Tumgik
#Dick grayson is a little shit
graveyardgremlins · 5 months
Text
Hey, I know I disappeared for a while. Mental illness, college and MEN were distracting me from my ONE TRUE PASSION (Danny Phantom). My head was so fucked up I almost posted an excerpt of last chapter instead of the new one T-T
anyway, here you go:
 "B tells me you had a date." "I'm not sure you want to hear about it." "Nothing in this world could keep me from prying in your personal life. That's my God given right as your brother." "I want a refund. I didn't get anything from being your brother." "What are you talking about? I taught you how to do backflips!" "You bullied me into doing backflips." "Potato potato," Dick shrugged. "So… Your date?" Jason sighed. "It was great, he almost killed me once." "Oh, wow. That's two times less than Tim's current record." "I know. I'm very proud of it." "And what else?" Jason hesitated. "He is insane." "I mean, he is dating you. That's a given." Jason rolled his eyes.
254 notes · View notes
puppetmaster13u · 6 months
Text
Who wants a WIP
Someone meets lil baby Dick Grayson for the first time
🦇🐤🦇🐤🦇🐤🦇🐤🦇🐤🦇🐤🦇🐤🦇🐤🦇🐤🦇🐤🦇🐤
   “Since when did you have a kid?!” He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Gordon so shocked, which is surprising. 
   He blinked, glancing down to where Dick was scribbling in his notebook with a matching robe on before looking back up at the older man. How long has it been…? Oh. “Since six months ago…?” he trailed off at the strangled noise the commissioner made. 
   “Did… I can’t believe I’m going to ask this,” Gordon whispered. “Did you steal a child Bruce?” 
   He blinked again, confused. Did he? No, he was going to go with no. “No?” Honestly he might have more confusion in his voice than the other did. What was so surprising- Oh! 
   “I have a foster license,” he informed his… friend? Ally? Ally worked. He informed his ally. “But we’re waiting for the adoption to go through.” Technically he could pay to speed it up but that would also risk media coverage which he didn’t want, nor did Dick need it. Reporters were like vultures, he swore. 
   Well, actually, at least vultures were an important part of their ecosystem so there was that. 
   Gordon breathed a quiet curse, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, alright, sure, you’ve had a kid for six months and somehow no one has found out, alright.” Well it wasn’t like he liked going out into public so that had honestly probably helped. 
   “You couldn’t have,” the red-haired man made some sort of motion with his hands. “I don’t know, warned me ahead of time before someone broke into your house? What if someone had taken the kid?!” 
   Bruce frowned, nose scrunching up at his own distaste at the thought. “I wouldn’t let them,” he informed Gordon seriously. 
   “How, Bruce? You can’t fight and would get hurt yourself, then what?” Well he could fight, even if people didn’t realize that with how passive he acted in public. “How did you even get a child, you’re never even out?”
   “A big bat-thing dropped me off!” Dick was the one to cheerfully answer, causing another officer to choke while Gordon looked close to having a stroke, looking between the two of them. 
260 notes · View notes
phoneduk · 2 months
Text
[Jason panic searching his room]
Jason: "WHERE IS IT?!"
Tim : "what is *it*?
Jason: "You would know if saw it! Just help me look!"
Dick: "Hey, let's just calm down. What are we looking for?"
Jason: "I bought home an injured snake yesterday on patrol and I was planning on dropping it off at the vet today."
Dick: "that's not so bad."
Jason: "If Damian finds it we're going to have a pet snake. And you're the only one he would trust to feed it."
[Jason, Dick and Tim frantically searching the manor.]
Meanwhile
[Damian in the cave full Robin costume with snake around his shoulders - Maniacal laughter.]
Bruce suddenly sits straight up in his seat in the watch tower, a full body shiver taking over him.
Bruce: "Somethings wrong"
9K notes · View notes
deadsetobsessions · 3 months
Text
Damian Wayne was like a duckling. A violent, stab-happy, danger-prone duckling, yes, but a duckling all the same. Which means when Danny almost got stabbed by a sleepy, instinct driven Damian, he was able to wave it off with a laugh. Damian, on the other hand, stared in horror at the butter knife firmly lodged in Danny’s arm.
“PENNYWORTH!” Danny jerked back at Damian’s scream. “RICHARD! FATHER!”
God damn, the kid had a pair of lungs on him. Danny’s wince was interpreted as pain to Damian, who gently grabbed his injured arm and started to pull him towards the kitchen’s marble island.
Danny blinked, non plussed as his hearing picked up a thundering of feet as the present family members scrambled towards Damian’s distress call.
“Wait, Damian, I’m fine. It’s-”
“You have been impaled, you imbecile! Had it been any of the other simpletons, they would have-!”
“Ouch.” Danny put his other hand in mock hurt over his slow-beating heart. He literally doesn’t care about the butter knife. He’s just impressed there was enough force in there to impale him. “Are you calling me names now? After- gasp- stabbing me?”
Before Damian could reply, the beginnings of regret, remorse, and guilt on his face, Alfred, Dick, and Bruce burst into the kitchen.
“What happened?!”
“My word, master Danny!”
“What is it?!”
“I’m fine. It’s like a small stab. Not even a big stab. I’m good.”
Dick paled, seeing Danny’s arm clutched in Damian’s hand.
“That’s- that’s a knife. In your arm. How is that ‘fine’?!”
“What happened.” Bruce asked Damian, gently removing Danny’s arm from Damian’s death clutch.
“I- I did not mean to,” Damian starts, guilt coloring his voice.
