Bruce, Who Has A Problem Expressing Emotions Because He Was Teased For Them In School As The "crazy Wayne

Jason finds out the same stalker kid that used to hang off gargoyles to photograph him mid-patrol is the kid that forced his way into the Robin mantle the second he died and he immediately assumes that Tim's been plotting his downfall since he was seven years old and has been waiting for the perfect opportunity to steal his job.

Jason, looking at the footage of Robin!Tim that Talia shows him: that mad bastard... it's a coup. the evil genius has been planning this for half a decade!

Damian, peering over Jason's shoulder at the weedy 13 yr old chasing a murderous Batman around and looking Stressed™ as he does so:

Damian: *slowly looking between Jason and the footage of Tim*

Jason, murmuring: it's a conspiracy...

Damian:

Damian, to Talia: put him back in the pit he needs another round

Everybody know the scene in The Dark Knight where some idiot dresses like Batman and Bruce gets real pissed at him. Well it goes a little something like this:

Copycat Batman: What’s the difference between you and me!?

Batman: I’m not wearing hockey pads.

Alternatively:

Copycat Nightwing: What’s the difference between you and me!?

Nightwing: CAN YOU DO THIS? *insane quadruple flip off the roof with his middle finger out.*

Obviously not Red Hood: What’s the difference between you and me!?

Red Hood: I died.

Copycat Red Hood, mumbling: well obviously not.

Red Hood, cocking his gun: Wanna change that?

Copycat Red Robin: What’s the difference between you and me!?

Red Robin: Spandex isn’t usually something I wear on the regular. And that latex cowl isn’t doing you any favours either. While we’re at it- [proceeds to roast the shit out of the copycat until they’re begging him to stop. He doesn’t.]

Copycat Robin: What’s the difference between you and me!?

Robin, unsheathing his Katana: Run.

Copycat Robin: What?

Robin: If you care for your life you will know to flee. I will not give you another warning.

Divorced dads Optimus and Megatron have to spend Christmas together for their sons. Chaos ensues.

Nyssa: The sister that makes Talia seem sane

Nyssa (an hour into her ranting): Cats and dogs will live together, babies will cry, towers will fall!

Talia: Nyssa.

Nyssa: The humans will consume each other, and the world bleeds—

Talia (sighing, annoyed): Nyssa.

Nyssa: Yes, it bleeds off the edge of this flat earth—

Talia: NYSSA!

Nyssa (irritated): Whaaat?

Talia: I’m not letting you babysit Damian, and not a damn thing you say will cause the apocalypse if I don’t!

Bruce (defending Talia): And the world isn’t flat. I can’t believe I’m on Talia’s side right now.

Talia: I’m surprised, too. Nyssa, stop talking about nonsense theories and leave!

Nyssa: Fools! Only fools believe the world is round. It’s flat! Hidden by a dome force field!

Talia (pointing to the door): Get out.

Nyssa (continuing): The snow giants keep it guarded!

Talia: Get your ass out before you poison my child's mind!

Talia grabbed her ranting sister by the hair and dragged her out of the room.

Nyssa (whining): Hemar, you never let me talk!

As the bickering sisters left, Bruce turned to Ra's, who silently sipped tea while observing the entire exchange. Damian sat nearby, busy coloring a picture he had just drawn, paying his crazy aunt no mind.

Bruce: Huh, Talia is—

Ra's: The saner of the two, yes. I cannot fathom where Nyssa got that level of insanity from.

Ra's suddenly broke into a wheezing fit that lasted ten seconds, a lingering side effect of the Lazarus Pit. Bruce instinctively pulled his son closer, ensuring he was protected.

Bruce (sarcastically): It’s a mystery, I’ll tell you that much.

*hemar is arabic for donkey*

*Tim being thrown back in time and deciding to not get attached to past versions of his family*

Also Tim: *somehow ends up with baby Jason following him around like a duckling*

Tim: ...well fuck

__

fic: A Family History Rewritten by MysticMalady, TheBestTinyDragon

This happens a lot actually

Jason: Hey, how did my phone break?

Dick: You were drunk yesterday.

Jason: And?

Dick: You threw it.

Jason: Why?

Dick: You turned on airplane mode and kept screaming, “FLY, DAMN YOU!”

Jason: And why didn’t you stop me?!

Dick: I was too busy laughing my ass off. Plus, remember that time I was really drunk, and instead of taking me to the bathroom, you threw me in bed? I woke up having wet myself!

Jason: Yeah— to be fair, you were going to piss yourself regardless. There’s no way you could hold your Richard.

Dick: Stop calling it that!

Jason: Stop going by Dick.

Christmas at Wayne Manor is usually hectic. With various arguments about varying topics and an inevitable snowball fight that ended with the four boys being draped in blankets in front of the fire because they were all out there in nothing but sweatpants.

Between serving rounds of hot chocolate and adding new logs to the fire, Alfred would be seen cleaning up the discarded tissue paper and scraps of wrapping paper that littered the floor.

That is until the year Bruce gave each one of his children weighted blankets, and the hours which in previous years had been flooded with shouting and shivering bodies were replaced with the sound of deep breathing.

—————————————————

The lack of noise coming from the drawing room was concerning as Bruce made his way back to the room after helping Alfred finish cleaning up the wrapping paper. Alfred was currently in the kitchen beginning preparations for Christmas dinner.

As he stepped into the room, bracing himself for a snowball to the face—because there’s no other way his children would be this quiet unless they were planning a sneak attack—but was surprised to find his children weren’t scheming as he had thought. Dick was sitting in front of the couch, Tim and Stephanie leaning their heads on either of his shoulders and Damian curled up on his lap, their weighted blankets draped over each of them while Jason laid on the couch under his own blanket. All of them were asleep.

Leaning against the doorframe, Bruce crossed his arms and watched the deep breathing of his kids, the soft music coming from the record player Dick had given to Alfred floating over to him.

“I believe you made a good decision for their gifts this year, Master Bruce,” Alfred said softly, coming to a stop beside him.

Bruce smiled. “I’m afraid Jason won’t be able to keep up his promise to help you with Christmas dinner this year, Alfred.”

“That’s alright, Master Bruce,” the butler replied. “Let them sleep. I do not think any of them have gotten this much sleep in a while.”

Bruce chuckled. Between regular villains of the week and the holiday schemes from a myriad of different villains, they had all been swamped on patrol.

“I’d offer to help, but I think we both know it’s for the best that I don’t,” Bruce said.

“I appreciate the thought nonetheless,” Alfred replied.

They stood there in silence for a moment.

Then, as Alfred turned to leave, Bruce said, “Merry Christmas, Alfred.”

“Merry Christmas, Master Bruce.”

Damian: I check out of school to go volunteer at the hospital

Alfred: *raising from the grave* FINALLY a member of this family with a NORMAL hobby, and it's volunteering at the hospital *dabbs corner of his eye with a handkerchief* it's about time.

Superman, trying to befriend Batman: If not friend, why friend shaped?

Literally everyone else, looking at Batman's costume, designed to be menacing and incite fear: He is NOT friend shaped!!