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deadsetobsessions · 4 months

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A click. The closing and opening of a camera shutter. The whirr of film as it slides across the inner workings of his camera.

Timothy Drake heaved himself off of the concrete roof as soon as the vigilantes left his eyesight. He swaps the film roll, placing the used one inside of the tin with a barely restrained grin. He’d gotten good shots tonight- a confrontation with Harvey Dent, batarangs swooping to cut the new Robin free- and Tim was excited to race back to his dark room in order to develop those candids.

He climbs down the side of the building, the spelunking gear he’d splurged his parents’ money on working wonderfully on Gotham’s stone and concrete buildings.

“Mom, I want to be just like you guys!” He’d said, and his mom agreed to spare no expense for his new hobby. Well, their secretary did, with his parent’s disinterested permission. After all, spelunking is sometimes needed for artifact digs… probably.

Besides, the moment he had brought up Bruce Wayne’s propensity for “spelunking,” his father had immediately sent him more cave scaling stuff in order to “network with the other successful businessmen, Timmy!”

Tim slides away from the alley with full awareness. Even in Bristol, one had to be careful to avoid the multitudes of goons out and about. The Narrows are definitely worse than Bristol and Tim wasn’t about to let his hard work be taken away just like that. As he trudged home- taking a taxi once he was in a slightly more “trustworthy area”- Tim became slightly lost in his thoughts about the identities of Gotham’s vigilantes. Technically there’s only two.

Tim knows there’s three.

Batman.

Robin.

Nightwing.

Bruce Wayne.

Jason Todd.

Dick Grayson.

His sharp mind, now assuaged from the mystery of their identities, worked hard to match the fights he witnessed to the injuries the prolific Wayne family hid the next day.

Timothy Drake thinks he’ll never get bored following his vigilantes.

——

He’s bored. He’s so irrevocably, irredeemably bored.

Tim had been so excited to go, too! Perhaps for different reasons than everyone else because he was here to observe his heroes out of their masks, not for the Annual Wayne Gala that’s the end-all of high society life. As in, if you weren’t invited, that’s the end of your social life. Bruce Wayne held high society in his palms and Tim is only fifty percent sure he knew and/or cared. Regardless, he was prepared to be a pod-son to his parents’ fake good-parents act, and accordingly suffered thirty minutes of cheek-pinching and fake laughs just for the opportunity to see the three Bats in one place.

They’re not here. They won’t be here for another twenty minutes.

Anyways, he’s bored and irritated. Definitely annoyed enough for some bad ideas.

And Tim might not be aware of this fact about himself until much later when he’s more self-aware, but a bored and irritated Tim Drake is bad news for everyone.

He takes after Janet Drake, after all, and Janet Drake is only after Bruce Wayne in influence and cunning.

And his heroes, his beloved heroes, are the targets of his ire tonight. Tim smiles wider, pod-person smile widening to a baring of ravenous teeth incredibly off putting on a nine year old, and immediately changes course towards the delicate jello squares sitting at the buffet table.

The Waynes will be learning the importance of punctuality at their own galas by the time Tim’s done. He swears it. He even has a get out of jail free card!

Just. A small bit of petty revenge.

Tim nabs a bowl full of the jellos, snacking on one as he makes his way to the Wayne family’s most favorite balcony. Everyone knows it’s the one the family members go to when the Gala gets overwhelming. It’s an unspoken rule that no one else may enter it. Tim slips around the blind spots in the cameras.

High society might call someone a bitch in forty different ways, all hidden behind silk smiles and false eyes, but they’d respect the oddest things.

Tim… doesn’t care. He’s been breaking rules since he was seven.

He sets to his task, setting the jello cubes in the places he’d calculated that Jason or Bruce or Dick might step on. Mild revenge, yes, but Tim doesn’t want to bother Alfred too much. The butler had looked a bit tired earlier. Task done, Tim squeezes back into the party and smiles like his life depended on it.

“Brucie!” His dad boomed, and Tim felt his smile widen once more.

“Jack!” Batman’s Brucie personality bounced into the ballroom as the party kicked back up with the host’s presence. “How’ve you been, old chap?”

“The digs have been very fruitful!”

“I see you’ve brought someone with you today! Well, other than your strikingly beautiful wife, of course!”

“This is my son, Timothy!”

“Hello, Timothy. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Oh. My. God. He’s shaking hands with Batman!

“Hi. I’m Timothy Drake.”

“Oh my gosh, Tim!” His mom laughs, fake nails and laugh digging into his shoulders. Oops. Too informal.

“It’s alright.”