“He didn’t,” Danny cuts in. “I startled him and got stabbed for being dumb. I won’t fault him for having a defense mechanism like that, ancient knows what I might do if you guys startled me.”
The awkward silence that settled at his words made Danny twitch awkwardly.
“Uh, so, can I add this knife to my collection? Even if I didn’t get mugged?”
“Danny.”
“Bruce.” Danny stared stubbornly back. With his uninsured hand, he patted Damian on the head. He was going to enjoy the fluffiness before Damian’s guilt was no longer enough to hold him back from snapping at Danny’s hand like a grumpy alligator. Bruce loses, obviously. He’s a teenager who was also an ex-vigilante. Batman’s got nothing on a determined halfa.
“Master Danny, I must insist you refrain from getting stabbed. There is only so much gauze and antiseptic cream in the house.” Alfred returned- huh, when did he leave?- with a med kit.
Danny called bullshit because he knows there’s a whole ass medical bay beneath the manor.
“Sorry.”
“No need to apologize.” Alfred said, promptly beginning the extraction of the butter knife.
“Are you okay?” Dick asked, hovering worriedly. “He- are you…?”
Damian was allowing Danny to ruffle his hair, so…
“Yep, I’m good. This isn’t even on my top thirty most painful stabbings,” and it really wasn’t. That honor was given to the GIW and that one time Jazz accidentally stabbed him with her earrings. “That was pretty impressive, actually. It’s like, a butter knife. The other ones had pointy ends.”
“Do not clump me with those pathetic wastes of spaces. I am naturally superior and would… would never harm you on purpose.” Damian said, getting quiet at the end like he was trying to plead to Danny to believe him.
“Of course not. But- if you want help me keep the knife, you can hit me with a mug, it would technically be a mugging.”
The pun got the desired effect. Damian leaned away with a disgruntled look and Dick stopped hovering as close in order to let out a small cackle.
“Done.”
“You should go get changed, kiddo. We’re going to see Tim’s photography at the Gotham Gallery today.”
“Oh, for real?” Danny patted Damian’s fluffy hair one last time, pushing away from the counter. “Oh, I’ll clean up here first and-”
“That will not be necessary,” Alfred scolded, a mop somehow already in his hands. “Please see to it you are prepared for the day.”
“Thanks, Alfred. Can I keep the knife.”
“Very well.”
“Sweet. See you guys later?” Danny pranced off after seeing the nods.
——
“He’s… he got stabbed a lot. Before us, I mean.” Dick tapped a furious rhythm onto the counter. “Not that we’ve stabbed him until now but even once is concerning for a civilian.”
“He was used to it.” Bruce replied.
“Perhaps we should join Todd in his endeavor and ensure that his worthless tormentors are permanently out of the picture.”
“God, he said top thirty. He was counting.”
Damian silently withdrew a kitchen knife.
“No murder with my quality chef’s knives, Master Damian.”
“Tt.”
“Master Jason follows the same rules. Now, out of the kitchen. I may be old, but I remember the last time master Bruce and master Dick stepped foot in here and I will not have a repeat.”
6K notes · View notes
Text
Danny wasn't sure what to do. Was this legal? He knew the bats were part of the Justice League and whatnot but surely they can't just pick him up off the street after he got into a brawl with some creeps trying to mug him!
Sure, Nightwing had jumped down to help and Danny, still in his living form with its crappy human vision, thought he was another mugger because of the dark and attacked him too.
Now he's sitting in the back seat of the batmobile with his hands in wierd bat handcuffs.
Was everything these guys owned bat themed? Yeah his parents put there last name in all the titles of their inventions but they had a brand to sell so it was excusable. Batman however, is clearly living out his bat shaped dreams. Usually Danny was all for the furrys doing thier thing, one of his best friends was a proud furry and Danny 100% supported him, but there was a line you don't cross and tall dark and fuzzy crossed it when he kidnaped one 14 year old Danny Fenton.
He couldn't Go Ghost right in front of Batman and Nightwing but he could use the one thing his mom made him take with him everywhere since he was a little boy.
His panic button.
It was powered by ectoplasm and could get through signal jammer with no problem. If he pressed the button his parents would drop everything to come save him. They made sure to put little sirens and flashing lights in thier own hazmat suits to make sure they didn't accidentally miss it. Sure they looked hilarious the few times he had seen it go off in his life but it was highly effective.
So he pushed the button and his parents were charging torward them in record time, the GAV playing chicken with the freaking batmobile. Suddenly his mothers voice came from the panic button, "Are you in the front of back, sweetie?"
"I, uh." He stuttered, looking up at the shocked face of Nightwing before answering, "The back."
"Perfect." He mother said darkly.
A trio of high mechanical whines filled the air and Danny didn't need to look through the windshield to know the buzz saws were out.
----
Bruce just wanted to know why Danny Fenton, youngest of the Fenton Family and son of Jack Fenton and Madeline Walker, two people whose marriage brokered peace between thier prospective mafia syndicate families, was doing in Gotham beating up low level thugs.
He was not expecting overprotective mad scientist parents.
3K notes · View notes
rubydubydoo122 · 3 months
Text
I’m just gonna say this, the main reason people don’t like Damian Wayne as a character is the same reason people didn’t like Jason Todd back in the 80s
People don’t like either of them because their favorite Robin (Tim Drake and Dick Grayson) got replaced by them.
Damian and Jason are both really interesting and complex character, objectively more complex than both Tim and Dick, but some people (cough, obnoxious Tim fans, cough, and Dick fans who over sexualize him, cough) don’t see that and just want their little blorbos to never grow into their own character apart from Batman.
