“Yup.”

“Like really you weren’t joking about that?” Hal said and Batman looked at him for a long while.

“Hey, sorry I asked.”

“No I’m counting. Yes I do, I have about ten. But I consider more than that to be my responsibility.” He said turning back to his report.

“… how do you have any time to yourself?” Hal asked and Bruce laughed softly and shook his head amused.

“I don’t.”

“No but seriously, how do you do it?” He asked and he thought about it thoughtfully, setting down the tablet.

“I patrol as Batman at night, I go to work in the morning and I can come home to take care of my kids and everything else in the afternoon. And I can train in the evening.

I sleep in twenty minute intervals. It’s highly effective. I can operate on three hours of sleep a day, freeing up time for my other roles.”

“So... what do you do when you have free time?” He asked and Batman just stared at him.

“I spend time with my kids.”

“No but like, when you have time to yourself and you’re not working?” He said and Batman looked frankly alarmed.

“I don’t have free time.”

“You don’t have-“

“No, that sounds awful. Well… I guess I meditate for the mission.” He said and Hal shook his head stunned.

“That’s… that’s not free time that’s staying sane.”

“Yes. Although I suppose twenty minutes is a bit much… I could probably function on ten minutes of sleep at a time” he mused and Hal grabbed his arm.

“No?!?”

“No?”

“No!! The hell do you mean, that’s insane. Batman you know that’s insane right?” He asked and Batman shrugged.

“It works.” He said, turning back to his tablet before looking at him again.

“But that’s why I push for more efficiency within the Justice League. This is my fourth role and it takes time away from other things I could be doing.

Every second we waste here on non significant things is a second I could have been spending saving lives in Gotham, or being with my children. I don’t wish to miss their events and other things that are important to them but sometimes I just don’t have the time.

I understand wanting to ‘goof off’ with your friends, but if you could do it in your own time and not during the meetings I am present that would help.” He said and looked down at his watch as he stood.

“I must go. My son needs me, I’ve spent the time I should have been completing this report talking.” He said looking sadly at the report.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean,” Hal stammered and Batman shook his head.

“No it was necessary. It’s good to know how your teammates function. I should have phrased the information in a faster way.” He said with a sigh and stood up, stumbling slightly.

“Whoa, you alright?”

“Yes.”

“How long has it been since you last slept?”

“… yes.”

new #bowuigi idea Luigi gets invited to be security on an archeological dig, the young professor leading the project claims he works at the same school as Gadd and he recommended Luigi. It seems like a good opportunity to earn some money and sight-see, but the young prof gives Luigi bad vibes.

Everybody Luigi talks to - including Gadd because Luigi wasn't just going to take this guy at his word - says the young prof seems nice enough, maybe a bit too intense about his work but basically a good guy. But Luigi still can't shake the feeling something is off here.

He can't find a good reason to refuse, so finally Luigi agrees and leaves with the dig crew. They have to move all their equipment too so the trip is pretty long, but they're traveling in style to a kind of weird degree. Archeologists are only rich in movies, right?

Unfortunately, Bowser turns out to be traveling the same way (maybe they're on a fancy boat or train or something? Or just keep staying at the same hotels? idk). They're both unhappy to see each other, but Luigi is still compulsively asking everyone he knows what they think of the young prof.

Bowser is the very first person to say, "I don't like that guy, I don't trust him. His story's not adding up."

"if he's such a hotshot archeologist, why haven't I heard of him? I read science publications. And where's all the money for this trip coming from? I know it's not grant money, no college is gonna pay for 5-star suites. Plus I'm kinda getting creep vibes. Are you getting creep vibes?" Luigi, practically vibrating with excitement: "I AM getting creep vibes!"

bruce lives in smallville au pt.4

-

clark wasn’t sure if bruce being homeschooled was a good thing or not.

he wished that he could go to school with bruce, spend recess with him, joined the same after school club, and spent the whole day together. at the same time, he was glad because that meant he was bruce’s only friend. it was a selfish thought, but he wasn't ready to share bruce with other smallville's kids.

bruce also seemed content with clark being his only friend. they usually spent their time reading comic books, roaming around the kent's massive cornfield, watching gray ghost, or just playing inside the house with bruce's extensive collection of toys.

ever since befriending bruce, clark no longer spent his days wallowing in sad thoughts, wondering if he would ever met someone who truly understood him in every ways. he would be surrounded by his classmates from school and still feeling absolutely lonely.

but now he had bruce. being around the boy changed him completely. he was so happy that it felt like a dream. he really loved being together with bruce. if he could, he never wanted to leave bruce's side and stayed with him 24/7.

it may seemed weird to other people, but it just made sense to clark.

he belonged together with bruce and vice versa.

nothing could ever separated them.

