#dark batfam

[deaddovedecadence]

What would platonic yandere Batfam do if reader got sick and fevered to the extent that they just didn’t understand what was going on? Would they use this to their advantage?

Oh fuck yes, they would. I’m going to tell you how each one of them would do it. This will be taking place in something I call the sunshine verse aka the mob au verse

Alfred: He’s so gentle. You don’t realize that you’re slipping in and out of reality, telling you the entire time that you’re safe, that you’re loved, that you belong here. You will not see him drug your food, but he might, if you don’t let yourself get better

Bruce: He tells you that he’s your father, you call him dad in a fever weak tone and he smiles, all predator. You do not see how makes the world small, you’re too sick for that.

Dick: Dick is the one that twists everything that makes it your fault, that tells you you’re supposed to trust them, that you’re supposed to let them care for you. He makes promises that you won’t remember whe you wake up he holds up anyways

Jason: Gets locked in his room because otherwise he’d try to kill most of his siblings. He remembers the way that dick used to be with him when he got sick and he is terrified of that happening to you. He can’t stop it and that’s the worst part

Cass: Really likes helping care for you while you’re sick because then she doesn’t have to force you to be calm. Almost wants you to stay sick so that she can take care of you more often

Tim: Got you sick in the first place. He noticed it starting to happen and just kept pushing you and pushing you until you broke because it’s more useful to gently break yo then force it

Duke: Duke keeps you on their lap, humming lullabies and just holding you through your sickness even when you want to run away and hide from the rest of the world. They are the person you trust and go to so this sickness really reinforces that for you

Damian: dunks you in the pits after you offer him a pitbull

[puppetmaster13u]

Mini Prompt

"It's me or him, Bruce!" Jason screamed, green covering his vision as he held a gun to the Joker's head.

"Pull the trigger."

"What?!"

Batman Bruce His Dad simply tilted his head, voice quiet, emotionless almost.

"I have decapitated that thing no less than three times for what he did to you. Pull the trigger."

[litrally]

all the king’s horses, and all the king’s men

One by one. They went missing one at a time, and it took Bruce far too long to figure out exactly where they went. 

read it on ao3!

“Dick always smiles like the cat that got the cream. He's the craziest of them all, with a sadistic sense of humor to match."

There was a biting chill in the air, and the slanting streaks of rain pouring down from the sky didn't particularly make the night more pleasant, either. Dick was squatting beside one of the many gargoyle's lining Gotham's rooftops, nearly indistinguishable from the stone statue beside him through the haze overtaking the skyline. The crackle of his comm in his ear interrupted the steady patter of rain on the rooftop.

"I'm seeing some movement on the upper east side," Tim's voice came through. "But there's also some radio chatter of the shipment coming in through the roof."

Bruce grunted in response. "Nightwing and Robin, take the roof of the building. Keep an eye out for any incoming vehicles and hold off any men that come your way. Red Robin and I will take the upper east side."

Despite his exhaustion from being stuck in one place for the whole night, a course of relief went through Dick when he realized he wouldn't be partnered with Bruce again. They made a great team, of course, but when they two of them worked together, old habits came back. They were less 'partners' and more 'Batman taking point so there's no chance Dick could get hurt. Or contribute in any way'. Which, Dick supposed, was just Bruce's way of showing that he cared. But in all honesty, it had been a while since they last blew up at each other and Bruce backed off. He started encroaching on Dick's independence again, and Dick was getting sick of it. He had the last seven years of his life reestablishing himself as a perfectly capable and independent hero, and he really didn't need Bruce to come back and trash his reputation and self-esteem allover it.

A chorus of affirmations came through the comms in response to Bruce's instructions and Dick snapped back to reality, relaying his own, and he found himself grappling to another building corner purely off muscle memory.

He greeted Damian with a silent nod and moved to perch just above the men they were surveying, Damian followed in suit and crouched on a rafter in a similar manner across from him.  Bruce's voice came to life in his ear again. "We have to move at the same time, else we risk them communicating and getting more organized just before the shipment arrives," he said. "Move on my mark. Three….Two…. One."

As the final word left Bruce's mouth, Dick and Damian dropped from their hiding spots and launched into action. The grunts and sounds of gauntlets meeting flesh over the comms solidified that Bruce and Tim were doing the same, and their timing had been right on. Dick ducked underneath a punch swinging towards his face before kneeing the man in the gut and swiping his legs out from underneath him. He threw a wing-ding at the one who drew a knife a few feet away and leapt over another who's leg flicked out in an attempt to take out Dick's knee. Dick brought his elbow down on the man's head as he descended and the man dropped like a rock.

Dick looked around, everyone close enough to him subdued for the moment and checked each of the exits. He moved to grab one of the men's radios, only to look up and glance at Damian fending off the two men in front of him from across the room. Dick's mouth opened in an attempt to distract them and give Damian an opening, failing to see another thug raising the butt of his gun to the back of Dick's head.

A batarang flew from one of the exits Dick could have sworn he already blocked off, whipping the man's wrist to the side. Dick spun around, bringing an escrima down on the back of the man's neck, looking up to see Tim flitting amongst the hoards of men that had piled into the warehouse with him and Damian.

Dick's eyes narrowed. Bruce wouldn't have sent Tim here alone… not with the amount of confusion they had about the transport details and security information between bases. Which meant…

Sure enough, Batman dropped from the rafters, taking out another one of the thugs as Dick had been about to raise his batons to attack him. Dick let out a slight growl, turning to take out another man near him.

"We had this handled," he said, the words coming out clipped.

Bruce have him a look, as close to a dry raised eye brow as he could give under the cowl. "I'm sure the thug who almost pistol whipped you from behind would say otherwise," he replied smoothly, his actions never faltering as he threw a batarang and pinned one of the men to the floor by his shirt collar.

Dick bit back a retort as he spun his heel into the last thug, turning towards Tim and Damian on the other side of the room. "All good over there?" he asked, the words coming out light and so utterly different from the tone Bruce had just been subject to that Bruce started a bit. Even Dick's words had a mask. One, judging by the way Tim and Damian grinned and shrugged off his casual brushes, even his brothers couldn't even see through.

The only sign of Dick's irritation on the ride home was the lack of mindless chatter. The lack of jokes and quips about any creative take downs or idiotic attempts from the thugs was replaced by Dick's advisements about Tim's and Damian's technique. His tone still came through as relaxed and casual, and with Damian and Tim on the verge of falling asleep in the back seat, they didn't seem to notice the change in typical topics.

They couldn't see his body language either. Tensed and wound up, his leg bouncing and eyes staring out the window beside them.

Dick slid out of the car the second it came to a stop in the cave, giving Alfred a tired smile and a nod when he came to take the other two boys upstairs. Dick made a beeline for the showers, but Bruce's hand snapped out, holding his wrist and preventing him from taking another step.

The doors to the elevator had barely slid shut when he started. "Are you alright, Dick?"

Dick huffed out a breath Bruce didn't quite know how to interpret. "Of course I'm alright Bruce," he said with a smile that was just a bit too wide. "It's not like there's a chance in hell of me getting hurt on any missions while you're around."

