#Alfred: I'd like to do this myself

[violent138]

Alfred's daily crossword habit is completely ruined by his brood of children because none of them ever refrain from giving him answers over his shoulder, completely unashamed. Bruce is the worst, he'll take the pen right out of Alfred's hands to fill in an answer.

[womanofwords]

Everybody's Favourite (Part 1)

Everything turned upside-down when the principal pulled you out of class when you were seven years old. You'd been colouring nicely when she came in.

"Y/N, I'd like to talk to you," she said. "Could you come with me?"

"Have I done something wrong?" you asked.

"No, dear. Just get your stuff."

You collected your things and went with her, where a police officer was waiting. "Here's Y/N, officer," she said to him. That was when you learned, in a haze of horror, that your dear mother had died while you were colouring in class without a care in the world. Car accident.

"Not to worry, she made arrangements as to who would look after you in the event of this happening," the police officer said. "Your biological father . . . Bruce Wayne."

So off you went to your new home, away from your friends and old neighbourhood and everything you'd ever known, and towards the figure known as Bruce Wayne.

The first thing you noticed about your father was that he was, obviously, very rich. All his cars were the fancy ones you used to stare at with your mom when you would walk together.

When you arrived, you had all sorts of questions for your father. "How did you meet my mother? Why didn't you talk to me before this? Did you like spending time with her?"

"I'm rather busy, Y/N. I'll show you to your room," Bruce said, escorting you to a guest bedroom. "We can decorate it later."

Later never came.

After a few weeks, you met his other kids, Dick, Jason, Tim, Barbara, Cass, and Stephanie. They all looked so cool, like teenagers from a movie. But they always had to 'do stuff'.

"What kind of stuff?" you asked.

"They're a part of scholarships for gifted students," Bruce said, before any of them could say anything. "I happen to be privately tutoring them."

"Oh. So you spend time with them because they're talented?"

"You could put it that way."

That revelation lit a fire underneath you. If your father wanted talented kids, then you would have to be a talented kid.

In everything you could get your hands on.

You became a polyglot, devouring different languages like nobody's business. You took part in gymnastics, just like Dick, and also track. You got straight As in everything, forcing yourself to study night after night. You read the same classic books Jason loved so you could (hopefully) have something to bond with him over. You took some coding classes so you had something to talk about with Tim.

Alfred became a consistent source of comfort, bringing you food and making sure that you didn't over work yourself. He came to every event you had, loyally videotaping it for future viewing.

Nobody cared to look at the tapes. Nobody watched you collect your awards for fastest times, or graduate early as valedictorian. Nobody listened to your headmaster sing your praises as he listed your various scholastic accomplishments.

Damian was the worst. The moment he met you, it was clear that he would hate you until he died. He looked at you with such disgust, such contempt for your existence. Once, he cornered you with a katana that he held so close to your neck that you were cut. Another time, he sicced Titus onto you, leading to a nasty bite mark on your arms when you put them up to defend yourself.

"Titus mauling you would have been an improvement to the Wayne bloodline," he sneered, as you bawled your eyes out. "When are you going to get it through your simple-minded skull that we don't care what happens to you? It's annoying to hear you chatter to us and make conversation about being head of your class and breaking sports records. We all scoff about it when we're on patrol."

Your throat went dry. "Patrol?"

"Of course. Father, Dick, Jason, Stephanie, and myself all have our own alter egos. I am by my father's side cleaning the streets of scumbags as Batman and Robin while you are trying to be top of your stupid little class." He punched you in the stomach, hard. "Honestly, it's a relief to get away from you and your nauseating neediness."

Alfred came to console you after the fact, but he wouldn't hear a word against Damian for hurting you, or Bruce for letting it happen. "Master Damian has had a . . . difficult life, Y/N," he said. "And Bruce's childhood was by no means easy."

You gave up on your family after that. Nobody really wanted you, and Damian actively hated you.

You were nobody's favourite.

Part 1 <- You are here

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

[witherby]

If Punch line can trigger Jason easily what would happen is she ever met Harley?

Let's explore that!

Punchline: First Session

Masterlist is Here!

"I need your help."

Harley perks up, gasping, and rushes over to hug Batman tightly.

"I never thought this day would come," she says, jumping up and down and clutching a gauntleted hand. "Yes!! Yes I would love to be your therapist! We have so much to work on, starting with your parents. I really think you never internalized the event and haven't given yourself any space to grieve after —"

Her hands get squeezed gently, recapturing her attention. Blue eyes meet white lenses, and she furrows her brow.

"Okay, that's fine!" She sighs. "Can't say I'm not disappointed, but if one of your kiddos is looking for help instead, I'm still more than hap—"

"Not one of mine," Batman gently interrupts. "This is a...very delicate case, Harley."

"What's delicate mean in this context, Batsy?" She asks. "Delicate like schizophrenic? Delicate like CPTSD? Delicate like one wrong word away from explodin' and killin' everybody in a mile radius?"

"Delicate," he says, "like...this might hit too close to home for you."

"Me?"

Batman nods. Harley hums, equal parts curious and cautious.

"Any good psychologist worth her salt won't let a personal connection get in the way of providin' aid," she tells him. "If the patient isn't somebody I can help myself, I'll help ya find someone who can. When can I meet 'em?"

--

Your file lies scattered across the floor of the cave. Harley stares wide-eyed at your picture while she trembles on her hands and knees. Bruce, having changed out of his suit, kneels beside her with a steadying hand on her back.

"Oh," she whispers, "Brucie, she's so small for her age. And her age!! Sh-she's..."

Harley shakes her head. Bruce continues rubbing small circles in her back. When she leans against him for support, he holds her upright.

"How'd he keep a kid hidden for eight years?" She whispers, voice thick. "I know I fucked off to go play Happy Family with Ivy, but..."

"Nobody knew," he says. "Harleen, don't play the blame game, not for this. He kept her a secret for a reason; no one was supposed to know."

Harley lifts her hands to her face, rubbing her eyes before any tears can well up and fall. She takes deep, calming breaths, gathering her focus, then carefully collects the papers and stands with his help. She draws a pad and pen out of her pocket.

"I ain't promising anything," she says, looking up at Bruce. "This is...this is a whole different ball game, 'specially with that chucklefuck as the daddy. But I'm gonna try, okay?"

He nods. "Take your time. You were the first person I thought of, but don't force this if it's too much."

Harley gently squeezes his hand in acknowledgement. She walks past him and down the hall towards the containment cells, heels clicking quietly against the floor. She dug out her old coat with the name tag pinned to it and even threw her hair back in a low braid to appear as non-threatening as possible. The closer she gets to your door, the more the wonders if you would've been more comfortable if she showed up in her combat getup and mallet.

"Miss Punchline?" She calls, stopping in front of your cell. A cursory glance of your environment tells her immediately that you're under-stimulated. She writes that down. "I'm Doctor Quinzel. Do ya mind if I come in and chat with you a while?"

You cease all movement. You'd been sitting with your back to the door, gently stroking the head of the teddy bear Alfred gave you while muttering Mistress Mary's nursery rhyme, but when you hear her, you practically turn into a statue. Unless she actively stares at your back, Harley can't even see you draw breath.

