#Bruce is terrified that he will ruin it all

[angstandhappiness]

LMAO but also the tags DUDE

Reverse Robin au but the ages aren't changed. Just adoption order.

[mishy-mashy]

*COUGH*

The Resistance has PTSD of AFO using Cynthia's piano theme

*COUGH*

[nikovraskol]

crack baby ; three

wc ; 3745 masterlist after dying, you expected to be greeted with the open arms of the void swallowing your body, mind and soul. what you didn't anticipate is waking up sixteen once more with a chance to change your fate -- but something strange is happening, why are the locks changing and why are all eyes suddenly on you ?

tw ; brief mention of death, cursing, neglect

prologue, one, two, three, tbc..

Sometimes it feels like there is someone puppeteering you into the worst scenarios possible.

It started when finally, after days of contacting every single landlord in Gotham and Bludhaven, one kind old man reached back. The house he was willing to rent you wasn’t half bad either, certainly no Wayne Manor but a small apartment about a convenience store would suffice.

After regressing, you were stuck in a loop of tears and anger and whatever strange, uncomfortable feeling you got whenever you were reminded of your weird interaction with Dick.

But finally, light at the end of the rainbow! You could cry (of joy this time), but you’ve no time for tears. Not when you’re faced with a big, overpowering problem. Leaving the Manor.

Now, in the past, you could just get up and leave, however after your run-in with Damian and Dick, you’re apprehensive to leave your room. What if you’re ambushed again? By Tim? Or Jason? Or heaven forbid, Dick again? Terrifying! You don’t have time to dilly dally, not when Mr. Kim is waiting in your future home.

So, you’re very on edge, looking around every corner with apprehension, bracing yourself for anything and everything. When you finally reach the door, unharmed, you let out a deep sigh, only to hear a voice behind you.

“Master (Name).”

What now? You whip your head around, a sense of deja vu hitting you, oh, it’s just Alfred. You let out a sigh, glad it’s not Dick with his strange shenanigans. “Alfred, is everything alright?” You smile, out of everyone, Alfred is the one you love most, the one who cradled you close in those agonizingly lonely nights, when you’d call out for your mother, for your father, for anyone.

He was there.

“You’re heading out?” He asks, assessing you with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. A few days ago, Dick had informed him that you were acting strange, you had run away from your older brother. His mind raced, the implications of what that might mean has been weighing on the butler’s mind for days. It was uncharacteristic of you, up until about a week ago you would jump for joy if any of your family would glance at you.

But after that day, that day where you had skipped breakfast .. What changed? Why are you suddenly so uninterested in your family? It’s unnatural. Your whole life had always been dedicated to them, you’d do anything to be apart of them, to be seen. So why? When you finally had the chance to be centre stage, were you walking away? Something about your demeanour was off and he didn’t like it.

“Yes, I’ve–” You pause, should you tell Alfred? I’m going to move out and never speak to anyone from this house again! No, you’ll wait until you’ve secured a place before letting him know. You’re not prepared for that conversation. “I’m going to– for a walk.” The lie is stale on your tongue, you’ve never lied to Alfred, not besides petty ones to get out of trouble. But this feels different, a heavy knot tying in your shoulders as you watch the butler’s confused expression.

“Is that so? Because a few days ago, Master Dick–” You were out the door before he could finish his damn sentence. You are not in the mood to discuss Dick right now! It’s going to ruin your chipper mood.

The click of the door had Alfred’s eyes narrowing, his eyes trained on where you once stood. He believed that the small push he gave Bruce would be enough, but it’s just driving you further away. How troublesome, he doesn’t want for you to end up hurt.

“Wow! This is a really great place? And I get the first month free?” You are convinced whatever deity sent you back in time is responsible for the saint before you. The small, chubby old man who speaks to you in such a paternal voice it makes you want to cry.

“Of course, it’s no problem, I just need to speak to your guardian to agree on your emancipation, plus they’ll need to sign some consent forms.”

“What?” You blink dumbly, your heart momentarily stopping before the damn organ speeds up so quickly it could power a small village, you try to convey your thoughts but all you can manage is a few dumb noises. “Are– Are you sure?”

