geeky-nightphilosopher

[geeky-nightphilosopher]

I love fear toxin Jason Todd no matter the circumstance, but what I would love to see is a fear toxin Jason Todd that goes 100% guard dog mode on Damian (like he did in the league).

Imagine that they're out on the field trying to manage the latest Arkham breakout (seriously that place needs better security) and despite their best efforts Jason and Damian end up in Scarecrow's neck of the woods.

Some blunt force damage to the helmet and giving spare gas masks to the unlucky few still left in the streets has landed Jason up shit creek without a paddle, but in true Jason fashion he decides to suffer silently until the breakout is over and then freakout over the moving shadows at the edges of his vision.

After what is entirely too long breathing in a cocktail of Scarecrow's finest, he's realized that whatever the fuck is happening, it is not good.

After splitting up when entering the area, Damian sees a clearly agitated Red Hood stalking towards him. Noting the damaged helmet and erratic behavior, Damian calls for backup before he is promptly scooped up by an unsettlingly silent Jason.

Jason takes him to an alleyway or a roof and sets him a corner while he paces around and mutters to himself. Damian isn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth and is just thankful that Jason didn't try to kill him.

Backup in the form of Dick, Tim, and Bruce arrive shortly and are met with the full fury of a scared Red Hood. They try and convince Jason that they are not here to hurt either of them, but all Jason sees are several dark figures trying to get to his brother.

Eventually Tim thinks to throw sleeping gas being that Jason is the only one without a functional filter.

The ride home is awkward, everyone keeps glancing at where an unconscious Red Hood is curled around Damian, who is sheepishly avoiding eye contact with the rest of the car, but makes no move to extract himself from his brothers hold.

[geeky-nightphilosopher]

Alfred felt as though it was incredibly inappropriate for a butler to accompany his young master to any sort of gala or gathering so Bruce had to get used to being by himself very quickly at a young age

Due to being left all alone when he would usually be with his parents, Bruce was put in increasingly unsafe situations over and over. Most of the time, there was no safe adult for him to feel comfortable enough telling. And if there was, how would he know they were safe?

He could tell Alfred, but what good would that do? Alfred has told him time and time again that he is his employee, nothing more and nothing less. Alfred cannot help him. Alfred cannot save him

Alfred doesn’t want to

I believe that at a very early age, due to how most of the socialites and rich people are in Gotham, Bruce had to get used to unwanted stares, touches, and advances

And he’s so pretty. He’s been so pretty ever since he was small, even with his parents alive they had to work hard to keep him safe. To keep others away. To draw a hard line in the sand for what is acceptable and what is not. But now they’re gone and he’s trying to keep himself safe. But people always want to touch, take, possess, and destroy pretty things

But all of his children are pretty too.

With all of his kids he makes sure that they’re as safe as can be, unlike how it was with him

The first time that he brings Dick to a gala, he holds the boy the entire time. Dick’s face is mostly tucking into Bruce’s suit jacket, shielding him from the flashes of the paparazzi and unwanted stares. Especially with his ‘exotic’ heritage of being Romani… it’s a recipe for disaster in Gotham

Bruce refuses to let a single person touch Dick, even socialites that he trusts. He knows how quickly someone you trust can turn on you once they realize you’re vulnerable.

He keeps Jason by his side as well. Gotham high society hates anyone who didn’t grow up rich. Is he’s not by Jason’s side, he makes sure Dick is. Dick can now fend for himself, but Bruce always makes sure they’re in his line of sight.

Tim has been to these parties before, and considering how negligent his parents were… Bruce makes sure to tell Tim that he would never be mad at him for anything that happened and he is not to blame. That adults should have protected him and saved him. He tells Tim all the things he wished someone had told him when he was younger. They hug and cry about it.

He’s always so thankful that Stephanie never wanted to go to galas as mean as it makes him sound. She never had to be subjected to the cruelties of adults who had no business leering after young girls. Now that she’s older and sometimes pops in if Tim’s going, Bruce knows that they’ll protect each other.

Cass is strong and smart, but she’s also very very new to this life and more vulnerable than the rest of his kids. Bruce wishes he could give her a sense of normalcy. It’s just another thing that’s he failed at.

He knows that if push came to shove, like the rest of his children, she would not hesitate to defend herself. But there should be no shove. She shouldn’t have to. Bruce dances with her all through the night every time she decides to grace a gala with her magnificent presence. It keeps her happy, it keeps her away from harm

His youngest baby is a fire cracker, ready to take on anyone and anything that could possibly be perceived as a threat to him and his family. As much as his other babies joke that he keeps Damian nearby to stop him from stabbing people, he doesn’t want anyone to look at Damian.

Damian is barely older than he was when he returned back to Gotham high society. The only difference is that Damian now has him and all of his siblings. It’s still hard to let go, even if he knows his children are there to keep an eye on everything

Duke is very similar to Jason in more ways than one, epically since he was also born on the ‘poorer’ side of Gotham that most elites loathe unjustly. He’s seen it before, even with high standing black families. Being suddenly accused of stealing a watch or pickpocketing an expensive pearl necklace. Lives ruined simply because of the color of their skin

Nothing like that will ever happen to Duke in his presence. Bruce knows he can’t protect Duke from all the racism in the world, but man if he doesn’t want to try

Bruce has never let his family deal with his issues. He believes he’s simply not worth the trouble. So whenever he gets hit on at galas in ways that make him uncomfortable he just fakes a smile. When he feels unfamiliar hands touching him and grabbing at his body, he fakes more smiles and leans into if there are too many people watching.

Just as he’s about to make an excuse, any kind of excuse to finally get away and take a breather, Dick suddenly pops up in front of him while he feels Jason and Duke slide up behind him, pushing away the elites that had circled him

Bruce makes a soft confused sound, trying to figure out what was happening, but then Damian’s tugging on his sleeve and he already has his baby in his arms. The whirlwind that is Tim and Steph together sweep him away from the confused group of elites.

The group makes their way back over to where Cassandra is smiling expectantly, giggling softly at the confused expression on Bruce’s face.

