More triplet tim PLEASEE
Aye, aye!
@batman-soup your idea just gives on giving omg what magic are you cooking in your head bc this prompt literally went absolutely crazy in mine
Commissioner Gordon was a decorated veteran of the GCPD, having lasted in the force longer than most without buckling under the pressure and temptation of being a dirty cop. That means he’s seen some shit, and he’s been in some shit. Even when Batman made his debut, even when he had to cover for Bru- ahem, Batman’s fool ass, James Gordon hadn’t even considered stoping in his effort to better the GCPD.
As he blankly stared at Batman, who looked as tired as Gordon felt, and the- not one, not two, but three- Robins following him, Commissioner Gordon seriously considered going down stairs and handing in his letter of resignation on the spot.
“Batman,” he greeted the Dark Knight, in the tone one might use when saying “Batman, what the fuck?!”
“Commissioner Gordon.” Batman said, sounding like he swallowed gravel and spent his nights crying instead of beating up Gotham’s criminal underbelly. “This is… the Robins. They’ve been… switching out until they were all ready.”
“Hey, Mister Gordon!” One of the Robins chirped. Commissioner Gordon pinched himself. Maybe he got micro-dosed with fear toxin? Commissioner Gordon nodded at the Robin who spoke.
“Commissioner Gordon!” The second one smiled at him.
“Commissioner Gordon.” The third one said, shoulders back.
“Have there always been… three of you?” Gordon asked, perplexed.
“You’ve actually all met us before, but don’t worry about it! Whatcha got for us this time?”
“Robin,” Batman growled.
“Yes?” “Yeah?!” “What.”
Commissioner Gordon chugged his coffee, to avoid laughing at Batman’s exasperated demeanor. Privately, he wished the coffee was a strong, black out worthy drink, and that the Robins gave Batman the stress Gordon experienced at Batman’s antics.
“It is important.”
“Yeah, yeah, we got it, B.” Regular Robin, Gordon deemed, waved him off.
“But we’re currently not taking mental health advice from you, you walking therapist’s wet dream.” Serious Robin scoffed.
“So you can stick your opinion where the sun doesn’t shine!” Chirpy Robin said. Gordon had wanted to name him happy Robin, but he’s not getting the feeling of “happiness” from him.
“I will bench you.”
“Try me,” all of them defiantly said at the same time. Gordon smothered a laugh, but by the glare Batman sent him, he wasn’t too successful at hiding it.
Batman visibly gave up, shoulders slumping. “Commissioner Gordon, what do you have for…us.”
“There’s, heh, Penguin’s expansion.” Gordon looked away from Batman’s baleful look, mustache twitching with suppressed laughter.
“He’s expanding his weapons trading.” Regular Robin said. Serious Robin nodded, leaning back on his heels in thought.
“That’s a sign of an upcoming turf war.”
“Red Hood’s part of it! I saw Penguin’s guys lurking around his safe house!”
“Why do you know where his safe house is, Robin?” Gordon might acknowledge that they’re trained vigilantes, but at the end of the day, Robin is still a child that shouldn’t be near a crime lord, especially a highly dangerous and highly trained one like the Red Hood.
“Prank! Don’t worry about it!”
Gordon side-eyed the Bat. When Batman didn’t move to say anything, he shrugged and let it go. There’s only one person more protective of Robin than the rest of Gotham’s non-criminal city, and that’s Batman. Gordon caught the three of them exchanging glances- a whole conversation he and Batman were not privy to- and suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to go home and never leave his bed again.
“You know where he’s staying, Robin?” Batman asked, when the silence got too long.
“Yep!” They chorused, even the serious one. Batman looked like he wanted to step back but held on like his pride was on the line.
“We can handle Penguin.” The serious one stated.
“You can get the goons, Batman!”
“I’ll rob them blind,” regular Robin grinned.
“Dibs on Penguin!”
“I’ll get the weapons.”
Batman sighed.
“Godspeed, Robins.” Gordon told the youngsters. To Batman, before he left, “Good luck.”
Batman grunted and disappeared. It sounded like a tearful thanks. Commissioner Gordon took a puff of his smoking pipe and decided to end the day today. He did not want to deal with the Robins and whatever terror they were about to unleash on Penguin.
——
“Penguuuuuiiiiiiinnnn, where aaaaare youuuu?!” Lionel sang, whacking a goon across the head with a pipe. “Come ooout!”
Archy, gleefully lugging away bags of tech and guns, jerked his head at the left hallway. He wound around the bodies of the unconscious goons Batman beat up. Lionel grinned at him in thanks and, bouncing along, went to beat up the Penguin.
“Robin, that is evidence.” Batman stopped Archy.
“It’s only evidence if it gets logged. Besides, I’m not going to do anything with them… much.”
Batman scowled, remembering the parenting books he devoured after adopting Jason. Be firm.
“You are not going to give them to Hood to help with his turf war.”
“Give me one good reason why.”
Tim, passing the arguing pair, snorted. “C’mon B, at least Hood’s guys will make sure to not use them to hurt kids. Who knows what the GCPD will do with this many guns.”