1K notes · View notes
ktkat99 · 1 year
Text
Dick- Hey, Tim. What's new?
Tim- I know that tone. I don't like that tone. What do you want?
Dick- Nothing! I just heard one of those psa's about checking in on the quiet people in your life. Making sure you're okay. Seeing what you've been up to.
Tim- Oh, you mean like getting married?
Dick- ...wut
Tim- Yeah, I married Connor last month.
Dick- What do you mean you married Connor?
Tim- What do you mean what do I mean? I married Connor. Do you have any idea what kinds of tax benefits we get? And besides, he's the son of one of the richest men on the planet.
Dick- Tim, you hold the entire Drake fortune. You are the CEO of Wayne Enterprises. You are the son of Bruce Fucking Wayne. YOU are one of the richest men on the planet.
Tim- Yes. But also tax benefits.
Dick- You forged documents to create an entire fake uncle, but you got married for real?
Tim- You told me not to forge legal documents anymore. What choice did I have? So if you think about it, this is on you.
Dick- You got married. And told NONE of us. For tax benefits?!??
Tim, smirking- I didn't say that was the only benefit.
7K notes · View notes
qcomicsy · 1 year
Text
Jason: You redecorated the league. . . You don't seem the designer type.
Future!Damian: I told all of you I rebuilt the League from the ground.
Jason: You said scratch–
Dick: And you didn't mean literally–
Future!Damian:
Dick:
Dick: Oh my god you did– He did mean literally.
Bruce: You blew up the league of assassin's?
Future!Damian: No, I am not stupid.
Future!Damian: Timothy did.
Future!Damian: Twice.
Bruce: Twice??
Tim:
Tim: You know, I can't even pretend to be surprised on that one. I really would.
4K notes · View notes
ahfrickenfrick · 1 month
Text
tim: *gets pissed off and starts posting pictures he has of his families mess ups in costumes to r/gothamfails on reddit*
a lot of them are different bats face planting into buildings while using the grapple, and a lone few shots of Batman missing a landing and stumbling into Red Hood
961 notes · View notes
Text
Incorrect Batfam Quotes
Red Robin: What do you think Hood will do for a distraction?
Nightwing: He'll probably, like, make a noise or throw a rock. That's what I would do.
*Building explodes, setting off several car alarms
Nightwing: ... or he could do that.
Red Robin: The fact you thought it would be less dramatic than that? It’s almost like you don’t know him at all!
1K notes · View notes
Text
Reading Red Robin is like-
fandom really played like a long game of telephone with this run because almost every popular trope that fanon likes to explore is like taken out of context from red robin
for example, back when i read fanon i would eat up the "Damian cut Tim's line" fics where it's like sad boy Tim and mean Damian and Dick finding out is always such an important plot line in these
but then in the actual book:
Tumblr media
Damian cutting his line is a minor moment and immediately followed by them fighting physically with Tim winning
And the only reason Damian even did that is that Tim was still mistrusting him
Tumblr media Tumblr media
and Dick knows about the whole thing-he helped solve the problem
Tumblr media
there is also the fanon storyline of like Tim feeling super betrayed because no one believed him until they actually got Bruce back.
which is just. not what happened. at all?
Dick is always willing to believe him
Tumblr media
and when Tim actually explains himself Dick listens and trusts him
Tumblr media
Then Tim's characterization in fanon is also just like flanderised version of rr!Tim
Fanon is basically someone seeing a vaguely worded list of plot points in red robin and then making shit up from there and it so funny to me
1K notes · View notes
skirter01 · 5 months
Text
AU: Dukes got a strange new teacher, Jason has a weird neighbour, Dick helped a poor civillian with two broken legs, and Tim's got a bad feeling about the knew Wayne Enterprises employee. Who knew they'd turn out to be the same person? Or... Dannys stuck in Gotham, how, why, when? To be confirmed, although, he's positive its something to do with a certain time-turning asshole. But now he's got bats on his tail and a serious case of the munchies. Good thing Sam and Tucker learned early on to slap a tracker on his phone.
----
Smol Teaser
Dick stumbled forwards, chain rattling around his foot as it pulled taunt. He hit the deck.
“No!”
Duke closed his eyes – and for a moment, he wondered what it would’ve been like if he’d just stayed home like he’d planned to – as Danny descended, mouth split into a feral smile and scythe in motion.
Then, “Bang!”
Dukes’ ears screamed as something exploded, a sonic boom erupting somewhere to his right. A fiery green blast flashed through the air, smacking into Danny like a sledgehammer and sending him hurtling into the concrete pillar in a blast of dust and debris.
Duke took in a sharp breath, eyes fettering over where the teacher landed. His eyes locked on Dick, who was staring over his shoulder from his place on the floor.
“Ha! Bullseye!” Duke startled at the voice and whipped to his right. “I am literally a God.”
Had he been transported to Men in Black right now? Because there was no other explanation for what this was right now. The owner of the voice was a young African American, with neat cornrows and dressed in a suit straight out of MIB, save for the sunglasses which were substituted for a slick pair of black framed glasses.
With a huff, the newcomer hefted an enormous smoking bazooka to rest between his shoulder blade and collarbone. He looked over the room with a grin. “Worry not ladies, knight with shining armour reporting for duty.” He proclaimed with a cheeky grin and a wink, patting the weapon’s steel side fondly, “No, need to thank me. Just doing my job.”