“Dance with me?” She requested softly, knowing that Bruce would never refuse her. Bruce squeezes Damian to his chest before handing him over to Tim, which Damian surprisingly doesn’t protest

Bruce takes Cassandra’s hand and they dance around the ballroom floor with ease, over and over one of Bruce’s children came and swept him away before anyone else could get the chance

“Don’t worry, we got you Dad.” Dick smiled softly as Bruce spun him around before being passed over to Stephanie and Damian.

“I know.” Bruce chuckled, feeling so safe for the first time in a long time. “I know.”

[geeky-nightphilosopher]

*Gala*

Dick: *Walks in with a jar of olives for some reason*

Bruce: *longsuffering sigh* There's olives on the table.

Dick: I want these olives.

Bruce: *another sigh. Takes the jar and opens it.*

Dick: Thanks, Bruce!

When Dick was a kid and couldn’t open jars cause his hands were too small or he wasn’t strong enough he’d give it to Bruce to open cause he’s Batman so he’ll obviously be able to open a jar

( yes Alfred also can but Dick will take any excuse to bother Bruce, and Alfred encourages this cause it’s funny when Bruce’s work gets disturbed by the kid wanting peanut butter)

So it becomes a habit and years later, when Dick is very much an adult he still makes Bruce open jars for him, like yeah he could open it but why would he if his dads there that’s his job not Dicks

[geeky-nightphilosopher]

Imagine in the beginning, before Red Hood's goons figure out that he is a baby, they think he is a single dad of a bunch of kids, instead. And it is not like they are wrong, since he does parent all kids of Crime Alley, but they mean not them. They mean Bats, instead.

No one is sure how old Red Hood is. But they saw a single white streak of the hair once, so he is... old, right? And these Batkids, they always hang around him, whining and asking for something - surely, it is his kids? Right? That gotta be it.

Red Hood: Now, back to- Sorry, I need to take a call. Goons: Sure, sir. Red Hood: What... Oh my god, Red. What do you mean, you don't know how to wash the carpet without- Spoiled brat. Okay, listen to me, you first need to get a really hot water... Goons: That's definitely his son being in troubles.

(It was Tim, who accidentally ruined Alfred's favourite carpet. He was in big troubles that day.)

Robin, appearing on the doorstep of Red Hood's den: Scram. I am here to see Hood. Goons, staring at little Damian: Hm-m. Red Hood, pushing them away: Bad day? (Damian wordlessly raising his arms to be picked up by Jason) Okay. It is fine. Goons: Hm-m-M.

Nightwing, whining: You are so boring. Why don't you want to play Twister with us this Sunday? Red Hood, rolling his eyes: Shut up. Goons, overhearing the conversation: Kids, am I right? Red Hood: Huh?

Goons, watching Batman and Red Hood shouting on each other on the rooftop: Hey, do we think Batman is also his kid?.. Goons: (thoughtful pause) Red Hood, completely pissed off by his dad in the meanwhile: I am TIRED of you. Go back to your stupid ass CAVE and think about your behaviour. I don't want to see you AGAIN. Batman: But- Red Hood: OUT OF MY TURF. NOW!!! Goons, staring at Batman, who walks away sulkily: ...HM-M.

Red Hood, staring at the "Best Dad" merch, given him by his goons on his birthday: I am confused. Do they mean kids from Alley, or they view themselves as my kids... What does it mean? Uh. Whatever. It is kinda sweet. Red Hood, on the next day: Thanks, guys. Very thoughtful of you! Goons, high-fiving each other: Sure, boss!

[geeky-nightphilosopher]

I need a 5+1 style story where Bruce Wayne forgets he has kids. And not in the "he has his memory wiped" or amnesia. I'm talking like he's new to being a father (each and every time,) that he genuinely forgets that he has kids.

And the one is either he sends a message to his family for a movie night or his kids forget that he is their dad/ father figure after some sort of failed patrol.

And Alfred is just there silently judging his family.

[geeky-nightphilosopher]

I appreciate that all of Bruce Wayne's kids are versions of himself that he can't express because of ✨️image✨️.

Like;

Dick Grayson is the happy, go-lucky personality that Bruce used to have before his parents died. That bright light that always gleamed. A certain type of hope for a better tomorrow.

Jason Todd is his uncaged violence personified. Literally. With his anger and protective instincts. Jason is what he would be if he ever crossed the line.

Timothy Drake is the laid back, seen as timid, but strong and honest part of him. The hard worker, who if he didn't have somebody to tell him to stop and take a breath- he'd work himself to death.

Cassandra Cain is the silent side. The quick thinker and mysterious personality. The even tempered and bold side that keeps people in line.

Stephanie Brown is the spontaneous and unhinged side that he wishes he still allows. The side that keeps people guess and wanting to keep people guessing.

Duke Thomas is the rebel without a cause. The one that toes the line, but still looks for the best.

Damian Wayne is just him now. The serious, get-out-of- my- way, attitude people expect from him. The dominant personality.

Basically, Bruce Wayne doesn't have shoulder angels... he has shoulder children

[geeky-nightphilosopher]

The Batkids have the same twenty dollar bill that has been going around for like 16 years straight or something - beginning with Jason and Dick

The story goes:

Jason, 12: I bet you $20 that I can make Bruce cry without saying a word

Dick: Deal.