"Miss Punchline?" She repeats calmly. "I won't come in if you don't want, but I'd really like to talk to you."

"...Popsy talks about you, sometimes," you say. Harley can't decipher your tone, but the words make her feel cold all over. "Says he used to miss his favorite gal."

"I'm sure he's mentioned me once or twice," she says, clearing her throat. "But I'm old news. Why don't you tell me about yourself? I'm gonna punch in the door code now, okay?"

You don't move. Harley unlocks your cell and walks inside, getting a better look at how sparsely decorated it is. The bed is clearly unused and half of the activities left here would cause an ordinary child to lose interest in about an hour without company. Overall, Bruce and his family are keeping you in a dreary room. If she accomplishes nothing else today, it's a guarantee that she's gonna get you better accommodations.

Harley walks around the room until she can see you face-to-face. Once she's in your periphery, your eyes snap to her and follow her every movement like a predator. She lowers herself to the ground, taking a seat a few feet away from you.

"There you are," she says kindly. Your smile is just as placid as the one in your photo. "I like ya make-up. The swirly pattern on your cheeks is very cute."

You don't respond, though your smile widens briefly. Highly receptive to praise. Your eyes don't leave hers, scanning, assessing, calculating. Harley doesn't feel like you're about to attack her, but you're clearly juggling something around in your mind.

"Bet you're thinking about mine," she continues. "Normally I like puttin' on the face paint, but sometimes my pores gotta breathe, you know? Well — the pores I got left." She glances down at her hands, paper white like the rest of her body from her dip in a vat of acid. With relief, Harley notes that your unpainted skin is a healthy color. Even though the bar's lower than Hell, it's nice to know that at least the Joker didn't immediately treat you to a dunk of your own.

"Punchline, I'm gonna be frank with you," she says.

"Nice to meetcha, Frank," you chirp, grinning mischievously. Harley lifts a brow.

"That was funny," she praises. "I know your, eh, Popsy, he places a lot of value on bein' funny. Used to say nothin' was worth the effort if it didn't amuse him at the end of the day. I'm sure you know that already."

"A giggle a day keeps the boredom away!" You say, pitch and cadence matching that of your father's. Harley knows that the grip on her pen is too tight. She breathes deep and forces herself to relax. "Ohh, hit a nerve, Frank?"

"I'm doin' just fine," she says. "What's boredom look like for you and Popsy?"

You separate your hands, fingers splayed wide, and make explosion noises.

"Do you get caught up in that explosion?"

Your smile doesn't change but your eyes get sharp. Harley makes a note.

"It's hard keepin' him entertained all day, every day," she says. "I would know. But I'm gonna tell ya somethin' your popsy probably never has."

Harley scoots a tad closer to you, reaching her hand out and gently taking one of yours. She can feel every bone in your hand and has to utilize all of her training to school her expression.

"It's not your job to make yer popsy happy. In fact, it's not your job to make any adult happy. Grown-ups shouldn't rely on their children for emotional regulation."

"Couldn't rely on you, either, could be?" You snicker. "Since you ran away."

"I left him because he was treatin' me like dirt," Harley says, a little more firm than necessary. "He's real good at drawin' you in, Punchline. Shows you an ounce of praise that makes you feel invincible, makes you wanna do anything he asks to get more of it."

Harley lets go of your hand to tuck a lock of emerald green hair behind your right ear, brushing gently against the shell. The edges are distorted, flatter than your left.

"He's also real good at draggin' you through the mud, makin' you feel like everything's your fault. Like you got no choice but to make it up t'him. Ya never wanna get on his bad side cause he really makes you feel it."

You tilt your head away from her hand, eyes dropping back down to the teddy bear Alfred gave you. You resume petting it, slightly faster and rougher than before. Harley makes a note.

"His anger's always more powerful than his joy, Punchline," she says, "but both of them are destructive. I wanna help ya break away from his cycle."

"No thanks," you say, "if I wanted to be a washed-up, third-rate party clown, I would!"

Harley feels a wave of pity for you. It's obvious you're just regurgitating your father's words back at her, and she's not surprised. Change doesn't happen overnight, especially not for you.

There's so much work to do, but Harley's not afraid. You may look and behave similarly to the Joker, but you're young and still impressionable and already starting to pull away from him without even realizing it.

"I can tell yer getting upset, and that's the last thing I want," she says, climbing to her feet, "so I think this is a good stopping point for today. But I'd really like to see you again. Would you be alright with that?"

You blow a raspberry at her, then cackle. Harley exhales sharply through her nose, giving you a fond smile, and pats your head as she steps past you and opens the cell door.

She can do this. She will do this. For you.

But, first thing's first.

"Brucie, you're kidding me with the furnishings! How's the richest man on the planet gonna put a kid in such a shitty room!? Don't look at me like that, mister. You brought me in t'do a job and I'm gonna do it right!!"

[euphoria-looney]

Credits to the idea:

Batfam X Neglected Reader ( Squid Games)

Creds to the dividers: (?)

The Winner Takes It All by ABBA

When do humans get so desperate they give up their own lives for that small chance of money?

Money is a category in your history class dedicated to why money is the basis of your life. Economy.

I first witnessed someone leave everything had for money, my mother. When I was 5, I didn't know why my mother was leaving the manor with a huge suitcase, filled with cash.

My mother engaged to Bruce Wayne who only allowed her in as they procreated me. In her words, both sides should take responsibility, it takes two to tango, and why should she be the only one to deal with the consequences.

Which now is very hypocritical as she ran away taking everything but me.

I didn't want sympathy, but I didn't want to be treated like dirt for a mistake I didn't make.

For the next 13 years of my life, I tried to stay on the down low, no matter how many dirty looks, and the insults, not even when Damian would hurt me.

I just hoped they wouldn't mind if I stayed with them a little longer until I could find a stable way to leave.

That hope burst when Alfred came to my room and told me “Master Bruce has decided to kick you out and disown you, I'm so sorry, [name].”

I tried to somehow make it, promising myself, it was going to be okay.

I got into college, and the debt collected from that was massive, so I had to go get loans at the bank, and then get into a part-time job, but every day seemed like we were always getting robbed. My manager had no choice but to let me go.

“I'm sorry, sugar, but we aren't pulling in enough customers and I can't afford to keep too many employees, there's no easy way to say this but, you have to quit. I don't want to fire you, it'd look bad for any job you'd apply for next.”

I held onto her hand like a lifeline I begged and pleaded with no avail.

I tucked my tail in and went to the Wayne manor.

"Um, It's [name], could I... um..." I swallowed my words, afraid to say them, I mean, this was humiliating, 13 years since I'd seen them and the first thing I asked for was cash? "... borrow some money."

No surprise I was rejected, but that didn't hurt me it was the comments, how I was so much like my mother.

I waddled to the train station, if I was lucky, the train wouldn't be hijack or filled with gas tonight.

"Hey, you want to earn some money?" A guy next to me.

"No, thank you."

"10,000 dollars. Just a child's game"

I lifted my head to stare at him. I couldn't see his face, hidden behind a mask.

"It's a Korean game, visited it a few days ago, so would you mind playing it with me?" He gave an authoritative vibe, it made me want to back away, his aura was sinister.

I had already hit rock bottom, what could be lower? I hesitantly nodded my head.