“BRUCE!”

Oh my god, it’s ROBIN. Tim’s smile twitches, barely containing his squeals.

“Jaylad? What’s wrong?”

“Someone left jello cubes all over the balcony!”

“What?” Bruce (Brucie, Tim decides is the name of the mask) turns to his parents and excuses himself.

“Mom? I’m going to go network with Bruce Wayne’s son.”

No, he’s not. He’s gonna go watch them lose their minds.

“That’s my boy!” His dad claps him on the shoulder and shoos him off. His mom narrowing her eyes at him but ultimately dismissing him.

Perfect. By the time he gets there, he hears Nightwing- Dick Grayson, oh my god!- asking “O” to figure out who left all those cubes on the floor.

“Drake?” Ah, shit.

“Weren’t we just talking to him earlier, B?”

“Yes, but I haven’t got the slightest idea why he’d leave jello cubes all over the place.”

“Assassination attempt?” Jason asks.

“Whatever it is, it ruined my running shoes!”

“Dick, please, just wash it off or give it to Alfred.”

“Ugh, we can just go ask him.”

“And make a scene?” Jason sounds eager.

“No. Alfred ordered us specifically not to.”

Silence. Tim grins and slips away, making his way through and voiding the cameras as usual.

—-

“Timmy!”

Tim smiles politely at Brucie Wayne while inwardly cheering. His dad looks at him with stars in his eyes and leaves him to work his magic.

“Yes, Mr. Wayne?” Pod-person smile!

“This is my son, Jason. And this is Dick.”

“Hi. I’m Jason!” He holds out a hand for Tim to shake. Dick smiles at him and Tim thinks he might expire on the Wayne’s ballroom floor.

“Hello,” Tim suppresses his urge to scream excitedly. “I’m Timothy Drake. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Woah, you sound so stiff.”

“Jason!” Brucie Wayne chides. “Anyways, Timmy, you looked like you had something to tell me earlier. Something wrong, kiddo?”

No, no he didn’t. But… they don’t know that he knows their secret. And they don’t know he knows that they don’t know.

Tim acts confused, but then clears up with his expression like he just thought of something.

“Oh! I was wondering why you were late, Mr. Wayne. Did Batman stop you on the way back?”

“Huh?”

“Oh, I know you don’t really like Batman, Mr. Wayne,” Tim cackles inwardly. “But he saves you a lot. Were you stopping crime?”

“I… I’m not Batman.”

“Well, I know that,” Tim huffs. “It’s just weird no one’s seen you and Batman in the same room.” Tim cheerfully ignores the alarm making its way onto the trio’s faces and his dad’s frantic, further away, cut it out motion. “But obviously that’s because Batman’s busy putting on his gear, right?”

“And how do you figure that…?” Dick asks, tense.

“Uh, he always knows when you’re in trouble? He always comes in minutes of you guys getting held hostage. Is his base on the manor grounds? Oh, is it a secret that you’re funding him? Don’t worry! I know how to keep a secret! Can you tell the new Robin that I think he’s the best?” Tim grins cutely up at Batman. Ah, he means Brucie Wayne.

“Sure can, kiddo! Don’t tell anyone else, okay?” Jason swoops in, grinning back Tim.

Eeee!

As he nods, Tim can’t help mentioning the cubes. “Oh, sorry about the cubes! I thought I’d be able to track them with their shoe print if Batman and Robin came to save you guys but I guess that wasn’t going to happen. I’m really sorry!” He uses the “cute duckling” face and Dick visibly melts.

“No problem, Timmy! You should come over to play Clue with us sometime! I think you’d be good at it.”

“Oh! Really?” His words becomes a bit more genuine. “I’ve never played it. My mom and dad aren’t around much so. Um. Would it be okay if we do?”

“This weekend.” Brucie Wayne’s voice suddenly became more firm. “I’ll talk to your parents about it.

—-

As Tim waves the Wayne’s goodbye, he hears from Dick, “You only like him because he said you’re the best.”

And Jason’s reply, “Because he’s got good taste,” made the rest of his night. Not week, because tomorrow, he gets to poke around Wayne manor again!

#tim drake is a menace #tim drake #bruce wayne is tired dad with unhinged kids #bruce Wayne’s adoption senses are tingling #bruce wayne #batman #nightwing #Tim literally dngaf and is waiting for the bats to play catch up #dick grayson #jason todd #robin #jello cubes as a weird shoe print identifier #technically he did catch Batman and robin

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that1emowitch · 1 month

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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.”

