Makes AU where Tim is out stalking Batman and runs into Talia Al Ghul who's like "'Who's goddamn white baby is that?" And ends up taking him like "Mine, apparently." And proceeds to raise him up alongside Damian.
Damian and Tim get into trouble together all the time and Ra's is THE tired grandfather who continuously finds Tim and Damian dumping goldfish and other small pets with short life spans in the Lazarus pit.
—
Jason is brought back and instantly has Tim annoying him with 101 questions and Damian who follows him around like "You know my Father?" And Jason is so done but also he has two baby brothers and f#%$ Bruce.
Tim: How'd you die?
Jason: Explosion.
Tim: Was it a big explosion?
Jason: Uh, medium explosion.
Tim: Who made the explosion?
Jason, in all his fifteen year old zombie glory: yoUR MO—
Smol Damian, running in with a sword: —TAKE ME TO OUR FATHER!!!
—
Tim, Damian, and Jason all hardcore trolling Ra's and annoying the league of assassins to no end.
—
Talia and Ra's doing that grandparent / parent thing where they debate whether one of the kids is gay or not, like not in a homophobic way but trying to figure it out before the kid does so they can be supportive and surprised but not to suprised.
Ra's, sipping tea: Timothy was staring at the ninjas training again.
Talia, stirring her tea: . . . Nunjas or ninjas?
Ra's: Both.
Talia: Hm...
Ra's: Surely we'd know if he was attracted to multiple genders?
Talia: He definitely is.
Ra's: Oh, I agree, daughter, but when do you think he'll figure that out?
Talia, watching out the window as Tim skateboards down a long rail before face planting into the ground, Jason laughing at him as Damian proceeds to scream for her:
Talia: It might take a while.
—
Cue Damian NOT understanding at all that he and Tim don't share a Dad, like he doesn't understand a literal THING and so refers to Bruce as his, Tim's, an Jason's Father no matter how much anyone corrects him.
Talia, applying sunblock to Tim because baby cannot tan: No, Damian, Timothy cannot go with you to Gotham.
Damian: Why not? Todd gets to live there.
Talia: Jason is an adult and your Father's adoptive son, Tim is my adoptive son, making them both your brothers, but you three do not share a Father.
Tim: I'm Fatherless :D
Talia:
Talia: Perhaps I can convince beloved that you are his as well...
Cue a time skip where Talia leaves Tim and Damian with Bruce for a safer, happier life than she can provide, entering Bruce confused why the Drake's missing son was taken by Talia and now dubbed his, but free children are free children.
—
Cue Damian and Tim being the biggest little sh!ts, swapping Robin mid patrol just to see how long it takes Bruce to notice, trolling Jason and Dick, and being general chaotic gremlins the whole time...
Damian, standing behind Bruce:
Tim, motioning him over from the shadows:
Damian, quickly running over to swap with Tim:
Bruce, thirty minutes later going: Wait a minute...
—
When Bruce "dies" Tim goes running to Ra's, all crying and yelling "GRANDFATHER!" and Ra's does not hesitate to f#&$ people up because dammit ONE of his grandchildren has to take over his ninja zombie cult, right? Right!? But he helps and f#&% b&#%#& up when Tim has to get his spleen removed.
—
Cue Damian and Tim napping on Ra's mid league meeting and Jason snickering from the side because Ra's has a baby backpack on his chest and smol Tim just thrown over his shoulder and sleeping peacefully as Ra's goes on about some terrorism acts.
Batman gets home after a long day of patrol to find one of his newest enemies, the murderous crime lord Red Hood, in his personal civilian office. he prepares to fight despite having taken off all of his gear back down in the cave, only for Red Hood to see him in the doorway and without hesitation, he takes off his helmet.
Jason Todd stares at him from across the desk, tears and snot streaming down his face, and Bruce freezes.
“I don’t know how to hook up the new dryer i bought for my apartment and now my landlord is asking for bank statements to prove i can pay rent and my wifi keeps fucking up and I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT WATER PRESSURE IS,” Jason wails, distraught and sobbing harder than Bruce has ever seen before. he fumbles, jaw dropping, as Jason swipes at his eyes, sniffing. “THIS ISN’T FAIR,” he cries wetly. “I DIED BEFORE I LEARNT ABOUT TAXES, WHAT THE FUCK IS A STOCKS ISA??!”
Bruce bites his lip, deciding to not show his slight amusement. “Oh, chum,” he empathises.
“THIS IS SO FUCKED UP.”
“I know, I know,” he soothes, holding his hands up in submission and carefully moving forward so he could place them comfortingly on Jason’s shoulder. did he know what was going on? absolutely the fuck not. was he going to question it and scare away his apparently-not-dead-son? absolutely the fuck not. “How about some warm milk and cookies, and then you can show me the files that confuse you?”
Jason sniffs. “…and then the dryer?”
“I can hook up your dryer, chum.”