I don't know how many times I lost, but I finally did it!

Handing me the cash and then handing me this weird card.

"If you ever need more, contact us." with that he walked away.

Third POV

“B, are you sure this is the right spot?”

‘Positive. Are you sure you want to join on this mission, Dick.”

Despite what anyone might think Batman, otherwise known as Bruce Wayne cares and loves his kids.

Changing into suits and golden animal masks, they went to the VIP room, make some bets on random numbers.

Oracle was doing the background work, hacking into everything, it wasn't like the movies and the stress was on.

The court of Owls was not just one villain working but a cult that was not only wealthy but influential, with their own members, called Talons who were armed and ready.

On the screen 456 players appeared.

“Today, we have prepared the game red light, green light. A child game.” The frontman introduced the V.I.P’s at the start of the first round.

[name]’s POV:

Waking up, the clothes I was originally wearing changed into the tracksuit outfit with a number on it.

A person caught my eye, it’s Astro! From the law department, I couldn’t help but approach him.

“What are you doing here?” Word got around that he was an academic genius, and many had hope for his bright future.

I could only remember how fond his mother was when talking about him, I thought I saw her the other day working.

“Oh, [name]. It’s been a while hasn’t it? What are you doing here?” He dodged the question.

“I… couldn’t afford college and took out a loan, eventually I got a lot of debt.” Our conversation got cut short as we headed to this random room.

Going to this machine it said ‘smile’

I gave a gummy like smile before making my way to the field

Playing red light, green light.

After explaining the rules everyone started running, nothing was wrong until a person got spotted moving during the red light, poor guy, going home penniless after making it here-

Spat

Oh.

There’s blood on my shoes.

It was like a stampede of people running to the door, stacking on top of each other. I was frozen out of fear.

Wha-

What do I do?

I’m afraid.

Someone tell me, what do I do?!

Before I knew it, I made it to the end.

Third POV:

Thankfully no one found the bat family suspicious or they would’ve noticed how they tensed up seeing as their daughter/sibling had the first contestant’s blood splattered not only on her shoes but also on her clothes.

A break had ensued as the game was over and everyone made their way to their individual rooms.

“What are they doing there?!”

“Should we stop it now?!”

“How?!”

“Quiet down!” Bruce had stopped the panic, but in reality he, himself didn’t know what to do either.

[name]’s POV:

Going back to the room, I felt like a doll and everyone sat on the floor.

The sickening feeling of seeing the gold lighting illuminating the clear pig, with money dropping down into it.

I could feel my stomach drop just thinking about it.

I didn't know what was happening until Astro got up and rebutted the guards.

“Clause three, The games may be terminated upon a majority vote, right?”

Thankfully, ending this sick and twisted game.

That didn’t last long though as a day had passed and I was back in this building. I think everyone who left was.

I talked to new people, especially this one old man who reminded me of Alfred.

“I could say the same to you. You’re young, and your debt is lower than most people here, so why continue risking your life for this money?” I shook my head, my face holding a sad smile.

“No matter how hard I try I just keep gaining then losing debt. But it’s different for you sir. Doesn’t the government give insurance and medicare for the elderly?” I held his hands in mine.

“The government isn’t as nice as you think, corrupt up in their high-paying jobs, but still greedy for more.”

As the games ensued I could feel myself deteriorate.

Third POV

Gripping onto the couch arms, and bouncing off one's feet could symbolize when someone is... anxious.

Or it could be showing anticipation.

So let's pretend that's what Bruce Wayne is feeling right now.

And if we asked his opinion on number ###, [name] [lastname]...

Most people would think, "Yes, he must be anticipating her death, how the blood would splatter, whether it be from losing a game or betrayal from another contestant." That's what most people would think of that entire family.

How could you not?

They shamed her, bullied her, and scorned her away from their home.

Wouldn't even provide financial aid much less.

Isn't that why she's here in the first place?

It was like they wanted her to grovel and die, die a death that would have no meaning, not even to this unforgiving world.

However, you'd be shocked that's not correct.

Anxiety is a scary thing it makes you make rash decisions. Good or bad.

It was nothing new to these vigilantes.

But oh. seeing her tired eyes, sweat dripping down everywhere, from her head to her legs. Her trembling form.

If you didn't know the context you'd already think she was a corpse.

No! That's wouldn't couldn't be true.

They couldn't allow it to be, she was going to be safe.

She had to be.

She was forgotten, but now, everyone's eyes were on her.

Anxiety is a scary thing, and with the current event, situation, there was nothing they could do but hope for the best, bounce their legs, and grip the couch.

-

It’s time for the next game.

“For this game we’ll be playing the marble game.”

—

There will be 2 endings choose which one. (I'll be making both.)

-> Thank you… for playing with me.

-> Astro!

Also, I love the idea and from fic from both @jellyfishmoon97 and @not-weirdoshrek

@holysoulsweets @sh4rk-k1d @sillysealsies @loomspuddle @cantfindmelol @alwaysholymilkshake @leitor-sonolento (I think these are all the ones that wanted to get tagged idk though 😍)

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

They had planned to leave before Bruce got back to the Manor, but plans change all the time and it wasn't Danny's fault!

Alfred had invited a friend of Dick's, Barbra Gordon, to the Manor for dinner, meaning that Dick had to stay if he wanted to see her. And since Dick was staying, Danny was staying. Tim wasn't about to leave Danny to Bruce's mercy, so he was staying for dinner, too.

Bruce Wayne arrived at Wayne Manor exactly three and a half minutes after six in the evening. He entered the kitchen exactly ten minutes and five seconds after that.

The air was tense.

Dick had been tense since Danny first roped him into coming to Gotham, only getting worse as they got closer to the building they were now sitting in. Now that Bruce and Dick were in the same room, it was like the rope had frayed to the point of snapping with a light breeze.

Bruce sat at the head of the table with Tim to his left and down a chair. Dick sat at the foot of the table, Barbra sitting to his immediate right. Danny sat on the unoccupied side of the table, directly in the middle.

No one was saying a word.

Danny was on edge.

Finally, "Dick," Bruce said.

"Bruce," was the response.

As if the spell had been broken, though the awkwardness remained, Barbra cleared her throat and said, "It's good to have you back in Gotham, D."

Dick smiled at her, soft and happy and relieved. "It's good to see you, Babs. How've you been?"

"The same as usual. Though, Condiment King again!" She glared when Dick started laughing. "Yeah, sure, laugh it up, Wonder Boy. It took three hours to get that mustard out of my costume! It's easier to get blood out of white carpets-!"

Bruce pointedly cleared his throat, bringing all attention to him. "As good as it is to see you, Dick, who've you brought with you?"

Barbra flinched back slightly, having forgotten Danny was even there. Oops.

Danny grinned at Bruce, hiding his nerves behind his favorite fake-it-'til-you-make-it smile. "My name's Danny, it's nice to meet you Mister Wayne! I have to say, you're a lot less smiley in person than you are on the internet."

He hummed. "I apologize. Today's been an off day."

"No need," Danny waved off politely, "I get it."

"I have to say, Daniel-"

"'Danny', please. My name's Danny."

To his credit, Bruce didn't even skip a beat. "Then, call me Bruce. I must say that I didn't expect Dick to have taken anyone in."