There was a click, and the stranger froze, “Who in the hell are you?” Jason growled through his modulator, stepping out of the shadows to the left of new guy, pistol aimed for a head shot.
The stranger’s eyes slid, acknowledging Jason’s gun from his peripheral. “Sure…” He drawled cautiously, ‘shoot the man with the bazooka. Do it.”
Jason pulled out his second gun. Head titling in challenge.
New guy grinned. “Geez, calm your tits. Names Foley, Tucker Foley.” He reached into his blazer pocket, pulling out a badge. “FBI”
The FBI?
Jason lowered his pistols. “The fuck is the FBI doing in Gotham?” Duke would like to know the same thing.
Tucker shrugged, “Shits and gigs” he said, dropping the bazooka from his shoulder, and catching its nose on his foot before he propped it up against the closest wall. He swivelled, jabbing a finger over at the downed spectre. “Mostly that troublemaker though. Do you mind if I–actually, why am I even asking you?” He stalked over to the cracked concrete pillar and jabbed at foot at Dukes downed teacher, shifting his lifeless body “Oi, Danny.”
Duke didn’t know how to break the news. “Um, Mr. Foley? He’s not–Well, he was killed by something, we don’t know what exactly. I don’t think he’s–yeah…Sorry.” Ever so eloquently put.
Tucker raised a brow, “Are you trying to tell me he’s dead?”
Duke resisted the urge to point out that this Tucker guy did actually shoot him into the wall with a bazooka. He was dead before anyway, but still.
“Obviously,” Jason grumbled, crossing his arms. “Some occult thing.”
“Right.” Tucker’s face twisted into a slight frown, and he nudged the body again. “Danny, stop foxing and get up.”
There was a groan and Duke took an involuntary step back.  
Tucker prodded Danny again. “C’mon, up and at ‘em.”
“5 more minutes.” Danny rolled over onto his side. “M’kay?”
Dick’s mouth was wide open at the scene. “Are you serious right now?”
Danny popped his head up, hair and face covered in dust, his eyes narrowed. “You’d think coming at them with a scythe would scare them off, right Tuck?”
“I told you it wasn’t going to work.” A feminine voice came from the doorway, and a woman stepped into the room. “But please, feel free to be disappointed.” She was dressed in back cargo pants, and a cropped purple tee, dark hair neatly braided down her back. She leaned against the door, “You missed our anniversary.” She said pointedly towards Danny.
Danny dropped his head back to the floor. “Can we go back to when I was just a lifeless corpse?”
Tucker gwuaffed. “You’re already a lifeless corpse, there’s nothing to go back to, stupid."
812 notes · View notes
that1emowitch · 1 month
Note
Bruce, high on painkillers, is being babysat by Jason. Jason has to do an emergency Red Hood thing, and lacking an alternative, slaps a stock domino on Bruce and drags him along.
Bruce proceeds to say/do the most unhinged shit. The goons are suddenly viscerally aware of where Hood got it from.
WOW okay you guys are unhinged, you know that?
(And I love it <3)
A/N: I fully intended to write a crack fic, but the feels crawled in through the plot holes I missed and made their homes in the heart of the story. Also I don't know what you mean by 'stock domino' so I'm assuming it's one of those dollar store ripoffs.
(TW: Accidental overdosing on painkillers, mentions of blood, Jason's usual level of swearing, some goons almost dying but like in a funny way.)
Word Count: 2328
Jason wants to scream.
Like, let it rip out on an abandoned cliff in the howling rain kinda scream.
But no, he's stuck babysitting Brucie Wayne who accidentally OD'd on fucking painkillers after trying to treat himself in Alfred's unfortunate absence (how does that even happen?!).
Dick and Damian are out doing some brotherly-bonding thing, Tim's with the Titans, Duke and Cass are at the movies, and Steph has declared herself "not one of Bruce's kids." Leaving Jason as the only one free to look after their "Dad".
Jason pushes Bruce down on the Batcave's gurney for the billionth time after he attempts (keyword: attempts) to walk again, scowling. None of them are getting any waffles from me again. Or pancakes. Or scones. Or anything I make for them out of my sweet, kind heart. Those little shits.
Jason puts two fingers on Bruce’s wrist, checking his pulse. His skin is cold and clammy, breathing slow, but at least he’s not vomiting anymore. He sighs, collapsing on a chair beside Bruce. He's tired. So fucking tired.
Just as Jason's eyes flutter shut for a moment, the Batcomputer's alarm suddenly blares.
Bruce shoots up, shouting, "ALARM!"
Grumbling, Jason drags himself to the computer, pushing Bruce down along the way. He opens the glaring red notification, brows creased.
Black Mask's goons have intercepted some military shipment...
"Ugh..." Jason groans, and moves to put on his helmet (he never changed out of his costume), checking his guns, when a sudden crash from behind him snaps his attention to the man-child he's supposed to be babysitting.
Bruce has stepped off the gurney and collapsed face-down on the med bay's floor.
He can't just leave him there, can he?
Jason considers his options: He could either strap Bruce to the gurney and leave (in which case Dick will have his head), or he could take Bruce out on the streets with him (in which case Dick will absolutely want to murder him.)
Jason smirks. It’s obvious which one’s the right choice.
Ten minutes later, Jason’s riding through the city at over a hundred miles per hour, with Bruce strapped to the backseat of his motorcycle. Bruce is wearing a dollar store ripoff of the Robin domino and a Robin-themed cape made of Tim’s bedsheets, looking absolutely ecstatic at the high speed.