Bruce blinked, the only sign of confusion he would show. The words themselves sounded innocent enough, but there was something about the way he seemed to be almost biting them out that was off putting.

Bruce's next words came out low, his irritation with the backhanded tones finally rising to match Dick's. "Are you going to tell me what's going on, or are you going to make me keep dealing with your passive-aggressive bullshit until you get over it?"

Dick's eyes flashed and he jerked his wrist out of Bruce's hold. "Stop coddling me," Dick snapped, his cool façade finally crumbling.

Bruce stared at him "I'm not. I just--"

"You keep doing this," Dick interrupted. "You weren't happy when I started to run my own missions with the titans, you kept spying on me when I moved to Bludhaven, and now you're doing it all over again. I can handle a simple combat op with me and Damian," he growled, "And I don't need you stepping in every time you think that I need help."

Bruce's eyebrows shot up. "Are you serious right now? You would have gone down on tonight's mission. Hard. And you're going to try and convince me you can keep an eye on your own surroundings while watching out for Damian's?"

Dick took a step towards him, fists balling at his sides. "Yeah? Well I guess we'll never be ever to find out now, since the great and all powerful Batman can't handle the fact that someone might actually be capable of doing anything without him." He spit the name out like a curse, rolling his eyes in a way that had Bruce stiffening.

Bruce ground his teeth in frustration. "Dick, I'm only trying to help you--"

Dick cut him off. "I don't need your brand of help, Bruce," he snarled.

Bruce huffed out an incredulous laugh. "You sound fourteen again, you know that?"

Dick shook his head, his eyes trained on the floor in front of him. "Fuck you, Bruce."

Bruce took a deep breath, trying to calm himself against the steady rise of irritation that he had been fighting all night. "Dick, you need to pull yourself together."

Dick let out a strangled laugh. "Yeah, B, I do. And this clearly isn't the place to do it." He peeled his mask off his eyes and threw it in Bruce's face, Bruce's hand only just barely making it up fast enough to catch it. Dick turned away and strode to his across the cave as fast as he could, the silence absolutely eerie in contrast to the heated tension that had been present not 30 seconds ago. Dick tugged his helmet on over his head, fighting the tightness in his chest from an emotion he wasn't quite able to name.

Bruce turned away as Dick strode towards his bike, working on dismantling the minute amount of tech he and Tim had recovered before going to intervene on Damian's and Dick's sector. He listened to Dick's bike roar to life a tad more aggressively than necessary, but didn't shift his gaze from the tools in front of him as the sound of the bike ebbed as it grew more distant.

Dick didn't contact Bruce that week. Or the next. In all honesty, that wasn't entirely abnormal after the type of fight they had, so Bruce was content to leave Dick to his own devices until he needed him. But by the time the third week rolled around though, he was starting to get a bit worried.

It was Tim who really gave in as the bridge between them, like he always did. Bruce caught him on his way out on Friday night, a bag slung over his shoulder. "I don't know what's going on between you and him, but he's not answering any of my calls," Tim shrugged. "Thought I'd go over to check on him and spend the weekend in Bludhaven."

Bruce nodded. "That's probably a good idea. Ask him to call me, if you can

Tim gave him a small smile before tugging his hood over his head and stepping out the door. "Sure, B. I'll try my best. But you know how he can be sometimes."

Bruce huffed a sigh, the words affecting him more than he'd like them to. Dick could be stubborn as hell when he wanted to, and after spending 17 years of his life living with Bruce, that hadn't wavered in the slightest. The words from their last fight kept echoing in Bruce's ears, and he couldn’t help but have a bad feeling about the way they'd left things. Dick was always great at ignoring Bruce, but ignoring his brothers wasn't normally something he did out of spite for more than a week at a time.

"I understand," Bruce replied. "I'll see you Monday."

Tim waved him off with a flick of his hand over his shoulder, his back already turned as he stepped into the cab and put in a pair of headphones.

The drive to Bludhaven felt longer than usual. It wasn't unusual for Dick to disappear without telling anyone for a while, usually when his day job caught up to him and he was pulling extra shifts at the precinct to make up for it. If that were the case, he just needed someone to show up, get him some food, and convince him that 7 hours of sleep wouldn't cause the end of the world.

What had Tim feeling off though was Dick's lack of message when there was a large drug shipment moving in to Gotham from Bludhaven. Large enough that Dick couldn't have missed it--in either job--and that he'd never want anyone on the Gotham team to be blindsided. Tim was lucky he'd caught it as early as he had, or someone could have gotten seriously hurt.

The sense of dread Tim had been feeling since taking down the group's base had never really faded--even when he double, triple, even quadruple checked that they were contained by GPD and wouldn't be going anywhere. But why hadn't Dick told them about it?

Tim realized with a jolt that he was outside Dick's complex, and he paid the driver in a daze before shaking his head and stepping out of the car.

The pit in his stomach wouldn't stop growing as he ascended the stairs to Dick's apartment. The world seemed to be screaming at him wrong, wrong, WRONG.

The feeling compounded when no one came to the door as Tim knocked. Twice. Almost on instinct, he was pulling lock pick from his jacket pocket and twisting the door handle open less than a minute later.

The world seemed to come to a screeching halt as Tim took in the apartment. It was silent, with a vague dankness in the air that indicated no one had been there in a while. There was a half full pot of water on the stove, some slightly moldy bread out on the kitchen counter. All signs that Dick had been in the middle of something, but left. And hadn't come back.

Tim felt his hands begin to shake as he searched through the apartment, finding Dick's shattered phone on the floor by the bed and an abandoned comm unit by the Nightwing suit. Oh, no.

I need to call someone, he thought, trying to take breaths deep enough to get his vision to stop blurring. It took him three tries to unlock his phone and tap the first contact on the list.

"Bruce Wayne speaking," came the voice over the phone.

Tim let out a sob.

**************

"Damian, smallest but no less ruthless. He kills with precision and unmatched efficiency. It is said no one ever saw him coming."

It had been four months since Richard had disappeared. Four months since Damian had gotten a full night of sleep. Four months since Damian had been able look anyone in the eye without feeling like the world was falling apart.

Father had been searching relentlessly, hardly coming up for air as Bruce Wayne anymore. He split his time between searching every database he could think of in the cave and tearing through Bludhaven's streets trying to find any connection to where Richard had gone. It was safe to say he hadn't slept very much recently either.

With Batman preoccupied elsewhere, Red Hood, Red Robin, and Robin had been splitting up patrols for the city. Every night Damian laced up his Robin boots with a hollow sort of feeling in his chest he refused to acknowledge. It had probably been because the suit's original owner would have been terrified to see the state his family had fallen into. But that was no matter. There was still work to be done.

It was nearing the end of Damian's patrol route when he noticed he was being followed. He'd blame it on the exhaustion and the stress for not noticing earlier. Father would want me to call for back up, he noted absently, but dismissed the thought almost immediately. He was a Wayne and an Al Ghul, and he was Robin, dammit. He could handle a tail.

