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#damian is pissed
rad-batson · 8 months
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Imagine the Damian and Jon age gap but it happens a couple years later like Jon is 15 and Damian is 17. So when Jon comes back, and he’s 18 to Damian’s 17, everyone keeps making jokes about how he has to “wait a couple of months” because Jon’s crush on Damian is the most obvious thing in the world. (Unless you’re Damian, of course.) Now Jon is blushing furiously and avoiding eye contact, but Damian doesn’t get it?? Why is Jon so flustered? Jon, stop acting weird. We’re just going to see a movie. Stop blushing. You’re above this, Jon. Why won’t you hug me anymore? I thought you liked hugs. No, I don’t like them, but I’ve come to tolerate them from you. Do you mean to tell me all of that work was for nothing? How could you do this to me? Just hug me, damnit! Stop ignoring me!
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Vlad gets caught overshadowing people in Gotham and tries to get out of it by overshadowing Robin and trying to flee. Unfortunately for him the bats have cameras everywhere and all of them wear coms so he's quickly surrounded. He tries to use duplicates to possess the other members of the batfam but they all have strong wills and throw him out easily and this girl in purple keeps wreaking him. The overshadowing doesn't even work with Red Hood and he just crashes into him. (he'd have to investigate that later.) Hes also distracted by the small brat trying to throw him out of his body constantly. The teen was practically a bucking bronco.
Needless to say, Vlad is quickly identified as a supernatural being and contained/arrested.
Danny throws a party with his friends when he finds out. Sam is worried about the Justice Leage will react.
Turns out she was right cause nearly everyone in the league is arguing about who gets to adopt the hero child and his sister(s) after Vlad outed him
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
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Damian Wayne was like a duckling. A violent, stab-happy, danger-prone duckling, yes, but a duckling all the same. Which means when Danny almost got stabbed by a sleepy, instinct driven Damian, he was able to wave it off with a laugh. Damian, on the other hand, stared in horror at the butter knife firmly lodged in Danny’s arm.
“PENNYWORTH!” Danny jerked back at Damian’s scream. “RICHARD! FATHER!”
God damn, the kid had a pair of lungs on him. Danny’s wince was interpreted as pain to Damian, who gently grabbed his injured arm and started to pull him towards the kitchen’s marble island.
Danny blinked, non plussed as his hearing picked up a thundering of feet as the present family members scrambled towards Damian’s distress call.
“Wait, Damian, I’m fine. It’s-”
“You have been impaled, you imbecile! Had it been any of the other simpletons, they would have-!”
“Ouch.” Danny put his other hand in mock hurt over his slow-beating heart. He literally doesn’t care about the butter knife. He’s just impressed there was enough force in there to impale him. “Are you calling me names now? After- gasp- stabbing me?”
Before Damian could reply, the beginnings of regret, remorse, and guilt on his face, Alfred, Dick, and Bruce burst into the kitchen.
“What happened?!”
“My word, master Danny!”
“What is it?!”
“I’m fine. It’s like a small stab. Not even a big stab. I’m good.”
Dick paled, seeing Danny’s arm clutched in Damian’s hand.
“That’s- that’s a knife. In your arm. How is that ‘fine’?!”
“What happened.” Bruce asked Damian, gently removing Danny’s arm from Damian’s death clutch.
“I- I did not mean to,” Damian starts, guilt coloring his voice.
“He didn’t,” Danny cuts in. “I startled him and got stabbed for being dumb. I won’t fault him for having a defense mechanism like that, ancient knows what I might do if you guys startled me.”
The awkward silence that settled at his words made Danny twitch awkwardly.
“Uh, so, can I add this knife to my collection? Even if I didn’t get mugged?”
“Danny.”
“Bruce.” Danny stared stubbornly back. With his uninsured hand, he patted Damian on the head. He was going to enjoy the fluffiness before Damian’s guilt was no longer enough to hold him back from snapping at Danny’s hand like a grumpy alligator. Bruce loses, obviously. He’s a teenager who was also an ex-vigilante. Batman’s got nothing on a determined halfa.
“Master Danny, I must insist you refrain from getting stabbed. There is only so much gauze and antiseptic cream in the house.” Alfred returned- huh, when did he leave?- with a med kit.
Danny called bullshit because he knows there’s a whole ass medical bay beneath the manor.
“Sorry.”
“No need to apologize.” Alfred said, promptly beginning the extraction of the butter knife.
“Are you okay?” Dick asked, hovering worriedly. “He- are you…?”
