writes off the kid (especially if this is before Red Hood debuted and thus Jason would be max 18 years old). No talking to Jason, no effort, just Bruce going to the extreme.

Damn. Let's just keep building this fuckery up, shall we?

So, the symbolism of Tim taking Babs' support from Bruce away is fantastic. Before Tim got involved, Bruce was practically by himself. Babs had her own independence away from Bruce as Oracle and Dick was still fighting with Bruce (for good reasons).

After Tim finds out that Bruce did such fucked up shit? He pulls that man's support from him so fast. Also, Tim, who made his entire Robin career based on needing to pull Bruce from becoming a monster, does he end up feeling like a failure? Does he blame himself? Does he still tediously try to stop and fix Bruce?

Since it's probably before his 16th birthday, I think he wouldn't have the understanding of how cruel Bruce can be. This reveal is such a shock and hurts way more because Tim never thought Bruce could pull that shit against his children.

Despite his complicated feelings, Tim works to reverse the shit Bruce did to Jason's head.

This leads to Jason reverting back to his previous mental state. The man is traumatized by what Bruce did and begrudgingly thankful for Tim's assistant, but he still hates Tim's guts. He despises him.

After the days, weeks, whatever it took for them to reverse it, this is not the reaction Tim was expecting. Jason had been constantly scared, but he was also kind and affectionate to Tim. Seeing Jason become better yet hateful of Tim, especially after Tim had betrayed his mentor to do it? Damn.

Extra angst to be added on would be Bruce, after he realizes that Tim had betrayed him, goes to pick up Damian early. He needs a Robin, afterall, and he can't trust Tim.

This would make Damian max 8 at this age and thus the youngest Robin to hit the streets (I think) (Bruce is a horrible person in this AU, ig. Fuck that guy).

[thelibrarian1895]

The Bats Are Trolls

I toy with the idea but haven’t figured how I want this as a full fic so tossing it into the ether, do with it what you will

Concept: Stupid magic user erases knowledge of Bat family from world as part of very dumb plan, Gotham only knows them as rumors and that’s because they’re Gotham’s heroes and Bruce has TONS of magic neutralizing things scattered around Gotham just in case, Justice League knows something is off but can’t quite figure out what’s going on and Batman’s annoyed with everyone questioning him while he’s trying to clean up the mess and the Robins (Robins will be a term that includes Cass even though she’s possibly the only one that never wore the R which is sad and needs to be fixed) decide now is a good time to troll the league (possible dash of angst because Tim’s friends don’t know who he is and the poor boy needs his friends or Tim takes this time to troll them more than he’s been able to for years and Tim is my favorite Robin)

Featuring Batman on Watchtower and for some reason the majority of his kids decided to follow, because they’re all chaotic trolls, and that includes Batman

When JL asks where Batman got all these heroes to follow him

Dick: I’m his love child with Vengeance (Bc one of the driving things that got Dick to be a vigilante was wanting vengeance for his parents’ murder)

Jason: I was told there’d be candy

Tim: Batman and Gotham had an accident and I’m the result, they’re being much more careful now

Stephanie: I was told there’d be candy

JL: Do kids in Gotham not understand that taking candy from strangers is a bad thing? Red Hood said that too

Steph: Have you ever been to Gotham? If you want candy you can actually eat instead candy that’s absolutely drugged and probably full of razor blades or ground glass, Batman’s basically the only source.

Damian: I am the son and heir of Batman

JL possibly a Flash: So Batman had another kid with Vengeance? Or Gotham? How? Are there other heroes named Vengeance and Gotham?

Tim: No, Nightwing’s parent was the concept of Vengeance, mine was the personification of Gotham. *Gestures to Damian* His is the Night, her parent *gestures towards Cassandra* is Justice

JL probably a Lantern: Didn’t Batman ever learn to wrap it up?

Stephanie: Dude, gross, do you ask your dad that kind of thing?

Tim sweet stalker boy who has weird sense of boundaries: He had a vasectomy ages ago, it’s in his medical files, but that wouldn’t really stop someone like the brat’s mother, or certain others

JL possibly Diana: Others?

Tim: Did you really think we’re Batman’s only children? *ignoring implication JL wanted to know about Batman’s theoretical baby mamas*

JL possibly a very worried Clark: How many others? How many other children does he have I mean?

Dick: Good question

Jason: Depends on the day

Tim: I have the current list with me *pulls out book the size of a dictionary*

JL: Why does it say “Hit List” on the front?