Danny chuckled a bit. "I think it's less of him taking me in and more of me kind of letting myself into his house."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I noticed he wasn't doing too well, so I figured I'd step in to help where I could before he got himself hurt." 'Or worse' was heavily implied. "I imagine Tim did much the same with you?"

Tim stiffened as Bruce sighed. Well, that's not a good sign.

"Yes, though Tim doesn't live here."

"He has a room, though, right?"

"Of course."

"Good. I can't imagine having to travel with the kind of injuries you guys get at night is very fun." Here, he turned and looked Barbra in the eye. "Honestly, you deserve a prize for traveling from here to wherever you live after getting injured."

Barbra smiled sheepishly, "Thanks? I don't really come here, though. Only on occasion."

Bruce interrupted before the conversation could continue, "What do you mean? Dick's the only one of us who could possibly get hurt on the job." He shook his head. "Honestly, why did you ever join the BHPD? It's too dangerous."

Oh, Danny had to put a stop to that right away!

"Sorry, to jump in here, Mister Wayne, but I know what all of you moonlight as." He ignored Bruce's narrowed, sharp glare. "You're Batman, Dick is Nightwing, Tim is Robin, meaning that Barbra has to be Batgirl and, if I'm right, Oracle."

"Who are you?" Bruce demanded. He didn't ask because asking is for people who aren't paranoid enough to have six levels of security at the front gate alone.

"I just told you: Danny." He unflinchingly met Bruce's glare. "Not good enough for you? I'm Danny, personal caretaker of vigilantes who refuse to take care of themselves, bookkeeper, cook, unlicensed medical unprofessional, et cetera. Though, don't call me a therapist because that's my sister. Is that a better answer?"

Bruce hummed.

The meal itself was somehow even worse than before Alfred had brought out the food. Glares were being thrown and concerned glances shared. It made the food taste bad, which was probably a war crime.

Danny had been raised with manners, so he'd thanked Alfred for making dinner. He even offered to help with clean up, though he backed down when he was refused. He knows better.

After dinner, the group had gone back into the very same drawing room as before. Dick and Barbra cuddled together on the couch, Bruce and Tim took the two armchairs, and Danny sat on the floor in front of the now lit fireplace.

"So, Tim," Danny started, "You working on any interesting cases?"

Tim seemed to perk up a bit. "Yeah, actually. It's a murder-"

"We're not at liberty to discuss anything with you, Daniel." Bruce's voice was gravely, almost the voice he used as Batman, as he spoke over Tim.

Danny's eyes narrowed. "I believe I told you my name is 'Danny', not 'Daniel'."

"Well, seeing as I don't actually know you, and you have offered up no sir name, I'll stick with calling you whatever I'm comfortable with, especially in my own home."

"This isn't a fight you wanna pick, Mister Wayne. You might want to rethink your choice."

"I am well aware of what battles to fight. However, you're mistaken. This isn't a battle. I'm merely stating that I will be calling you 'Daniel' until you offer up your sir name to be called by."

Danny very obviously looked Bruce up and down. "I guess my parents were right; You can't ever believe everything you read on the internet."

"Oh? Why do you say that?"

"Because you, Mister Wayne, are horrible with children."

The temperature in the room dropped. Bruce's glare hardened even more. He appraised Danny, assessing him and filing away everything he could find. "Speaking to me like that in my own home is quite the move."

"Are you threatening me, Mister Wayne?"

"Not at all," he denied. "What are you really doing here, Dick?"

"I wanted to come meet Tim," Dick lied.

"Don't lie to me."

"What, I can't even come meet your newest Robin?"

"After the way you treated Jason?"

Dick stood quickly, Barbra scrambling to her feet. "After the way I-! You're the one who let him put on my old uniform!"

Bruce stood to his full height, looking down on Dick. "Me? You barely even talked to him! I spent as much time as I could with him!"

Danny blocked out the already out of hand yelling match and grabbed Barbra's and Tim's hands, leading them out of the room. This was not how he was hoping this would go at all.

He could still hear the yelling, even in the foyer.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to Tim and Barbra, "I didn't expect this to happen."

"It's alright," Barbra said, flinching when she realized that she could hear both men's voices almost clearly.

"No, it's not. I dragged Dick here to apologize to Tim. We were supposed to leave before Bruce even left Wayne Enterprises."

Tim shook his head. "We should've anticipated something like this would happen."

"Yeah..."

The three sat together on the steps, Bruce and Dick's voices carrying through the wood and marble.

"Hey," Barbra said after a few minutes, "How do you know about the Cave being under the Manor?"

Danny blinked at her before turning to Tim. "There's a cave under the Manor?!" He glared playfully at his friend. "You didn't tell me that your base of operations is a cave under Wayne Manor!"

"If it makes you feel any better," Tim offered, "Dick named it the Bat Cave."

"It's called the Bat Cave!?"

Part 12 Part 14

[phoenixcatch7]

Lmao I'd love to see a fic where batman like. Doesn't talk at all. He just 'hn' and 'hrm's his way through the story like a Minecraft villager. All the bat kids understand him perfectly.

I actually know people irl who can do this, and I've done it myself during bad migraines, it's practically a second language, so I know it's totally possible to have full conversations between two speakers XD!

It'd be another degree of separation between Brucie Wayne, the ditzy, breathy playboy and batman, who used up all his vocal spoons for the day and now communicates solely through unintelligible grunts and sharp hand gestures when he doesn't need to talk to strangers.

Unfortunately, the best way to learn grunt speak is the same way most languages are learned, and there's no written word (outside of emoji, of course): immersion. And the justice league are no longer considered strangers.

This leads to:

Hal: which way do we go, spooky? Where's the tracker pointing?

B: *grunt*

Hal: what?

B: *insistent grunt*

Hal:..... Can we point?

B: *dour look* *slowly raises arm to point left down the street* *sharp, insistent grunt*

Hal, dryly: don't strain yourself.

-

Damian: greyson. I am calling because father has had an injury and is bed bound for tonight, however Alfred is downstairs and the rest are still on patrol. I am still in the early stages of learning father's intonations. Please translate.

Nightwing, eldest, regularly called for exactly this reason by just about everyone Bruce has ever spoken with since he was a kid, ranging from arkham guards to jl members: *heavy sigh* put him on.

Bruce: hrng...

Nightwing: He's telling you to close the curtains and keep the noise down, he's got a headache.

Damian, over the sound of footsteps and fabric rustling: it truly is just like another language.

N: nah, it's a lot of probability. I've known b for years, I can guess pretty well. There's a lot we can say. For example, that grunt actually carried a lot more meaning, I just trimmed it down.

Damian: truly?

N: yup! If I had to be pedantic, it actually meant 'I am in quite a lot of discomfort, the cause of which is my head, and I am struggling to manage it on my own. Please aid in my cause, my darling sons whom I love dearly -'

Damian: *muffled noise through the phone*

N: that'll be him telling us to shut up. But you can see why I asked you to close the curtains.

Damian: fascinating. I shall take this under advisement.

-

B, exhausted after a long day of board meetings as Brucie: *moody silence*

Gordon: Batman, how's it going?

B: *glower* *drawn out grunt*

Gordon: that bad, huh?