Jason: *walks up to Bruce and hugs with love in his eyes*

Bruce: *violently sobbing and picking Jason up*

Dick: *angrily walks by and slyly hands Jason a 20*

—

A few weeks later it’s

Dick, on a skyscraper looking down at a different one: I bet $20 that I can make this landing

(Info: this genuinely should not be possible for Plot Reasons)

Jason: okay but if you die I get to keep it

Dick: *jumps and lands it*

Jason: *sadly climbs back down to the street and hands a proud Dick the SAME $20 he earned not too long ago*

—-

This goes on between them for years - up until you know what

—-

Dick, out of habit: I bet you $20 you can’t do six front flips in a row

Tim, new and eager to please: watch me bitch

Tim: *does it perfectly - maybe with a tad bit of a waver but still*

Dick:

Dick, crying hysterically for many reasons: *hands the faithful $20 over*

—-

(For plot reasons Tim never spends it for X reason)

Steph: I bet you $20 I can make that guy over there ask for my number

Tim: okay

Steph: *comes back over after successfully getting him to ask*

Tim: *handing over the 20*

—

Cass:

Steph: oh you’re fucking on

Cass:

Steph: DAMNIT *hands $20 over*

—-

Cass:

Damian: -tt- yes obviously I can. I shall take on the bet

Damian: *wins*

Cass: >:(

—-

Damian: Thomas, I will give you a 20 dollar if you can scare Father

Duke: Hell yeah

Duke: *goes on a quest for a few days before he genuinely scares the crap out of Bruce*

Duke: GIVE ME THE $20 HOE

—

By now, it’s a very big inside joke between the bats

—

It’s Dicks turn with the $20 when it happens like the first day

Jason: hey I bet I can make Bruce cry

Dick: oh please he hasn’t since 2013

Jason: Watch me

Jason: *walks up to Bruce, says a few words, hugs him tightly, walks back over to Dick*

Jason: Wait for it…

Bruce: *wonders off and a few moments later - you hear crying*

Dick: *passes a very wrinkly and used $20*

Jason: what the hell is this? The routing number has been out of rotation for years

Dick: oh it’s the same one that we used back when we made stupid bets - it’s been around the family

Jason:

Jason: *definitely not crying*

—-

Anyway; the reason I made this post was cuz of this headcanon

The bat siblings might have a $20 bill but there’s a 75% chance they won’t give it to you because “oh it’s not spending money”

“(Bat) YOU’RE A MULTIBILLIONAIRE”

“I know but this one is special-“

[geeky-nightphilosopher]

Just read this one for the second time, which I did not realize until I started reading. Everyone should go do the same.

[geeky-nightphilosopher]

So, I was today years old that the jingle; "Batman smells, Robin laid an egg. Batmobile lost a wheel, and Joker got away."

...yeah it's about Jason Todd...

[geeky-nightphilosopher]

😂😂😂

Leverage 4x14- "The Boys' Night Out Job"

[geeky-nightphilosopher]

Dick: Hey, can I do the thing?

*everyone looks at him*

Kal:... Oh no.

Dick: *suddenly in a batsuit* I'M BATMAN!

The Entire Batfam: Ugh.

I am still waiting, Hishe…

Kal: Bruce, there you are — what in the world?

Bruce: Hey Kal.

Kal: Who are all these kids?!

Bruce: My Bat Family. I’m a dad now.

Kal: Since when?!

Bruce: Since 1940. Try to keep up.

Kal: I thought it was just the one! Hi, Nightwing.

Dick: Hi Superman! Yeah, I have siblings now.

Kal: And how’s that working out?

Dick: Most of us have died at least once.

Kal: …What?

Bruce: Hey Kal, check it out. This one glows in the dark! Heheh!

Duke: :D

Damian: Father, I’m hungry. When are we having dinner?

Bruce: How many criminals have you caught today?

Damian: [holds up three villains] Is this sufficient?

Bruce: Eh, it’s good enough. Here. [tosses him a tofu hotdog, like just the dog part] Keep working on it. Three more and you get the bun.

Kal: [horrified silence]

Dick: Hmph! When I was Robin, I could catch at least five criminals before dinner.

Tim: Oh my gosh, Dick, no one cares!

Jason: No one cares about anything in this stinkin’ family. Where were you all when I died, huh?!

Everyone: *groan*

Damian: You are not the only one of us who has died, Todd! Quit your moaning!

Tim: Yeah!

Damian: You shut up. The only thing you’ve ever lost is your spleen.

Duke: And his parents.

Everyone except Damian: *parental trauma* AH!

Bruce: I told you never to mention that!

Kal: I can’t believe what I’m watching… Does Alfred know about this?!

Bruce: Yeah, totally, he’s cool with it.

Kal: *narrowing his eyes* I have a very hard time believing that.

Bruce: Well, he works for me, so shut up.

Kal: *face palm*

[geeky-nightphilosopher]

New parent Bruce at two in the morning: Why aren’t you in bed?

9-year-old Dick, sitting at the table eating ice cream: Because I’m in the kitchen.

Bruce tiredly, digging out some coffee: And why are you in the kitchen?

Dick: Because it’s where the ice cream is.

[geeky-nightphilosopher]

We should talk more about shoes that Batfam wear with their suits. Like, surely, they have some special shoes that are made specifically for the vigilante activies, but imagine them forgetting to switch it on different occasions?

Bruce, hurrying in a place of crime after running away from gala, so goons die of laughter seeing Batman in rich-ass, patent leather shoes, and keep making fun of him.

Dick gets an emergency call in the middle of his salsa dancing classes, and everyone witnesses Nightwing's perfect acrobatic skills followed by a clicking of his boots.

Jason intentionally comes to the shootout in his cowboy boots. Was he inspired by Dante from Devil May Cry? Was it Roy's idea? Who fucking knows. But he keeps making awful puns the whole time.

Tim absolutely knowingly keeps putting on his favourite converses, because he doesn't give a fuck and other shoes make his feet hurt. Also, he looks cool, and teenagers adore Red Robin for that alone.

Cass fights in her ballet flats once. It should be funny, but the sight of her, kicking everyone's asses while acting like she is in the middle of the ballet practice, makes everyone shiver for another few weeks.

Stephanie buys herself those kinds of shoes that light up in neon when you step on the ground harshly. She decides she doesn't want to wear anything else in her whole life and gets excited when she they light up with violet, matching her suit.

Damian once woke up by his father in the middle of the night during some important case. He is so sleepy that he leaves for the patrol in his plushie, cow-themed slippers. Others are too sleep-deprived to notice.

Duke has the worst week in his life thanks to goons and finals. He is so frustrated that he just... throws his flip-flops straight in the criminal's head. The video made by some random civilian circulates in the internet non-stop.