Damian was allowing Danny to ruffle his hair, so…
“Yep, I’m good. This isn’t even on my top thirty most painful stabbings,” and it really wasn’t. That honor was given to the GIW and that one time Jazz accidentally stabbed him with her earrings. “That was pretty impressive, actually. It’s like, a butter knife. The other ones had pointy ends.”
“Do not clump me with those pathetic wastes of spaces. I am naturally superior and would… would never harm you on purpose.” Damian said, getting quiet at the end like he was trying to plead to Danny to believe him.
“Of course not. But- if you want help me keep the knife, you can hit me with a mug, it would technically be a mugging.”
The pun got the desired effect. Damian leaned away with a disgruntled look and Dick stopped hovering as close in order to let out a small cackle.
“Done.”
“You should go get changed, kiddo. We’re going to see Tim’s photography at the Gotham Gallery today.”
“Oh, for real?” Danny patted Damian’s fluffy hair one last time, pushing away from the counter. “Oh, I’ll clean up here first and-”
“That will not be necessary,” Alfred scolded, a mop somehow already in his hands. “Please see to it you are prepared for the day.”
“Thanks, Alfred. Can I keep the knife.”
“Very well.”
“Sweet. See you guys later?” Danny pranced off after seeing the nods.
——
“He’s… he got stabbed a lot. Before us, I mean.” Dick tapped a furious rhythm onto the counter. “Not that we’ve stabbed him until now but even once is concerning for a civilian.”
“He was used to it.” Bruce replied.
“Perhaps we should join Todd in his endeavor and ensure that his worthless tormentors are permanently out of the picture.”
“God, he said top thirty. He was counting.”
Damian silently withdrew a kitchen knife.
“No murder with my quality chef’s knives, Master Damian.”
“Tt.”
“Master Jason follows the same rules. Now, out of the kitchen. I may be old, but I remember the last time master Bruce and master Dick stepped foot in here and I will not have a repeat.”
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spacedace · 6 months
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Quick dp x dc prompt:
The BatFam finds out via getting tagged a million times on any and all social media sites that Damian apparently got drunkenly married to Jon & Elle while the three were in Las Vegas.
And that alone is making them all lose their collective minds, but somehow there's yet still more on top of that punch in the face because apparently the three didn't get married as Damian Wayne, Jon Kent and Elle Nightingale.
Oh no, that'd be way too easy to handle when it came to how the press and wider world reacted to the youngest son and until very recently one of the most eligible bachelors in the world getting married at three in the morning in a haunted-house themed 24-hour Vegas chapel by a guy dressed up like Zombie Elvis.
No, instead the three of them got married as civilian Damian Wayne and very much not civilians Superboy/Jon-El the Son of Superman and Nomad/Stella Phantom the Crown Princess of the Infinite Realms.
-
also bonus meme stuff, this is absolutely how Damian, Jon and Elle greet the paparazzi upon stumbling out of the chapel and the images being shared absolutely everywhere. Steph frames them and hangs them up as the three's "Wedding Photos" because she finds it absolutely hilarious:
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charlietheepicwriter7 · 3 months
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S̶̤̋̉t̸o̶̝̍r̵̛͠m̸̠͌͝
Look, I know I promised a continuation of "Get in the Water," but I had this idea and just had to write it, okay? So this is the non-canon sequel, the canon one is still in progress.
They escaped. Batman dragged Damian's frozen body away from the Lazarus Pit and through the tunnels as Danyal's screams-sobs-wails echoed behind them. Eventually the sound ebbed away and they emerged to the surface.
A debrief was demanded from everyone; even Todd was in the Cave. Damian trembled, his only sign of distress, his mind stuck on Danyal's face, his brother's voice rebounding around his head.
Father's debrief had been rough. Damian could barely explain what happened, why he was drawn to the waters, why Danyal wanted to drown him. He'd only explained the Danyal was someone he'd killed while with the League, and Father was the only one to doubt his explanation.
Damian took the first opportunity to escape to the showers. Stripping down, Damian turned the faucet and the bathroom lit up bright green.
He flinched away, and when he opened his eyes, the water was just water. A stone sunk into his stomach.
The next day, while Father was consulting with Justice League Dark, Grayson and Drake returned to the caves for their own investigation of the Pits. And while they found the cavern--found by tracking the batarang Father threw--it was desert dry. There was no sign of Lazarus Water, nor did it look like it had ever been there.
