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🦇 Robin and Jeff🦈

[story collection]

Location: Gotham Sewers, 2:14 AM

The echo of boots hit the damp concrete like a metronome. Damian Wayne, his short cape trailing behind him, moved through the darkness with precise, silent steps. Gotham never slept—and neither did he.

“Idiotic smugglers,” he muttered, crouching by a cracked crate stamped with nautical symbols. “If they’re smuggling exotic animals into Gotham, they deserve worse than a cell.”

A soft creak. A splash.

He spun on his heel, batarang in hand.

But what emerged from the shadows wasn’t a trafficker or some mutant horror.

It was… squat. Round. It had a tail, tiny flippers—

And large eyes that gleamed like headlights in miniature.

A baby shark.

Walking.

“…What the hell are you?”

The creature tilted its head, curious. Then it bounced forward and snapped at the air with tiny teeth—as if trying to intimidate him.

Damian didn’t flinch.

It snapped again.

“Are you challenging me?”

The little shark stuck out its tongue… then began to run in chaotic circles. Clumsy. A blur of waddling fins and rubbery menace.

Damian narrowed his eyes. Against his better judgment, he let out a dry little snort. Almost a laugh.

“You’re… disgustingly adorable.”

The shark, sensing the shift, leapt and clung to Damian’s leg.

“Hey—stop biting my cape!”

Too late. It was already chewing enthusiastically, as if the cape were a prized chew toy. Damian scowled. But not entirely out of annoyance.

“You're an idiot. But an effective one. You’ve completely disrupted my focus.”

He knelt. Studied it. After a pause, he extended a hand.

The shark sniffed it. Licked it. Then flopped onto its back, wiggling its fins.

Damian sighed.

“I can’t leave you down here. You’d either die in ten minutes or conquer the city. Neither sounds appealing.”

He tucked the creature into an inner pocket of his cloak—the one he used to keep gel explosives. The shark curled up like it had always belonged there.

“You’ll have to adapt. I’m not giving you a sparkly collar or letting Alfred feed you leftover sausages.”

A pause.

“…Though I suppose you need a name. Something distinguished.”

The shark made a sound.

Damian blinked.

“…Jeff? Is that your name?”

Jeff wagged his tail and stuck out his tongue.

Damian walked on, the tiny creature peeking out from beneath his cloak.

“Tt. 'Robin and Jeff.' What a ridiculous pair…”

And yet—for the first time in weeks—Damian smiled. Just a little. Without realizing.

Location: Wayne Manor, Friday Afternoon

Bruce stepped into the grand foyer, setting his briefcase on the marble table with deliberate care. For once, the silence in the house wasn’t ominous. It was peace.

Dick in Blüdhaven. Jason in Metropolis. Tim… somewhere coastal, probably blushing if his boyfriend looked at him too long. Stephanie, Cass, and Duke camping off-grid. Damian at home—with Alfred. Which meant order reigned.

Bruce loosened his tie. Maybe—just maybe—he could have a cup of tea without someone launching a smoke bomb or summoning him to disable a satellite.

He entered the main lounge, eyes set on the long couch. Maybe he’d put on a documentary. One of those slow, British ones about falcons.

And then he saw it.

Something… small. Fast. Circling over the Persian rug.

It was gray, with little teeth and eyes like polished buttons. It moved in a strange combo of trotting and sliding—part predator, part cartoon.

It wore a red collar. With a tag. It said "Jeff."

Bruce blinked.

The land-shark froze, sensing his presence. It stared. Then, with solemn mischief, it stuck out its tongue—and ran toward him, circling his feet in hyperactive joy.

Bruce didn’t move. The only sound was the tap-tap-tap of tiny feet on polished floors.

“…Alfred,” he said at last. His voice was calm. Too calm.

The butler appeared immediately, tea tray in hand, impeccable as always.

“Yes, Master Bruce?”

Bruce pointed. Then looked at the shark.

“There’s… a walking shark in the living room.”

“Yes, sir.”

“With a collar.”

“Indeed, sir.”

“Named Jeff.”

“So I’ve been told, sir.”

Bruce stared. The creature flopped onto its back again, demanding belly rubs.

“Is it dangerous?”

“Only to socks, laptop cables, and your dignity, sir.”

Bruce blinked. Jeff licked the edge of the tea tray like a curious toddler.

“Damian?”

“Young Master Damian found him in the sewers two nights ago. Determined it would be, and I quote, ‘inhumane and tactically shortsighted’ to let him die. He now sleeps in his bed, uses a sand box, and responds to his whistle.”

Bruce crouched slowly. Jeff blinked at him, tail twitching. Bruce offered a hand.