“And, not to mention, you let me get shot when we fought Dent.” Archy looked up at Batman balefully, rubbing his side. Batman grimaced… but stood aside.
Archy smirked.
“B, help me out with this,” Tim shouted, patting the top of Penguin’s heavy safe. Batman sighed and took out his laser cutter. Or, as Dick named it, Batlaser.
“Batman is supposed to be a symbol,” Batman rumbled.
“Yeah, of vengeance and justice. I’m getting justice for my stolen bat-tech, Robin L is getting vengeance for that one time Penguin kidnapped him, and Robin A is getting… stuff. Now c’mon, I can’t carry all this gold by myself. I gotta loot the goons too!”
“Do not loot the goons.”
“You’re right. If they had cool stuff, they probably wouldn’t be working for Penguin.” Tim brightened as he shuffled through the Penguin’s hoard of treasures. “Oo! Lookit! Tax evasion!”
“… You memorized his tax returns when Oracle hacked it, didn’t you.”
“Obviously. Keep up, old man.” Archy snarked as he walked back in to grab some more stuff. “Hood’s on the way with Nightwing and I want froyo, so chop chop!”
Batman sighed.
——
Penguin huddled against the crate, heart pumping a rhythm of abject terror.
His night had been going so well! He had drinks in one hand, a beauty in another, and the weapons trading game underneath his feet! The Cobblepots were going to rise once more!
Then, the slide of gravel, here and there.
Fear.
A low chuckle. The Bat?
Fear.
The squeal of a hinge.
Fear.
Bubbly laughter. Oh no. Robin.
Batman and Robin had dropped to the floor of the base, knocking his goons out left and right.
“Ge’ your fat nose outta my business, Bats!” He had went to wave his umbrella to send spikes at the pair, only to be stopped cold.
He turned around slowly and … Robin?
“Wha-?”
“Heya, Penguin! Nice seeing you again!”
“Agh!” Blinding pain erupted on his face, nose leaking blood. Penguin stumbled back as the psychotic Robin laughed.
“There’s two Robin! Run!” His goons shouted. “Boss, run!” Cobblepot stumbled away, mentally noting to give that goon a raise, once he could see more than red tinged blurs.
“Wrong. There’s three.” A cold voice sounded out, followed by the quick sounds of bodies dropping. Oswald Cobblepot ran, because he was not meant to deal with more than one Robin. The world was not meant to have more than one, so it definitely wasn’t ready for three.
The door creaked open. Oswald Cobblepot peeked his head out from behind the crate. He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw an empty doorway. Maybe he forgot to close it when he ran in.
“Heya, Oswald!”
Penguin looked up, eyes darting from the blood stained pipe and straight into the grinning maw of a Robin.
“… Bollocks.”
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Killer Croc's little bro was apparently in Gotham.
How did everyone know? Because he was seen physically dragging said older brother out of the sewers and into the nearest cafe.
And Killer Croc was just. So docile??? He was shy, a bit nervous, amused, and was practically harmless. Which wasn't something anyone would have associated with Killer Croc.
And the fact that said little bro can lift him up easily too? What kind of parents did they have for their son to be able to lift up the Killer Croc so easily?
Meanwhile, Jack just doesn't get why everyone reacts negatively to his big brother, it's not like he was a ghost for goodness sake and yea he's working on not being like he was before his son revealed himself to be part ghost, but still.
His brother was still human, just extra.
Why did Jack come to Gotham? He was kinda maybe forced out the house to go and find his brother because he liked talking about him but never actually went out to find him.
Jack and Croc may be half-brothers, yes, but he's still family.
Jack strongarms Killer Croc into not living in, well, the sewers and at his house he bought when he came to Gotham and they both caught up with each other's lives. Jack told Croc about his family, and by extension the shit views he's had on ghost because it was a major part in their family dynamics, and Croc told him about his own life in Gotham.
Minus the more gruesome, parts.
Killer Croc lives with him for a while and notices that he didn't really seem to care for his life. Which is a major no to Croc, who tries to get him to gain some amount of self-preservation, yes he knows that his little bro is more durable than the average human has any right to be but please for the sake of your big bro's heart, please take care of yourself.
Jack is a bit floored by this, and tries to wave it off as a non-issue. But if Jack can strongarm Croc into living with him, then Croc can definitely strongarm Jack into things as well.
Busting through walls is fine, alright. He gets it, it's very fun. But please don't stick random things into your mouth that can kill you, nor follow strangers down an alleyway and shrug off a stabbing (Killer Croc had some choice words and actions for the person who did such a thing.), and please, please practice stranger danger, little bro. Please.
No, he doesn't give two, three, four, five or ten fucking shits if you have microsurgeons in your blood that gives you a superhuman healing factor, you can still feel pain little bro, and stop skipping meals and sleep to work on your inventions! No, you cannot substitute either for energy drinks!
The batfam keep an eye on the two brothers and find it to just be the both of them strongarming the other into healthy behaviors basically. (With a lot of verbal and physical "I love you"'s, the Batfam could NEVER. slash joke teehee.)
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