They arrive at the warehouse where Black Mask’s goons have transported their stolen goods, parking in a shadowed spot a building away. Jason gets off, helping Bruce onto his feet, and says, “Now, I’m going to go shoot some people, you stay hidden and quiet, got that?”
“Guns are bad,” Bruce replies, holding a finger to Jason’s helmet. “Just like clowns. And ducks.”
Raising an eyebrow, Jason shakes his head. He doesn’t have time for this right now.
Jason quickly scales the nearest building, grappling to the roof of the warehouse. He peeks in through a hatch in the roof to survey the area. There are about a dozen armed goons, none of them looking very bright. There are 4 crates they’re guarding, likely filled with ammo.
Cocking his guns, Jason jumps down through the hatch, landing right in the middle of the warehouse with a ‘thud’ sound. “Surprise,” He grins, raising his guns.
“Aye, that’s Red Hood, ain’t it?” Comes a goon’s terrified voice. The others around him immediately aim their guns at Jason— they’re clearly untrained.
Suddenly there’s another thud behind him. “That’s a bucket, you morons!” Comes a too-familiar, slurred voice. Jason turns around to come face-to-face with Bruce, eyes wide. 
In a fight with any real criminals, this distraction would have cost Jason his life. But luckily these adorably clueless goons are just as shocked as him.
Unfortunately the distraction only lasts for a few seconds. Jason immediately jumps into the fight, shooting three goons in the kneecaps and dodging a few bullets. From the corner of his eye, he sees two more goons running out the door, crying. He punches another guy in the face, instantly knocking him out, and is about to turn back to check on Bruce when suddenly something hard collides with his skull.
Jason staggers slightly, trying to regain his balance, when he sees a goon holding a giant stone, wearing a proud grin.
Fuck, his helmet’s probably busted…
Then suddenly Bruce is running towards the goon, hands fisted and veins popping, screaming, “NO ONE HURTS MY SON!”
Then Bruce’s fist collides with the goon’s with a sickening crunch, splattering blood across the floor as the man crumples to the ground. Bruce doesn’t stop there, and continues to beat him up, yelling profanities.
It warms Jason’s cold, (un)dead heart to watch that— to see his Dad fighting for him. It’s like they say, you’re most truthful when you’re drunk— or high. This is how much Bruce loves him.
Then another thought strikes him— Bruce is going to regret being this violent when he sobers up. It’s going to claw at him, tear him up, and he’s going to compartmentalize and end up punishing himself by overworking.
Jason rushes forward, pulling Bruce off of the man. “B— Robin, stop!” He shouted, looking into the man’s domino-covered eyes.
Bruce’s brows furrow. “Robin?”
Jason points to Bruce’s Robin-themed cape and stock domino.
“Ah.” Bruce nods, pulling away. “You okay? Did you see any duck?”
“Duck?” Jason pauses in confusion. But before he can question it farther, he spies the three remaining goons using a ladder to climb up through the roof of the warehouse, trying to escape.
“Stay here. And do not move.” Jason orders Bruce, and runs after them.
He makes his way up the ladder as fast as he can , exiting under the polluted night sky. The goons, the ridiculously stupid goons, are standing around the edge of the roof, trying to figure out how they’re going to get down.
He doesn’t get paid enough to deal with this ridiculous shit.
Actually, scratch that, he doesn’t get paid at all.
“Wow, you guys are pathetic,” Comes Red Hood’s robotic voice, startling the goons, and one of them accidentally topples over the edge, screaming. Jason ensures that the guy’s hanging on tight— he can wait.
He cocks his guns, aiming both at the two standing goons. Both men are trembling with fear, hands up in surrender. “Hood— Mr. Hood, please—” One of them squeaks, but one look from Jason shuts him up.
“Please. Mr. Hood was my father,” Jason quips, his robotic chuckle sounding sinister. 
That’s when he hears another voice behind him (again)— “But I’m your father.”
Jason jumps, whipping around. “How did you— I didn’t even hear you come!”
Bruce just shrugs innocently, waving his bloodstained hands at the terrified goons.
Then Jason hears the distinct sound of a gun being cocked. From the corner of his eye he sees the bolder of the goons, the one that had spoken before, taking aim.
“DUCK!” He yells, falling out of the way.
Instead of dodging, Bruce falls into a defensive stance, looking around frantically. “Where?!”
The bullet barely misses Bruce’s ear as he turns his head.
Jason has had it with sky-high Bruce now. Annoyance rising, he quickly shoots the two goons in the kneecaps, forgetting about the one hanging off the edge, and stalks up to Bruce, glaring.
“What is up with you and ducks?!” He demands, his voice raised.
“Ducks are evil,” Bruce spits, nose wrinkled. “Just like clowns. And bats.”
Jason’s brows raise. “Bats are evil?”
“Yeah, duh, that’s why everyone’s scared of Batman.” Bruce rolls his eyes, his drawl sounding too much like Steph. “Bats are scary.”
“You really took ‘become what you fear’ too literally, huh?” Jason snorts, putting his guns back in their holsters. Then he takes off his helmet, checking the damage— just a slight crack at the back. Not too bad.
“You know, I fell into a hole and into a cave when I was a boy and a dozen bats attacked me. I nearly died.” Bruce continues, gesturing towards the air with his hands. 
“Yeah, right.” Jason shakes his head, chuckling. “Now come on, we gotta get you back.”
That’s when another voice rings out, high-pitched and scared. “Um, Mr. Hood? Please HELP! Please, please, please—”
Jason’s attention snaps to the corner of the roof— ah, right, the goon’s still hanging off the edge, isn’t he?