-

"ma, i'm back! i'm gonna go play at bruce's house as usual!" clark dropped his stuff as soon as he arrived home from school and bolted out from his house, running towards the wayne's home.

martha hadn't even responded to her son's remark before seeing running out with such vigor. the older woman smiled sheepishly, she was just glad that clark had found a friend in bruce.

she just hoped that clark was able to control his powers around bruce, there was no way knowing how the other boy would react upon witnessing clark's unusual powers. it would be devastating if clark had to lose his friend because of it.

meanwhile, clark had arrived in front of the wayne's doorsteps. he was still out of breath as the curly haired boy knocked loudly. bruce had promised that they would be reading the latest edition of gray ghost together and he was just so curious to see the continuation of the said series. he also couldn't wait to spend the rest of his day being in bruce's presence, sitting and laughing together. he had to leave early yesterday and wasn't able to spend his evening with bruce. clark almost threw a tantrum because of it, but he held on because clark knew he would be spending the next day with bruce again.

clark had expected to see bruce opening the door yet he was graced by alfred's presence. the boy's enthusiasm dimmed slightly before gaining back his cheerfulness. he still had to act polite around bruce's guardian.

"hello mr. alfred! sorry to bother you this afternoon, is bruce around? we promised to read gray ghost together!" said clark as he slightly peeked inside, still not finding bruce. clark looked up to see alfred's face and saw that the older man had a grim expression.

"ah, mr. clark. it is so nice to see you again but i'm afraid bruce is indisposed at the moment. he has been locking himself inside his room since yesterday evening. my apologies truly."

bruce? locking himself? clark was beginning to get worried about his friend. sure bruce was quiet and shy but he always loved being in the same room as alfred. it was extremely unusual for bruce to be separating himself from his guardian.

"is he okay? did something happen?"

alfred sighed before taking out a crumpled letter from the pocket of his blazer. "as i previously mentioned, master bruce is my godson and his parents are still living well but separated because of .... certain circumstances. master bruce was promised that he would be reunited with his parents in a couple of months, but due to unforeseen circumstances he won't be able to see them anytime soon."

clark was absolutely heartbroken for bruce. he couldn't imagine living apart from his parents! and yet his best friend had to be separated from his parents with no certainty of when he would be able to see them again. all he wanted to do now was to hug bruce tightly and comforted his best friend.

alfred continued to explain the matter, "master bruce received letters from his parents explaining their situation, but it was understandable that he didn't take it well. master bruce missed his parents terribly and this event has caused him to stay cooped up in his room. but now that you're here, why don't you try coming inside his room? i'm sure he would be glad to see his friend."

"really? you think it would be fine? i don't want to make anything worse for bruce. i hate that i could make bruce even sadder by intruding him."

alfred smiled softly at his master's friend before guiding the boy towards to bruce's room. "i'm sure it would be fine. he trusts you more than anything and now we can't leave him alone. he needs someone by his side, supporting him. i can't be that person now, it needs to be you, mr. clark."

clark stood in front of bruce's room hesitantly. he was afraid of ruining things, but he didn't want bruce to be alone. it was clear as day that his friend needed support. he didn't want to imagine bruce sitting alone, crying all by himself with no one. his heart broke just imagining it alone.

"here mr. clark. some soup for master bruce, he hasn't eaten all day. don't worry, i'm sure everything will be fine."

alfred left and now it was up to clark's actions to help bruce, his dearest best friend.

"knock knock, master bruce! it is i, clark kent, your best friend and number one confidant! will you let this humble peasant come in to your chamber?"

it was quiet for a few seconds before the door was finally opened, with bruce's head slightly peeking out.

"... you may enter."

-

sorry for the late update! i was on vacation with my family and also graduated from university!

i plan to update more regularly, at least once a week.

i also will be uploading other superbat or batfam aus, in a slightly different format.

Ao3

Tim just wanted coffee. That’s really all he desired in life. Coffee. His position as Red Robin. And Wayne Industries to get its shit together for one goddamn day. In that order.

“Are you shitting me? I was a fucking crime lord you little terror, I don’t give a fuck-”

He’d done an all-nighter in the Batcave. Again. Trying to crack a cold case he was sure had something to do with Riddler's vague warning a few nights ago. And he was so close, but his eyes had started to close for just a little too long.

So tell him why he walked into an argument that seemed to be based around the topic of murder, at 7 in the morning. Between Jason and Damian. Who both tried to kill him at least once. Respectively.

“And I am the Demon Prodigy of the League of Assassins. I could kill a man before I could speak.”

Tim stands in the doorway, contemplating if his need for coffee is higher than his potential rate of getting maimed in the dining room.