-

Supes, during a briefing: I believe it would be best if we attacked from the north, we've enough flying members to crest the mountains and ambush then that way - Batman?

B: *quiet grumble, with pointer fingers moving in semicircles*

Supes: ah, I see. You're right, we'd be too visible if the sun rose behind them*turns to see the other members standing behind him* what?

Flash, bowing at the waist, palms together over his head: teach me your ways, oh mighty bat-speaker.

[thewritingfairy]

God I love how you writen things.

Reader scratching themselves to get rid of the pain remind me of when id harshly pinch myself.

I don't have chronic pain but when I was younger I had a bad ears infection in both. It was so bad and painful it will hurt greatly even if I do nothing and the pain will get worse if I move my head in any way whether turning or walking, the faster the wors it gets. The pain will also get too bad when I hear something or make a voice (using my trout) or even move my jaw.

I remember I'd pinch my tights and twist just to forget about the pain in my head and ears using the pain of my legs. But I didn't do that a lot.

I also love the way you write Jason reaction to reader in chap 7. It's feel like his just realizing that the reader is a human. A person and not just a two dimensional character or NPC.

I actually feel like the whole family (not Tim and Duke) sees the reader as just that. An NPC of a story who is just around. They didn't take any time to try to know the reader and flatten their character and existence to the most dehumanizing way (?)

But what of Alfred. I mean he does interact with them more than anyone. Did he also never take any time to know them and just flatten and simplified their character to this 'easy child'?

Thank you for reading and please take care of yourself

Have a good day/night

-😶‍🌫️

Phone format, chapter mentioned: 07. An explosion of emotions

The scratching is actually based on an old coping mechanism of mine. I used to scratch until I bled to feel pain differently because my chronic pain drove me crazy. Like I was just settling in to being a teen and I finally wasn't being bothered by my birth condition and then it decided to act up? And then COVID??? I scratched until I got scars lmfao.

And omg, ear infections were the worse especially as a toddler/kid, especially if they made your ears bleed. I never thought of pinching tho?

Yeah, Jason is a piece of shit in my fic. But he's an evolving piece of shit that still isn't redeemable but hey at least he's learning.

But definitely (Name) is the NPC of the family, and Alfred kind of kept it that way for a long time. He barely talked about achievements with Bruce and the others, wanting your joy all to himself.

Alfred's selfish in my fic and he's about to get a whole lot worse.

[the--firevenus]

The missed opportunity of this fandom to not make an au of baby Terry being Bruce child and last of the Batfam addition

HEAR ME OUT. I KNOW THIS IS VERY FANON AND OOC... BUT CONSIDER THIS. IT'S FUNNY. AND FUN.

In the au Terry exist via clone made by Cadmus or something ala Conner Kent, but instead of mix DNA with someone, it's purely Bruce's DNA, and maybe some enhancement (maybe actually mix with someone but idk, put that in the clipboard) .. But here the catch, somehow the existing of this tube baby caught in the wind and he was rescue by the Batfam (don't asked me the logistic, stick with me, this is brainstorming session)

But, unlike the usual test tube kid or whatever. Terry is just a human baby, a child. Sure Bruce had taken care of Damian when he's young but not this young. And technically? Terry is his son?? Right?? Logistically???? If he raise him? Even tho he also technically a clone??? Whatever. Put that on the clipboard.

Que in the shenanigans, Bruce that was like thinking he's a veteran of taking care of kids by now, suddenly fubbling and start at square one of parenting again cuz THIS IS A BABY... Sure he had took care of other people baby for a bit, learning how to change their diaper and make baby formula... But that someone's else's kid and he only took care of them for a while... THIS IS NEW.. NEW BABY... WHAT IS SUPPOSED TO DO!?!?!? (some part of him was kinda happy to take care of Terry that young cuz he never got the chance to do the same to Damian)

Que Dick kinda amused seeing Bruce looked like the same guy that first adopted him, clueless of parenting (even tho that's not true) and unsure, I think he'd help Bruce around when he had the time, buying baby formula and diapers, or maybe offer to cover Bruce's patrol shift once in a while (you think you've seen Bruce being sleep deprived juggling his vigilante life, his playboy sona life and being a dad of 6+? THINK AGAIN. the new baby had him PASSED THE FUCK OUT whenever he can. Plus man is old. You can't blame him for no longer as agile as new parents are)

I think Jason (if we assume this au is Jason and Bruce relationship being better) would be like "I'm only here to see the baby", and he did, but he also told Bruce to go nap "you look like me after lazarus pit old man", in my head Jason I'd a great babysitter cuz he had helped Roy with Lian, he knows his way, kinda, while talking to the baby as if it's a big man, "listen when you're older, I'm your favourite okay, and I will taught you All the things B didn't want you to do >:)"

Felt like Tim would be the most experienced in the "clone but also not really" department cuz... Yk... Probably advocate any health check if Bruce asked, he may experience with it on someone older in age but Terry is a baby, they need plan if things goes sour and Tim had plans if Bruce need backup. With that said, I like to think when he hold Terry up in his arm, he's suddenly the most over protective brother ever, "I only have this child for a day but if anything happen to him, I will kill everyone in this room and then myself" (and he meant it 100%)

In my head Damian would be the one that felt the most conflicted of Terry existent, on one hand.. Yes they technically share the same blood as the Waynes, but he also so used of being the youngest one, suddenly he felt his position threaten even tho he's aware this baby can't even defeat him even with 100 years of training, he scowl at the baby in Bruce's arm, unpleased of this newcomer that threatening his heir position,,, then baby Terry hold Damian hand and how the tiny baby hand can only hold one of his finger.. " He is so weak father.." "that's because he's still little.." "he's useless.... I shall be there to train him stronger when he's of age." ( "in the meanwhile I will protect his soft bones")

Alfred when he saw baby Terry was a bit stunned, he looked just like baby Bruce it's actually insane but also endearing. Suddenly he smile so fondly remembering the day when Thomas and Martha show him then newly born Bruce to him, so soft, so fragile, so innocent untouched of the cruelty of the world. He found himself promising to do his duty to this new Wayne the same way he said to Thomas and Martha the day Bruce's born.

[ladyloveandjustice]

Here's me finding out about a current ongoing DC storyline because I wanted to read the little story where Tim came out as bi and then ending up googling what the current storyline with Bruce losing his money and being surprised with each revelation.. talking it out with my partner and they are so funny <3

Bruce Wayne slumming it means he still has more money than me lol...don't correct me on any specifics I'll probably google more later out of curiosity anyway

I should mention that the little story where Tim came out to Bruce had him worrying "Bruce is on the edge! We have to pull him back!!!" and then going to Dick only for Dick to be like "Ok Tim but when is Bruce not on the edge??? I feel like it's every two months??? I have spent my ENTIRE LIFE pulling him back from the edge I'm tired I gotta do something for myself for once. we can't make him happy anyway. don't be like me Tim focus on your future <3 you deserve to be happy<3" which I mean. That's realistic I guess I'd eventually burn out too good on you for setting boundaries Dick, you should not be having to constantly maintain your father's mental health, I agree,

but it's still so unintentionally funny he chose to do it when there are apparently several legit reasons for Bruce to be sad now and based on this story he wasn't even really being mean about it (maybe he was in other stories), just really mopey and negative, which is his default anyway.Though I guess Dick would be grieving too, lack of Alfred and all. Also that Dick later called him and apparently said all this to his face because Bruce was like "Dick called me he's right you deserve to be happy" and it is funny to imagine him having to sit there and listen to all that.

also I now realize Bruce is going to have to cook and clean for himself now. I guess he probably does actually know how to considering those times he spent traveling the world or whatever but wow. truly single daddin' it.