[geeky-nightphilosopher]

M'kay, hear me out;

Batfamily × Reader, Bruce Wayne × Reader Soulmate AU where all of Bruce's kids, from Dick to Damian (including Steph and Babs,) meet Bruce's soulmate before he does. And the thing is; the Reader has symbols all around her body representing each one of the kids. It's when they touch and the color fills the symbol.

For example; Dick- Blue, Jason- Red, Tim- Yellow, etc...

If the symbol is the person's favorite color they are platonic. If the symbols color is gold or silver it's romantic.

[geeky-nightphilosopher]

Night Window

batman x soulmate

bruce wayne soulmate

warnings: too long because I dont know how to break chapters. fluff.

In a world where soulmates' first words to each other are etched permanently on their wrists, the words serve as both a mystery and a revelation. For Y/N, these words are "go home," a phrase that seems to hint at a past connection or a direction yet to be understood.

Far away, in a grand and meticulously maintained mansion, Bruce Wayne, the enigmatic figure known as Batman, stands poised for action. Alfred Pennyworth, his loyal butler, adjusts his attire, ensuring every detail is perfect. Bruce glances momentarily at his concealed wrist, where the inscription "yes sure Mr. Batman sir" is etched in neat, unassuming script. The words, seemingly mundane, are a stark contrast to the dark and mysterious persona he presents to the world. They are a subtle reminder of the person who once spoke them, a hint of normalcy in his otherwise intense and secretive life.

In the opulent Wayne Manor, Bruce Wayne, known for his dual life as the vigilante Batman, carefully conceals the words etched on his wrist. These words, "yes sure Mr. Batman sir," are a hidden detail Bruce deliberately keeps from public view. His wealth and the complexity of his dual identity make him wary of deceit and exploitation. To protect himself from potential impostors seeking to exploit his fortune or uncover his secret identity, Bruce ensures the inscription remains hidden from prying eyes.

Alfred Pennyworth, his ever-watchful confidant, helps prepare Bruce for his nocturnal duties, ensuring that every aspect of his appearance is impeccable. The weight of the hidden inscription represents more than just a potential connection; it signifies Bruce's ongoing struggle to maintain control over his life and shield himself from those who might wish to manipulate or harm him. The words, though seemingly innocuous, serve as a reminder of the complex balance Bruce must maintain between his public persona and his clandestine operations.

As Batman roams the dark alleys of Gotham, he engages in a fierce battle with a group of thugs. Amidst the chaos, his gaze briefly locks with a woman who seems to be caught in the crossfire. Reacting instinctively, he shouts, "Go home!" The woman, clearly startled, responds without hesitation, "Yes sure Mr. Batman sir," before quickly retreating to safety.

Later, as Batman regains his composure and regroups, Alfred's voice crackles through the comms, cutting through the tension. "Were those your soulmate words, sir?" Alfred inquires, his tone a mixture of curiosity and concern. Batman pauses, the weight of the question settling over him. The connection between the woman's response and the words etched on his wrist is undeniable, leaving him with more questions than answers as he continues his vigil over Gotham.

Bruce, grappling with the realization that the woman he just encountered is his soulmate, feels a mix of surprise and intrigue. His protective instincts and wariness, shaped by his dual life and past experiences, compel him to consider the implications of this newfound connection carefully.

Meanwhile, Y/N, who has been trying to navigate her life with the unsettling words "go home" etched on her wrist, finds herself in a state of fear and confusion. The abrupt encounter with Batman and his subsequent command has left her disoriented. The realization that her soulmate is Gotham's dark guardian raises questions and anxieties about the dangerous world he inhabits and the implications of their connection. Struggling to process her emotions, she wonders what this means for her future and how she can reconcile her ordinary life with the extraordinary presence of Batman.

In the quiet confines of the Batcave, Bruce Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth engage in a rare and intimate conversation. The flickering lights from the computer screens cast shadows over their faces as Bruce reflects on the startling revelation of finding his soulmate.

Bruce’s voice is tinged with a mixture of determination and vulnerability. “I can’t ignore what happened tonight, Alfred. There’s something about her—something real. I’ve felt alone for so long, but now… there’s this pull, this connection I can’t deny.”

Alfred, ever the sage and supportive presence, meets Bruce’s gaze with a reassuring nod. “Sir, you’ve been through so much. The fates have given you this chance to experience something beyond the shadows. You’re allowed to feel this emotion. It’s a sign that someone was meant for you, that there’s more to life than this endless fight.”

Bruce’s eyes, usually steely and guarded, soften with the weight of Alfred’s words. “But what if I can’t protect her from the dangers of my world?”

Alfred places a steady hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “You’ve always fought for justice, Bruce. You can fight for this, too. Embrace it. You’ve earned the chance to find happiness. Don’t let fear or duty make you push away what fate has brought you.”

The affirmation from Alfred settles over Bruce, a new resolve forming within him. As he looks toward the city’s skyline, he acknowledges that this connection might be the key to filling the void he’s long felt. The path ahead is uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, he is willing to embrace the possibility of something beyond the shadows.

As Bruce delves into the life of Y/N, he uncovers details that paint a vivid picture of her world. He discovers that Y/N is a kind and gentle soul, working as an English literature professor at Gotham University. Her days are spent immersed in the world of classic literature and guiding her students through the complexities of language and storytelling.

Her academic and personal interests reflect a deep passion for knowledge and an unwavering dedication to her craft. Despite the pressures of her profession, Y/N remains grounded and compassionate, qualities that stand in stark contrast to the darkness Bruce navigates as Batman. Her life in academia and her inherent kindness offer Bruce a glimpse into a world far removed from his own, and he finds himself increasingly drawn to her.

As Bruce learns more about her—her favorite authors, her teaching philosophy, and her quiet moments of reflection—he becomes more resolved to bridge the gap between their worlds. The contrast between their lives highlights the profound nature of their connection, making him more determined to protect and understand Y/N, and to see where their fated bond might lead.