He grumbles, making his way over, and squats above the man, shaking his head. The man below him looks like he’s pissed himself, face ashen, tears running down his cheeks, muttering, “I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die…” On repeat.
“I’ll pull you up on one condition,” Jason looks down at him, voice low. “Never become a gun for hire again. If I see you fighting on the streets…” He pulls out his gun.
“No, no, I won’t, I swear…” The man whimpers, eyes squeezed shut. Jason sighs, and grabs the man by the collar and hauls him up. He crumples onto the roof, curling into a ball.
“Take out your phone and dial 911, tell them you’ve been naughty,” Jason orders, his gun pointed at the man’s head. (What? A guy needs to have some fun.)
The man whines, and immediately obliges.
“Pathetic,” Jason ties the man up quickly, and makes his way over to Bruce, who was sitting on the floor of the roof, taking apart some random crushed handphone he’s found.
“Get up, old man. GCPD will be here soon. We’re going home.” He pulls Bruce up, ignoring how he longingly stares at the dismantled phone.
The two of them grapple down from the roof, landing safely on the pavement. As they walk towards his bike, Bruce says, “Did you know I ate a phone once?”
Jason stumbles slightly. “What?”
“Tasted nice. Like electricity. Crackle-y.” Bruce hummed, his face straight (as straight as someone dating Superman could be). He isn't kidding.
That, or he's delusional.
“Don't try it. You might turn into a computer or something.” Bruce nodded very seriously.
“Oh god,” Jason snorts. “I'm so glad my helmet’s recording all this. Perfect blackmail material.”
“Black's a very, very pretty color.”
Jason rolls his eyes, revving the motor, making sure Bruce is safely strapped onto the backseat behind him. “You're just emo.”
“What's emo?” Bruce raises an eyebrow, words slightly slurred.
“Y'know, when people wear all that black makeup, skinny jeans, with hair covering their eyes.” Jason explains, putting a spare helmet on Bruce's head. “And listen to, like, My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy and Panic! At The Disco. The Emo Trinity.”
“Oh, oh!” Bruce's eyes sparkle. “Dickie used to do that! He went to a My Chemmy concert once, but he didn't want me coming along.” He pouts.
Jason thinks of all the times Gerard Way has shoved a mic down his throat and grabbed his junk. “Yeah, I wonder why.”
Then he turns around to look Bruce in the eye. “But, Golden Boy was emo? Seriously?”
Bruce just smiles and nods, saying, “Now go.”
“Going,” Jason smirks and speeds down the streets of Gotham city, not slowing down until their surroundings change from shitty apartment buildings and broken street lights to the eerie quiet of Bristol. He can see the Manor in the distance when he takes a hidden turn, straight down the road that leads to the Batcave. 
He pulls into the underground ‘garage’ section of the Cave, parking his bike before helping Bruce off. As he removes Bruce’s ripoff domino and “cape”, he says sternly, “Now, you tell no one of what we did today, got that? Not a soul.”
Bruce just flashes a thumbs-up and smiles in the most un-Bruce-like way possible. It’s a little creepy, honestly.
“And even if you remember this once you sober up you won’t talk, because you swore on your soul not to tell.”
“Mhm. Kay.”
“Good.” Jason smiles slightly, helping Bruce back to the gurney, making him lie down. He checks him over for any symptoms that the painkiller overdose is making his health worse. His skin’s still cold and clammy, but his breathing’s more steady. His pupils aren’t as small anymore, and he’s way more responsive than he was an hour ago.
Huh. Maybe all he really needed was some exercise.
Jason sits down beside his father, taking a deep breath. “Hey, uh… Did you really mean that, back there? That… That I’m your son?”
Bruce’s brows furrow. “Yes, who else’s son would you be? Superman’s?”
A short laugh escapes Jason. He moves closer to Bruce, lying down so his head is resting beside the older man’s. “I just…” He sighs, unable to form the right words. “I know it doesn’t always seem like it, but… I love you, Dad.”
“Aww, Jaybird…” Bruce’s hand moves sluggishly to cradle Jason. “I love you so much more than you could ever imagine.”
A small smile plays on Jason’s lips as he closes his eyes, leaning into his Dad’s touch. Maybe… maybe babysitting a high Bruce isn’t so bad.
[BONUS!!!]
Dick walks into the infirmary nearly an hour later with Damian trailing behind him, intending to check up on Bruce. He’s been ringing Jason’s phone for a while now, but he hasn’t been picking up. And… Honestly, Dick’s getting worried.
“Tt. I knew we shouldn’t have left Father’s safety in the hands of an incompetent fool such as Todd,” Damian frowns, scowling.
“No, no, it’s probably just a misunderstanding,” Dick tries to reassure his baby brother, but he picks up his pace. “I mean, we both know what Jason’s like. One moment he’s nice, one moment he’s—”
His voice trails off as he sees Jason sitting on a chair beside Bruce, who’s on the gurney— both asleep, with Jason’s head resting on Bruce’s shoulder, and Bruce cradling him.
“Aww, Little Wing…” Dick smiles, pausing. Even Damian freezes behind him. Dick steers him away, back into the main house, so as to not disturb the sleeping pair. “Yeah, they’re okay. Nothing bad happened.”
457 notes · View notes
flamingpudding · 7 months
Text
Fictober23 Prompt: 14 - "If you don't stop now-"
Fandom: DPxDC
Rating: T
Warnings: -
If there was one thing vigilante work did for you it was honing your senses and instincts as well as helping you become more aware of the things around you. Of course there were a lot more things it helped with but these were the things that helped Dick realize what just happened.