“Yeah, but you were fucking sheltered inside the bases like goddamn Rapunzel in her-”

“I was not sheltered. You of all people should know of Mother’s harshness for disobedience-“

“Oh and I’m sure you were so disobedient Mr. Goody Two Shoes-“

Ultimately, the urge for coffee wins. Tim crosses the kitchen as unnoticeably as he can, skirting the edges and keeping his footsteps as light as he can manage on 10 hours of sleep in the last week.

He’s busy, okay?

“I’ll admit I wasn’t raised to go against the orders of a higher-up but that did not mean-”

“Bull. Fucking. Shit.”

“Did my propensity for sneaking animals into the house escaped your notice? I thought you were better trained-“

“So what? You save every bird with a broken wing you come across, but you’d willingly slit the throat of a human?”

“Yes, Todd. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

The coffee pot is half full. Tim counts this as the one redeeming factor of this morning. The threat of getting stabbed is nothing in the face of sweet, sweet caffeine.

“What’s your fucking number then?”

“I can’t possibly know the exact-“

“Oh no, you don’t get to pull that shit on me-“

Tim considers pouring himself a cup, but he’s gonna drink the whole thing anyway and he’s exhausted enough to zone out during Alfred’s inevitable lecture, so he takes the whole pot and tips it back.

“I was sent out for missions when I was barely more than a toddler. You can’t expect me to remember every-“

“Ra’s had files on every fucking mission I did while brain dead and high on Lazarus rage, there’s no fucking way he didn’t have an exact-“

Tim chugs his precious coffee. The temperature is surprisingly cool enough that he doesn't immediately burn his tongue. Not that a few scorched taste buds would stop Tim from inhaling the only thing between him and unconscious. But it’s the thought that counts.

“What’s yours then, Todd?”

“Nope. Not until you tell me yours first. I’m not about to have you raise the number because I told you mine.”

“That’s preposterous. I would do no such thing.”

Tim calculates his chances of making it back out of the kitchen with a quarter pot of coffee in his hands and decides his caffeine fix is safer off with a few counters between him and his homicidal brothers.

And yah know. His physical well-being. But that’s pretty low on his ‘fucks to give list’ at the moment.

“I don’t trust a fucking word coming out of your mouth-“

“There’s an easy way to settle this if you’d just-“

“What? Shut up? Drop the argument? No fucking-“

“We can write it down separately and then show it to each other at the same time."

“…huh.”

Tim looks up in genuine fear when both of his siblings go quiet. That’s never a good sign. Not in this house.

There’s a window to his right that he could probably smash through if it came to it.

Neither of them are looking at him though, just regarding each other with much less animosity than a few seconds ago. Tim decides he’s probably fine and goes back to his coffee.

“I will go retrieve a piece of paper and two pens.”

Damian leaves the room and Tim freezes like if he stays still enough it’ll keep Jason from noticing him. Unfortunately, now that his older brother’s attention is directed to his surroundings and not just screaming at a 12-year-old, he makes direct eye contact with Tim.

“Oh hey, Timmers. How long have you been here?”

Tim stares at him blankly. He- doesn’t know what answer Jason wants from him and he’s not willing to face his older brother’s wrath if he’d been having what he thought was a private conversation.

“Sorry about the noise. I hope we didn’t wake you up.” Jason says after it’s clear that he isn't getting answers out of Tim.

As if the manor isn’t literally soundproofed. For this exact reason.

Tim’s 17 years of social etiquette training won’t let him just not answer the open-ended comment, but god does he wish that it did.

“No, I was already up.”

Jason nods as if he was expecting that answer. Which is fair. Tim’s sure he looks just as tired as he feels. His eye bags could hold all of his emotional trauma. They’re Guchi.

“And does Alfred know you’re drinking straight from the pot?” Jason motions to the carafe Tim’s clutching like a lifeline. Because it is.

Tim opens his mouth to lie through his teeth, but is saved by Damian’s re-entry. Wow, he’s never been so glad to see his stab-happy younger brother.

True to his word, the kid’s carrying a few pieces of paper and pens. Tim could leave now. He could casually walk right past them, out of the kitchen, and back to the cave to keep working on his case, but dammit, he’s invested now.

He’s still not sure what this argument is about exactly, but he’s willing to wait a few more minutes to satiate his curiosity now that he’s tentatively sure that the argument isn’t going to evolve into physical violence.

“I’ve acquired the tools to finish this once and for all, Todd.” Damian announces, sliding half of his spoils to Jason.

“Great. We’ll write our body count down and on 3 we’ll turn ‘em around. Got it?”

“Don’t tell me what to do” Damian grumbles, but writes dutifully anyway. The kid would be funny if he didn’t back his threats up with swords.