#Jason being a little shit who just wants to piss Dick off at first but really gets into the feels by the end #Also Jason didn't consider that to use the helmet's footage of tonight as blackmail he'll have to admit to the fam #that he bought a sky-high Bruce #(who he was supposed to be babysitting)#out into a gunfight #jason todd #bruce wayne #batman #batfamily #red hood #batfam #dick grayson #damian wayne

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ao3feed-brucewayne · 1 year

Text

Light Up (And Soar in The Night Sky)

by Zenixith

“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” Whipping around, Atlas looks his stalker up and down. He’s big, like, super big, with a leather jacket on and a red bat on his armor, right in the center of his chest and a gun in hand. And a really w̶e̶i̶r̶d̶ red helmet on his head that scrambles his voice.

“Uh,” Atlas says awkwardly, because what does one do in this situation? If he were back with the League, he would have to kill this guy. If he were with Cadmus, he’d just leave. He knows how to get away silently, like he was never even there.

But what does Atlas want to do? ~

Or,

It's Atlas's first night out in Gotham since he ran from Cadmus and evaded the League of Assassins.

Gotham's changed a lot in eleven years, but he's gonna re-learn every nook and cranny.

...And apparently be adopted by the city's vigilantes. Okay then.

Words: 1389, Chapters: 1/7, Language: English

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Other

Characters: OC (Atlas Cobain), Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Duke Thomas, Damian Wayne, Barbara Gordon

Relationships: OC & Batfam, OC & Damian Wayne, OC & Jason Todd, OC & Cassandra Cain, OC & Dick Grayson, OC & Tim Drake, OC & Stephanie Brown, OC & Duke Thomas

Additional Tags: This is mostly fluff so, Fluff, Some angst, but not much imo, Fighting, OC is Low-key Feral, OC is a menace but in child, Jason Todd is So Done, Dick Grayson is a Ray of Sunshine, Tim Drake is Confused but here for the Chaos, Damian Wayne is Oblivious, Cassandra Cain Probably Knows what's happening, Stephanie Brown is a BAMF, Duke Thomas is Amazing, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Stephanie Brown is Spoiler, Duke Thomas is Signal, Damian Wayne is Robin, Atlas is Not a Vigilante, but he dresses like one, like a weirdo, OC needs a hug, and he gets one, The Wayne Kids are Siblings, idk if that's a tag and idc, Found Family, this is really comedic for my sake, rooftop bonding, it's a re-occuring theme in this story, OC is unhinged, Bruce Wayne is Batman, he is also a resigned, tired and DONE dad lol, and i have never claimed to, i have no knowledge pertaining to cannon

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/45981925

#IFTTT #bruce wayne #batman #the dark knight #the cape crusader #gotham #dc universe #ao3 #ao3feed

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stayinurlaneboi · 2 years

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Fic Recs

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last updated: April 14, 2022

ＤＣ (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

Batboys

get their wisdom teeth pulled

dating headcanons

s/o going full sass

w/ an s/o who loves food

body switched

nerf gun fight

how the batfam sleeps

batmoms been poisoned

stuffed animals

prank war

“i waxed the floors, grab your fluffy socks”

vacation

jason comes home

jays foul proof hug plan

getting a little sister

bed partner headcanons

damis #1 sibling list

weekly breakfasts

family night

dad they’re being mean!

subtly insulting people + escape plan writer deactivated

all of them witnessed socialite!wayne for the first time and never got over it

the horrors of a snowball fight with the bats

this time mari adopts them lmfao

a bat never stands alone

dami is learning to work with others

pool time

the one where dami is heavier than he looks

the one where dami’s still growing and has an accident

here we are, together in the end

reader has a rough day

damian rotates bedrooms

mandalorian au

fear gas

losing sleep

picking up dami from school

bruce is a good dad who comforts his kids after a nightmare

lex tries to butter up bruce

VIBE CHECK

sm au the siblings teasing eachother via ig

cuddling hc

fav fits on an s/o

you get drunk

stakeout shenanigans

they’re all stuck in the manor

poor farmboy clark

the bats but they’re in quarantine too

under quarentine

family photo shoot for alfred

bruce is v protective (abo fic but its only briefly mentioned)

dating the bats hc

bruce takes a truth serum and talks abt his kiddos

cass and dami have never seen princess bride

quarantine hc

take your kid to work day

more espresso less depresso

bruce gets parenting tips from his kids

do they get into fights?