Late into the night, the Gotham Library stands eerily silent, its grand architecture casting long shadows across the vast rows of bookshelves. Y/N, determined to escape the unsettling reality of discovering Batman as her soulmate, seeks solace among the pages of classic literature. She immerses herself in the books, her eyes scanning the text with fervent concentration, as if trying to erase the memory of her encounter.

The library’s quietness is punctuated only by the soft rustle of turning pages and the distant hum of the library’s air conditioning. Y/N’s efforts to lose herself in literature are both an escape and a refuge, a way to push aside the confusion and fear of her newfound connection with Batman. The weight of her thoughts is visible in the furrow of her brow and the occasional sigh that escapes her lips.

Despite the comforting familiarity of the library, Y/N can’t shake the nagging feeling that the night’s stillness is a stark reminder of her isolation in this situation. The emptiness of the library mirrors the solitude she feels in grappling with her new reality. As she turns another page, she wishes for a moment of clarity, hoping that her escape into books might somehow provide answers or relief from the swirling uncertainties of her life.

As Y/N reaches for another book, a sudden chill runs down her spine. The hair on the back of her neck stands on end. Her hand freezes mid-air, and she slowly turns around, her heart racing. Standing in the deep shadows of the library, Batman’s imposing figure emerges. His silhouette is barely discernible against the dim light, but his presence is unmistakable.

Y/N’s breath catches in her throat, and she nearly drops the book she’s holding. The stark contrast between the serene environment of the library and the dark, foreboding figure of Batman creates a jarring effect. Her mind races, trying to reconcile the calm, orderly world of literature with the intense reality of the vigilante before her.

Batman steps forward, his voice a low rumble that cuts through the silence. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says, though his tone lacks any hint of apology. “I needed to see you.”

Y/N’s eyes widen in a mix of fear and confusion. “Why are you here?” she manages to ask, her voice trembling. The suddenness of his appearance and the gravity of his presence leave her feeling vulnerable and exposed in the otherwise safe haven of the library.

Y/N’s eyes widen, her breath hitching as she takes in Batman's imposing figure standing in the library’s shadows. The sight of him—so out of place in her sanctuary of books—leaves her momentarily speechless. Her mind struggles to process the surreal encounter, and she stands frozen, her eyes locked onto him with a mix of fear and bewilderment.

Despite the fear coursing through her veins, there is an undeniable pull, a magnetic force she can't ignore. It tugs at her heart and mind, drawing her closer to this enigmatic figure. The intensity of the connection she feels is overwhelming, almost as if her very soul recognizes his presence, regardless of the danger or confusion it brings.

Batman steps forward, his movements deliberate and calculated. His dark eyes, hidden beneath his mask, seem to pierce through the dim light, reflecting a mix of determination and something softer—perhaps concern or longing. Y/N, feeling the depth of the connection, bites her lip, her emotions a tangled mess of apprehension and inexplicable attraction.

The tension in the air is palpable as Y/N murmurs softly, almost to herself, "Oh dear." The words escape her lips as a reaction to the shock of his sudden appearance and the strong, inexplicable pull she feels towards him. The softness of her voice contrasts sharply with the intimidating presence of Batman, highlighting the vulnerability she feels.

Her gaze wavers between him and the books surrounding her, the familiar comfort of her academic world now overshadowed by the stark reality of this encounter. The pull of their soulmate bond, though unsettling, is a powerful reminder of the bond that exists between them, making the situation all the more confusing and profound.

Batman’s voice cuts through the library's stillness, deep and resolute. “You are my soulmate,” he declares, the words heavy with the weight of his revelation.

Y/N's eyes widen even further, her lips pressing together in a tight line as she processes his confession. The mixture of emotions—shock, confusion, and an inexplicable pull—leaves her reeling.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she gathers a sliver of confidence and meets his gaze. “You know, Mr. Batman sir…” Her voice wavers, struggling to maintain composure. “And then, before he can respond, she turns and dashes towards the exit, her footsteps echoing through the empty library.

The suddenness of her flight mirrors her inner turmoil. As she runs, she tries to escape the intense emotions and the overwhelming reality of their connection. The library, once a refuge, now feels like a maze, amplifying her desire to flee from the truth she’s just faced.

As Y/N’s footsteps fade into the distance, Batman's comms crackle to life with Alfred’s voice, tinged with amusement. “Did you drive her away, sir?” Alfred asks, a note of teasing in his tone.

Batman, feeling the weight of the situation and the awkwardness of his own admission, replies sharply, “You shouldn’t eavesdrop, Alfred.”

Alfred’s voice comes through, still amused. “It was not intentional, sir. I was merely monitoring the situation.”

Batman huffs softly, his frustration mixed with a begrudging acknowledgment of Alfred’s light-hearted approach. The silence that follows is filled with the realization that the night's events have set a complex, emotional chain in motion.

As Y/N hurries away from the library, her mind racing to process the encounter, she mutters to herself, "This is not happening." The words escape her lips in a whispered, disbelieving tone, reflecting the surreal nature of the situation and the internal struggle to reconcile her feelings with the reality of Batman's unexpected revelation. The library’s quiet corridors seem to close in around her, amplifying her sense of isolation as she tries to make sense of the intense emotions and the daunting connection she now faces.

As Bruce stands in the Batcave, lost in thought about the recent encounter with Y/N, Alfred’s voice comes through the comms with a note of formality. “Sir, just a reminder about the gala at Wayne Manor this evening.”

Bruce's response is a grumble of reluctance. “I’d rather skip it, Alfred. You know how I feel about these events.”

Alfred, with a hint of mischief, adds, “I happened to glance at the guest list. It appears someone named Y/N will be attending.”

A small, genuine smile spreads across Bruce’s face, a rare sight. “Well, in that case, maybe I’ll reconsider.”

The prospect of seeing Y/N again, coupled with the unexpected connection they share, gives Bruce a new sense of purpose for the evening, shifting his attitude toward the gala from one of disinterest to one of eager anticipation.