(also apparently Tim only came out to Bruce on-panel? I want to see him come out to every single person in the batfamily. though I guess how Damian would respond would be the only variable.

"Damian Im bi" "great now there are a good chunk of insults i can't call you without it being a hate crime thanks a lot Drake")

comics are incredible.

[julymusings]

Jason Todd & Cooking

I always go back and forth on how much I want to include "Jason loves to cook" in my writing because I'm not sure how much is canon and how much is fanon so can we open it up to discussion pretty please I'd love to hear other people's thoughts.

Here are my arguments:

Experience: Jason grew up poor and largely had to parent himself. So he must know a little bit of cooking, even if it's the bare basics that's only enough to keep him alive. It's plausible this taught him how to be creative and thrifty with meals because he had to make do with whatever he had, so we can assume that if you drop him in a kitchen with random ingredients, he can figure something out.

Knife skills: I've seen other authors (myself included) write him as good in the kitchen because he's efficient with a knife from being a vigilante. I don't have much to say on this, just that I think that's also a fair assumption considering he underwent training with the League of Assassins and became highly-skilled with wielding blades.

Love language: He's the kind of person who, due to his trauma, has difficulty opening up to people and trusting them (it's confirmed he cries during sex so this is an objective fact idc). When it comes to having a romantic partner, it might not be easy for him to express affection through words, so he relies on actions. If you like flowers, he buys you flowers. If you like a dish, he makes it for you. So yeah, this might not have concrete evidence in canon, but I'm gonna choose to believe that he would enjoy cooking for someone he loves.

Art hoe?: We know he appreciates good literature, so does that extend to other forms of creativity?

Hands: (I don't actually know how much of this is based in canon but whatever) He likes to work on his bike, he's meticulous with taking care of his guns & weapons, so it's safe to assume he likes working with his hands. It's engaging enough to distract him from his thoughts and he feels satisfied/proud when he's done with the work. So even if it's not something he loves to do as a "safe space" because of cherished memories with Alfred or anything, he might still enjoy it.

^^on that note, what do you think some of his 'safe spaces' are? Like I guess reading would be one, maybe working on his bike would be another? Idk, what does anyone else think. p.s. I'm using safe space to mean something that makes him feel happy and gives him a break from his demons yk

Also I did only make this as a defense for the "Jason Todd had a charcuterie board obsession phase" post sitting in my drafts because I BELIEVE he DID!!!!!!!!

Anyway please let me know your thoughts I'm frothing at the mouth for human interaction

[gotham-daydreams]

I love your concept of batman!reader, it makes me want to rip out chunks of my room wall with my teeth. So perhaps you can tell me and the rest of the audience something more about that universe.

Cheers!

Of course! And if anyone has any specific questions about anything in particular I'd be happy to answer them as well :]

Nevertheless, the universe itself is... interesting, I'd say!

It definitely falls into this small category I'm sort of making for myself in terms of characters where they "do too much", even if their reasons vary. Since let's just say that Batman!Reader is honestly a little too much like Bruce, and if he was somehow more dedicated to the mission. And by 'dedicated' I mean if you take Bruce's self sacrificial nature, and crank it up to eleven.

It's a shame too because Bruce obviously wants 'Batman' to act more like 'Nightwing' - a symbol that people can look to, not in collective fear, but as a symbol of hope and justice. Batman!Reader on the other hand, does not make that possible. In their own way, they really try to become Batman and disregard the human beneath it all entirely. But that's getting a little too much into the actual story itself-

I will say that in this universe, Gotham is actually safe. The crime it was once know for has taken a heavy hit, and everyone is safe - but at the cost of criminals essentially fearing for their lives. Your average citizen is safe, but for those under the streets and in back alleys, its very much like they're "under new management", and one that isn't as forgiving as the Bats that came before the current one.

Though, that is by design.

As I said in the little summary/concept, everyone is dead - but they didn't all die right away. There was a process the reader went through to get the cowl, and they actually were able to dawn it before everyone got the boot - but as you can guess from said little summary, they still don't quite feel like it's their own. Batman is still Bruce, it's still Dick to them, even if practically everyone else in the city would definitely be confused if either of those two were to dawn the cowl again - if they were able to.

Alfred is actually alive! Albeit very old and definitely living his last days, as one can imagine.

There is new technology! But I won't go into specifics since I'm not really all that smart and can't really say anything besides "everything pretty much has an upgrade", so...

Batman! Reader is actually very anti social and needs to get out more, it really is like the early days of Bruce being Batman, but worse.

Reader also had their own Robin at some point named 'Sparrow', things... did not go well on that end.

I imagine that the Wayne Manor is on a hill, at least in this particular universe, and everyone is basically buried there a little ways away from the manor. The reader even had the Grayson's and such moved so no one would be apart from their family, it makes them feel closer that way and makes it easier to visit them. Not to mention it avoids a certain incident that happened a long while ago from happening again.

There are new villians! One of which actually causes the batfam from another universe to come into Batman!Reader's dimension. Another raises the dead, but that isn't important as of now - and there are more... as I come up with them and also remember to write them down! Do they have names? Not at the moment! And also I kind of suck at names if no one could guess from the titles I come up with.

There is a statue in Gotham of the Batfam - minus Batman for obvious reasons, but Bruce and Gordon are squeezed on there. Blüdhaven has a statue of Nightwing. In the building for Wayne Enterprises, they have little holographic models of their previous CEOs and such, along with everyone that's come before, Tim is the latest one on there - the reader has yet to submit their model. To which, a friend of their's is helping them with the buisness - think of her as this reader's Lucius Fox.

Batman! Reader only has two other servants aside from Alfred (though they are more like the reader's only friends), mostly to keep the Manor clean and take care of Alfred while they're away.

Reader is also very tech savy and into how machines work and what not, all that nerd stuff! So very much like Tim, Bruce, and Barbara in that way. There is always something to get done and improve, and I will say that the stuff Alfred used to get around - the reader made themself.

In classic fashion, Alfred is actually very disappointed in a lot of the choices Batman! Reader has made in their life, but so are those closest to them, so be fair...

With no context, Batman! Reader is like if "ManBat" actually succeeded.

----

If anyone wants to know more, or has any questions, feel free to ask away!

[curiositylostinthemind]

Harry Potter x DC x Danny Phantom prompt idea

Okay so I haven't seen Danny Phantom in years but I've gotten big into Danny Phantom x DC crossovers lately thanks to tiktok (r.i.p), anyways before that I'd gotten big into Harry Potter x DC crossovers. I've even written a couple myself on ao3.

Anyways, last night, I got this idea for a 3 way crossover with Harry, Jason, and Danny. Harry would be the Master of Death, and Danny would be the Ghost King. Both of them would, for some reason or another, end up in Gotham and come across Jason, whether when he's a civilian or as Red Hood would be up to you. Whether Danny and Harry met first and then become friends before Jason comes in, it's up to you, but I do like the idea.