“Apologies, since you’re only sixteen – you must have a guardian’s consent, this is a legal rental after all,” he smiles apologetically, before adding, “if you want to live somewhere without your parent’s consent, it’ll have to be illegally – which can be dangerous, ‘specially for a youngling such as yourself.”

Oh, right. You’re sixteen. The fact slipped your mind once more, you’re so foolish. So damn foolish, nothing will ever be so easy, nothing in your life will ever be handed to you like this. “Right, I’ll– let you know.” You smile, your eyes scanning over the small apartment once more. It reminds you of the place you stayed with your mother, the small space encapsulating those memories you hold dear so perfectly that if you light a few ciggerattes and close your eyes, you'll go back in time.

“I’ll keep this off-sale for you, please let me know as soon as possible.” Mr. Kim, so nicely adds, his small face – wrinkled with age, softening at your disheartened expression. You so desperately want to beg for him to rethink, to make an exception, but you don't want to get him in trouble, not since he’s been so kind.

And so, with a heavy heart, you walk out, walking with effort since your feet don’t want to leave. Don’t want to leave a future that could be, that should’ve been. Ugh, how disgustingly sentimental.

You don’t feel like returning to the Manor, not yet. The air outside is nice, it’s nice to breathe in a taste of something other than the suffocating walls around you, even if it’s just some dingy back alley. It’s nice to see what could’ve been, that is until a large hand clamps down on your shoulder.

Oh, great. So the one time you leave the Manor you die again. Maybe you’ll regress to when you’re eleven next, you muse.

“What the hell are you doing around here?” You recognise that voice and immediately you don’t want to turn around. What is he doing out? During the day? You thought vigilantes only patrol during the lunar hours, so why? Your heart squeezes in your throat, desperate to claw its way out, to escape your pitiful body.

After a tense moment of silence, you turn around, there he stands. Red Hood, your older brother. Well, older brother is a stretch, you’ve never really interacted with him – much like the rest of your family. You were brought in when he was still Robin, but he died shortly after. A small, vengeful part of you blamed him for your neglect. That was until Bruce brought in Tim, and you watched bitterly how Tim was embraced immediately, he didn’t have to fight for any attention, he was accepted by everyone and you were forced to swallow the thought that it wasn't Jason's fault -- but your own.

When Jason was somehow brought back, you selfishly hoped you would be able to bond with him, that he’d be the one to look back at you, to get to your level and hold you close.

No such thing happened, the only time you saw him was when he was walking through the Manor to the Batcave, and even then, he gave you a bone-chilling glare. You didn’t think of him so optimistically after that. Now, with his hand clutching your shoulder, his expression covered by his menacing red helmet..

You’re ready to be shot 5 times again.

“I asked you a question.” He says, his hand tightening on your shoulder, you snap out of your stupor immediately, your fear morphing into frustration. You shove his hand off of you with more effort than you’re comfortable with, and even then you’re sure he’s the one who dropped his hand to not embarrass you any further.

“I’m allowed to go outside.” You huff, your nerves practically fighting against the restraints of your skin, a cold, overbearing feeling rushing over you. This was..– Everything was wrong, this is not how this is supposed to go, not at all.

“You were talking to Mr. Kim, why?” He asks bluntly, your heart stops beating for a moment, the only thing you can hear is the ringing in your ears, your brain trying to block this all out, trying to block out everything. “Actually, nevermind, I think I know why.”

You want to cry, why was this happening? You were so happy, so content. Why do you bump into them every time you leave your room, can’t you have one good day? Will you need to become a hermit? Will that get them off your back?

“I can drive you back to the Manor–”

“No, I’m fine.” You cut him off, your voice not masking any of your fear, it has Jason blinking under his mask. Why were you so on edge? What’s going on with you?

“I insist– Gotham isn’t safe for you to just be–..” He watches the downright terrified expression on your face before sighing and signalling for you to go, his stomach churns in an unfamiliar way as you scurry away.

Why were you so nervous? Could it be that you're scared of him?

That’s understandable, you’re not a vigilante, you’re just some average kid. But when he saw you walking alone, he detests himself for the way his heart swelled with happiness. In his Robin days, he loved watching the normalcy of your life, the way you would live free of any strings to the ghastly occupation he had.

He was scared to get closer, scared to shatter that illusion you had.