He was very quickly proven wrong.

No matter how fast he ran, or which convoluted route he took across roof tops, the figure refused to leave him. Eventually, Damian managed to get far enough ahead to reach an empty rooftop without the figure immediately on his heels. He took a few deep breaths, trying to slow his breathing, before turning to face the thing that had joined him above the city.

The figure came close enough for Damian to make out the shape of its mask, its armor. Damian went absolutely still.

A talon, he thought. Father had warned him about them, but he never thought they'd actually be an enemy he would have to deal with. Especially not on his own.

The talon drew closer, and Damian's hand crept up to the sword sheathed across his back. He tensed, pulling the blade in front of him and preparing for the figure to lunge at him.

Then it did the last thing Damian expected.

It removed its mask.

Damian's sword clattered to the ground.

"Richard," Damian breathed, his eyes wandering to take in every inch of the man in front of him. "Is that really you?"

He looked so familiar, every inch of him the Batman and the brother he had grown familiar with. God, he'd missed him so much.

Relief went coursing through Damian's body, and he wasn't sure whether to let out a laugh or a sob. Every part of it felt right to see Richard standing there in front of him. Every part, except his eyes.

Richard's eyes looked… pained. Far different than any expression Damian had grown familiar with on his face. Fear gas and bullet wounds couldn't hold a candle to the hollow golden eyes that seemed to reflect everything emitting life but looked so soulless at the same time.

Grayson…always felt better when Damian allowed him affection, was the only thought echoing through Damian's head. Damian couldn't stand to look into those eyes any longer, not without doing something, anything, to fix it. So Damian took a step over his sword in a daze, breaking in to a sprint to close the distance between himself and the Talon in front of him.

Damian launched himself into Richard's arms, and felt them coming up to hold him. He absolutely melted into the hold and for a moment, just for a moment, everything felt right again.

Then Damian realized he couldn't breath. The arms that had felt so comforting just seconds before constricted like steel bands across his back.

"Richard," Damian wheezed. "Richard let me go."

The arms across his body didn't falter.

"Dammit, Grayson," Damian forced out, his chest growing tighter with black spots appearing in his vision.

He managed to free a hand enough to force his fingers into a pressure point beneath the Talon's armor. The arms holding him fell away, and Damian dropped like a stone to the gravel rooftop, gasping to try and banish the fuzziness in his head.

"What's wrong with you?" Damian moans, glancing up only to propel himself to the side on instinct alone. The Talon lunged for him, and Damian shakily forced himself to his feet.

"Richard, please," Damian begged. "I don't want to fight you."

Talon's only answer was a roundhouse kick to Damian's head.

Damian ducked, sliding into a defensive stance. He dodged whatever hits he could, and bit back grunts when his blocks only barely held up against Talon's attacks. It almost felt the same as it did when they sparred in the cave. Damian could hear Richard's quips and corrections in his head, but he was barely holding his own against the barrage of hits.

It was so familiar, but so different. The man who raised Damian wasn't like this. Not this ruthless. No this violent. And that realization ached more than any hit the Talon landed ever could.

The thought had Damian's arm dropping a fraction of an inch too low, an opportunity the Talon didn't miss.  Talon grabbed Damian's wrist, and Damian let out a yell as he was thrown across the roof and onto the course gravel.

A heavy weight settled across his stomach, and ice cold hands wrapped around his throat.

Damian kicked and clawed, twisting his hips back and forth in an attempt to fling the shell of his older brother off his body. "Richard, stop this, please!" he wheezed.

Eventually though, his body gave out. His hands dropped away from arms pinning him to the ground. His legs fell flat against the gravel.

Damian didn't really register any of the pain. He just felt betrayed.

**************

"Tim. The cold and calculating one. He treats killing as an artform and has perfected his methods. His kills are clean, unless he has reason to torture his victims. In which case, he has also perfected the art of inflicting pain."

Tim just felt… numb. Two of his brothers were missing; it had been two months since the last one disappeared, and six months since the first. The only alternative to the vicious silence in his head was to let himself feel the pain of it all and scream until his throat bled. But that wouldn't solve anything. He needed to hold himself together, because if he didn't, no one else would either. And that definitely wasn't an option.

So Tim drowned himself in the numbness.

Bruce didn’t let anyone patrol anymore. And with Cass in Hong Kong, Steph in New York, and Bruce bouncing between them, Bludhaven, and the League of Assassins headquarters, he wasn't in Gotham very much of late. So, Tim found himself patrolling with Jason more often than not.

It had been a long night. No breakouts at the moment, thank god, but the petty crime on the street seemed never ending. Not to mention, Jason was starting to worry Tim. And god, Tim did not have the mental capacity to worry about another person in this damn family.

Jason seemed… angrier. Not angry in the way he was after the pit, but angry in the way Bruce was in Tim's early Robin days. Was he watching history repeat himself in front of his eyes? If that were the case, he sympathized with the Dick from that period of their lives a little more. He simply didn't have the energy to bring someone back from the edge anymore.

By the time they made their way back to the cave, Tim was swaying with exhaustion. He was in desperate need of a break. He went through his post patrol routine in a daze, and felt into bed, his eyes almost immediately falling shut.

But he couldn't fall asleep sleep. Hadn't been able to make It through a full night in about six months. He tossed and turned for about an hour, before letting out a groan and sitting up while rubbing at his eyes. Well, he winced, as the light of his bedside lamp overtook the room, if I'm not gonna sleep I might as well make myself useful.

He headed down to the cave, pausing in the kitchen to brew himself a fresh cup of coffee. He settled himself in front of the computer and started scrolling through the never ending files collected on his missing brothers.

There was an endless amount of hazy photographs, unread text messages, and surveillance video to go through, but it was the blood sample collected from a recent murder scene that was still bothering Tim. They collected the sample in hopes of connecting it to the killer, or at least someone else present at the scene. When they ran it through their databases though, it only returned a 70% match, which, with a system as extensive as theirs, was very much an anomaly.

The stranger piece, though, was that it was a 70% match of Dick's DNA. Bruce had chalked it up to cross contamination at the scene, but Tim wasn't quite convinced.

He then thought back to the location where Damian had gone missing. That rooftop had been one of their handful of blind spots throughout the city. The chances of some random abductor getting that lucky was slim, but if Dick's disappearance was somehow linked… ?

No, no, no. There's no way. Dick would never voluntarily lay a hand on Damian. Unless…  Suddenly, Tim was pushing himself out of his chair and changing into his suit before he could finish the thought.

Tim's bike skidded to a stop outside the apartment where Dick's DNA had been found. Tim stepped off  and flicked on a flashlight,  pressing forward to gently push the front door open.

Immediately, the space felt different than the last time he had visited. The furniture looked like it had been moved, and the blinds on the windows looked like they were pulled to a different level than they were in the crime scene photos. It seemed almost… inhabited.

There was something eerie about it though. Something that left Tim's skin crawling the longer he looked around. Maybe it was they dead, grey flecks of skin on the carpet. Maybe it was the strange scraps of metal on the kitchen table.