Tim is. Still lost, but he’s always secretly wondered how many people his brothers have killed. In a morbid way. Mostly because he wants to know if the murder attempts on him were a particularly special event or just a pattern. For his mental health's sake.

“Got it?” Jason asks, holding his paper close to his chest so no one can peek. Tim doesn’t know who would, considering he’s the only one in the kitchen that’s not a part of this squabble, but Damian copies the movement and Tim finds himself inching closer, taking the last swig of his coffee.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three!”

They flip the papers around and for a moment the kitchen is quiet.

“FUCK YEAH!” Jason pumps his fist in the air with a whoop. “Ha! Take that, Demon Brat! I’m the Robin with the highest kill count!”

Tim spits out his coffee and coughs violently. It’s partially because he got some in his lungs, but also to cover the incredulous laughter bursting uncontrollably out of him. It takes him a good few seconds to get his breathing under control, but when he looks up, his brothers are staring at him.

For a moment he’s tempted. So fucking tempted. Because he hasn’t told anyone anything more than bits and pieces about his time with the League. Hell, the only reason his family even knows about his little stint playing lap dog for Ra’s, is because he choked out a vague explanation about his missing spleen when he went into sepsis.

They don’t know about the missions he was sent on. The people he sold out. And most importantly, the multiple bases he blew up because he was crazier than the Joker after Bart and Kon’s death and then the near miss with Bruce.

The bases he absolutely didn’t evacuate. With hundreds of people inside. A few actually avalanched down mountainsides, and he’d eat his Batarang if any of them survived.

The only word he’d confidently use to describe his mental state then, is feral.

He didn’t have to blow them up. He really didn’t. A good few of the bases he’d never actually seen before he snuck in to level the place, but he’d been having a shitty year so naturally, he was going to make sure Ra’s got to have one too.

Not to mention that Tim was as depressed as he’d ever been and wasn’t particularly giving a lot of fucks about if he died during his warpath. He’d already lost a spleen, what were a few more organs?

So this argument? This competition? He finds it objectively fucking hilarious.

Damian and Jason are still staring at him in bewilderment, and for a moment -just a wild moment- he thinks about telling them.

Explaining how he was just. So done. And could only think of one way out, so he systematically hacked into every base he could get his hands on. Stole as many files as he could during his time constraint. And then blew all of them sky-high.

Thought about telling them how on one particularly bad night, gone through every log of the people in those bases. How he hadn’t been ‘sick’ as he claimed the week after he managed to crawl out of his safe house.

He was just too horrified to look anyone in the eye.

It would be funny to watch his family’s expressions go through the five stages of grief and add a few more just for funsies, if they even believed him at all. But no. Tim had his secrets and he was going to take them to the grave.

He grinned at his brothers, patted Jason on the shoulder with a quiet congratulations, and strolled out of the kitchen.

Tim had cases to solve and letting his family assume he wasn’t capable of murder was better for all of them in the long run.

No matter how wrong they were.

👻

In my defense. Writing prompts make the brain noodle go brr. You can blame @coffinbirds and @batcavescolony for these posts.

is SO fucking interesting to me, bcuz nobody but them and alfred got to see them when it was really "father-son" moments. Jason always was there when they were fighting, and Dick was already an "adult", or a young man, well. He wasn't to Bruce what he himself was. Tim saw the same, the rift between first son and father while grieving a family member, etc, etc. But Dick did get to see Bruce's relationship with everyone.

In an au, bcuz i fucking love aus idk, the idea of the batfam meeting dick and bruce during a time where there wasn't anyone else could be so interesting, bcuz it could be super young bruce, kinda crazy-sweet dickie, and ALFRED WITH HAIR. And if its kid dick, then he is mad but happy, and he and bruce are almost like brothers, they play, they pass time, the whole package. But if its TEENAGE dick

oh boy

he was a menace, all the things he siblings think he wasn't, or probably don't remember he was. And his fights with bruce are LEGENDARY, the whole angsty drama family soap and all of that. They screamed, and hurt each other, and butted heads, and the family kinda understand how they can love each other yet be so distant for moments. Dick was an only son to the man who used to be the most permissive man, but also not the best dad, and they were ALSO not "dad-son" 24/7, more like "ward-guardian" or "brothers" or "friends".

Edit- thank you @redrobinapologist

Damian’s Design actually took me the longest. And I changed his quote 10 minutes before the Kickstarter launched. Before “Great Expectations”, you could’ve been seeing “light in the dark”.

I like both versions, but I feel the current one fits much better and am happy with where his final design ended up. Also you all have until the 21st of February to pledge to the Kickstarter for the chance to WIN A GIVEAWAY. Everything in that the Kickstarter produces could be yours if you pledge at ANY PIN TIER. Here’s that link :)