The fear amplified when he came back to life, he was relieved to see that you were still unaffiliated with Batman, but fuck, he was too cowardly to reach out, that day when you looked at him with gladness, he was hit with a paralysing fear of you getting too close, of you getting hurt. He replays the crushed expression that dawned your face like a damn broken stereo.

So when he saw you sulking about a few moments ago, he saw his chance to reach out, to get a taste of your normalcy, he took it, however selfish it may be.

“Whatever.” He grits, climbing up the roof to tail you, he’s content with watching from afar, for now.

The whole way back to the Manor felt like a fever dream, you can’t brush these oddities off as coincidences, why the hell did Red Hood approach you. Was he trying to pull a Damian? Was that a simple reminder of how pathetic you are? Why did he do that?!

Why was everyone acting so strangely?

The Manor offered you no comfort, it’s looming walls did nothing but remind you of your own shortcomings, you were afraid, you were perplexed but above all you were furious. Why now? When you’ve finally accepted your position in this family, why are they all turning their heads. Well damn them! You’re sick of this whole stupid charade, you won’t be that small child anymore, a child who knew only loneliness. You’re going to become your own person outside of the surname which has held you back for so long.

“We need to talk.” A voice calls out as you reach your room, what now? You’re sick of these damn conversations. You just want to move out, why is it so damn hard?

Oh, it’s Bruce again. Your lips press into a thin line as he stands before you, you can hear the soft humming running through the Manor walls. When you were younger, that sound brought you so much comfort, yet now it’s different. Like a warning.

“Talk? About what?” You try to smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace. You’re distinctly aware of the way his brows furrow at your pitiful expression. Oh hell, you hope this won’t be another walk down the Manor where you awkwardly fumble in silence.

You don’t say anything as he leads you away from your room, a sullen quilt draped over the Manor, a strange foreboding sense that something’s going to happen. Something bad. You’re utterly perplexed as your father guides you to a part of the Manor you’re somewhat familiar with.

As a child, you used to lurk around the corners of these very walls, watching your family, itching to reach out and join in but fearing ruining the delicate painting they created. Fearing rejection, the cold glares and sneers as they pushed you away. So you trailed silently, waiting, hoping that someone would look back, smile at you and maybe hold out their hand. But it only ever happened in your dreams, a pale illusion of a reality that should've been true.

“Where did you go?” He asks, his eyes boring onto you with such intensity you can distinctly feel the way your blood begins furiously to pump through your veins, why did he care? “Alfred said you went out.”

“I just wanted some fresh air.” You’re not sure why you’re lying, it’d be easier to tell Bruce that you went to go see a house, the consent forms are folded in your pocket, waiting for his signature. It’d be so simple, so easy. Just a dip of pen on paper and you’ll be out.

So why do you feel such dread? A dread unlike anything you’ve ever felt. When you were in that alley, bleeding out helplessly, even then this oppressive feeling, which tightens your ribcage, forcing your organs into a tight space until you couldn’t breathe, until you couldn’t comprehend if it was your heart pounding so heavily or your lungs, wasn't as scary.

“You’re only sixteen, you need to let someone know where you’re going.” His voice is so unbelievably despotic that it made your very core tremble with anxiety, with a looming sense of doom.

“It’s never been a problem before.” You mumble, your voice a lot quieter than you would’ve liked, your vocal chords burning with each word passing through it, your nerves invading each of your senses, as if warning you to stay quiet.

Bruce says nothing, and the moment the air grows stale you wish you could take your words back. You can see the way his brows crease, the way he looks at you as though you’re some sort of criminal and not his own flesh and blood, the soft humming in the walls has disappeared, left behind in your area of the Manor. Though it’s odd, when you would lurk around the Manor as a youthling, there was always some sort of background noise in this area, where everyone hung out. The silence unnerved you, another thing that’s changed, another thing you couldn’t have predicted.

“If you’re going out, make sure to let me know.” He sighs, his expression softening as he looks down at you with what you interpret as belittlement, a burning hot rage boils in your stomach, and once more, you’re hit with the knowledge this isn’t how things are supposed to go, Bruce isn’t supposed to care that you go out without telling anyone, he’s not supposed to care about you.