Tim's heart was pounding in his ears when he noted the bandolier of knives thrown across the bedroom floor. He reached out to touch them, and a shock when through him when he noted they were freezing to the touch.

The hairs on the back of his neck rose, and Tim twisted around to face what had approached him from behind.

Wide blue eyes met gold.

**************

"Jason is the silent one and keeps to the shadows. He takes no particular pleasure in killing, preferring to get a job done quickly."

It was kind of ironic, in a sick sort of way. He was the only robin that wasn't supposed to be here, that Bruce didn't want at some point in his life. Yet now he's the only one left.

He and B fight a lot less, surprisingly. It's probably because if they actually blew up, there would be no reason for them to fall back together again. There's no more buffer between them, no more support for the aftermath. The only thing they had left to hold themselves each together was each other.

Jason realizes he misses his brothers. More than he ever thought he would. From Dick's mindless chatter, to Tim's relentless quest to prove himself. Even the Demon Brat's sniping comments of everything they were doing to "tarnish his father's reputation." Jason bit back a laugh. God, there was nothing he wouldn't give to hear Damian say that one last time.

The thoughts and memories of his brothers' laughs echo around his head, and Jason realizes he can't quite breathe anymore.

He tries to take deep breaths, his chest stuttering between them as he climbs out to the roof of the manor. The roof had always been Dick's space. His place to think. And he's finally able to catch his breath.

Jason quickly lost track of time, staring up at the sky and alternating between I should stop wasting time and do something, and I don't know if I can do this anymore. He feels something blocking the cool breeze blowing over his shoulder and half turns. He lets out a sardonic but pathetic laugh with an undercurrent of… something. An emotion Jason isn't sure he could identify even if he wanted to.

"Well, there you are. I suppose it's my turn, isn't?" He called out with a bitter laugh. "You tore this house apart, you know that?. It's not like there's anyone left standing here to try and fix it." Jason's voice filled with something thick. "Not really."

The presence behind him doesn't respond, and Jason gets up from his perch, frustration mounting and  begged it to do something. "So take me then!" He roared. "Take me, and get it over with, you bastard!"

The figure still doesn't respond, and the silence is really starting to piss Jason off.

"The whole strong, silent thing doesn't work for many people, and I have to say you're not--"

Jason cuts himself off abruptly.

The presence he's been yelling at isn't a presence. It's three. The same three presences that, when they left him, made his home feel more like a prison. Like a coffin, buried six feet underground, with Jason frantically clawing at the surface until he ran out of air.

So he turned to them, faced them head on, and said four cursed words.

"Take me with you."

**************

Bruce fell silent after presenting the info. The League stood speechless to once side of him. On the other side, Midnighter crossed his arms, frowning. Apollo closes his eyes in sorrow.

Slade glared. "And pray tell, how did you manage to lose not one, but all four of them?"

"From acts of foolish negligence."

The accusation echoed around the room. The Al Ghuls strolled in with assassins followed closely behind them. "The important question now is, what are you going to do to remedy this error?"

Thank you for reading! This fic was based on this stunning art by @whispering-imp! They wrote the italics in quotes + that end scene, and I just filled in the stuff in between :)

[mattiebluebird]

I love how Bruce tells Duke to guard the Cave & Duke goes "Yes, sir. You got it. Not a single goddamm person is getting into this Cave." Like he takes it so seriously that when the GREEN LANTERN shows up, Duke doesn't think "Hm. He probably has a good reason for being here. Maybe I should ask him?"

No.

He DROPKICKS HIS ASS.

[redsray]

Batfam AU where Jason never dies, so Tim doesn't join the family the standard way. Instead, he continues pouring most of his time and energy into his photography, eventually becoming known as a popular photographer for events and all that. So now, picture this: Tim gets hired to be a photographer for a Wayne gala. Obviously, he's ecstatic, because he can take pictures of Batman, Robin and Nightwing and be in their presence for a whole night. Since Tim is so naturally talented in stealth and taking pictures unnoticed, the second one of the fam realises this they're like: this kid is good. Tim manages to go unnoticed by all 3 of them (all bat-trained, one literally batman) multiple times during the night, and even when he is noticed, he disappears before they can manage to get a good look at him; to the sheer amazement of Dick and Jason.

Jason, (very discreetly putting snacks in his suit pocket): i know you're under the table, kid.

Tim: don't mind me, Mr. Todd-Wayne, sir, just taking a few pictures

Jason: right... Jason's fine, and what pictures were you taking from under the table?!

Tim, showing him perfectly good shots of him: these.

Jason: how did you get that. it looks like you took it from the rafters

Tim, nodding: I did.

Jason, glancing at the ceiling: ...what?

Tim, gone:

Jason: no fucking way.

Dick, hearing a very, very faint camera shutter from behind him:

Dick, turning around and finding no one there: what the actual...

Dick, getting the feeling of being watched and whirling around to find Tim staring at him from across the room: ... huh.

Jason, pulling Dick aside: you see that kid too, right?!

Dick, nodding: the camera kid, yeah?

Jason: who is that.

Dick: he's one of the hired photographers, apparently. one of the best in his field, despite his age.

Jason: he's good. like, really good. snuck up on me 4 times already, the little bastard.

Dick: you too? i swear he's constantly watching. it's creepy how well he can sneak past both of us.

Jason:

Dick:

Jason: you don't think...

Dick: no. B would've told us.

Jason:

Dick:

Dick: did he get another kid and not tell us somehow

Bruce: what do you mean another kid?

Jason: you heard us. did you adopt another kid and not tell us?!

Bruce: no?? how would I even?? ... what's this about?

Dick: one of the photographers has managed to sneak up on both me and Jay multiple times already

Bruce: what.

Jason: he also can't be more than like. 15 or 16. so forgive us for assuming you took another one in.

Bruce: do you know his name?

Dick:

Jason:

Bruce: really?

Dick: in our defence, he's very hard to catch. i wouldn't be surprised if he's snuck up on you, too.

[camera shutter noise]

All of them, whipping their heads toward the sound only to find nothing but air:

Tim, smiling from the other side of the room:

Jason: do you see what we mean?!

Cue an entire night of shenanigans where it's just Dick, Jason and Bruce trying to catch Tim and learn about him. Upon finding out who he is and where he lives, Dick immediately asks to keep him as an honorary member of the family. Jason is hesitant at first but at some point Tim calls Bruce Batman instead of Mr. Wayne on accident and Jason laughs so hard he's basically won over. Bruce can do nothing but watch as Tim proceeds to come over almost every night for sleepovers and is coddled by both of his sons. And he can't deny, the kid's investigation and stealth skills are top tier. By the time Dick and Jason both start referring to Tim as 'their younger brother' Bruce has just accepted his fate.

[daydreamerwonderkid]

Genuinely love the fact that regardless of which Superfam/Batfam pairing (romantic or platonic) you're looking at, it's always some variation of:

Batfam member: They're so lucky I'm the normal one.

Superfam member: Holy shit, every single one of you is fucking insane!!!!

