#robin damian fic

[ilovedagain]

A story of Damian's place in his family, told in verse.

There's a book in a library in Grandfather's castle, with people's illustrations and yellowed pages. Lines connect their names and faces, forming branches spanning generations. And down at the bottom is Damian's name. Mother's face and name are there, a beautiful portrait and sprawling calligraphy. But the space for Father's place is empty. He traces his small fingers over the space where Father ought to be and wonders what the reason could be.

"Am I a bastard?" He asks Mother one day, his mouth and mind running as she runs a comb through her hair.

The comb stops. She meets his eyes in the mirror, facing him in the gilded frame. For a moment, it's as if her portrait from that book has come to life. "Why would you say that?"

"My father is never here. And his name is not in the book—the book of our family tree..."

Mother turns and holds his shoulders with careful hands. There is something in her expression that he can't understand.

"Your father is the greatest man," she says. "And you are his precious son. His name is Bruce Wayne and he lives in Gotham. One day, my love, you will meet him and know exactly how deep his love for you grows."

That is the day Damian steals the book and hopes. He hides, takes out a quill, and replicates with careful hands his family tree. It is with a child's hope that he draws sprawling leaves and bountiful apples, deep roots, and entwined branches. And in each apple, he writes a name. Ra's al Ghul. Nyssa Raatko. Mara al Ghul. Dusan al Ghul. Talia al Ghul. Bruce Wayne. And Damian al Ghul Wayne.

From then on, Mother regales him with tales of Bruce Wayne. The king who protects his city like a knight, the man whose love for people burned bright. Damian drinks up the stories he hears from Mother like thirsty roots, and he loved and loved. One day, his mother said, he will meet his father and find the same love.

Like a sprout, Damian grows. His feet are grounded, and his heart burns with sunlight. His hands are tough as tree trunks and calloused like them too. He sheds blood and bleeds from his blades. Then, night fades, dawn breaks, and his promised day comes.

He meets his father at Wayne Manor. He is everything Damian hoped he'll be. Except—

Except—

Damian is nothing his father wants him to be.

There is a family in Wayne Manor and Damian's not part of it. They come from different trees, and yet Father treats them like branches from his own pedigree. And Damian—Damian—is the unwanted one.

It doesn't make sense. It's nurture against nature. With every moment Father dotes on his wards, approves of their choices and hands them responsibilities—

but not to Damian, never, no—

Damian's heart rots. A worm finds its way into his heart and scours. He is spoiled skin streched over an eaten core. Yellowed fruit, left out, and nothing more.

And yet, he loves. He loves Father again and again: when he breaks his bones to save them all, when he admonishes Damian because he cares if his heir knows right from wrong, when he writes detailed notes about his wards and never forgets a word, and when he settles his hand on Damian's head in a rare moment—a warm weight, like feeling sunlight for the first time, and Damian leans into it.

Drunk with sunlight, he opens his sketchbook and draws the day Mother said he was ready to meet his father. It was the coldest night in the desert, with blue-tinted sand and red blood pouring from his victims. The sandstorm that shook his bones was nothing compared to the relief vibrating in his body when he heard those words: "Good work, my son. You are ready to meet your father."

There is a page in Damian's sketchbook from when he was young: a forgotten drawing of his family tree. An al Ghul is not one to concede, so Damian takes the page and tries to understand.

He reconstructs the tree with hope it will reconstruct himself. More branches. More apples. More sons and daughters, even if he has to pause because his hand shakes as he draws. Faces drawn in detail and referenced from a family photo he wasn't in.

He gives each portrait a personality. Richard Grayson is penciled in feather-light strokes, hair wind-blown. Jason Todd is inked again and again, lines darker and thicker each time. Timothy Drake is penned in simple lines and logical symmetry. Cassandra Cain is painted with a thin brush, every curve in her lips and line in her shoulders there for a reason. Alfred Pennyworth is drawn with exquisite detail in the finest fountain pen. Martha and Thomas Wayne are brushed to life with oil paint.

Father adopts new wards, Damian adds more and more. He thinks he understands. Father chose them all, but Damian he did not. There are blood ties that flow in veins, and then there are waters that flow in trees. Water may come from rivers, seas, ponds, and rain. Blood, however, is always the same.

Damian looks at the family tree he made. Father's side is vast and flourshing with new fruit. Mother's side is small and old. It looks like it's not getting enough water. Damian resolves to change that. Al Ghuls live in harmony with creatures spanning the globe and time itself. Surely, surely, he can do the same with his father's family.