Maybe they're roommates at university and then are dancing around the sexual tension between them or something when Jason or Red Hood appears, and both are sold instantly. They need to drag Jason in and make themselves a throuple. Bonus points for both Harry and Danny looking like unassuming small twinks while Jason is the absolute tank of a man utterly besotted with two guys who honestly look a bit like drowned wet rats or something compared to him.

Danny, of course, would be doing a degree with aerospace engineering or any other space related degree you want to give him. I'm not sure on Harry, but I also want to throw out like over half of the bullshit from the series. He'd actually be smart and, for one, not have taken divination. I personally prefer the fics where he's in runes and arthimancy too but especially runes. Honestly, come up with whatever degree you want but I'd have it where he'd also managed to get his muggle education along with Wizarding one, he could do that after the war and before coming to Gotham if you want.

Honestly, I just really want a Harry, Danny, and Jason fic of three fucking nerds in love and stressing out Bruce because what do you mean his other son has two boyfriends as well as both of them are fucking eldritch beings that scare John Constantine who does everything in his power to avoid the two. Bonus points if you have Tim, Kon, and Bernard decide that it has become some sort of game between the two throuples to cause Bruce so much stress and panic. Oh, even more bonus points if both Alfred and Damian are aware of the Wizarding world so Alfred ends up dotting a little extra on Harry while Damian tries to work out how Harry ended up with an idiot but at least it's not Tim.

Just an idea. If you happen to write it, tag me and let me know. I'd love to read it.

[womanofwords]

Everybody's Favourite (Part 13)

This outfit was stiff. Really, really stiff. And it wasn't in the colours that you liked. But it was for a gala with your family, the first one where you had been allowed to come with them instead of being left at home. Everyone was wearing matching outfits to be cohesive. Damian looked at you with satisfaction.

"About time you came with us. You're going to be the centre of attention," he said. "Nothing less befitting of a Wayne."

"Really?" You looked at yourself in the mirror. "I'm worried that they'll all stare at me."

"Your family will protect you, Y/N. Have faith in us," Damian said. It took a lot for you to not burst out laughing. Sure, they'd protect you. The only thing the Wayne family had shielded you from was happiness and familial love. But you smiled a small, strange little smile and buttoned up your outfit.

When you got into the car, Dick grabbed you and dropped you into the seat next to him. "Stay close to me, baby bird, the first gala is always the worst one," he soothed.

"So I've heard," you said, curiously.

The gala took place in a swanky country club that nearly glittered as you stood in front of it. Everyone looked so fancy.

And they were all looking at you.

Dick and Jason stayed on either side of you, frogmarching you in. "Stuck-up snobs," Jason muttered under his breath. "If they're mean to you, you tell us. Tell. Us."

"Yes, Jason," you say, knees buckling.

The staring intensified once you were inside. "What do I do?" you hissed to Bruce.

"Socialise," Bruce said. "Don't worry, you'll be with me. I'm going to introduce you to some of my colleagues." With a tug, you were taken to a group of disinterested socialites. "Irene, Derek, how good to see you. Meet my second-youngest, Y/N Wayne."

"Good evening," you say, staring up at them. "This is my first ever gala, so I'm sorry if I mess things up."

"Goodness, you're adorable!" a lady gasped. "Where has Bruce been hiding you all this time?"

"Wayne Manor," you said. They laughed like you were joking. You weren't.

"It's been so difficult adjusting Y/N to family outings, but they seem to be getting it really quickly," Bruce said, as the adoring smiles became grimaces of annoyance towards him.

"Well, I've never been on a family outing before," you say, with all honesty. "Normally, I just got left at home."

"Bruce left a child unattended?" someone muttered.

"Alfred was with them the whole time," Bruce hurriedly insisted. "They were never in any danger."

"I had such a nice time with Alfred. I learned how to bake and sew and about the monarchy!" you said, hoping that it would make things better and people would stop pitying you.

It didn't work.

"Oh, you sweet angel. I wouldn't mind adopting you myself," one woman said. "Oh, just look at those eyes!"

You felt your hair gently caressed, your hands held, your cheeks pinched. "What's happening?" you asked, but you were only met with more cooing. You were everybody's favourite now.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please," the organiser said. "Thank you all for coming. In light of recent events, we'd like to give a warm welcome to Y/N Wayne at their first ever gala. It's about time that we were introduced to you." The crowd applauded, but all you could do was shrink into yourself.

"They're accepting them. This is such a relief," Bruce said.

"We were all following your story on the news, and it really hit us where it hurt. Most of us are parents ourselves, and we would have been besides ourselves with worry if that had been our child," the host continued. "Your remarkable case had influenced this year's charitable cause."

"What charitable cause?" you dared to ask.

"Bruce Wayne's vasectomy fund."

The assembled members burst into laughter, while you stood there, confused. "How is this a charitable cause?" you asked.

"Well, after the atrocious job of parenting he's done with you, I'd say he needs this," the host said.

"Oh, great. They've become the butt of a cruel joke," Damian said.

"No, Damian. We've become the butt of a joke," Jason clarified. "Y/N's the only one that will escape unscathed. They love them. They're Gotham's favourite."

"I'm very sorry, everyone, but I don't quite understand the point of this," you said. "I was always under the impression that my biological father was a beloved figure of Gotham due to all his charity work."

An awkward silence settled over the room. "What exactly are you saying, Y/N?"

"I'm saying he can pay for his own damn vasectomy."

Raucous laughter bellowed out of the attendees. Bruce's heart sank. Even you were cracking jokes.

"There's no way that this can get any worse for us," Damian muttered.

"Where's my little dove?" Penguin asked.

"PAPA, YOU CAME!" you squealed, nearly teleporting into the monocled villain's arms. "How did you find me?"

"I've got the navigational skills of a homing pigeon," he bragged, as you hugged him tightly.

"This has been a complete failure, hasn't it?" Tim asked.

"Yes, Tim," Bruce said, watching Penguin sweep you into a dance. "We have failed."

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13 <- You are here

Part 14

Taglist: @tinybrie, @enchantingarcadecreation, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @sh4rk-k1d, @prorpy, @angelicbear, @sulleha, @sirenetheblogger, @omgfangirlland, @heather-hutchcroft, @wannaflyaway, @jaybunsblog, @sugarrush-blush, @redkarmakai, @asillysimp, @type-ink, @jellyedkazoo, @lonely-nerd-sodaholic

[whenindoubtfangirlitout]

Guys, I gotta be honest...

If this version of Bruce Wayne told me to get on me knees,

I'm down and tying my hair back. Absolutely no hesitation. I don't even need to be hit with sex pollen. He's enough.

You'd have to have Superman pry me away from this man. Sure, he's been withered by age and illness, but he can still get it. I mean, he's Bruce Wayne. The Batman. Despite his retirement, this man could easily throw or pin me and I would be begging for more. I'd gladly be tossed around like a rag doll by him. I'd allow myself to be nothing more than an outlet. Like, please, take your decades of frustration out on me 😩. No strings attached.