‘You don’t get to tell me what to do!’ you want to say, you want to scream, to ask what rights he has to treat you like a child? How dare he? It makes your very being tremble with frustration, your hands clenching with barely contained anger.

But you don’t. Why? Is it the natural response from your mind? The fear of disappointing him? The fear that if you speak up, you’ll be kicked out and left to rot? Or perhaps it’s the fear of confrontation you gained through his negligence, the weakness he moulded. But still, you’re not sixteen anymore, not really. Mentally, you’re twenty-one, you’ve been through each stage of your life, and maybe, sure, the day you died, you were content for them to walk all over you in exchange for a single glance at your direction.

But you’ve died and come back (in time)! You shouldn’t let them walk all over you anymore, shouldn’t be content as an afterthought. So– you open your mouth and–

“What’s going on?” Another voice speaks out, great, because this is exactly what you needed, another clown to join the circus. Oh.

Is this a joke? Is the person responsible for your misfortune giggling at your despair, is it amusing to see you suffer?

Damian, Dick, Jason and now Tim.

Why is Tim walking up to you? Why is he looking at you? A rush of dread, a sensation you’ve grown familiar with in the past few days, washes over you. You’ve never had his eyes on you, never for so long. It’s unnerving. You thought the calculating look in Bruce and Damian’s eyes was scary, but the way Tim looks at you now? His eyes zeroed in on you? It has your insides melting into liquid, the urge to cover your face, to hide in the corner and bury your face in your knees is overwhelming.

You don’t want his eyes on you, you decide. Years of clawing at your own shortcomings, of desperately trying to appeal to him, to have him look back – you would do anything at that time for him to look at you the way he is now.

But now? You don’t like it, he wears a neutral expression, but the look in his eyes makes you feel vulnerable, like he’s picking you apart one by one, each twitch, each mannerism.

“It’s about what we talked about.” Bruce says, his tone completely natural, like he’s discussing the weather, you don’t know the specifics but you have a nagging feeling that you know what he’s speaking of.

“Ah. Really? You’re still on that?” Tim tuts, his head tilting ever so slightly as he studies you. Just as you’re about to ask what the fuck does he mean by that, he turns his attention to Bruce. “I told you, they can’t do anything without your consent, they’re 16.”

How dare they? How dare they talk as though you’re not here? This is disgusting, what loathsome, egotistical dickheads! Your hands itch, the anxiety in you speeding all over your body like a livewire, mixing with your anger to create an overwhelming feeling of terror.

What was the point of Bruce bringing you here? To mock you? Show you how great they have it? What you’ve been missing out on? Well, screw him. You need to get away before you lash out, you’re better than that. Better than this.

The pair watches as you walk away, your whole body tense. For a moment, there’s a prolonged silence which is broken by Tim. “Did we do something wrong?” He asks, genuinely confused by your little display.

When he came back from a particularly tough mission, the last thing he was expecting was everybody collectively freaking out. Bruce, Damian, even Dick were all tense, looking around each corner – searching for something, someone. 

It was weird for a multitude of reasons, firstly – Dick was supposed to be gone by now, his stay at the Manor was for a few days only. Why is he here? And secondly, nothing particularly stressful was happening in Gotham, so what was with the gloom and doom?

When Bruce sighed, telling him about your plans to move out, well, to say Tim was confused was an understatement. That did not deserve such a reaction, but then he really thought about it, and, if this is how they react to you threatening to leave..

If you were to actually step out that door, to alienate away from them, to discard your last name. His head begins to throb at the implications, he’s acutely aware of how selfish it is for him to wish to keep you around, to keep you in this Manor all to keep himself happy.

But then the thought that, really, he’s doing this for you! If you thought it was so easy to just get up and leave, that at sixteen you’d just be able to pack up and go. Well, with that stupidity, you wouldn’t survive outside, in Gotham no less. He was able to placate Bruce’s stressing, thankfully, because the man looked three minutes away from a heart attack.

You wouldn’t be able to go without Bruce’s permission, so long as they had that – you’d stay with them. But that’s what led him to seeking you out now, if you had ideas about leaving that meant you were unhappy.

He was hoping to talk to you, to ask if you wanted to hang out – that’s what you want, right? When he thinks of you, his mind conjures up the slightly annoying, slightly endearing child that you were. He’ll hang out with you, destroy those silly notions and everything will go back to how it was.