He loves again and again: when he cuts through the air beside Father; when Grayson is the first to understand Father, and Drake is their first responder; when Todd swaps his bullets for rubber and Father claps his shoulder; when Damian fights with the blunt edge of his katana, and Father observes the cuts in his victims a second longer.

"Not everything is a fight."

Love feels like a fight. He fights love and it fights back. He holds his tongue with barbed wire and shoulders past names like 'Demon child'. He marks down their birthdays on his calendar because they say it matters. Leaves his heirloom daggers in the back of his closet, feels stripped naked even fully clothed, and tells himself it doesn't matter. He loves, and he remembers those words—"you will meet him and know exactly how deep his love for you grows"—and he finds his mother's side of the family on a blacklist, and silent stares are trained on him whenever "Ra's" is uttered as a suspect.

"Did he kill again? Whose blood is that?"

He loves again and again. The inside of his heart is flayed and raw, red lines crisscrossing his love. He loves until it consumes his heart, and then he loves again. When Cain is Father's choice for a partner and Damian is an obligation. When Drake is entrusted with a business empire and Damian is watched out of the corner of their eyes when he holds a kitchen knife. When Grayson is away and Father calls him, Damian is always here and Father seldom speaks to him. When Father suggests books for Todd to read and frowns at the men lying dead in a desert in Damian's sketchbook.

"Don't draw these things, Damian. Violence is not to be glorified."

He loves. And he loves. He loves and stays awake nights wondering why his family's love is a forbidden fruit. He deeply yearns but he's not allowed it. He reaches towards it and it reaches opposite. He kills little parts of himself to have it and it can easily live without him.

"Who did he kill this time?"

There is a page in a sketchbook in Damian's closet. With people's illustrations and fraying edges. Lines connect their names and faces, forming branches sprouting apples. And down at the bottom, is Damian's name. On his mother's decaying branches. The poisoned apples.

[frownyalfred]

thinking about the expert masseuse Alfred hired for the family that is paid a small fortune annually to provide massage services and ignore so, so many things. No questions, no remarks, just quality service and an ironclad NDA that, if broken, would probably topple said masseuse’s entire family line.

Things Alfred is paying them to ignore, in no specific order:

Bruce’s spinal hardware courtesy of Bane :)

weird amounts of muscle on everyone, even the kids (despite them allegedly not working physical jobs)

scars

FRESH scars

the fact that every joint in Bruce’s body clicks when moved/manipulated at the tender age of 42

Olympic athlete level physiques

rotator cuff injuries across the whole family

scars that are definitely from bullets and/or acid splashes

old signs of what looks like torture (Bruce)

Dick’s entire left arm is basically screws and plates (he “fell really bad” once)

every single family member takes deep tissue massage with max pressure with 0 complaints

calluses

no really, the weirdest fucking calluses

[everwalldigan]

I love the idea of all the robins kinda being clones of each other with just a few differences and a concussed Bruce not being able to tell who he’s squinting at so he just says generic statements and avoids saying any names

Bruce (sitting at the breakfast table): so… how’s the weather… dick?

Jason (grinning): you do know I’m gonna hold this against you for like, the next 2 months right

Bruce: (groans into his hands)

Bruce (walking into the living room): hey have you read through the files I gave you yesterday?

Dick: (confused cause he took a day off to surprise Bruce) ?

Bruce: so?

Dick: er… no?

Bruce: Dick?? What are you doing here?

Bruce (walks into the kitchen with a fresh concussion): Jason? I thought you were on a mission with the outlaws?

Tim: (frozen through mid fridge raid, having assumed they were past Bruce calling him Jason since yk. He’s a shit brickhouse now and Tim is, well, obviously not): uh?

Bruce: *turns around and leaves*

Bruce: Oh hey Cass, when did you arrive from Babs’?

Damian: (slowly turns around in the black hoodie he’s wearing) we’re not even the same gender

Bruce: (under his breath) yeah but the same height

[haveihitanerve]

I love how people are like Jason Todd was a demon child and all the other robins were angels compared to him like lmao robin!Jason was a fucking delight what do you mean

Dick showed up at the manor with a blue stuffed animal elephant and the rage of 100 men and the only thing thats changed is that the elephant is grey now

Tim showed up with blackmail on the fucking Batman and bullied him into accepting him as robin

Damian popped up on the doorstep holding a fucking katanna

Meanwhile robin!jason was jumping from building to building squealing robin magic! and would spontaneously hug Batman. he loved reading shakepeare knowledge and literally screamed golly jee willickers as the highest curse word in his vocabulary.