[thevoidstaredback]

Okay, so, crisis averted. Both of them, really. Red Robin had not asked or attempted to get any more of Danny's drink and the World Ending Crisis was less World Ending and more World Threatening. Either way, no one is hyped up in lethal amounts of caffeine and the world is in no more pieces than it had been before.

That brings attention to a new problem, though. It's uniquely Danny's problem and Constantine and Zatanna and Deadman won't stop laughing at him. He's also pretty sure that Raven is laughing at him in the privacy of her mind, so that's making him feel worse.

The problem is that every single hero that had been at the meeting a week ago that was not a part of the JLD has been overly concerned about him.

So what if he half died when he was fourteen and therefore will never look over either fourteen or eighteen? So what if he consumes enough caffeine to kill an elephant within a few minutes? What is he gonna do, die? That's not a real threat as long as he only fights as Phantom.

Ignoring the fact that he can, in fact, get hurt to the point of near death as Phantom. It's not like anyone knows that, though! Besides, ghosts run on god rules. They can't die, only fade when forgotten. People aren't likely to forget about most ghosts, though, even if they can't remember their names.

He's not gonna share that, though. Let Batman keep his contingency that won't work because the only contingency that will work for Phantom is the one he made himself. Tried and tested! He's marked it off of his Bingo Card.

Anyway. Heros and their kids/proteges have been trying to track him down for the entire week. He can't risk even leaving the House of Mysteries because the Supers are all probably listening out for him and they can't hear him through magic. It sucks. He just wants to go get a cup of coffee as Danny. The second he leaves, though, the Supers will be on him like bloodhounds. He'd leave as Danny, but the rest of the JLD don't know what he looks like as Danny and he'd like to keep it that way, thank you very much. Being stuck as Phantom was going to start causing issues to his human half if he doesn't get to leave soon.

Should he risk it? Is coffee that won't kill him really worth risking the Supers finding out his civilian identity? Sure, they wouldn't tell anyone, but he didn't like the idea of someone being able to pick him out of a crowd when all he wanted to do was blend in. It's why he avoided Gotham and Bludhaven, actually, but that's both self explanatory and another story for another time.

"You're still here?" Zatanna sat on the couch beside him. "You're normally gone by now. You can't not be tired of us yet."

He sighed and sunk down into the couch slightly. "Believe me, I'm tired of being stuck here, but I can't leave. I can't leave as a human because you guys don't know what I look like and, no offense, but I'd like to keep it that way. I can't leave as I am now because Superman will be on my ass quicker than I can blink!" He whined this time, "I just want a cup of coffee."

"What about your special brew?" Raven asked, coming into the room.

"I want to drink coffee as a human. That stuff will kill me if I drink it as a human."

"At least you know your limits."

"That sounded like a dig at someone, Z."

"It was."

"Why don't you just go out under a protection spell?" Raven offered, "We could cast one over you and you could leave. Superman can't hear through magic, so he won't be able to tell. Neither will Superboy."

Danny thought for a second. "You're a genius, Raven! Has anyone ever told you that?"

"A few times," she blushed.

"Well, it needs to be said more!"

Zatanna laughed. "Alright, kid, let's get you outside before you drive yourself crazy."

Practically vibrating in place, Danny waited for the protection spell to settle over him. The second it did, he was out the door and wandering the streets of whatever city the House of Mysteries decided to drop him as Danny instead of Phantom.

"Who are you," was not the question or voice he wanted to hear the second he stepped into the open as himself.

"Danny," he squeaked out through his absolute panic. He didn't dare turn around.

The sound of fabric moving minutely clues him in to the second person behind him. What the hell were these two doing out? It's the middle of the day and there's no attacks going on anywhere in Gotham!

"Where did you come from?" Robin asked.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! This was really bad! Why did the House drop him *here* of all places? Does it *want* him to die again? It was very painful the first time, thank you very much! "Illinois?"

"Was that a question or an answer?" Why is Red Robin here now?!

"An-an answer?"

"Ah, you guys are scaring the little guy!" That was Nightwing. They're surrounding him! Why is Nightwing here? This is Gotham, not Bludhaven. "Give him some room to breathe."

They did not, in fact, give him room to breathe. Maybe coming outside was a bad idea. If he gets out of this no more dead than he already was, he was going to move to the middle of nowhere and become a hermit. Smallville is a town in the middle of nowhere, right? He'll retire as Phantom and move to Smallville until the people get suspicious and burn him as a witch-!

Maybe moving to a big city would be a better idea. Or locking himself in the basement of the House of Mysteries. Yeah, yeah that's a good idea.

"-even listening?"

Oh shit. They were still talking to him! Now is not the time to panic! "Gottagobye!" And then he was running.

Good job not panicking, Danny.

Part 1 Part 3

[bet-on-me-13]

Ellie is technically Dan's older sister

So, because Dan is now inhabiting a Cloned Body, that means that he is technically now Danny and Ellie's Sibling.

And technically, the Clone was created and released after Ellie was, long after.

Meaning, Dan isn't the Grumpy Older Sibling. He's the Grouchy Baby Sibling.

Dan is the Youngest!

Imagine this in a typical Runaway AU, where the Batfam encounters this trio of Siblings. 2 of them are Teenage Boys who look almost identical, the other is a Girl who looks about 2 years Younger than them.

And then they introduce themselves like this...

Ellie: And this is our baby brother Dan!

Dan: I am literally 10 years older than you! I look the same age as Danny!

Danny: Really? Cause your DNA says you were born only 6 months ago, and Ellie is 12 months old, and I'm 15 years old, so who's really the baby here?

Dan: SHE IS! I'm the Oldest! I'm not a Baby!!!

Ellie: Sorry about him, he gets cranky when he doesn't get his nap :D

Dan: *sounds of incomprehensible rage*

Danny: Aw, he's having a little tantrum.

[catpriciousmarjara]

DC x DP

Bruce finds out Dick is dating Dan(Dark Danny) Phantom

Bruce: You can't date an eldritch ghostly abomination!

Dick: Oh my god Bruce don't be so ectophobic

Bruce: He destroyed the world and killed us all!

Dick: ooooh come on that was like an entire timeline ago. Get over it already! Ghosts change! He even did community service.

Bruce: You still can't date someone that murderous!

Dick: You dated Khoa! I was there for that mess!

Bruce: That was different!

Dick: Oh it was? Then I guess I'll go and date Slade then! How about that huh?

Bruce: ......

Bruce: Eldritch abomination is fine. Bring him around for dinner.

The batsiblings watching this all happen from the sidelines - entertained as fuck

(Later)

Tim: So are you gonna tell Bruce you're seeing Jazz or?

Jason: oh hell no

[shallyouobeyme]

From the Outside

Part 1 (you're here) | Part 2 (Coming soon)

Platonic!Yandere Batfam x Neglected Batsib!reader (GN)

Summary: You were living your life as a stranger in the house you were supposed to call home, an outsider in a group of people who were supposed to be your family. So you do your best to keep yourself distracted from your situation and go on with your life. But just how long will you be able to keep on with that?

! Minors Do Not Interact !