“……I’m not gonna stop being a crime lord,” his son warns, shamelessly using Bruce’s sleeve to wipe away the snot dribbling down his lip. Bruce bits his lip again.
“Let’s not worry about that right now. One problem at a time.”
As someone who lived in the middle of nowhere, Amity, the ocean both terrified and enthralled Danny Fenton.
The first time his parents took him to the beach, it was the middle of the day and he’d been stuck in the prototype GAV for hours upon hours on their “quick, ghost rumor hunting field trip.”
It wasn’t quick, and they caught exactly zero ghosts. When Danny saw the expanse of sand underneath the summer sun, he and Jazz both bounded out of the van like feral little monkeys. Danny and Jazz sprinted down the sand, their parents ambling behind them with their arms loaded up with towels, a first aid kit, and an ungodly amount of mildly ecto contaminated food that they already fought before getting onto the beach.
Danny had splashed into the water, yelped at the freezing temperature, and then promptly found a shell to keep. His mom taught him how to swim with the waves, having come from Surf City herself, and his dad taught Jazz how to dive.
It was a day full of fond memories, especially the memory of the Great War of Sand-Castle Crushing he and Jazz waged against each other.
They stuck around for the sunset, the ripples of colors and peacefulness that swept across the vast waters caught Danny in its hold.
He hadn’t forgotten that moment. Not even when he died.
After a particularly hard day as Phantom, Danny would fly to the coast and loose hours just sitting on the sand and watching the waves lap against the shore. And when those nights were clear? It felt like a slice of his own personal heaven, with the stars shining on his shoulders and the encompassing crash of the waves sheltering his heart.
And on some days, when being Danny left him frustrated, Danny would fly out to the coast and use his intangibility to walk beneath the waves. Near the coast, it’s cloudy with swirls of moving sand and disturbed waters. He walked, and walked, and floated and floated beneath the waters, taking contentment from the way the moonlight of his stars filtered through the water. He admired the way light would glint on the scales of fish and crustaceans alike as he floated beneath the surface. On those days, Danny would pick up trash and polluted things and bring them to shore, to place in the trash cans and all of the recycling cans. He picked up shells and decorated the beaches he frequented, because if it were decorated, perhaps people would refrain from chucking their waste into the sea.
Well, usually, it’d be trash.
Danny watched speechlessly, jaw cracked open just a smidge, as an explosion happened right over his head. The distortion of the water did not hide the fact that there were large chunks of plane pelting down at him, a different figure flying away from the explosion. Danny went invisible and intangible as large metal pieces plunged into his current water space.
“Gosh, people these days,” he huffed. “This is gonna take forever to…”
Danny trailed off, seeing a humanoid shape crash into the water, clearly unconscious. Danny didn’t hesitate before shooting towards the drowning person, glowing green and fully visible again. The stranger’s eyes- holy shit, that’s Batman- turned towards him before closing behind cracked open lenses. Batman slumped falling unconscious. That’s not good.
Danny rocketed out of the water with the vigilante in his arms. If it weren’t for his supernatural strength, there’s no way lanky teenage Danny would have been able to carry Batman’s grown ass built like a tank self to the shore. Likewise, if it weren’t for his strength, Danny wouldn’t have been able to start chest compressions through the layers of armor.
Danny leaned back with a sigh as Batman coughed out only a bit of water, because Danny hadn’t taken all that long to get to him, and held up his hands in a “I don’t have weapons” way as Batman whirled to him.
“Hi. Are you alright?” Danny asked, ectoplasm and instinctive ghost speak fuzzing his words a bit. Damn, Batman must have nearly died a lot. He’ll freak out about meeting Batman later.
“You saved me,” an awkward pause. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. The other guy went that way.”
Danny waved vaguely.
“…What are you?”
“Oh my god, Batman, you can’t just ask someone what they are!” He immediately replied, inwardly smacking himself for the joke. He watched Batman’s face, watching for any sign of discrimination against ghosts, or any sign the man had a sense of humor.
“…”
Neither, apparently, was the answer.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m just here to clean up the beaches. You humans really like to pollute the beaches. It’s quite rude, you know. That plane of yours, well, it’s not your fault,” he amended. “But it’s gonna damage sea life. And I don’t know if you’re in the habit, but please don’t litter on the beach or in the water, especially with your unconscious body. It’s tedious to clean.”
“…I see.”
“Stay. I’ll take out your plane. Make sure it doesn’t stay on the sand, alright?”
With that, Danny stood. Unaware of the way the moonlight lit up his hair like white flames and accentuated the sharp points of his ears, Danny turned away and flew back to the plane site, dragging the pieces up with ease.
Batman sat on the sand, likely exhausted from his fight, and watched him carry the pieces of the aircraft up.
“Here. All done. I gotta get going,” because Danny has school and this just lost him two hours. “Will you be alright?”
Batman nodded once, sharply.
“Good.” Danny went invisible, watching Batman sat up straighter, glancing around in a suddenly visible awareness. Oh, well. Tucker’s gonna freak out.
