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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.

—

Look, I just think it's neat U_U

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.”

“I also own zero spoons.”

“There’s some in the kitchen you can steal.”

[Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

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.

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?”

Thanks, I always make the best jokes when I'm not feeling well :)