time malfunction

bruce uses dad nicknames when hes tired

everyone knows that bruce has one bio child but which one is it

jason and duke interactions ft. the rest of them

being bffs with them

transdimentional bullshit

they dont l o o k t h e s a m e

fashion hc

shit talking and shenanigans

no YOUR the favourite

timmy likes to torture his family with milk

baby dami and his cats

the one where they all play animal crossing

family nights

operation child endangerment

water park races

terrible haircuts not terrible twos

touch starved s/o

suburban au

cass interpreting how bruce says ily

vacation hcs

what they’re like when they like you

nightmares at wayne manor

dami gets a nightmare and bruce comforts as best he can

things they’ve totally done in quarentine

what they’re like when their sleeping

playing among us

christmas blurbs

halloween blurbs

autumn blurbs

quote blurbs

how they comfort you when crying

memorable dates

with an s/o that has a snack pouch

stealing clothes from the boys

helping them with a nightmare

falling asleep with them

falling asleep on them

touch starved s/o

tiktok trends

4 times they broke into your house + the 1 time you let them in

warm touches

simple comforts

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miss-choco-chips · 4 years

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Robin and Red X

Just a silly thing I wrote for @animemangasoul. Hopefully this makes you laugh a bit, hon! No edit whatsoever.

The titans were having a difficult time reconciling their easy going, funny, sure of himself leader with the hot mess in front of them.

“Uhh…”Wally, the bravest of them all, places a careful hand on his shoulder. “Maybe we should… call your dad?”

Robin turns to look at him so fast it almost looks like his neck broke. Beast boy screams, turns into a rabbit and jumps into Raven’s arms, because the sound that came from Rob’s mouth wasn’t human at all.

“If any of you call Batman, I’ll personally ensure living hell for everyone in the Team. This is MY case!”

Wally hastily retreats, hands up in a surrender gesture.

“Okay, okay! I’m just saying, chill. This Red X dude has been giving us all too much trouble, maybe Bats could point us in the right direction or…”

They think Dick said ‘no’, but it was more of a demonic screeching.

“But we’ll respect your wishes! Because you are our friend!”, and you scare us shitless, he added in his mind.

Roy signaled at Wally, the moment Dick turned his back to them again. Something like ‘are we calling the Bat anyway?’, to which Wally replied ‘I don’t have a death wish, fuck no’.

They never really get around to capture Red X, but no one dares to bring up asking Batman for help again. The mysterious anti hero keeps kicking all their asses each and every time they face him, always having a countermeasure for their specific powers or abilities, but honestly? He’s not as scary as an unhinged Dick could be, so they’d rather fight him than wait for bathed breath for Dick’s revenge if they went behind his back to solve the case with his old mentor.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Jason hasn’t inherited the Robin cape from his predecessor. Dick wasn’t happy, seeing a new kid using his suit without permission, when he himself apparently hadn’t been ready to let it go.

But Jason wanted to be Robin. Needed it. All the good he could do… the people like him he could help… This was his chance of doing right. Of proving the world (proving himself) he was not like his father, a complete and utter trash that belonged in the dumpster that was Arkham. That he, a street rat, could be a hero.

So he fought for his right to the mask, even if he sometimes felt the itch to go wild and do his own thing. Because honestly, being Robin was awesome, but having Batman constantly breathing down his neck? Yeah, not so much.

So when Dick, now Nightwing, approached him one afternoon while Bruce was out on business, he was both weary and desperate for some distraction.

Which was exactly what the dude provided.

“What I’m going to show you”, Dick starts, slowly, after he’s checked there are no ears on them, ”it’s Robin’s secret. The only one we manage to keep from Batman. What our ancestors saved for us, our legacy.”

“We are the only two Robins, dipshit.”

“Shut up this is a formal process. Do you wanna know or not?”

“Just… tone down the roleplaying.”

“Fuck off, that’s the best part.”

Curiosity trumping annoyance, he watches as Dick places a briefcase in the coffee table where he was doing his math homework.

“This right here, it’s all the information, anything you ought to know about our mantle’s most important endgame. This is Robin’s never-ending mission. Our Moby dick. Red X.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When Jason approached Tim with the briefcase, Tim’s first thought was ‘he’s going to bribe me’- an automatic response after working on Wayne Enterprises for months now.

The second was ‘he has someone’s head there hasn’t he. Am I going to be an accomplice? What crime was this, and can I hide it from Bruce?’.

The third and final ‘maybe I should ask him first’.

His -thankfully sane now- predecessor reached the little nook where Tim had tucked himself, in hopes of staying hidden from Damian long enough to enjoy the mannor’s wifi without having to stand his bitching. He sits cross legged in front of him.

“So. Give me all you have on Red X.”