His back pocket was definitely a whole lot lighter than it had been before he had a little run in with a black haired child. Dick chuckled lightly to himself as he turned around and surveyed the streets. It didn't take him long. The child was apparently still a starter when it came to pickpocketing people, well at least not as skilled as the kids of Crime Alley.
Still for a kid to resort to stealing, especially in a city like Gotham, there had to be a situation behind it. So what was originally supposed to be a little errand run for the sibling gaming night later in the day became now the observation of the little pickpocketier.
He followed the child all evening, watching how the kid stole wallets and fruits from street stalls all unnoticed by anyone else. Close to sunset Dick then also watched with surprise how the kid approached a police station. The kid didn't stick around long, and a quick question to the officers inside as a good natured citizen looking for his wallet, let him find out that the kid delivered all the wallets he had stolen over the day. Emptied of their money but returned with everything else.
He pocketed his own wallet quickly so that he wouldn't lose sight of the child and continued to follow the boy. With time Dick became more and more worried, as the boy appeared to walk around Gotham in a completely random path with no clear destination until the boy looked up once at the clocktower and then appeared like he had a place to go to. It worried Dick, especially when he noticed the boy going into Crime Alley.
Now he wasn't in uniform but civvies and this was his little brother's territory. Dick had two choices, follow the kid and put his civil image at risk and apologize later to Little Wing about investigating a kid of his territory or contact Little Wing and ask him to see what he could find out about this child or if he maybe even knew the kid already.
He did neither, fully knowing he would probably get an ear full from B later. Checking his surroundings he quickly made sure that no one was around as he took to the roofs in his civies. Still following the child as the boy walked through Crime Alley. Finally they reached an old, small and run down warehouse. One Dick knew, neither his brother nor anyone else was using because of how run down it was.
Carefully he jumped on its roof, avoiding any and all loose boards while he made his way to a window and snuck in. Luckily there was an overhead pathway in this warehouse and despite the metal creaking under his feet it looked like it was holding his weight. Looking over the railing though caused him to frown and his eyebrows to furrow with displeasure.
Below him was a small camp. A red haired teenager was holding a toddler in her arms cooking something on one of these mobile electric camping stoves that was hooked up to what looked like a soup thermos. Little ways from her lay two barely okay looking mattresses with little to now ratty looking bedding.
"Danny, where were you all day?!" The teenager shouted once the kid he had followed came into her view and Dick recognised that tone. It was one he also used at times with his siblings and Dami liked to call his older brother voice.
"Earning some money and buying some food for you." The boy, Danny, muttered as he handed over the money he had stolen as well as the food he also had stolen.
"Danny." The sister knew that, Dick thought as he continued to listen in. He had his phone out and had taken a couple pictures already he had sent to his siblings in preparation. Babs was already organizing a temporary stay for the three.
"You need to eat something too! Ellie, Dan and I are fine temporarily living off ambient ectoplasm but you need some food!" Dick narrowed his eyes. Four siblings, three can be assumed as metas able to live off something that's not food. The oldest sister appears to be a normal human. He sent the update of information to the others.
"Besides neither Dan nor me did get caught so far and you said it yourself! Once we got enough money we can get an apartment! Or move further away!"
"Danny. You and Dan can't go and continue to steal things."
"How else should we make money then. No one would hire kids!" Dick could easily disagree with this, considering what he had seen in all his years of vigilante work. But a part of him was glad that these kids did not have the contacts to end up on the really really bad side of things.
"Still you shouldn't do that. What if you do get caught, or worse if you and Dan get the GIWs attention."
"We won't." The boy retorted stubbornly and Dick couldn't help but feel reminded of some of the arguments he had with his own siblings.
"Danny, I know that you and Dan are using what little you have recovered of your ghost powers. If you don't stop now-"
Dick never got to hear the rest of the scowling the teenager was going to give the boy as the door of the little warehouse burst open and he had to make sure that he wasn't going to fall off the overhead pathway at what he saw.
In the bust open door stood Little Wing in his full Red Hood get up and he was holding what appeared to be the feral twin of the boy he had followed. Well at least feral in the sense that the child was yelling profanities and trying to punch and kick his brother.
"So this is where you little shit hide all this time? This is no place to live for a kid like you."
Dick muffled a chuckle as he watched Little Wing take in the stunned other occupants of the warehouse before tossing the kid in his arm over to his siblings. Interestingly enough he saw the boy's eyes flash red and Danny's started to glow green as he took a protective stance before his brother.
"Listen up, you little squatters. You four are coming with me before this shit of a place collapses. No running, no escaping and no fighting back and no fucking biting. You are coming with me and that's that."
Dick made sure that he filmed his little brother's entire interaction with the four siblings, including his very dramatic and bad guy like spiel about forcing the four to follow him when Dick knew perfectly well that his brother was a bleeding heart when it came to the kids of his territory.
Grinning Dick escaped the situation through the same window he had gotten in and sent the video he had taken to the others as the update to the situation. He probably would have to dodge Little Wing later for that but for now he could return to the manor knowing that the little pickpocketier and his siblings were safe with his brother.
968 notes · View notes
deadsetobsessions · 4 months
Text
“Tim. Timmy. Ancients, kid, what are you doing?!”
Danny Phantom smacked away the instinctual terror of seeing an eight year old dangling out of a third story window.
“I gotta go take pictures of Batman and Robin! They’re out tonight!”