Robin!Jason was a goddamned fucking delight and all the other ones were the little demon children lmaooo

[pacificwaternymph]

Did you guys know that Duke's tag on Ao3 only has 7,000 fics? Because I didn't.

[gothamite-rambler]

That was actually a good deed, Jason.

Jason Todd walked over to Bruce Wayne scrolling through photos on his phone. He tapped the man on the shoulder.

Jason: You want baby pictures of Damian?

Bruce spat out his coffee in shock. Jason chuckled.

Jason: You have to pay me.

Bruce (frantic): You better not be lying to me because if you have baby pictures of him I will pay you whatever price you ask.

Jason: Um okay I have about 10 I can give you now so $10,000 for each one.

Bruce: Stay there, gotta get my phone and I'll transfer the funds to your bank account.

Bruce ran out of the room leaving Jason Todd with Alfred watching the entire interaction, impressed.

Alfred: Jason, how did you get baby pictures?

Jason: Remember, I knew about his existence before Bruce ever did. I visited the kid for the first 9 years before Bruce found out about him. Talia paid me to take photos of him for memories.

Alfred: That's very wholesome of you.

Jason (confused): I said Talia paid me.

Alfred: Money or not, you did a good deed. Now Master Bruce can have a few photos and trust me, he's been begging Talia for baby pictures for years. Be proud of yourself.

Jason smiled.

Jason: I appreciate you saying that.

Alfred: I mean every word of it. You're welcome.

[multiverseworm]

No because, I can totally picture Damian getting unsolicited advice from each of the batkids when they hear he’s going on a date. All of them having a completely different idea of what that entails😭

Steph: Remember to always offer your hoodie, even if she’s taller than you. We girls like that.

Damian: we’re in the middle of June, Brown. In what world do you think is appropriate to bring a piece of clothing designed for cold weather when it’s 90° degrees outside?

…

Duke: Everyone loves a good joke, it’s a good way to break the ice as well.

Damian: Thank you, Thomas. That also works as a great way to defeat Mr. Freeze if he ever decides to escape Arkham.

…

Cass: *explaining in full detail how to look for signs that his date is not interested anymore through body language*

Damian: *taking extensive notes about it*

…

Tim: Don’t forget to find out everything about her and her background.

Damian: *visibly offended* Who do you think I am, Drake? An Amateur? I obviously already did that. Full report is in the batcomputer files.

…

Babs: Just don’t do anything Dick tells you.

Damian: …

…

Dick: Did Babs actually say that? Whatever, just remember to be polite, make her laugh, pay for the meal and walk her home.

*makes a pause*

Dick: Bruce already gave you “the talk”, right? If not, this is about to get veeery awkward…

Damian: *mutters curses in Arabic*

…

Damian: Todd, do you have a minute? I need your assistance in getting intel for a mission.

Jason: Does this mission involve the date everyone else has been so eagerly talking about? *smirks devilish*

Damian: …

Jason: …

Damian: You read Austen, you have the greatest intel of them all to fill me in on this assignment.

Jason: Sit down and listen close, little spawn. Here’s what you’re gonna do if you want that girl to have the best date she’s ever gonna get.

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

After Jason’s resurrection he finds that his body works… wrong somehow.

Some days he forgets to breathe until he wants to say something and finds there’s no air in lungs. Other days his body goes eerily cold until someone points out that his lips are blue and he needs to warm up.

And some days his heart stops beating in his sleeps.

It’s fine, really. It always starts again eventually a short while after he wakes up. And yeah, of course it was a bit scary the first couple times it happened but it’s not like his resurrection and Pit-dip came with an instruction manual, so this is probably pretty normal stuff, all things considered. He is kind of the definition of “undead”.

The real trouble starts when he forgets to mention those little details to the Batfamily when he stays over for the night.

[rewrittenwrongs]

AU where Damian is mourning his father and desperate to believe it isn’t real so he’s the one to listen to Tim when he says Bruce is alive, when Dick dismisses him, so he plops himself down next to Tim and refuses not to help him even though they hate each other, and they drag each other kicking and screaming on the worst road trip of all time

[betrayalandbetrayed]

If anyone knows of a crack fic where Jason and Damian are fighting over who has the highest kill count, and it turns into this large thing with like a betting pool. So Oracle takes over and spends like a week determining exactly how many deaths each person has caused.

I think it went Steph and Duke at the bottom with 0, Cass with 1, Dick with 11, then Jason and Damian, and finally Tim in like the 10,000s.

It was funny as far as I remember

[caffeinatedvigilantewriter]

So after having a sort of redemption arc, Dan goes to Clockwork and asks if him could be reincarnated. CW agrees and Dan becomes Bruce Wayne, with all his memories intact.