Requested by @sol565

TW: Not much in this one, neglect (obviously), loss of relatives, car crash (mentioned), cancer (mentioned), swearing, coming up to Yandereness in the next chapters. I'll try to proofread and edit once I finish the whole thing.

Last night you dreamed of your family again. It was a pleasant dream, one that had you wishing to keep on dreaming even after you were woken up by your alarm. All of you were sitting at the dinner table, enjoying Alfred’s excellent cooking. The room was filled with happiness and joy, the kind of atmosphere that has you reminiscing about that day for ages. In your dream you felt so weightless, Damian was sitting opposite you as he listened to you talk about your day, an anecdote of you leading to laughter filling the room. Your mother ruffled your hair from where she was sitting beside you and as you smiled up to her you felt filled with love. Around the table, the Waynes were actively interested in the conversation and Bruce was asking you a question leading to a cheeky comment from your left side. You knew what was said, but you couldn’t understand the voice. Confused you looked to where your father should be sitting but only a distorted shadow figure looked back at you. 

It opened whatever would be most akin to a mouth and a blaring sound echoed out of it. Your eyes flew open as you slapped your bedside table to grab your phone. 7 A.M, time to get up. This dream had been haunting you for a few weeks now, the idyllic family dinner turning into an unpleasant reminder of your situation. At first, you had woken up in a cold sweat and slightly fearful from the end, but by now you had grown very accustomed to it. Just another part of your day to get through. 

You accepted to pay the mental price for the opportunity to see your mother again, if only during the nights. 

Another look at your phone to check the notifications and you got up and got dressed. Given the time you knew that you still had enough time to join your adopted siblings for breakfast, but even Alfred's amazing pancakes and french toast could to move you into the kitchen. Deciding to just nap something from your friends during lunch break at school, you grabbed your bag and jacket before quickly making your way through the manor. Like almost every morning you silently prayed that you wouldn’t come across anyone on your way to the front door. Eighty per cent of the time you were lucky, fifteen per cent you were just ignored and the other five per cent you found yourself stuck in painfully awkward small talk with the people who lived on the same floor as you. People who were supposed to be your closest friends and confidants. People who weren’t that. People who were more akin to strangers.

Today you were in luck as you managed to slip out of the giant house you hated to call home without having to talk to anyone. Getting onto your scooter, you made your way to the school, enjoying the air in your face through the helmet and the feeling of freedom that only came to you on rare occasions. 

The school was still fairly empty when you arrived - as was expected - so you had the honour of walking through the empty halls like you owned the place. A sentiment that some of your schoolmates even believed. You wanted to tell them that you had no need for your Guardians money, no interest in his family’s name or his family’s reputation. Bitter thoughts filled your mind, leaving a taste of anger, of disappointment, of anguish on your tongue. They weren’t helped by what you saw when you stopped in front of the trophy showcase. There were pictures of some of the best former student-athletes that had attended the school, and the most recognizable was a picture that was proudly displayed right on eyesight. It was at a sporting event that had happened some twenty to thirty years earlier, one that was still held bi-annually. The winners of different disciplines were smiling proudly into the camera, arms around each other. 

Taking the spotlight was a man that every proud Gothamite would recognize as a young Bruce Wayne on one side, a different boy who people tended to overlook based on his less noticeable features and the lack of fame he had, and in the middle of both of them stood Bruce’s former best friend. Your mother. Your late mother. 

She had been a beautiful, stunning, talented woman. Everyone who had ever known her told you that. You tried to take some solace in the fact that they told you how alike the two of you were, both in looks and in personality. It did nothing to quell the underlying pain though, the pain still boiling inside you, pain that over the years had turned into anger. You weren’t angry with your mother, of course, you knew that she had not chosen to fall sick, that she had not chosen to succumb to cancer. She had loved you with all her heart and only ever wanted you to be happy. This is why, when your grandparents died in a shooting shortly after her diagnosis, she put it in her will that after her passing you were to be taken care of by her lifelong friend Bruce Wayne. After all, he already had kids and he was rich, just like she and her parents had been - money and estates that now waited on you to turn 18 to take charge of - and he’d be surely able to give you the life and the love she always wanted you to have. 

Sadly, your mother had not known Bruce quite as well as she had believed she did. She had no idea that he spent his nights as the infamous Batman, or that the kids he adopted had been turned into fighting machines - sometimes even killers. She had no idea that he was not the amazing, loving and attentive father figure she had wanted you to have. Not even close. 

You suppose he had tried at one point. When you were a young child, grieving the loss of your entire family and everything that you had known, he had taken you in like one of his own and assured you that from then on he’d protect you. Back then you had believed him. After all, your mother had told you so many great things about him, why should she lie. And with elder brothers and sisters, a Butler who made sure you had your favourite foods whenever you felt sad and a man who tried his best to be the father you never had. They did lots of work to spend time with you and to pay attention to you which would ensure you wouldn’t notice their weird habits and absences. But of course that couldn’t work forever. After a few months, you found out about their best (and somehow at the same time worst) kept secret and as you walked through the Batcave by Bruce’s side everything changed. He didn’t directly offer to train you, but he did insinuate that it was an option, though you declined. You couldn’t see yourself hurting others. You wanted to help like your mom had helped, by volunteering, bettering the world peacefully. Bruce had assured you that that was a completely acceptable decision and that it wouldn’t change anything. But he had lied. Perhaps knowingly, perhaps not. Maybe some of both. 

Once you were aware of their second life, they didn’t put in the effort to pay enough attention to you to make you unaware of their secret. At first, they still spent time with you, but over time it seemed like you were blending into obscurity like a special bottle of champagne that was planned to be open on a special occasion only. Just that the bottle was usually remembered after the occasion had passed in annoyance. You weren’t. And as you phased out of their minds and into oblivion, you made peace with your place in the family. An outsider, a stranger inside their house, just waiting until the time had come for you to finally live your own life. 

Of course, you knew you could have it worse. You had enough money to fulfil every wish you had as long as it was material, always had something to wear, something to eat, and somewhere to sleep. The only thing you didn’t have was love. But especially in Gotham you knew that you got away rather luckily with that, so while you were deeply angry towards the people who had promised to treat you like family, to love you, you also tried to just get on with your life. 

It would have been easier if it wasn’t just so hard to look at your so-called siblings as if you didn’t resent them for the way they treated you, compared to one another. Somehow showing any interest in you or attempting to spend any time with you was a chore, but somehow Jason and Cass could have a little book club, Jason and Dick could go out for lunch at a cat-cafe, Steph, Cass and Tim could have Spa-days and all of them could have an occasional movie night together. It wasn’t explicitly stated that you weren’t welcome, but you had seen how they acted when you were with them compared to how they acted when you were hiding behind the door listening in. They seemed so much happier without you. As if your mere presence ruined the mood. So you started rejecting their invitations to join and it only took one of two attempts of them to stop asking completely. 

You might have been able to cope better with the obvious dismissal of your existence if it had been because you hadn’t been part of the family when they had forged their close bond, but somehow, even when Damian joined, acting like a complete asshole to everyone around him, they managed to include him and when he warmed up to them he joined their close group. 