——
Three years later, Danny’s moved to Gotham for university.
And after midterm season, Danny went for a ghostly walk, but this time, in the waters surrounding Gotham.
When he surfaced, Batman was crouching on a lamp post, waiting for him.
“Oh, it’s you,” Danny said. “Hello. Did you know that people are polluting these waters with bodies too?”
“Yes,” Batman said, graveled voice resounding on the shipping containers around them.
“You should do something about that. Do you like places that are polluted?”
Batman sighed. “What are you?”
Danny hears a small, tinny voice by Batman’s ear, coming from a comm.
“Oh my god, B, you can’t just ask someone what they are!”
Mind flashing back to the night Danny drug a waterlogged Batman out of the ocean, Danny cracked a smile.
“Phantom,” he said, decisively. And, because this isn’t Amity anymore, “the Beach Clean Up crew from the flip side.”
——
Bruce, waking up on the sand: wtf
Bruce, seeing a child next to him who probably saved him: wtf (in “adoption”)
Bruce, seeing Danny’s skin glitter like stars, hair aflame, and pointy ears: wtf (in “I can adopt fae folk, right?”)
Bruce, seeing that Danny doesn’t leave any footprints: wtffff (detective mind goes brrrr)
——
Bruce, after Danny leaves: *donates 20 mil towards beach clean up efforts and anti-pollution causes*
——
Bruce’s Goggle Search History, documented by Oracle:
Sea spirits
Sea vampires
How to parent supernatural kids
How to thank your sea child
Are shells a good gift?
Ocean conservation efforts
Sea spirits that glitters under moonlight
Sea spirits that cleans up beaches
Wayne corporation waste disposal
Companies that dump trash into the sea
*outgoing call to Lucius Fox*
What is “mean girls”
——
Bruce, learning “current pop culture” from his kids:
Bruce, remembering the kid who saved him and realizing he’s probably as old as his own kids are: *adoption tendencies intensifies*
Clark Kent had zero idea that he wanted to get manhandled until Bruce Wayne picked his big ass up, flung him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and walked out of the League conference room with him like he weighed nothing at all. And damnit, Bruce didn’t miss a step or show any sign that he was heavy. He had the nerve to just keep walking, face blank and eyes forward, as though he wasn’t carrying well over 200 pounds of Superman around like a rag doll.
Clark has never been so conflicted.
On one hand, he’d been in the middle of speaking—and making a damn good point, thank you very fucking much. Bruce had disagreed with everything he’d said to the point that he’d snatched the cowl off mid-meeting, like he wanted Clark to see he was rolling his eyes in plain view. And Clark can admit that after the third eye roll, he’d gotten loud and belligerent. Then, out of nowhere, right after Barry had made some silly joke to break the tension in the room, Bruce had stood up, rounded the table, grabbed Clark by the waist, and flung him over his shoulder. And Clark, too shocked by it all, hadn’t done a thing to stop it.
Which leads to the other hand. Because yes, on one hand, Clark is outraged that Bruce went this far to shut him down in a disagreement. Mister dark and broody, Mister I’m Always Right Because I’m Batman, just couldn’t handle anyone with a different point of view, so he physically removed the opposition. Self-righteous, arrogant, bullheaded, stubborn, and yet—and yet—and yet…
Clark has never been so turned on in his fucking life.
It occurs to him, as Bruce exits the conference room with everyone else watching in shocked silence, that he should be furious. He can’t remember what he’d been saying—knows it was a good point but damn, what had the meeting even been about?—and now look at him. He’s face down, ass up, cape askew, wide-eyed and struck stupid. He thinks he even squeaked in shock when Bruce had adjusted him from his left shoulder to his right without so much as a grunt. Just seamless, effortless, strong, so strong and powerful—
He doesn’t know how long they’ve been walking (well, Bruce walking and him just dangling), but suddenly they’re in an empty break room and Bruce is sitting him down on the counter, arranging himself between his legs and opening his mouth to growl—
“If you’re determined to act like a brat, then I’m going to treat you like one.”
Did Clark say before that he’s never been so turned on in his life? Scratch that. Fuck that. Whatever he said then doesn’t even begin to compare to right now.
Bruce blinks and the fight in him seems to evaporate into thin air. “You…are not supposed to be enjoying this.”
Oh, great. Now, on top of everything else Bruce is inexplicably capable of, it seems like he can also see Clark’s toes curling involuntarily in his boots. Either that or the deep breath Clark took to calm down looked more like helpless swooning. Fucking wonderful.
And you know what? He could be embarrassed by all this. He probably should be. Maybe even righteously indignant at the disrespect, the absolute gall it took for someone who’s supposed to be his equal cutting him off in such an extreme way. But something about getting tossed around has his brain short-circuiting and his heart fluttering, so he takes years of mutual lingering glances and tension and decides to be brave (see: stupid and horny).
“What are you gonna do about it?”
Bruce grins. “If I’d know that was all it took, I would’ve done this ages ago.”