Jeff bit it.

Not hard. Just enough to make a point.

“Hn,” Bruce grunted.

Then, after a moment, he rose and said the unthinkable:

“As long as he’s not trained to attack reporters, he can stay.”

Jeff squealed in delight, did a joyful tumble, and started running in circles again.

Bruce sat down.

The shark continued spinning.

“I suppose the weekend won’t be so quiet after all,” Alfred said, placing the tea with a soft clink.

Bruce took a sip. Said nothing.

But he smiled—barely—at the corner of his mouth.

Because Jeff, like everything else in this bizarre family, was already impossible to remove.

Location: Main Lounge, Wayne Manor

The land-shark was still circling, though slower now. When Bruce didn’t react beyond a tired stare, Jeff began nibbling the corner of the couch.

Bruce opened his mouth to speak— But then came a whistle. Sharp. Precise. Like a military command.

Jeff froze. Turned at once. Fins stiff. Tongue tucked in.

Damian walked into the room with his hands in his pockets, gaze calm. His cape moved like a shadow behind him. He said nothing. Just stood, two meters away.

Jeff was already seated, perfectly still.

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

Damian pulled a small, white, bone-shaped toy from his coat. Jeff perked up—nearly vibrating with joy.

Damian crouched. Offered it.

Jeff took it gently between his teeth.

“Good boy,” Damian murmured.

Then—unexpectedly—he lifted Jeff. The shark made a soft squeak, but didn’t resist. He nestled easily into Damian’s arms, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Damian held him there. Against his chest.

Bruce noticed it—a twitch at the corner of Damian’s mouth.

Pride? Affection?

Both?

Jeff made a soft sound, tail flicking, the toy still in his jaws.

Damian turned to leave. But before exiting, he spoke without looking back:

“He stays. That’s not up for discussion.”

And he left. Jeff wiggled happily in his arms.

Bruce exhaled, set his cup down, and leaned back.

“…The worst part,” he muttered, “is that he trains a shark better than I train any of his brothers.”

From the kitchen, Alfred nodded without turning.

💬 Did this land-shark steal your heart too? If you enjoyed this little Gotham tale, please consider:

❤️ Liking 🔁 Reblogging (spread the Jeff agenda) 🗨️ Dropping a comment (I read and love every one!) ☕ Supporting me on Ko-fi if you want to help me write more chaos, fluff, or Batfamily content: [ko-fi] 👣 And don’t forget to follow for more stories like this!

🦈 Jeff and Damian demand it. And you don’t want to disappoint a land-shark.

[rannox]

The "I've been very personally fucked over by Joker" club

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you know a joke that never EVER gets old is when a character says smth like “I will NOT go to [place] and that is FINAL” and then it cuts to them in that place I eat that shit up every single time

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After the fourth night in a row where one of his kids directly disobeys his orders and gets hurt even more

Bruce is just done

Burnt out, drained, weary; whatever the fuck you want to call it at this point

He’s been working on himself a lot lately. And at this point in all his relationships, he understands that taking away their alter-ego and benching them will only backfire on him.

So he doesn’t do anything

He mentally throws his hands up in defeat and just… does whatever they wants to diffuse the situation

Dick is expecting another yelling match to commence the moment they get back to the cave. In fact, he went out tonight deliberately trying to get to this moment. He brought cough drops for the aftermath to soothe his throat from all the yelling. He knows it isn’t healthy, but he just needs to let out some steam

Instead of their usual routine, Bruce gets out of the Batmobile and doesn’t even look at Dick. You can’t say his posture is… relaxed… but it isn’t wound up tightly like it usually is when one of his children gets hurt

Bruce goes over to the Batcomputer and starts typing down what happened on patrol that night while Dick does his best not to put any pressure on his possibly broken leg

After a few minutes of silence, Bruce sighs and turns back to Duck with a raised eyebrow, his face passively blank

“What?”

Dick shifts and winces as his entire leg throbs painfully. “A-aren’t you gonna call Alfred?” Dick responded back petulantly, keeping his voice low in hopes Bruce wouldn’t hear him then get annoyed and finally show some emotion

“Your arm isn’t broken, is it? Use it.” Bruce said simply before turning back around and continuing to type.

Dick felt anger bubble up in his chest, but it felt stupid to try and start a fight when Bruce obviously wouldn’t engage.

Dick storms off in a huff, at least he tries. He makes it a few steps before deciding to sit down and call Alfred.

“Love you,” Bruce calls back to him without turning around, causing Dick to stick up both of his middle fingers in retaliation.