So your newness surely could not have been that big of an issue right? Even Damian, completely new to the family and surely aggressive towards all of his pseudo siblings, seemed to know you were less than the others since he didn’t even bother to insult you, instead opting to ignore you. Completely. A glance spared, looking you up and down, and he had decided you were not worth it and his opinion seemingly still hadn’t changed. Sure by now you had talked with him a few times, but you could say the same about the fucking mayor of Gotham so you were sure that did not really count. 

Sometimes, you lay in your bed at night, wide awake, wondering just why you were worth so much less in their eyes. What you had done wrong. Two answers usually presented themselves before you. Either it was because you weren’t a vigilante, something that you might even have been willing to accept, or it was… you. Just you. And for some reason, that was the answer that seemed more plausible to you. Maybe you were just unpleasant to be around, not fitting enough for their family. Not interesting enough, not Wayne enough. 

And so you were cursed to live your life like a ghost in what is supposed to be your home. Going in and out every day, just waiting for the day to come when you could move into the penthouse your grandparents had bought you before they died, which would become your legal property in just a few years. You’d start anew. Maybe one day, after a long time and probably a lot of therapy, you’ll be able to start your own family. One that you’d promise not to fuck up like Bruce had. Until then though, you’d go on like always, spend as little time in that Manor as possible and try to distract yourself from your reality. 

You really did spend very little time at the manor. For one, no one in that house cared when you left or when you came back except maybe Alfred, but even he either knew that you could properly use the freedom or he was too busy to care. Probably a mix of both. And along with that, you had started a very active life outside of your family. You had a lot of friends, though you were not ready to call any of them close friends, always knowing about how many of them were after the publicity of your actual and current family name and the money and fame connected to it. But they were nice enough and they distracted you so you didn’t mind. Especially because you used said popularity to help the people in town. You managed to get a lot of your friends to volunteer alongside you in different homeless shelters, though a lot of them tended to post dozens of pictures which made you feel a bit icky about them trying to profit from helping others, but you knew you couldn’t complain because it did help the shelters. The shelters told you so themselves. 

Most of your ‘pocket money’ was donated and the rest of the time was spent doing different activities, be it arts, sports, parties or just wasting the day away. You did your best to cram as much into your day-to-day life as you could to keep you from thinking too much. To stop you from thinking too much about how messed up you were now, how you couldn’t even confide in any of your friends, how you didn’t even really manage to call them your friends, because you couldn’t allow yourself to let anyone close to you anymore, because you knew you weren’t worth it, because you knew you’d be disappointed and hurt again. 

These dark thoughts were kept inside, slowly eating at you like termites, while on the outside you kept on being the happy-go-lucky Gotham personality that people loved to follow. Though you didn’t post a lot on your own social media, your friends and people around you did, which the public loved for some reason. And so you kept up the act, because what else could you do? Let people know you’re hurting? So they could ridicule you for your rich people's problems? Or keep out of the public eye? And have to face the lonely darkness that was your life? No, you’d rather keep on pretending like you had been for years now. Even if it meant being a piece of entertainment for other people who could turn on you at any second. 

The day at school was mostly uneventful, only a short moment of passing by Damian ruined your mood as your classmates did their usual shtick of asking if that wasn’t your brother and you trying to shrug them off, after all, how do you explain that your brother treated you like air not worth breathing? So you changed the topic by announcing that you’d go help out at a local shelter after school and asked if anyone wanted to join. Some excused themselves but a few agreed, which led to a group of five of you coming into the shelter a few hours later after some mandatory selfies so keep your friends placated. There was a bit more traffic inside than usual - a few people definitely not in need of help - which was probably because one of your friends posted your plans on their socials. That was something that you had to begrudgingly accept. You couldn’t afford their anger, so you made a compromise with them that they could post stuff like that, but that they couldn’t post the exact location (which in your opinion was just common sense, but it seemed not a lot of people shared that).

Ignoring the people only there to see you or be near a Wayne, you focused on helping those who needed your help, though aware of the effect you could have on the shelter business, you helped out in the kitchen where people couldn’t see you. You didn’t mind, you liked cooking and you and the fellow kitchen staff had a sort of harmonized rhythm. It even helped you get lost in thoughts that didn’t make you wanna cry, so when you got interrupted in your flow, you almost jumped in shock. One of the organizers had tapped on your shoulder. 

“Y/N, there’s a man outside that wants to talk to you,” Marcus told you and nodded towards the door to the front.

“They still haven’t left? I’m really sorry Marc, if you think it’s better if I leave, then I will,” you sighed, annoyed by the turn of events. 

“No, it’s not a fan. At least I think, he’s- well, he claims to have something really important to talk to you about. He gave me this to show to you, said it’ll show you he’s serious,” Marcus shrugged and held a picture out to you. It was an old Polaroid of a young couple smiling into the camera. Your breath hitched. 

“Is he the guy in the picture?” you asked with a newly found seriousness.

“Yes, at least he looks like it. Is the woman-”

“Yeah, could we use the office? Only if you’re okay with it, of course.”

“Sure, no problem, go ahead, I’ll bring him to you in a minute.”

“Thank you,” you earnestly smiled at Marcus as you made your way to the door that led to the office. You were used to being nervous, but not quite as nervous as you were then. This could change a lot of things, everything if it was what you imagined it to be. You looked at the picture in your hand again before sitting down behind the desk and putting it down on the desk. There were steps behind the door coming closer, so you took a deep breath as you wiped your hands on your pant legs. The door opened and in came a man who looked just like the guy from the Polaroid. He seemed familiar, not just from that snapshot of the past, but something in his face rang a bell in your memories. You mustered him, trying to keep a stern exterior as you didn’t know if this was going to be what you thought it would be. 

Marcus gestured the man to sit down on the other side of the desk, before giving you an encouraging nod and closing the door as he left. 

“Hello,” you greeted the man, hands intertwined before you on the desk.

“Hello,” he responded alike and you could feel his curiosity burning through you. Had you misinterpreted this? Was this just another weird fan?

“This picture,” you looked at it again before sliding it towards him, “how do you know my mom?”

A/N: So, what do y'all think? Let me know in the comments or in my inbox ❤️ Also, I'd appreciate feedback on the title as well, not sure if I should change it or keep it.

[deaddovedecadence]

Title: Puppies

Warning(s): manipulation, yandere shit, yelling

Summery: after a fight with bruce, duke brings you a gift (but not is all that is seems to be)

Bruce is a dick when he’s angry, but he never yells and that’s the worst part. He takes, takes everything that you are and makes you feel so small, and sometimes you think that this is what Jason run, because if he had to deal with this when he was young then why wouldn’t he.

You’ve curled up in your bathroom, the room door that locks, and you’ve rested yourself against it, not thinking about how you’re breaking another rules because there are so many rules and you always seem to fuck up even on the days that you're trying to be good. There is not good enough for them, there is nothing you can do to get your freedom because they are all faster, stronger, smarter then you are. They've done a millions times and you've never been held hostage and been told that it's for love.

this is nopt love, this is possession and you do not want possession. Does freedom even exist for you, made something that you didn't used to be by them, because of them.