So why did you stomp off? That’s not how you’re supposed to act. That’s not how you are.

“I don’t think so.” Bruce replies to his earlier question, his eyes still trained on the spot in which you were. How could you walk off?

Why were you so off during that conversation? He couldn’t��– This belies everything Alfred had told him about you, it's left Bruce conflicted. He had hoped that by bringing you here, he could ask which room you liked best. But you walked off, why? Why do you deny his affection? He was worried when he heard you left, a small, vulnerable part of him was afraid that you wouldn’t come back, that you had left for good, slipped through his fingers before he could hold you close.

So, when he saw you walk in – oh, he was elated. He just wanted to convey his worries, but you seemed to have gotten the wrong idea. He really doesn’t want that, you don't need anymore reasons to leave.

He doesn’t want the terrified expression on your face, he wants that dazzled look you used to carry around, he wants you – not this restless part of you, but the real you.

He'll get it back, he's sure he will.

ugh i hate the misunderstanding trope i say as i write the misunderstanding trope

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[sparrows4bats]

Pretty Damian is killing me. @ghostly-bat @bizzylosingcats I hope you enjoy the fruits of the seeds you have sown in my mind.

Damian grows up to look like Talia more and more. He still has his Dad's jawline and brows, but that is Talias Baby! By the time he is an adult, he has Talias nose and cheekbones. Her skintone and green eyes. When he forgets to get his hair cut, his mother's waves appear. When he smiles, it is an Al ghul grin.

Due to being vegetarian and training with Dick and Talia the most, Damian is lithe and flexible. Built for speed and stealth. He doesn't have the bulk of his brothers and stops growing at 5 foot 10, a respectable height even if Jon keeps resting his chin on his head!

Overall, Damian is a supermodel in the making he just doesn't realise it, but it's not his fault. All of the Wayne's are ridiculously good-looking, and Damian never notices his pretty privilege because he chalks the stuff people do for him up to him being a Wayne. He doesn't view people and physical appearance like that, so the idea they are hitting on him doesn't even cross his mind.

His family doesn't realise how big an issue this is until Damian shows up to a Wayne Gala dressed to nines for the first time in years.

Since starting his paediatric and Truama Surgery specialities, Damian has pretty much lived in scrubs, and when he is not working, he's in pyjamas trying to rest as much as possible before his next shift.

So, when Bruce forces them all to attend the Wayne Gala, Damain asks Stephanie and Cass to pick out his outfit for him because he's busy.

The girls get him a fitted black suit with a deep green dress shirt that is artfully unbuttoned to show off his collar bone. He is adorned in gold jewellery and has subtle kohl around his eyes to complete the look.

When he enters the Gala, he captures the awe and attention of everybody. The socialites crowd around Dr Wayne, much to the horror of his family.

Dick spends the night rescuing Damian from his admirers.

Tim pays attention to who gets a little too close and decides on a few little investigations later.

Jason punches a guy who tries to grope him.

Bruce is inundated with blind date requests and even arranged marriage proposals. It's the first time he has been considering getting drunk for real at a party.

The girls are proud of themselves and terrified of what they have released into the world.

Duke spends the party helping Damian hide with his powers.

The issue is that it doesn't stop after the Gala. Photos of Damian are leaked to the press, and Gotham goes wild!

A young prodigy doctor who works with underprivileged children! And he looks like that! There's fan pages up in minutes.

He's an animal lover?! Well, now his pets all have fan pages, too!

Damian Wayne is out trending his entire family and said family are losing their collective mind!

They hate it. If they see one more thirst post, Oracle is going to start ruining lives! (Damian, who, other than looking at art pages, does not use social media, is blissfully ignorant of it all.)

It gets worse when the heroes meet Dr Wayne one day. They know Robin retired, and those who know the batfamilys identify know Damian went to school, but no one has seen him in a while.

No one is prepared for the re introduction.

During a potentially world ending event, Superman gets injured. They can't get to the internal injuries because of the inpeneratable skin, and there's a lump of kryptonite lodged somewhere inside of him. And instead of panicking or trying to help, his son flies off.

Everyone is so confused. Until he returns minutes later carrying a man in a white coat.