Or with Jason, he’ll pick his battles and accept whatever happens afterwards

Jason’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Extremely reminiscent of when he first came to the Manor

He had shot someone on patrol. Could he have used his rubber bullets instead of his real ones? Yes. Did he lie to Bruce and say that he didn’t have real bullets in him? Also yes

But fuck Bruce and all the rules he has

Now it was completely silent as they rode home in the Batmobile.

Jason checked over his gun for the fourth time before carefully tucking it back in her holster.

“You’re seriously not gonna say anything, old man?” Jason griped. Usually, this would be the catalyst for a large-scale argument, but there was nothing. Not even an eye roll for Jason's old man comment.

“What’s the point? Not like you’ll listen anyway.” Bruce shrugged, ignoring Jason's angry scoff as he stopped the Batmobile. “Here, your safe house.”

Jason blinked at Bruce, looking at him incredulously. “Are you fucking serious? You’re dropping me off at my safe house? Not gonna allow me in the cave anymore?” Jason snarled, not even thinking to question how Bruce knew where his super secret safe house was.

“You said, and I quote, ‘never wanna set foot in this fuck ass cave another day of my undead life’.” Bruce raised an eyebrow, at least it sounded like he did. Hard to tell with the cowl.

“Fuck you!” Jason decidedly does not pout as he gets out of the car and starts storming up to his door.

Bruce rolls down the windows and shouts out a quick ‘love you’ before speeding off into the night.

He won't enable it, but he's not gonna go out of his way to stop them if he's tried once before

Tim’s sitting down at the Batcomputer, mulling over a case that Bruce said to drop several times or at least put a pause in it, cause it's taking its toll on the young detective

When Bruce walks downstairs, Tim’s expecting a confrontation since Bruce had told him to go to sleep at least four times already

But nope

When Bruce noticed Tim looking at him, he simply gave him a greeting grunt before shuffling through his own stack of papers

“I know you said to go to bed, but I’m almost done! I swear!” Tim pressed his back firmly against the swivel chair, waiting…

“Mhmm…” Bruce hummed, barely listening. “Sleep, don’t sleep. Whatever.” Bruce takes another sip of his tea before placing it beside Tim, grabbing a folder full of paper, and pressing a kiss to Tim’s forehead. “Have fun, love you.”

Damian’s angry at him for something perfectly normal to be angry about, whether it’s regular teen stuff or vigilante stuff? Agree with him

While he’s threatening to stay a week at Dick’s place or even the Kent farm, Bruce is packing a bag for him

He nods and hums along absentmindedly as Damian rants that he can’t stand being in the Manor. Nothing he hasn’t heard a million times before from his children and other non-children

“What are you doing?” Damian questioned, finally stopping his rant to actually pay attention to what his father’s doing

“You said you needed a break from me, right?” Bruce grinned, actually okay with the house being quiet for a few days. “You’ve been dying to hang out with Jon more, go on.”

Jon, who was listening in just like his father always is, was already floating outside with the biggest and brightest smile on his face

“Have fun, kiddos. Love you!” Bruce called out, ignoring Damian’s sputtering as he shut the manor door behind him

——

Explanation for this post

[rannox]

Au where Batman doesn't want to tell the Justice League his secret identity but it's because he's really embarrassed about the things he's done as Bruce Wayne.

The thing is; Batman has spent years crafting and perfecting his public persona.

'Brucie Wayne' is supposed to be a dumber than life himbo, with daddy's credit card and the maturity of a seventeen year old. He's supposed to be someone so outlandishly ridiculous no one would ever even dare to mention him in the same sentence as Batman... And Batman has been acting that part perfectly.

It's a genius plan.

But then the league begins talking about maybe all sharing their secret identities, to become closer as a group and work better together. And the only thing in Batman's mind is 'Oh. My. God. Please don't'

Superman is saying something about trust and how he has come to value all of them as friends. Batman is thinking about last year Christmas' Gala, where he took off his clothes in an improvised strip-tease, and started swimming in the fountain.

Wonder woman is talking about how she wishes to strengthen their bonds so they become greater warriors. Bruce just remembered there's videos of him fucking twerking and pole dancing to Ariana Grande all over the internet.

Flash starts smiling and telling them he already trust them with his life– Bruce once said chocolate milk came from brown cows.

'Oh. My. God'.

There's just no way he's telling any of them.

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AU where when Bruce gets lost in time he ends up helping start the Stonewall Riots 🙏. Like it could be an accident or it could be on purpose but I need it to happen. And then whenever one of the batkids tries to jokingly accuse him of homophobia, he’s just like “actually, I threw the first brick at stonewall” and nobody knows if he’s telling the truth or not. But then like he’ll also be so adamantly against homophobia and sometimes he struggles not to bring it up in conversation.