"Hey," there's a voice from outside the door, pulling you away from the spiral that you've sunken into. You don't respond to the voice even though you know that it's just Duke, Duke the only person not to raise his hands againt you, never cruel, always patient, always kind. It was with him that you meant to go on a outing with but now, you don't want to leave this bathroom, because at least it is safe in the bathroom.

There's a soft rapping sound and Duke sighs, "I heard that Bruce lost his mind, huh? That probably really sucked." He's making an understatement and you both know it but Duke is gentle anyways, (a predator) coaxing you out of your hiding spot. "Tell me what happened and I'll give you a surprise." he says, and Duke's surprises are always good so you start.

"I didn't know that bruce didn't know about our outing," you whisper, "i was waiting on the front step and he saw and he lost it. Duke, am I really nothing without you?" There's a hissed out sigh from Duke, "You know that Bruce gets anxious about us, right? Specially you an Jase cause you're new and Jase is fresh home. He didn't mean to." You know that and yet, it's not enough right now. "I told you what happened," you snap, "so give me my surprise now."

Your (not a) brother laughs, "only if you unlock the door and come out.” You unlock the door, slowly opening it. It’s duke and he’s holding something, well two something’s actually. He’s holding what look like twin Rottie puppies and they’re so cute. “I thought you’d like to have someone besides me and Jase. You take one of them and coo and it. “Whats their name?” You mumble, holding the puppy tight across your chest. “I thought it might be funny to name them Shadow and sunshine. I’d take shadow, she’s a girl, and you could have sunshine, he’s a boy .” You croon and Sunshine with his black fur and bright blue eyes. “They’re perfect. thank you duke.”

Duke smiles, “and because they are puppies, we get to go to training together so more outings.” You grin at him, crooning at the say that sunshine yawns. “Can he sleep here?” You murmur, and Duke nods.

“Thank you Duke,”

“Welcome Sunshine.”

-

Bruce is getting some work done with his son storms into his office, eyes glowing in way that they only do when he’s angry. “What’s wrong?” he says, and Duke hisses, that sound more animal then anything a normal human could make.

“You really had to fuck up all my progress with them? I got sunshine to the point of not wanting to escape and you nearly ruined all that because you’re scared.” Bruce stands, staring at duke. “I did not know,” he snaps, “I did not know and I didn’t mean to.”

His son laughs, the sound cold. “I know that but that doesn’t mean you ruin all my fuckin progress with Sushine cause you a paranoid motherfucker.” Some of Duke’s gotham is slipping into his accent as he speaks, never yelling but obvious furious. There’s a knock on the door, and Dick slips in, looking at the two of them before sighing, “just go spar it out and you’ll feel better.” Duke slips out of the room, tiling his head in a way that means follow so bruce follows.

Author’s note: Duke is such a scary yandere to me bc this man really be bending you in ways that you can’t even notice. Yes the dog was a plot to get you to stay with them and not run. Duke genuinely does not care what he has to do to protect his family and I think that he’s so real for that /j

[puppetmaster13u]

Howdy, who wants a WIP of my dark-ish dragon batfam that I mentioned and rambled about? I am also open to answering questions and doing even more rambles lol.

Warnings for some gore and such :] Also Tim's lacking self confidence and general unreliable narrator-ness when it comes to everyone.

   “Shh… it’s alright Timmy… you’re okay…” 

   Tim shuddered at the familiar voice, now tilted by a growling croon as fingers- claws- ran through his hair. He hiccuped slightly, the grip on him tightening and tucking him closer to a scaled form. 

    “You’re okay,” Dick crooned again, continuing to run fingers through his hair. “Dad will be back soon, won’t that be nice, Timmy?” 

   Scales scraped against his clothes as the older vigilante nuzzled against him, grip gentle but oh so possessive. He couldn’t tear free if he tried- and oh he had, he’d tried to run a few different times even with his broken leg, until he was no longer left alone. 

   Tim blinked back tears, trying to stop his heart from pounding against his chest as a thumb rubbed against his wrist. He’d never thought that his life would end up like this, cradled in the nest of things no longer pretending to be human. Trapped with no way out. 

   “Shh…” the shushing was more like a hiss, Dick’s cheek rubbing against his cheek as he failed to keep the tears from falling. “It’s alright Timmy, you’re going to be okay, alright? Sh, you’re just a little baby, it’s alright to feel overwhelmed…” 

   He shook his head, unable to make his tongue work or his throat form words, only able to get out a whimper. Tim wanted to go home, to the Drake home, even if it was empty and cold compared to the boiling heat of the Wayne manor. He wanted to pretend he had never become Robin, had never done such a stupid thing without realizing the consequences. 

   Dragons were possessive creatures. He’d known this even before he found out what the Bats were. He knew how violent they could be, even before seeing Nightwing and Batman rip Joker apart. If he wasn’t careful he could still taste blood and feel the viscera spatter across his face and into his hair. 

   Dick hummed, shifting his hold. Claws continued to gently tug tangles from his hair, even if there weren’t any left. “Everything is going to be fine, ‘kay Timmy? Look,” he knew the older boy was motioning to the batcomputer in front of them even if everything was blurry. “Dad is on his way home now, isn’t that nice?” 

   No, because he couldn’t even escape when it was just Dick, nevermind if there was both him and Bruce. Bruce, who could tear open a man’s rib cage like it was a ziplock bag. He didn’t think he could ever forget the sound of it, nor the sight of organs being violently torn free from where they should be. 

   He’d become Robin to stop the violence, but it seemed like he’d made it worse. All it took was one stupid mistake, one stupid slip up that resulted in him being caught, and now people were dead. 

   He couldn’t stop the tears from dripping down his face, even if they were wiped away by sharp claws. He had only wanted to help, he hadn’t meant to make everything worse. 

[nefarious-616-necromancer]

[dick-the3rd]

Oh my god they did it.

The crazy bastards did it. All the Robins met on the streets AU

(ALSO IS THAT BABY DAMIAN? HOW WOULD THAT WORK?)

Dark Knights of Steel: Tales from the Three Kingdoms #1

[jaybirbie]

Demon Twins DP X DC prompt.

Going with the usual Danny was killed before Damian came to Gotham, and Damian doesn't tell anyone.

The BatFamily were on a mission involving the league, and through magic/science device thing.They time travel.

They happened to land on the day that Danyal was going to be killed.

The Bats were supposed to stay under the radar and not mess with the past, and the device would send them back in a couple of hours.

But Damian couldn't stand to watch his twin killed again and interferes, saving 10 year old Danyals' life and altering the future.

When the device sends them back, they find the world in ruines. The sky a violent Lazarus green.

The world had been destroyed by The Ghost King, Pariah Dark.

Damian has his brother back, but it seems to have cost the world.

[dailydccomics]

the Bat-Prince recruits his Robins Dark Knights of Steel: Tales from the Three Kingdoms (2022)