That night, as Damian was washing his face before bed, he filled the sink basin with water. He turned away for one second, but when he looked back, he almost dipped his face under the green slime oozing out the spout. He bolted, and when he returned with a startled Father, the water had returned to normal.
Grayson insisted on taking him out for lunch the following day, citing that Damian needed a "break." Damian was furious, but allowed it; Justice League Dark was visiting the cave to discuss the... incident, and Damian wanted to interrogate them. He... he needed to know if that was really Danyal or not. If his sweet brother could have been twisted after his murder into that monster, that Siren crooning at him to choose to die.
He'd never contemplated the fate of his brother's immortal soul before. Had he done this to him? Could Damian had avoided this by killing him honorably, instead of cowardly poisoning Danyal so he'd pass away in his sleep?
Damian allowed Grayson order for him. He wasn't hungry. The clouds above swirled ominously as he followed Grayson to a nearby awning with a picnic bench underneath.
Grayson took a bite of his gyro. "So? How have you been coping these past few days?"
"I'm not an invalid, Grayson," Damian hissed, glaring. "I'm fine."
A frozen breath brushed across his ear. "Ĺ̶̥̲̪̀̐ỉ̷̢̜̚a̴̧͖͛r̶̺̫̾͗̃͜,̶͕̐" Danyal whispered in his ear.
Grayson didn't notice or hear Danyal's voice. "You see, I don't believe you. One of your dead League friends is supernaturally gunning for you, Dami; it's normal to feel out of sorts."
Damian scoffed. "Nothing about this situation is normal."
He looked down at his food and sighed. "Yeah, that's for sure. I'm sorry, Damian. I wish this wasn't happening to you."
"And I wish the creature would just attack already," Damian griped. "It's the waiting that will kill me, not that fake."
Like someone had been listening, the sky opened up and it rained green throughout Gotham.
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sophiethewitch1 · 2 months
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Sparring sessions with Damian would be the worst. He's constantly mocking you, trying to make you lose your edge. And he's quick too, dancing around any punches or kicks you throw. Even when it's obvious you won't win the spar, he still doesn't take you down. He'll let you keep going. Keep struggling till you're a sweaty and exhausted mess.
That's when he'll pounce. Pins you down to the sparring mats, his body straddling yours. You try to buck him off. He just thrusts his hips back down into yours. The bulge in his sweats pressing against you has the fight in you disappearing like smoke. You look up at him, confused, and he merely smirks back down at you.
"Not going to tap out?"
You do, hand tapping the training mat, even as you stare into his emerald green eyes. You don't think you could look away even if you tried.
"Hm, but I think I've earned my reward, don't you?"
It doesn't really matter what your answer is, does it? He likes it when you struggle, after all.
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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.”
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nerdpoe · 2 months
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Damian gets hit with the Fenton Ghost Catcher; the giant dream catcher that splits a ghost from a person.
This happens in front of the new Superman, who proceeds to Lose His Fucking Mind at seeing his younger friend go from lively and talking to cold and still on the ground. Because Jon can't see Damian's ghost.
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arrowmaker15 · 5 months
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(All 5 of the original Robins meeting thanks to the Flash family fucking with the timeless/multiverse again)
Jason (As Robin 2): Wait a fuckin' minute, I *die*!?
Tim (As Robin 3): Yes, that is correct.
Dick (As Robin 1): I'm still stuck on the fact that not only do I get fired, but four more Robins come after me. And that this eleven-year-old stalked both me and you for years!
Tim (R3): I'm 13, almost 14.
Steph (As Robin 4): I'm only around for a few months? Why?
Damian (As Robin 5): You initiated a protocol that Batman was meant to be around for without telling him. You then caused a gang war, Black Mask discovered your identity, he kidnapped you, tortured you, then assumedly killed you. Dr. Thompkins in actuality faked your death and after a while you returned. Then you started dating Drake.
Tim (R3): Is that part really important to mention?
Jason (R2): Yes, now, how the hell do I die, Replacement?
Tim (R3): Joker beats you with a crowbar then blows you up in a warehouse in Ethiopia.
Jason (R2): And... And B doesn't kill him?
Damian (R5): No. But Grayson does.
Dick (R1): I what now!?
Steph (R4): Don't worry, the B-Man brings him back to life shortly after.
Jason (R2): He does fuckin' WHAT!!??