At the elegant Wayne Mansion, the gala for preserving old languages and books is in full swing. The grand ballroom is adorned with exquisite decorations, and the air is filled with the hum of sophisticated conversation. Y/N, dressed in an elegant gown, mingles among the guests, captivated by the evening's cause.

As she navigates through the crowd, she encounters Bruce Wayne, the charming playboy billionaire known for his public persona. With his warm demeanor and effortless charm, Bruce engages Y/N in a conversation. The two quickly find common ground in their shared appreciation for literature and the preservation of cultural heritage.

Bruce listens intently as Y/N passionately discusses her work and the importance of safeguarding historical texts. Their conversation flows effortlessly, with Bruce genuinely fascinated by her insights and enthusiasm. For nearly forty minutes, they are lost in their discussion, completely absorbed in each other’s company.

As the conversation continues, Alfred, ever observant, subtly reminds Bruce through a discreet message on his comms, “Sir, there are other guests waiting for your attention.”

Bruce, reluctantly pulling himself away from the captivating conversation, smiles at Y/N with genuine warmth. “It’s been a pleasure, truly. I hope we can continue this conversation another time.”

Y/N, feeling a bit starstruck but thoroughly enchanted by Bruce's attentiveness, smiles back. “I’d like that.”

As the night draws to a close and the guests begin to trickle out of Wayne Manor, Bruce stands near the entrance, his eyes instinctively searching the crowd. When he spots Y/N preparing to leave, something stirs deep within him.

Watching her walk towards the exit, her figure illuminated by the soft glow of the mansion’s chandeliers, Bruce feels a tightness in his chest. The knowledge that she doesn’t know who he truly is—that he is both the masked vigilante who startled her and the man she just shared a wonderful conversation with—fills him with a deep, unspoken longing.

For Y/N, tonight was an encounter with Bruce Wayne, the billionaire. But for Bruce, it was so much more. He’s found his soulmate, the person who effortlessly brings him a sense of peace and connection he’s never known. Yet, she leaves tonight unaware of the depth of the bond that has already begun to form between them.

As Y/N steps out into the cool night air, Bruce silently vows that he won’t let her slip away. She’s become everything to him in such a short time, and even though she doesn’t know the full truth yet, he knows that he will do whatever it takes to protect and cherish her, both as Bruce Wayne and as Batman.

“Miss Y/N,” he calls out gently, stopping her in her tracks. She turns to face him, her eyes curious as she meets his gaze.

Bruce hesitates for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “I was wondering,” he begins, his voice smooth but with a hint of tension beneath the surface, “if you’ve found your soulmate yet?”

Y/N tilts her head slightly, surprised by the question. The night has been full of unexpected moments, and this is certainly one of them. She thinks for a moment, her heart fluttering as she considers her answer. “I might have,” she says softly, her voice honest and uncertain. “But I’m not sure if I actually have.”

Her words echo in Bruce’s mind, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. She’s talking about him—or rather, about Batman. But she doesn’t know, and he can’t tell her. Not yet.

Y/N, unaware of the storm of emotions raging within Bruce, offers him a warm, polite smile. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Wayne.” She bows her head slightly in a gesture of respect, her elegance and grace captivating him all over again.

Bruce watches as she turns and continues to her car, the distance between them growing with each step. His mind races with the implications of her words, the possibilities of what could come next. She might have found her soulmate, but she’s not sure—and that means there’s still time, still hope.

As her car pulls away, Bruce remains standing there, the weight of the evening settling over him. He knows, with a certainty that’s almost frightening, that he won’t let her slip away. She’s become everything to him, and he’ll find a way to show her that she doesn’t need to be unsure anymore.

As Y/N drives back through the quiet streets of Gotham, her mind is a whirl of emotions and thoughts she can’t quite shake. The evening had been far more eventful than she’d anticipated, not just because of the gala but because of Bruce Wayne.

She finds herself replaying their conversation in her head—the way he listened to her, the ease with which they connected, and the subtle charm that seemed to draw her in. There’s no denying it: Bruce Wayne has a magnetic personality, a presence that’s hard to ignore. For a moment, she even wonders what it would be like to get to know him better, to spend more time with him.

But as the city lights blur past her window, Y/N is reminded of the truth that sits like a weight in her chest. It’s not Bruce Wayne’s name that’s etched into her wrist. It’s Batman’s. The Dark Knight—the mysterious, brooding figure who watches over Gotham from the shadows—is her soulmate.

A shiver runs down her spine at the thought, and she grips the steering wheel a little tighter. How could someone like her, an ordinary literature professor, be connected to someone like him? A man who lives in the darkness, who faces danger every night, who carries the weight of an entire city on his shoulders.

The pull she feels towards Batman is undeniable, as if some invisible thread ties her to him. And yet, she can’t quite shrug off the connection she felt with Bruce Wayne either. It’s confusing, overwhelming even. How could she be drawn to two people who seem so different? And why does it feel like there’s something more she’s missing?

As she finally pulls into her driveway and turns off the engine, Y/N lets out a long breath. She knows one thing for certain: her life has become far more complicated than she ever imagined. The Dark Knight is her soulmate, but tonight, Bruce Wayne has made his way into her thoughts in a way she didn’t expect. And now, she’s left wondering how she’ll ever reconcile the two.

After the guests have all departed and the grand halls of Wayne Manor have fallen silent, Bruce finds himself in his study, lost in thought. The evening’s events replay in his mind, especially his conversation with Y/N. He’s still grappling with the complex emotions she’s stirred in him when Alfred enters the room, carrying a tray with a glass of scotch.

Alfred places the tray down with his usual precision, but there’s a knowing glint in his eyes as he looks at Bruce. “I must say, sir, it’s been quite some time since I’ve seen you so… distracted,” Alfred remarks, his tone laced with amusement.

Bruce glances up, raising an eyebrow. “Distracted?”

Alfred nods, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Indeed. It was quite clear to anyone paying attention that you were thoroughly captivated by a certain young lady this evening.”