(He’s still in the same universe as before so Danny (18), Dani(16), Jazz(20), etc are still alive and kicking)

He still has his Batman training montage but when he goes to Circus Haley he takes in Dick Grayson because he doesn’t want the boy to be fueled with anger like he was after the Nasty Burger accident.

So, Robin takes flight.

Bruce never mentions his previous life to Dick, and whenever he has to deal with a ghost issue, Alfred covers for him. Alfred obviously knows.

Bruce adopts Jason, Tim, Cass, Duke and when Damian comes around, Bruce’s sees someone so angry, so hurt he decides to get his shit together to parent right.

When Jason returns, Bruce figures out the entire Pit madness thing and fixes that for him.

(If he has a romantic relationship with Talia, Selina, Clark etc is up to you) (I personally ship Hal and Bruce together in this AU)

Maybe one day, he gets injured.

Badly.

He’s bleeding green and he flickering between his Humana and ghost form while his children watch in horror.

The only solution is to call Danny and Dani

Any media is welcome as long as you tag and comment :)))

[rapplesart]

Random fic idea

Tim drake but instead of loosing his spleen he lost part of his leg.

Tim thought it was obvious he was missing his right leg from the knee down. It was a whole leg that was missing after all. Sure he was wearing a prosthetic made by Ra's' best people.

One he painfully earned after that crazy fucker made him fight a bunch of his assassins one legged in order to "proof himself as the true heir of the bat he saw in him" or something. So sure, the leg might be more advanced than most, and it imitated natural steps a lot easier and even made it possible to easily run without switching to a different leg. Truly it was a perfect leg be vigilante with. But he never even bothered to give it human like appearances.

But apparently the Fam didn't notice. When he returned with Bruce everyone was too reliefed to give Tim a closer look and it just never came up afterwards.

Tim thought they just didn't want to ask about it in a weird attempt of being polite or even caring. Bruce surely did enough research on how it happened on his own. The man spend the whole travel back to Gotham with Tim after all. Tim truly believed the world's greatest detective would have noticed his missing leg.

Except he didn't. Not if he interpreted the way they looked so incredibly disturbed by is nonchalant way of handlinh the boiling hot chemicals that landed on his metal leg. He just brushed it off, the battle continued and since nothing seemed to be injured no one pressed him when he said "Must've missed me after all"

Now, how do you deal with a family that didn't notice you're missing a leg? That's right you fuck with them.

First thing he did was buy himself a few more realistic looking prosthetic leg. It had to be custom made to fit his stump so it took a whole but it was a worthwhile investment.

The first one was Jason. Call it a twisted revenge for trying to kill him but Tim just really wanted him to be messed with the most. So one day when he knew it was only Jason and him on patrol he strategically set himself down to fall. Crunching some spaghettis to ass in a sickening way only to stand up and walk away as if nothing ever happened.... With his foot toned the wrong way around. Insisting on nothing being wrong and Jason being delusional whenever the older boy tried to get him to get medical treatment. He switched it up the whole evening, whenever he was out of sight he turned the fool right and wrong. Driving the guy insane.

Jason did not sleep well that night. He was also top weirded out and unsure if what he saw was real to talk about it with anyone else.

Then, he challenged dick to a flexibility contest seeing how far they han bend their knees and feet. Even Mr bones are a social construct gymnast Richard Grayson looked horrified as Tim stood there, food bend almost in half, knee twisted to the impossible and what looked lihe a bend in the middle of his leg. Dick claimed cheating except the thing that greeted him when he demanded Tim to puch up his pant leg to expose his trick was a normal looking leg. The first Robin did lots of stretches in the following weeks. His pride was hurt after all.

Finding a way to mess with Damian was a bit more difficult. The brat still made a bunch of harsh comments again and again and he really wasn't close enough with Tim to be easily gaslit. The kid was a trained assassin and was probably used to a bunch of weird shit considering everything Ra's. So Tim decided he could go a bit more gory on Robin than the others. So one night he sat in front of Damians room, in the dark hallway and waited till one of his pets passed him. Once Alfred the Cat came along he made some louder coping noise that would Definetly make the kid look out to check on his animals. It worked just as planned, Damian peeked out his door to see Tim, crosslegged and barefoot on the floor, seemingly cutting off his toe to feed the cat. In reality it was nothing more than a cat treat and carefully picked, animal safe food coloring.

The kid scremed at him, threatened to stab him, punched him real good for harming his cat and took off with said cat to find Alfred so the older man could check on the poor kitten. Of course not beforeaking sure Tim was in an adequate amount of pain on the floor, with his 'injured' food secured to the floor with another knife. Only to return with a worried Alfred on tow to see Tim, standing two whole bare feet with a confused expression and a bag of cat treats in the hall.