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minty364 · 6 months
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DPXDC Prompt #66
Damian was going through some things in the attic and he finds a mirror. In another universe without superheroes but with ghosts Danny also finds a mirror. The two find out they can talk to each other the the mirrors. They start out slow but eventually reveal everything about each other even secret identities, it’s not like they can be revealed when they live in different universes. Danny even revealed that he was king to a whole different dimension.
so when Danny disappears for 2 weeks Damian is concerned, he goes to Constantine who is reluctant to summon the ghost king of course but Damian insists on it and they go through the summoning on the watchtower. They summon him and much to everyone’s dismay find out he was captured by a government organization that experimented on him.
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rad-batson · 1 year
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I used to be torn between Damian being like 5’4 forever or becoming tall like his mom and dad, but now I’m obsessed with the idea of him just suddenly sprouting to 6’5 (195) at the age of 16, surpassing his entire family by miles, but all of his friends are somehow even taller than him. Jon is 6’7, Colin is 6’6, Billy is 7’ (213) when he’s Captain Marvel. They still call him short at every opportunity, and it pisses him off almost as much as the realization that he’s also tall enough for most of daily life to now be a general nuisance.
He has to crouch to fit under shower-heads. Most door frames are a walking hazard. He gets smacked in the face with tree branches. His clothes never fit right. He has to contort himself every time Tim drives the Batmobile before him and forgets to adjust the seat back. He needs to eat SO MUCH all the the time. His feet stick off the bed. His knees don’t fit under tables. He’s still a master of stealth, but now he can’t fit through vents, and it is so fucking annoying that he regrets ever wanting to be tall and wishes he was 4’11 again.
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phantom-0-writer · 7 months
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original prompt: Gotham Academy's Mentorship Program
scene 1
table of contents
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scene 2: tim’s arch nemesis 
“Have a good day at school Masters Tim, Thomas, and Damian.” Alfred wished, as they all got out of the car. 
“Later, Alfred.” Duke waved as the car left the drop off zone.
The three of them walked together until Tim remembered the conversation from Bruce’s study. He peered over his shoulder at Damian who was trying to act nonchalant as he ditched the principal's office. Tim turned and stopped right in front of Damian ``Ohoho, and where do you think you’re going Damian?” Sneaky little plans for a sneaky little kid, huh.
“Tsk.” He rolled his eyes at being caught 
Tim smirked at him, the words hillbilly civilians echoing in his head. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the principal’s office?” 
“I was just on my way.” Damian said, trying to seem unbothered as he walked away. 
“Y’know one of these days he’s gonna snap and finally murder you.” Duke mused next to him, before they split into their separate hallways. 
“Better people than him have tried.” They shared a small laugh. Finding his usual seat in homeroom, Tim scrolled through his phone until class started. 
At the bell Ms. Kross stepped to the teacher’s podium to start the daily announcements. “Hello class, happy Wednesday.” She smiled at them, “You’re all chipper as usual,” she commented humorously to herself at the silent audience. “Well today is the day I’m sure all of you have been waiting anxiously for. Before I announce everyone’s placements after the midterms, I just want to remind you all that grades only matter so much in the grand scheme of things, and if you did not score as well as you would’ve liked, there's still time to do better.” Ms. Kross gave them the yearly pep talk, as the system booted. 
Tim had been attending Gotham Academy since the first grade, and he was familiar with the ins and outs of the system now, as opposed to the many students that often filtered in and out of the Academy. Gotham Academy is one of the best schools on this side of the coast and many affluent families would send their kids here. So naturally the Academy was incredibly competitive and so much as one point could move you from 5th place to 50th. 
The competitive atmosphere of Gotham Academy had never been too hard of a burden on Tim’s shoulder. Since grade 3 Tim has easily been placed first in his grade without so much as a sweat, no matter the amount of Robin, or Red Robin responsibilities on his shoulders. Knowing this year would be no different, Tim let his chair lean back leisurely as his other classmates sat forward in anticipation. 
“With no further ado, this year’s first place as for now is Daniel Fenton.” Yup, just like every other- Wait. 
“What?” Tim asked, the front two legs of his chair hitting the floor hard. Tim looked at the screen in disbelief, only to have his suspicions confirmed. 
“Mr. Drake, is there a problem?” Mr. Kross asked, surprised. 
“Are you sure this is right?” Tim asked incredulously pointing an accusing finger at the screen, there's no way that he- Timothy Drake - placed second?
“Yes, Mr. Drake, I assure you this sheet has been double, triple, even quadruple checked. There are no errors.” Ms. Kross smiled exasperatedly. 