Bruce attempts to maintain his usual stoic expression, but he can’t quite hide the small, sheepish smile that forms. “She’s… different, Alfred.”

“Different, indeed,” Alfred agrees, his teasing tone softening. “And might I add, it’s rather impressive how she handled your attention tonight. Not many would brush off the charm of Bruce Wayne so easily, especially when they’ve found their soulmate.”

Bruce’s smile widens slightly. “It did impress me. She didn’t seem swayed by the usual flirtations, and I respect that. It’s clear she’s not easily won over by superficial gestures.”

Alfred’s expression softens, his amusement giving way to genuine concern. “It’s clear that Miss Y/N has made quite an impression on you, sir. And if I may be so bold, you’ve been alone for far too long. Perhaps it’s time you allowed yourself to explore this connection, no matter how complex it may seem.”

Bruce leans back in his chair, staring at the ceiling for a moment. “I’ve always kept people at a distance, Alfred. It’s easier that way, safer for everyone involved. But with her… I feel like that’s not going to be an option.”

Alfred smiles gently, placing a reassuring hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “The fates have seen fit to bring someone special into your life, Master Wayne. You deserve to have someone who truly knows you, both as Bruce Wayne and as Batman. Don’t let this opportunity pass you by.”

Bruce nods, a sense of resolve beginning to form within him. “You’re right, Alfred. I can’t let her go. Not without trying to figure this out.”

Alfred steps back, satisfied. “Very good, sir. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll see to it that the rest of the manor is locked up for the night. And perhaps you should get some rest as well—you’ve had quite the evening.”

Bruce watches Alfred leave, a small smile playing on his lips. He knows Alfred is right; Y/N is different, and the connection he feels with her is unlike anything he’s ever experienced. The fact that she didn’t fall for his charm speaks volumes about her sincerity and the depth of their bond. He can’t ignore it, and he won’t.

Y/N often found herself lost in the quiet solace of the college library long after most had left for the day. The rows of ancient, well-worn books provided a refuge from the bustling world outside, and she took comfort in the company of literature.

One evening, as the dim lights cast long shadows across the shelves, she was deep in thought, scanning the spines of books in one of the far corners of the library. She traced her fingers along the titles, her brow furrowing slightly as she tried to recall where she had last seen the book she was after.

“Now where is that book on Edward Said?” she murmured to herself, her voice barely more than a whisper in the vast, empty space. The quiet hum of the library was her only response, the silence broken only by the occasional creak of the wooden floors as she shifted her weight.

She continued her search, unaware that someone was watching her from the shadows nearby, someone who had been drawn to her ever since their fateful encounter.

Y/N finally found the book she’d been searching for, tucked away on a high shelf. With a satisfied smile, she pulled it down, feeling the familiar weight in her hands. As she turned to head back to her study spot, she was once again startled by a looming figure emerging from the shadows.

“Holy shi…!!” she gasped, her heart leaping into her throat. She stumbled back a few steps, clutching the book tightly to her chest as if it could somehow protect her.

Batman stood there, silent and imposing as ever, his presence almost blending with the dark surroundings.

She exhaled sharply, trying to steady her racing heart. “You want to kill me, do it in one go, stop giving me heart attacks like these, please,” she chided, her voice a mix of exasperation and lingering shock.

Despite the fear he always seemed to inspire, there was a hint of defiance in her words, a spark that caught Batman's attention. For a moment, the corner of his mouth almost twitched into what might have been a smile, hidden beneath the cowl.

“Well…?” Y/N asked, her voice still carrying the remnants of the shock. She raised an eyebrow at the silent figure before her, a mix of curiosity and frustration evident in her gaze.

Batman remained motionless, his dark eyes observing her with an intensity that made her feel both seen and scrutinized.

“You might want me to go home again,” she added, mimicking air quotes with her free hand. There was a slight edge of sarcasm in her tone, though it was clear she was still trying to calm her racing heart.

“But I really have work right now,” she continued, her hand still pressed against her chest as if willing her heart to slow down. She took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. “So, unless you’re here to help me catalog some books, I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

Her words hung in the air, a tentative challenge to the vigilante who had disrupted her quiet night. Even as she tried to sound firm, there was an undeniable tension, a pull between them that she couldn’t quite explain.

Batman stepped closer, his presence almost overwhelming in the dim light of the library. In his characteristic hoarse voice, he spoke with a gravitas that made the air feel heavier. “We are soulmates,” he said, the words carrying an undeniable weight, as if spoken from a place deep within him.

Y/N’s eyes widened for a moment before narrowing in a mix of disbelief and frustration. “Yeah? No kidding…” she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She shook her head slightly, as if trying to process the absurdity of it all.

With a sigh, she folded her arms across her chest and leaned back against one of the library tables. “This whole soulmate thing… It’s just—” she began, searching for the right words, “It’s just a little hard to believe, especially coming from the Dark Knight himself.”

Her eyes searched his, trying to find some hint of what he was thinking beneath the cowl. The tension between them was thick, a strange mix of connection and resistance, as if she was trying to make sense of something that felt too surreal to be true.

“So,” Y/N added playfully, a spark of mischief lighting up her eyes, “what do you want me to do about it, Mr. Batman?”

The playful challenge in her voice caught him off guard, and for the briefest moment, Batman felt something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a very long time—his heart fluttered. The sensation was foreign, almost startling in its intensity. A smile nearly crept to his lips, threatening to break through his usually stern demeanor, but he suppressed it with all his willpower.

As she turned her back to place the book on the table, the playful energy still hanging in the air, Batman took that moment to retreat. When she turned around again, expecting some kind of response, she found herself staring at an empty space.

“Serves me right,” Y/N muttered to herself with a mix of amusement and exasperation. She shook her head slightly, a small smile tugging at her lips as she thought about the mysterious vigilante. “He’s straight out of an Edgar Allan Poe novel,” she added, the humor in her voice softening the strange tension that lingered in the air.