Tim got a broken nose for it but it surely was worth it. Especially once he quietly whispered a 'no one will ever belief you' to the kid in passing. He might have traumatised the boy a little but Tim fought it justified for all the attempted murder he suffered.

[everwalldigan]

Bruce: *waking up in a hospital that he drove himself to after having a heart attack and telling absolutely nobody* hey…

The entirety of the batclan looking over him with Dick in the centre, an absolute terrifying grin on his face:

Dick: hello Bruce, nice evening isn’t it? Got something to share with us?

Edit: the fic is now out on ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/57780508

[hana-no-seiiki]

THE BETTER DAMIAN

“Beloved…”

Damian stared at you and then your new pet.

“Hm?”

You looked at him innocently. Eyes wide in anticipation of his following words.

“I enjoy your competitive spirit. I truly do.” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

How did you even get this thing? He had been keeping track of all your heists recently but never heard of you going to the zoo or anything.

Sometimes he wishes he agreed on Tim’s offer of 24/7 surveillance. Damn it. If only that didn’t mean his older brother got to see you in your bed/bathroom too.

“Get to the point, Wayne.”

“Maybe a panther is a bit too much?”

“You’re just jealous cause I’m spending more time with the better Damian.”

“That’s besides the point.”

“So you are jelly!”

“Yes. Yes I am.”

[ktkat99]

Angst/humor fic idea, if you need a prompt:

Bruce finds out the hard way which of his kids is okay with the 'unadoption' joke threats he makes when they annoy or stress him out. "Why did I adopt you?"..."I still have your adoption certificate. I wonder if the orphanage accepts returns?"..."I knew I should have left you on that street corner where I found you."

Dick fires back with twice as much sass, sometimes rolling his eyes and flipping off Bruce when he gets older.

Young!Jason looks so scared the first time he hears one, and Bruce never jokes about it again. Adult!Jason makes jokes about unadopting himself.

Tim is far too tired to register that it was a joke and gets quiet and avoids Bruce completely for the rest of the week until Bruce realizes what he did wrong and tracks his son down. They talk and Bruce never implies regretting to adopt Tim again.

Cass laughs along with him before pulling out her adoption certificate from her pocket and grinning, scaring him. His kids's adoption paperwork was all stored in a hidden, impenetrable, designed-by-Batman safe. Laughter fades and she just whispers "You'll never be rid of me."

Bruce- Maybe Talia wants you back.

Damian, not even phased- And maybe Alfred would have rather been working for a doctor than a clown-hating, nocturnal, combat furry, but I guess we're both out here disappointing our parents.

[indulgentdaydream]

Headcanon about Jason’s and Alfred’s birthday that is five days late BUT:

From any batkid’s perspective other than Dick and Jason’s, it’s just a known fact that Alfred does not celebrate his birthday. No one even knows when it is.

They’ve tried asking him. He won’t budge. It doesn’t help that none of them even know his correct age so they can’t go off of that either.

“Why won’t you let us celebrate your birthday, Alfred?” Steph asked one day while everyone else was around.

“There’s no reason for me to celebrate anymore. I’ve had enough birthdays.”

Not even Bruce will budge on the matter.

Then, long after Jason comes back. Only once he finally reconnects with his family, does anything happen.

Tim walks into the kitchen one day and sees Alfred and Jason at the counter, bowls around them. “What are you two doing?”

“Baking a cake,” Alfred responded. Tim could see the chocolate flavouring from here.

“Can I help?” Cass spoke up from behind Tim.

Jason turned, a stern, cold glare on his face, “No.”

Alfred reached up and tugged on Jason’s ear for a moment before continuing to stir, turning to face the other kids, “It’s a tradition. Best to keep to it.”

That night, they all sat at the dinner table. Alfred set down the cake in front of Jason, who sat at the head of the table with everyone around him.

Damian was the first to notice the writing, “What is this?”

Everyone leaned a little closer. Surrounded by burning candles, in neatly scrawled white icing in cursive font read, “Happy Birthday Jason!"

Then below it, in thick, sloppy, capital letters, read "+ ALFRED"

Everyone’s confused except Dick and Bruce.

“Why is Alfred’s name on the cake?”

“Because it’s his birthday, too? I don’t see what the big fuss is.”

After everything is explained and cake is handed out, there comes to be a mutual, unspoken understanding.

Alfred had lost his reason to celebrate his birthday. Now, after all these years, he had it back.