Ms. Kross continued down the list of names in the class, announcing their places but Tim wasn’t paying attention. Tim glared at the spreadsheet at the front of the class, waiting for it to correct itself. But no changes were made. The name placed at the top of the list had been burned into Tim’s skull. 
Who the fuck is Daniel James Fenton? 
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Bonus:
Bruce waited his turn in the pick up line, ready to see his kids' surprise when they found out that he came to pick them up instead of Alfred. When it was finally his turn to pull up to the curb he smiled happily as Tim, Damian and Duke entered the car. 
“Surprise.” Bruce smiled at them.
“Oh, Bruce. Alfred didn’t come today?” Duke asked with a smile. 
“Nope!” He said driving into the street. “Since it’s just us today, how about we go grab ice cream?” Bruce offered, looking at his passengers in the rearview mirror. 
“Ooh ice cream after school!” Duke cheered. 
“I could appreciate some ice cream.” Damian nodded from his seat. 
“Oh how did meeting Daniel go today, Damian?” Bruce remembered. 
“It was fine. Daniel is not entirely despicable.” Bruce blinked in surprise, Damian seemed to have taken a great liking to the kid if he was already calling him by his first name, especially on day one. “Not entirely despicable” and “it was fine” in Damian-speak usually meant that he had had a phenomenal time. 
“That’s great, buddy.” Bruce turned to tell him when he stopped at a red light. “Duke, how was your Chemistry Test?” 
“It went okay, I think. We’ll just have to wait till the results come out, I guess.” Duke shrugged. 
Bruce nodded at the information. He was doing a good job. Engage, Assess, Appreciate. That’s what Dick had said. 
Tim. There was something today, he had mentioned it offhandedly. What was it? Right! The placement release. 
“Tim, how did your-”
“Shut up.” Tim seethed from the back seat. Bruce saw the irritation radiating off of him and decided that today, nor any day, would he be ready to deal with that.
“Ok.”
684 notes · View notes
not-a-matopoeia · 7 months
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do you think that when people in the batfam send pictures of Dick to each other or in a group chat that are like:
"haha look at this Dick pic guys"
and then people respond in kind like they are not, in-fact, looking at a photo of Dick Grayson, but like an actual dickpic and pretend to be all grossed out by it
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jasontoddsgaythoughts · 7 months
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It’s my headcanon that when Bernard is upset with Tim, he goes to the Wayne family to compose a petty little PowerPoint like “Proof that Tim Drake Wayne Hates the Lower Class” with Duke, Steph, and Jason as sources.
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lizardpersonyknow · 11 months
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I just love the idea that Tim has these completely out of line, nuclear threats that he pulls out on a whim for the most random things, but doesn't give a shit about things that should ACTUALLY call for them. He is just unhinged enough that everyone reacts with visceral fear because he Would Do It.
Deathstroke tries to kill him/a criminal he's been hunting for months? That's annoying, but I'll just beat him up
Deathstroke (out of costume) takes the last box of his favourite pasta shape on the shelf in a shop? Give Me The Pasta Or I Will Tell Bruce That You Fucked Dick.
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snakeredbirdbatkatana · 5 months
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Dick loves his siblings would die and kill for them of course, could never pick one but in the deep dark parts of his mind that's a lie.
Damian is more of his son then anything else his responsibility.
Jason is complicate he loves his little wing.
He just doesn't actually trust them.
In his mind a sibling is someone you help share burdens work with, trust them not to kick you when your down.
Tim on the other hand when he got sick Tim cleaned up vomit.
After tarantula the first person he told was Tim.
When Bruce is especially an asshole he can't call Jason but he can call Tim.
He loves his baby bird. His first brother the one who doesn't sleep enough but will crawl into his bed. The one he caught.
When he found out what happened at titans tower he wanted to kill Jason. How fucking dare he, the only thing he could think about was making Jason pay which he did.
Hunted him through his own territory and beat him. Still to this day he doesn't understand why Jason never told Bruce.
When Damian first went after Tim he had to restrain himself wanted to so badly do something but he knew Damian didn't mean it. He was a traumatized kid.
He knows he can't ever voice it right he's the golden boy he can't admit to a favorite that he would hesitate.
That's if a gun was held to both Jason and Tim he already knows his choice.
That at the end of the day his Robin will always be Tim.
"Of course I don't have a favorite sibling I love all of my baby wings"
It's bullshit and of course the only person to clock it is Tim.
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