What she didn’t realize was that Batman was still within earshot, hidden in the shadows just beyond her sight. Her words reached him, and though he remained cloaked in darkness, her playful comment brought a flicker of warmth to his otherwise steely resolve. For a moment, he allowed himself to silently revel in the fact that this woman—his soulmate—had a way of seeing through his enigmatic exterior, finding something to be amused by rather than frightened of.

Hidden in the shadows, he watched her for just a moment longer, that almost-smile lingering on his lips before he finally turned to leave, disappearing into the night with a newfound lightness in his step.

As Batman moved through the shadowy streets of Gotham, Alfred’s voice crackled through the comms, laced with his usual dry humor. “The courting of the soulmate is off to a good start, I see,” Alfred remarked, amusement clear in his tone.

Batman sighed, though there was a hint of reluctant acceptance in his voice. “It would help if I didn’t have you hovering over me, Alfred.”

Alfred’s chuckle was soft but audible. “How about we start with a hello next time, Master Wayne? It’s old but classic,” he suggested, his voice full of gentle, teasing advice.

Batman couldn’t help the small smirk that formed under his cowl as he responded, “I’ll take it under advisement.”

Alfred’s voice softened with affection, “Very good, sir. Just remember, even the Dark Knight needs a little charm now and then.”

Y/N found herself lost in thought as she walked back from the library that night, her mind inevitably drifting to Batman. The idea that he could be her soulmate was something she never in a million years would have expected. She had always imagined her soulmate as someone ordinary, someone who lived a normal life—maybe a fellow academic or someone who shared her love for books and quiet moments. But Batman? The dark, brooding vigilante of Gotham, whose mere presence sent shivers down people’s spines?

The thought was almost absurd, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was right.

There was something undeniably powerful about him, something that went beyond his reputation as Gotham’s protector. Even though she had never seen his face, there was an air about him that drew her in, a magnetic pull that made her heart race and her thoughts scatter. He was strong, not just physically, but in the way he carried himself, in the way he moved through the world with such purpose and determination.

But what surprised her most was how much she wanted to tease him. There was something about the way he stood there, all serious and stoic, that made her want to poke at him, to see if she could crack that impenetrable exterior. She had never been the type to be intimidated easily, and with him, she found herself almost wanting to provoke a reaction, to see if he would drop that intense façade even for just a moment.

His presence commanded attention, no doubt about that. When he was near, the rest of the world seemed to fall away, leaving only him in sharp focus. It was overwhelming at times, but in a strange way, it also felt… right. As if, deep down, she had always been meant to be by his side, to challenge him, to bring some light into his shadowed world.

And yet, even with all these thoughts swirling in her mind, there was still a part of her that couldn’t quite believe it. How could she, a simple literature professor, be destined for someone like Batman? The very idea felt like something out of one of the novels she taught—a story too fantastical to be true. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that maybe, just maybe, fate had a way of surprising you.

As she continued to ponder, she couldn’t help but smile to herself, a small, secretive smile. The next time he appeared out of nowhere to startle her, she’d be ready. And maybe, just maybe, she’d have a few more teasing words ready to see if she could coax even the smallest hint of a smile from him.

part 2

[geeky-nightphilosopher]

Tim: Who is Catwoman?

Damian: Who is Riddler?

Jason: Who is the first Robin?

Dick: Who is Harley Quinn?

Babs, Steph, and Cass: 🤦‍♀️

Bruce: *whose the host* No.

Duke: *hands Bruce a card with a riddle on it*

Kent family is there for moral support.

[geeky-nightphilosopher]

Damian wakes up, startled. He doesn't remember what he saw in his dreams, and he is not sure what caused him to feel so anxious, but he knows what to do. The routine is easy and comforting; he just needs to find his brother Jason. So, he goes.

His bare feet against the cold floor is soundless, making no sound, and he keeps rubbing his eyes until he sees one of the doors open. It must be Jason. He always keeps the door of his room open, just in case.

There is a dim light in the room, a small lamp on the desk, where the stakes of paper are stored, and Jason is here, as tall and huge as always, tapping on his feet in an attempt to concentrate, while twirling a pen between his fingers. He is either reading or working on something else: writes down memories, afraid of them slipping away due to the Lazarus Pit hammering in his temples all the time.

Damian yawns and steps closer, tapping on his back.

'Akhi Jason,' he calls hoarsely. The body freezes, almost surprised — he is not supposed to; Jason hears him from the corridor, even if he is the most soundless kid in the whole world. 'I want to sleep.'

He never says he sees nightmares or that he is scared — just that. It always works.

Expect, this time it doesn't.

'What did you say?' Brother asks, his voice sounding so unusually stiff.

'Jason,' he repeats, more irritated this time. 'I said, I want to—'

When Jason turns around, Damian instinctively staggers back, his eyes widening.

The man in front of him is not Jason.

And for a second, Damian is panicking, until-

Until he doesn't remind himself that he is not home anymore. He is in the Wayne Manor, with his father.

With his father that looks exactly like his brother, only older, without scars, marring his face, and without a white streak that makes him look like a bird.

'Damian,' his father calls, slightly shaken. 'How do you know Jason?'

He swallows down. He is not supposed to tell about his brother. They instructed him not to.

But father has a familiar desperation in his eyes, the same one Jason had, when he was pacing around the room, muttering something incoherent, the cut out from newsletters photos of Bruce Wayne with Tim Drake in his hands, and-

And Damian shrugs.

'He is my brother,' he says, almost too innocently; because if he is going to be clueless about it, then what others will have to tell him? 'He stayed with a grandfather. It is a shame.'

Almost as if he doesn't understand what all of this implies.

'I was sleepy,' he adds. 'And got confused. My apologises, father. I shall return to my bedroom.'

Bruce stares, stares, and stares. And then, rubs his face with his hands, exhausted.

'I'll tuck you in. Let's go,' and a second later, with his voice sounding so familiarly small, just like how Jason's sounded when he first acknowledged him as his brother, he adds: 'Can you tell me more about your brother, Damian?'

And Damian tells him, of course.

He is not surprised to see the result of his work the next week.