"Everyone stand back now!"

Batman and his team obey instantly; forcing everyone else to do the same. Superboy lets the man go as he runs to the fallen Superman.

Then, he takes out a medical kit from seemingly nowhere and inspects the wound. "Jon I'm going to need you to hold him still while I sedate him."

It's only after the surgery began that they noticed all of the instruments glow green.

"It's done, but he needs yellow sun," the stranger turns to the crowd that's gathered. "Is anyone else hurt?"

They all freeze at the sight of green eyes, messy hair, and a perfect face. Slowly, all hands go up.

The gorgeous man sighs, "Batman, Nightwing, I need you to grab med bags 7 A and 8 B. They are stocked for Metas and Diagnostic Use."

Both men glare at them but do as they are told.

"Now I want everyone to form a line, Spoiler can you help with triage?" The purple vigilante nods.

The doctor is there for hours and sees each one of them. Many blush as he examines them.

Superboy, meanwhile, hovers over his father and glares the entire time.

The Bats guard the doctor but listen to his every demand. (Apparently, they were hiding their own injuries. The beautiful man berates them all while stitching them up and force feeding Red Robin pills.)

When they leave, many have a lot of questions, many looking for his number.

Nightwing, Batman, and Superboy look especially pissed when Blue Beetle asks him for it.

The pretty doctor appears a few more times always accompanied by the Bats and the Supers. (Many heros try to catch his attention, but Batman always seems to know when they cause their injuries on purpose.)

Jon is pissed. When he went and got Damian for his Dad, he never expected it to go like this!

He sees how the others look at Damian, how they try to impress him, and wants to drag his Robin from the Watchtower immediately.

Where was this admiration when Damian was Robin? When he was literally killing himself to be a good leader, a good hero? They didn't want him, either of them, then. They don't deserve him now.

So Jon does something he should have done years ago and asks Damian Wayne on a date. He is so lucky he says yes.

Their dating life is so easy, so natural it feels like they can breathe easier even though they didn't realise they were struggling before.

Jon gets to wooing the love of his life. It's not hard, but God is it fun to do all the things he has wanted to do for Damian for years.

And Damian apparently does the same. He calls it courting and, for some reason, doesn't freak out when Jon proposes after two months. Their parents sure do, but They dont know that Jon was going to propose after the second date. This was restraint. (Damian was planning his own proposal, but his custom order ring took too long.)

But Jon is blissful, and so is Damian. And no one really blames him after they meet his fiance.

The Next Gala Bruce makes sure to invite the League when they announce their engagement publicly. Jon withstands the envy just fine with his beautiful Robin by his side.

[womanofwords]

Everybody's Favourite (Part 14)

You started spending weekdays over at the Iceberg Lounge, much to the Batfam's chagrin. Each time, your excuse for leaving rubbed them the wrong way.

"Sorry, meeting investors for the Ice Block! One of them's Japanese, so I have to be there to translate!"

"I'm discussing prices for the ice creams with Papa!"

"Uncle Harvey and I are discussing logos and copyright law for the business!"

"That's it. I'm ending this myself," Damian said. "Nobody steals my sibling and gets away with it."

"Damian, do not try to seek Y/N out," Bruce warned, although his heart broke to say such a thing. "It'll just make things worse."

You were making headlines a lot, too, and not only for being Gotham's wounded dove. As it turned out, you were a legend.

Y/N Wayne Throws 5th Birthday Party For Pothole That Is Five Years Old

Y/N Wayne Found Flying Around Gotham On Hoverboard

Y/N Wayne Caught Commanding Birds; Claims Their Papa Taught Them

"Father, Y/N can't actually command birds, can they?" Damian asked.

"I . . . have no idea," Bruce admitted. "I really have no idea."

Tim's sleep schedule got worse with each headline; every time a new one was released, he would stay up all of the next night cyberstalking you. It only made things worse.

Click. There you were, opening the first Ice Block location. Click. You were visiting the zoo with Oswald, feeding the parrots. Click. You were painting your nails black, white, and gold. Cobblepot colours, you called it.

They also noticed your stuff moving out. It was just some trivial trinkets at first, but then it became bigger and more important stuff. Weirdly enough, nobody ever saw anybody move anything. It just . . . vanished.