This was… unexpected, but not unprecedented. The family tends to think of him as a convenient alternative to some criminal wikipedia sometimes.

Obediently (because then he’ll get to go back to his research sooner), he rattles out what little he could scrounge on the antihero. It was, admittedly, not much; any younger hero had not heard of Red X, as he’d been dormant for some years now, and the older ones were forbidden to talk about him by Dick himself. The first Robin had claimed ownership of the antihero, and anyone caught working on his case without his permission would find themself with their life turned around in the most inconvenient of ways before they could even finish burying the evidence. With Bruce taking a neutral stand on the matter, merely respecting his son’s wishes, no one was willing to risk the fury of someone with Batman’s resources and knowledge.

Except, apparently, Jason, because he was opening the briefcase and turning it in his direction.

“Let me tell you a lil story, that Dickie shared with me some years ago. I wasn’t a good predecessor for a long time ‘ere, Timmers, and I wanna make it right by properly passing this on. The true legacy of Robin; the mystery of Red X.”

“I… I’m not Robin any longer”, he blurted out, though his fingers twitched to touch the contents of the briefcase, to go through all that juicy, sweet treasure.

“Doesn’t matter. Dickie gave Robin without your permission, but this… this only I can pass on, just as you can only pass it to the brat when yer ready. No one can take this away, or Dickie loses the claim he has on Red X.”

Jason opens the briefacase all the way, then.

Tim drops his coffee.

Suddenly, there was something way more important. As unholy as it sounded.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When Damian was invited by Drake to their own private ‘bonding night’, he was weary but hopeful. He’d been trying to fix their bond for some time now, so he could not ruin this chance, as suspicious as it sounded.

So they watched a movie, ate vegetarian pizza (Damian felt emotions when he realized Tim knew, paid attention) and complained about their older siblings and their role as Robin.

“It’s just… a heavy burden”, he admits. If someone can understand his feelings, it’d be Timothy after all.

“I get you. There’s also the matter of Dick’s and Bruce’s expectations on you.”

“I have to be perfect for them, all the time. The smallest mistake and… I could lose my family. But I feel so trapped…”

Tim’s hand found his and squeezed it. When Damian looked up, the older teen had a compassive look on his eyes.

“I might have the solution for that.”

As if he had planned this (perhaps he had), Tim retrieved a briefcase from under the couch they were occupying.

“Dick gave this to Jason, and he to me. Now, I’m passing this on to you.”

Damian tilted his head, a bit confused.

“I.. am already Robin.”

Tim smiled and pushed the case closer to him.

“This is even better. The freedom to the bindings that come with the suit. Open it.”

Curious, still weary but unwilling to lose any ground he had gained with his brother, he obeyed.

And promplty dropped it to the ground.

“What is this?!!”

“This”, Tim smiles, cheshire-cat-like, “is the Red X costume, and all his toys. Including, but not limited to, a perfect holographic devise, to use to make people think you are fighting Red X, to clean your name should anyone suspect the truth. I’ve been using it all this last few months, to…”

“Ruin my life?!”, he yells, because it’s not a secret Red X had came back from dormancy to utterly fuck with Robin, taunting him and beating his ass at every turn. It had been doubly frustrating, because everyone refused to speak about the antihero to him, so he had no information on the man to hunt him down properly.

“Chill. I just.. needed to vent a bit. And this suit helped me, which is the entire purpose of Red X.”

“I...don’t understand.”

Tim placed the briefcase in the coffee table and inched closer to Damian.

“Dick created the alias back in the day, when the pressure of being a perfect Robin became too much and he just… wanted to fuck shit up. Unwind a bit. He couldn't do it as himself and lose all the respect from the other heroes he had managed to amass, so he needed a scapegoat for it.”

Damian felt a tug of interest in his gut. He tried to surreptitiously look at the briefcase.

“Being Robin is tiresome. It’s too heavy a burden. Always perfect partner, always a goodie two shoes… Red X allows you to go wild, be gay-do crime sort of thing, without meddling from any other hero in the community. Burn a warehouse. Use the rocket launcher B has under lock and key. Fuck whoever dumb crimefighter you dislike the most up. Stir shit whenever you feel life’s been too quiet. Let go and have fun... Damian, aren’t you tired of being nice? Don’t you just want to go ape shit?”

His fingers were digging into the suit before his older brother could even finish talking.

#my writing #dick grayson #tim drake #jason todd #damian wayne #red x #robin #nightwing #red robin #red hood #batman #crack #just crack guys #no plot #batbrothers #Batfamily Fanfic #my writting

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