Bruce: You’re grounded.

Tim: Wow, during Pride Month??? Way to let your biphobia show.

Bruce: My brick gave you pride month so I’m immune to that accusation.

Tim: What the fuck??? What does that even mean???

Damian, at dinner, talking about transphobes in his classes: I understand violence is discouraged at the academy, but surely this can be the exception.

Alfred: Unfortunately not Master Dam-

Bruce: Back in my day, we used to hit them with bricks and beer bottles.

Everyone: 👁️👄👁️

Alfred, trying to remember any incidents where this happened: ????

Damian: Thank you for the advice, Father.

Dick and Jason, getting picked up from the police station for getting involved in a riot against transphobes and homophobes: Listen, we can explain -

Bruce, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye: I’m so happy you decided to continue the family tradition. I couldn’t be more proud.

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Adopt me once shame on thee, Adopt me twice shame on me

Jason getting readopted as Red Hood and without either side knowing about the other's identity would be SO funny and honestly, the question of how isn't that hard to answer. It goes a little something like this:

Bruce, did not want to force young Jason into an uncomfortable environment/places where he could also be recognized even while undercover. Thus never letting him see or interact with the Matches Malone persona. Jason obviously hides his face and identity not only from the batfam but from his employees too. His plans are carefully hidden and any motive besides hurting the Batman and his new Robin are unknown.

So Bruce wants to know more about Red Hood and infiltrates the crime boss' gang to figure out his next move. Problem is- the moment they work together for a longer than a week Bruce realizes that the Red Hood is an obvious TEEN. A smart, competent and dangerous one but still. He then tries to connect to RH, now hoping he can bring him on the right path. Ofc Bruce is still riddled with grief of loosing Jason but the new kid crime boss reminds him too much of his son to stay away from too long.

Red Hood, sees a hard working, well connected henchman and promotes him to a higher position. With time he slowly bonds with this vaguely dad-shaped henchman and is getting comfortable with the mpan's paternal mannerism towards him. Jason learning that Matches hates the Joker's gut just as much as he does, bc that clown murdered the man's son helps immensely. Honestly, Jason's kinda impressed when the man confesses to nearly successfully ending Joker himself and only failing due to a series of unlikely events.

Then offers Matches a bigger role in his whole Revenge Plan, which Bruce reluctantly agrees to hear out.

Jason *presenting the most intricate murder board in existence*: -and Then I'm going to get Robin in his base in L.A. and beat the shit outta him. Just to show him I can, y'know? If the little bird really wants to fly that badly then he should expect someone to pluck him from the sky sooner or later! Matches : ...what if Batman is there? Jason: Well, Batman doesn't really care about his kids like you do. Y'know, letting them run around at night... but he IS paranoid as fuck... and Nightwing could.... now thinking about it...*proceeds to take down the board in frustration* UGH! Matches: Do you want me to bring you some tea while you to think about your plan some more? Jason: ........yes please

[rannox]

Two things you need to know about me

1. I take my crackships just as seriously as my regular ones

2. For some reason I can turn the stupidest of concepts into a somewhat coherent thing

What does that mean? It means that internally I have created a 15 chapter layout for what a Percy Jackson x Telemachus of Ithaca slow burn fanfic would look like. AND I'VE MADE THEM A FAN CHILD! Her name is Penny, yes she's named after her grandmothers—Sally is her middle name—and yes Penelope, Sally, and Odysseus did cry a little (Odysseus cried a lot) when the boys did the name reveal.

Percy: Dad please she has enough toys...

Poseidon: *Holds up a wrapped box* I know she doesn't have this one!

Percy: Is that the Pirate Princess Playset? Odysseus brought it last week.

Poseidon: THAT SON OF A BITCH—!

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The guy I like confessed to me with "Would you fall in love with me again"

(I literally showed him the musical just a few days ago- *kicking laughing spinning in my bed*)

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I asked people their favourite EPIC: the musical song and drew silly, rough sketches about them (sorry)

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Dos puertorriqueños cambiaron irreversiblemente los químicos de mi cerebro y no me quejo en lo absoluto

My entire musical taste revolves around these two. I'm not complaining; I love listening to it with edits

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crying screaming kicking rolling in my bed

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Decided to join the dress trend on twitter

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Ready or Not meme! I finally cooked up something with Painted Sun and I couldn't pass up the opportunity on this! X)

(Ink belongs to Comyet.)

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I’m not sorry that this is my first monkie kid art in a while

OG meme

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A crossover no one asked for...

except me.