Dick: Robin started it and we haven’t had the time to think of a better name that we can all agree on

 This is true on several levels, Tim started to put together the book after the nth new kid from a different multiverse to try to help keep things straight for everyone since some of the kids were great like Terry or Father Todd while others were Joker Jr. or a Talon, none of the Robins will admit who named the list and all of them have a terrible sense of humor

 Dumb mage’s mistake is eventually undone, JL realizes they’ve met more of Batman’s kids during that point than they have…ever, they really only interact with Nightwing on a regular basis and Red Robin sometimes

[kiseiakhun]

(nsfw)

read on ao3

*

Alright.

Alright, so, the kid is hooking up with Wally. That... makes more sense than it doesn't, actually, considering how they bicker. It was only a matter of time before they jumped each other. Had been jumping each other. Honestly, they're barely keeping it discreet. Probably the only reason Hal hadn't noticed sooner is because he barely spends time on Earth anymore.

He just wishes they weren't proving his suspicions right on his bed. That he sleeps on.

His bed. Not Kyle's, or at least, the bed that Kyle is currently sleeping in, because the kid had somehow gotten it in his head that Hal's spare room is meant for him. "The beds on the watchtower are uncomfortable," he says, every time he has to stay on Earth for more than two days, "and it's not like anyone is staying with you," and "every time I stay with the Titans I get sucked into teenager drama," and "you're the only one with a place on Earth anymore, please please please please please?"

Which is a lie, by the way. Alan still has his mansion, and he knows Bruce keeps a place around for Kyle because he's soft on the kid. And none of it matters, because Hal always says yes. Kyle's right. It's not like anyone is using his spare room, anyway.

"You're such an asshole," he hears Kyle hiss, through the cracked-open door, and then, "ow! Stop biting me!" He really needs to start learning how to say 'no' to Kyle. It's been years, he's made up for the whole Parallax thing, right? Right.

"Then hurry up," Wally insists. "I didn't come to hear you bitch and whine."

"In case you forgot, I didn't ask you to come. You invited yourself." There's the shuffle of bodies, the creak of Hal's ancient bedsprings. Unwittingly, Hal conjures an image of Kyle. And Wally. And their paper-thin uniforms that they create out of nothing. Would they even need to take anything off? Touching Kyle is like touching bare skin.

And that's a dangerous line of thought. No. Nope.

"I came to see Hal, not you," Wally insists. "And speaking of, hurry up, before he comes back."

There's a seconds-long pause.

"Really?" Wally asks.

"Shut up," Kyle replies, sounding flustered.

"Freak." Wally can't be too offended, if the rocking of the bed and Kyle's low moan is any indication. "Of course you'd like that, you shameless exhibitionist."

"Like you're any better." There's the sound of flesh on flesh. Of lips on skin. Hal stares at the sliver of afternoon light spilling through the crack on the door like it holds all the answers. His pants feel tight. Maybe he should start using his front door instead of flying in through the window. John had lectured him enough on the security threat of an always-open window. So had Bruce, but Hal doesn't care about Bruce's opinion. Kyle also insists on the open window, for his oil paintings to dry.

Hal really needs to start saying no to the kid.

"What are you doing?" Kyle asks, sounding strangled.

"Did you leave your brain in space?" Wally's voice is breathy. Hal is rooted in place. "What does it look like I'm doing, dumbass?"

"I am not fucking you today." Kyle's voice is a tight hiss. "We're on Hal's bed!"

"Oh, so you'd grope me on Hal's bed, but you won't fuck me on Hal's bed?"

"I'm not getting lube on his sheets! He doesn't have a washing machine!"

"Unbelievable," Wally says. "When did you get so uptight? Did space turn you into a prude, too? I thought lanterns were supposed to be sluts."

"You're a slut." Kyle sounds aggrieved. "You really can't live without my cock for one day? You're the one who says we should make this qu-ick-"

"I'm always quick." Wally sounds far too smug for someone who just basically admitted he can't last in bed. The wet noises get louder. "And stop being so precious, I know you've jerked off on this bed."

"Fuck," Kyle hisses. "That's different, you a-asshole." His breathing gets heavy. "Me t-touching myself doesn't mean bringing lube-stained sheets to the laundromat."

Hal feels dizzy. Kyle. Touching himself. On Hal's bed.

He should really leave. He should've left ten minutes ago. He should've left as soon as he flew in through the window and heard Wally and Kyle rolling in the sheets, hissing and spitting at each other like cats. The sheets. On his bed. On Hal's bed, that they are on, right now.