And, I'm sorry? Him with Ace? I'm swooning. A man with a soft spot for animals is one of my weaknesses. He may seem hardened and cold by the tragedies he'd witnessed, but his dog will get a smile out every single time. And the way Ace loves and protects him? You just know Bruce is so good to his furry baby 😭. Ace would be eating a raw food diet enhanced with every vitamin and mineral needed to keep him in top shape for as long as possible. His coat would be so shiny and his teeth would be so clean, both getting brushed daily. They would go on morning and evening walks around the garden, just soaking in the negative rays from Gotham's cloudy skies. And I'd be earning brownie points by getting this dog to love me. I would do anything for Ace. I love him so much.

And him glaring at me? Knees weak. I'm folding on sight. I love the authority. Thrive on it even. While I'm doing all the work, he'd be giving all the commands. Every single move would be directed by him. He'd be in complete control, able to level me with just a look. And the things he would say to me? He'd be degrading me during and praising me after. It'd be an emotional roller coaster but I'd always come crawling back.

I don't care what type of issues this might be a manifestation of, but I'm down bad for this man. And don't even get me started on Alfred-

That's it, I have to take matters into my own hands. I'm writing an xReader smut of old man Bruce Wayne. Let me know if you're interested, but it's happening no matter what at this point.

I also just wanna know I'm not alone.

[yandereunsolved]

Good timezone, I was rewatching some of those “Gotham FYP” tiktoks from a couple months ago and I wanted to ask you a question. If you were in Gotham, which Robin/vigilante would you want to save you? Personally, either Jason or Damian.

Dick is out bc I feel like I’d give him something as a thank you and then I’d never know peace again. I don’t mind clingy but trouble follows that guy like a deranged stalker ex 😭. Which would just make me want to help him? Like yeah sure Nightwing. You can totally crash on the couch while I’m at work, need any Tylenol? There’s soup in the fridge. Byeeee

Tim is out bc I don’t want to be saved by someone who can hack me and know my ao3 history/tumblr account. If I ever need to be saved again I feel like he’d know my fanfic preferences, and I’d know he’d know. Then he’d know that I know that he knows. Can’t have that.

Batman is out bc, and I mean this respectfully, he’d scare the shit out of me. The whole appear and disappear into the shadows thing would cause me to faint or panic and end up knocking myself out. That’d be humiliating. It would keep me up at night and I can’t have that. Or worse, I ask a dumb question. “How often do people ask you if you’re a vampire? Follow-up question, how often do people quote twilight to you?”

I picked Jason bc he won’t hurt you unless you’re selling drugs to kids or apart of violent crime, I’ve done neither and plan to never do either, so I’m safe. For now. Plus if I give him a “thank you” gift, he’d be the most chill about it. Plus, depending on the run, I just really like his costume and want to see it up close. Double plus, red is my favorite color, so he’s therefore my favorite.

I picked Damian bc if it’s kid Damian, I’d love to know how he’d react to being called “the sword Robin”, and I feel like his sassy remarks would snap me out of any possible panic I may have. If it’s adult Damian then I get to see some pretty cool assassin techniques. Win-win. I’d also would want to see if I could get him to infodump about animals.

Oh! Good question, anon. I dug this out of the archives because for some reason it got lost in all my drafts.

"If you were in Gotham, which Robin/vigilante would you want to save you?"

I'd have to choose Dick or Jason.

First of all, he will not be immune to the dick jokes. There are just so many jokes I could make and after being saved, I feel like I would accidentally make one. And then I'd probably be questioned about how I know his indentity, but like- "Where's Dick?" "I need Dick!" "Dick is stuck between a rock and a hard place." I already don't know peace. And he's less likely to send my body into shutdown panic attack mode.

Jason because of the reasons you stated previously. I am not a violent criminal or anyone on any category that he'd want to harm. Despite appearing frightening he is quite chill. So I feel like he'd be pretty chill with me. And I would just wanna touch his mask. :3

Batman, Damian, & Tim are out for me.

I feel like I would make Bruce suspicious. Like I'd be like "T-Thank you, B-Bruce. I mean Batman!" Just like the thing with Dick. While Dick may be chiller with it, I don't trust 'I'm fine with making kids child soldiers Mc traumatized man'. I'd more likely to be assaulted by him or harshly interrogated. My throat would shutdown and I'd just be standing there with wide eyes. Like bro chill tf out. Take a Xanax or something. Does Alfred not slip baby pain meds into your food when you're being stubborn?

Damian is too violent for me. Sure he's flashy but he can also be very bratty. I don't need to be insulted (victim blamed) for getting into a vulnerable position and needing help. I love Damian... but he's more of a dick than the dude named Dick. I can also be a smartass so I feel like the two of us would end up bickering.

Tim, yeah. I feel like he'd cyberstalk me. And then he would be walking around as a civilian and would geek out. Dude is into yanderes. I can feel it in my bones. "You're yandereunsolved right? I love your works. I really think how you portray [insert character] is super close to canon. I also have a Tumblr account. Wanna be moots?" And then that's how I would end up with yandere Tim. I'd never be able to write or read fanfics in peace again.

[frownyalfred]

Nearly all my AO3 bookmarks are unhinged (positive) comments for my organization system, and I need you to know that, unironically, a non zero numbers of my bookmarks of your stuff is stuff like, “No Alfred chopping wood, 6.5/10”, “Hal jumpscare. Have learned something about myself today. 8.43/10”, or “Is a WIP. Mean :( 4/10”

The number-crunching process is…intricate, lol.

My bookmarks are also entirely private. I only bookmark writing I love, but I don’t wanna accidentally upset someone when they reasonably interpret things differently, you know? Especially w/authors like you who have written enough for some serious variety and might be worried about people reacting immaturely to new kinds of fic.

I enjoy everything you put out, both for the stuff I found you for (SuperBat for days) and things I honestly used to consider a squick of mine (You have rewritten my brain with your A/B/O AUs)!

I appreciate both your rating system and your care in making sure it's private to prevent misunderstandings. I think I'd be 90% more chill about ratings in bookmarks if they gave an explanation like you described -- though I don't speak for all authors and sometimes the rating itself, even with context, is a slap in the face.

I do think you bring up an important thought here. So much of our tone online is context-dependent, and authors and bookmarkers are sometimes operating in very different circles. Meaning can get lost easily, and feelings can be hurt easily without that being the intention. Keeping things private unless we're certain the author won't be hurt makes the most sense to me right now, until we come up with a better system.

An example of this came to me as I was writing this reply. A few months ago I had someone reblogging my posts on here and tagging them "pedantic." And while yes, I agree that most of my posts are probably a little pedantic, that still stung. I mean, pedantic? You think I'm pedantic? That's all you have to say about it? Why are you reblogging it then?

So I went to their blog, read their pinned post, and realized they had a complex tagging system set up for archiving. "Pedantic" was their own tag for posts that were either longer than a paragraph, or that got into greater detail about certain topics. Their explanation/tag summary made perfect sense after that, but from my POV back on my own blog? All I get is the "pedantic" which again, didn't feel great.

That's all to say -- reader and writer relationships are a push and pull, a constant evaluation of ourselves and others, and we should seek to be kind and perhaps overly cautious when possible. Too many things already get lost in translation here on the internet.