Danny thought that his barely healed vivisection wound might bust open from the sheer stress.
“Setting aside how you even know the patrol schedule of honest to god vigilantes, why’d you choose the window? The house is literally empty, just walk out the front door, for Ancient’s sake.”
Tim paused, a motion Danny was overwhelmingly thankful for, and blinked sheepishly.
“Um… for the aesthetic?”
Danny allowed the silence to settle between them before dropping his head into his waiting hands. Tim panicked.
“You- you can’t stop me!”
And yeah, Danny really can’t. In the months he’s been mooching off of the Drakes (not that they’ll notice), Danny’s learned that Tim Drake is nothing but relentless in the pursuit of whatever he sets his mind on. Whether thet might be putting hot chocolate in his cereal (which Danny doesn’t actually mind) or, apparently, stalking a pair of vigilantes.
He wanted to hack into the library cameras? Danny had to hover just to make sure the kid didn’t get caught after arguing for an hour about it.
He walked out of that argument with a loss, yes, but he also let Tim know that Danny cared about him. Danny also walked out of that argument with a new hatred for Janet and Jack Drake and his mind (just as diabolical as Tim’s) whirring with plans to haunt them.
Tim is never ever introducing his new little brother to Tucker. Ever.
“Okay. I don’t want to see you take unnecessary risks, but I’m also aware that I can’t really stop you. So. I’ll go with you.”
Maybe this is like… Tim’s obsession? When he put it that way, Danny lost the fight to prevent this tiny kid from what clearly is the only joy in his poor life.
“But…!” Tim’s eyes darted to Danny’s chest, the vivisection scars still fresh in his mind.
“They’re healed.” Danny pulled his dumbass little brother off the window sill, core settling as Tim follows willingly. “I’ll make us invisible and fly with you behind Batman and Robin so you can get even better shots. You can’t make any noise, though. That camera got a shutter sound, right?”
“Yeah!” Tim’s face brightened and Danny melted. He shoved a bottle of the (incredibly stinky but helpful in a pinch) ecto contaminated tap water into a backpack, along with some snacks and a blanket for when Tim gets cold. Danny’ll be fine, he’s got a Space Core. The cold his kind of his thing.
“Cool. We’ll stay out of earshot. If things starts to get too dicey, we’re heading home, okay?”
“Okay!” The look Tim shot him is full of trust and adoration and it makes Danny’s human heart squeeze painfully. “C’mon! I don’t want to be late!”
“We need to talk about your stalking tendencies later,” Danny said fondly.
“I’m not stalking them! I’m observing them!”
“Uh-huh,” Danny drawled, picking Tim up and making them intangible and invisible. “They’re not a bird observatory and also, even the birds in the observatory knows they’re being watched. Batman and Robin clearly doesn’t.”
Danny felt more than saw Tim’s pout.
He laughs as they fly just below the Gotham-brand of toxic smog. He waves to the City’s Spirit as Tim cranes his head around to catch sight of Batman and Robin.
“There!”
Danny obliged. With Danny’s flight, Tim got much better- much closer- photos than he would have originally.
Danny hung back as the pair of vigilantes swooped down to take care of a mugging.
“Wanna mess with them?” He grinned down at his little brother, canines glinting.
Tim looked up at him, admiration and mischievousness in his gaze. “Yes.”
Gotham parted her clouds in response to their glee.
——
Dick Grayson, AKA Robin, finally understood why criminals are so creeped out by him.
Other than the whole flippy child kicking grown people’s asses and winning thing, obviously (that, and Batman loomed menacingly behind him everytime a criminal even looked at Robin wrong).
Batman had picked up on it first, but the for entirety of their patrol, they kept hearing eerie little giggles and laughter. Haunting them. Never distracting. But persistent. And so creepy. He got goosebumps.
“B, I wanna go home.”
“Hm.” That’s a resounding yes if Dick’s ever heard one.
Maybe Alfred can chase away the giggles and chuckles.
Robin shudders and follows the Bat home.
——
Danny lowered the temperature as he held Tim up near Batman’s cowl so his brother could giggle menacingly. He knew for a fact that any recording device would get completely cram led by the sheer output of ambient ectoplasm he’s emitting. Plus, it freaked Robin out and raised the hairs on the back of the vigilantes’ heads. He tones it down when he noticed Tim rubbing his hands together.
He let out a quiet laugh, enjoying the flight with his brother in his arm and the light of the stars (thanks, Gotham) at his back.
——
Danny: oh, this kid’s got an Obsession, gotta let him do it safely, he’s a liminal from all that tap water
Danny: *forgets Tim isn’t a ghost nor is he from Amity and is therefore extremely breakable*
——
Danny and Tim: doing crime is a good bonding activity
Batman and Robin, who wants to say no it isn’t but they’re literally a pair of illegal vigilantes:
——
Dick as Robin: *cackles*
Tim, learning habits from stalking them: *giggles*
Gotham Criminals: *fear*
3K notes · View notes
batcavescolony · 5 months
Text
*Comic bats+rogues get dropped into Gotham tv show universe*
Batman: *on tv* to all my rogues, you have 30 minutes to meet us in Robinson Park, or I send the kids after you. If you can't get to the park in 30min you're all smart enough to find a way.
Voice from the back: WHICH ONES.
Batman: Hmmmm, All of them?
Voice from the back: ...DOES ROBIN HAVE HIS SWORD?
Batman: yes
*a few colorfully dressed people part from the crowd towards Robinson Park*
476 notes · View notes