Kyle takes too many liberties with Hal's stuff. Kyle waltzes into his life like a little diva and takes Hal's time and his home like he's entitled to it, wheedling and pouting and nagging Hal until he folds to his every request. He sleeps in his bed, leaves crumbs on the couch cushions, and stinks up the apartment with his paints and canvases and half-drunk cups of coffee. Against his will, Hal knows what gesso is, and fixative, and the dangers of tossing oil paint rags in the trash. He keeps pulling sketchbooks out from under tables, and pillows, and under the bed and behind the bookcase and, once, in the spice cabinet, tucked into the furthest corner. It might still be there, actually. Kyle's still here, in his bed, in his life, flitting around like a moth that won't leave.

And now he's fucking Wally in Hal's room. Not the spare bedroom, but Hal's. He's touched himself in that bedroom. And God, Wally. Hal can't think of Wally. He's known Wally since he was a kid, since he was a bright-eyed little rascal looking at Barry like he's the best thing in the world.

This is so, so wrong.

"Stop worrying," Wally tells Kyle, that breathy tone still in his voice, that breathy, aroused voice that Hal shouldn't listen to, he should not be listening to. "No one cares about - hah. About what you do."

"Are you trying to be nice?" Kyle's voice has the same strain to it. "Because if you are, you're, ngh. You're really bad at it."

"I'm not." Wally somehow manages to sound both unimpressed and turned on at once. Hal wonders what they're doing, wonders at their position. From context, Wally's probably on top of Kyle. Is Kyle sitting up, or lying down? Hal imagines it. Imagines Kyle holding Wally's hips, or his ass, fingers denting the jagged red edges of his uniform, ripped open just enough to ease Kyle's cock into him. And Kyle, in the last thing Hal saw him in, wearing Guy's football jersey and a pair of tiny shorts that ride up enough to show the curve of his ass when he bends over-

More rustling. The sound of a body being flipped over.

"Fucking brat," Kyle spits. "I'll make you shut up."

Hal should really leave.

He reaches for his pants. Squeezes his erection. And doesn't move.

[mikeydraws]

And here I present from my notes, a list of

Suoersons braunrot???

That I totally didn’t make mostly at the hours of 1-4 am

POV: You’re giving HC to Supersons but you are in fact projecting

(Most are platonic while the others are Romantic)

Damián can’t keep friendships, mainly bc of his past he actually like can’t, he has such issues with that bc at school he starts being friend with someone and after a year they aren’t friends anymore, his only friends are his team mates

And ofc Jon, but Damian will never admit that

If Jon and Damian dated/started being in a romantic relationship (as adults/same age) they would actually forget, they would be sitting down reading books one day and then one of them just blurbs out “omg we’re boyfriends?” (Mostly Jon) and then would do a lil kiss on the cheek or just get closer

One thing Damian and Jon have in common is that they never experienced Teenage Love, Damian just never cared and well Jon was stuck in a volcano and he still feels like he missed out

Jon is horribly claustrophobic, he got locked in the bathroom once and Kon had to save him from a panic attack (and also saving the house from being blown apart)

Bruce, Richard and sometimes Jason all call Damian “little Dami” when the isn’t here to hear it

Both damian and jon got bullied at school, but they will only attack the bullies if they mention the other, like jon nearly ending a kid bc he said Damian acted and sounded weird. While Damian gets detention for being too brutal with a kid who called Jon a baby. None of them know this.

(Adults/same age) I don’t think their love would just erupt from no where, I see a lot of fanfics do this where they just jump in, no they are so slowburn it hurts, shits even worse than Aziracrow 😭

Damian likes people who are easy to read/expressive, he feels very safe with those people, yet he is the most closed up mf in the area

When Damian gets Overwhelmed and on the edge of a meltdown he else fights so intensely it’s dangerous, bro needs the whole bat cave to himself during these moments

Most of Damian’s meltdowns are caused by a really uncomfortable pain that lasts long, it’s not the same pain as a wound or anything like that, he mostly hates muscle cramps, the ripped up skin around his nails and any other unidentifiable pains

Jon get overstimulated after stress and paranoia, like he has sm, during exams and finals he needs to have things around him to comfort him or else his anxiety will get him

Jon isn’t a puppy golden retriever baby, no this dude will break a wall, a bone to protect ANYONE, he is the best guard dog ever

Jon is the baker, Damian is the cooker. I will not elaborate.