One day, you moved out for good. You left a letter on your bed (one of the last pieces of big furniture left behind) for Alfred to read.

Dear former family,

For ten years, I have been in this house with you, eating the same foods at the same table, but with a seat far removed from you all. I have tried to invite you into my life, telling you about trivial school matters and asking you your opinions on clothing choices, but to no avail. I watched my father shut me out of his life, only throwing me cold looks like a prison warden throwing scraps of rotten food at a starving prisoner. It hurt so much to watch you shower everyone but me with love and affection, making it clear who your favourites were and weren't.

I had so many questions to ask you, Bruce, questions I have contented myself with being left unanswered. How did you meet my mother? Why didn't you know about me earlier? If my mother hadn't died, would you ever know I existed? Life at Wayne Manor wouldn't have looked any different without me, except Damian wouldn't have had anybody to torment.

Everything changed when I was taken. It was terrifying at first, but I settled into a routine very quickly. Papa noticed my talents and potential very quickly, and my aunts and uncles took a shine to me very quickly. Finally, I knew what parental love felt like, how it felt to be surrounded by people who actually wanted to know you, rather than people who had to put up with you.

But it wouldn't last. Batman had to come in and ruin it on your behalf, suspiciously after the fourteen-day video we'd made. I could only watch in horror as my family were beaten up by him and his Batkids and I was kidnapped again.

When I was returned to Wayne Manor, you acted different. You went from cold to overly affectionate. It unnerved me. Dick called me 'baby bird', Bruce fed me lies about my papa, and Damian brought up the nauseating fact about me being his blood sibling. The last people I wanted to see were too close for comfort, and the people I did want to see were forced away from me. You really pick your moments, don't you?

Being around you long-term is nothing short of bad luck. I go for a walk with Stephanie and I get a drink thrown at my head and my 'sister' using me as a human shield. I go with you to a gala and become acquainted with your horrifying unpopularity. It is embarrassing to be seen with you.

So I'm leaving. I can't be with family members that only try and build a relationship when they fear a loss of status. By the time you read this, I will be legally adopted into the Cobblepot family. (Adult adoption's a thing, you know.) I will be sending you all restraining orders very shortly, except for Alfred. I hold no ill will towards him. However, if he ever tries relaying messages from you to me, I will cut him off without delay. I will also be tipping off Animal Control about Titus, since no normal ten-year-old should be commanding a vicious animal. If the authorities find out about your vigilante lives, then so be it. You are, as of this moment, not my problem.

I do desire that we become better strangers than family.

(Not) yours,

Y/N Cobblepot.

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

Part 14 <- You are finished

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

OK, folks, that's it! You're at the end of the line with this fanfic; I have posted the very last part. Thank you for the nourishment (likes and reblogs) and the encouragement (comments)! I will be back soon with a new multi-part story, and I'll let you pick which one comes on first.

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

“My little love,Mama’s got a lot to learn.”

Batboys x single mum reader

My little love by Adele makes me cry every time now that i have kid.Because what if im doing this all wrong.Buttt enjoy!

Bruce Wayne

• At first, Bruce is hesitant — not about you, but about whether he could be a good father figure for your child.

• Once he commits, he commits. He’s suddenly funding your child’s education, upgrading their stroller to a literal tank and reading parenting books at 3AM.

• Surprisingly good at bedtime stories — his deep voice makes fairy tales sound like epic adventures.

• He sometimes slips and calls your kid “ours.” You pretend not to notice, but your heart definitely does.

⸻

Dick Grayson

• Dick loves kids — he’s the type to immediately crouch down to their level and ask their name.

• He’s the fun “stepdad” type — trampoline parks, baking cookies (he burns them), and choreographed dance parties.

• Teaches your kid acrobatics and ends up making them his little sidekick-in-training.

• Loves you fiercely and constantly reassures you that you’re not in this alone anymore.

⸻

Jason Todd

• Jason is surprisingly protective — he softens a lot around your child, even if he still gives off a rough exterior to the world.

• Reads your kid classic literature and gritty detective novels — he says they need “culture,” but he skips the violent parts.

• Carries juice boxes in his jacket like he’s carrying ammo. Snacks on one side, weapons on the other.

• He never talks about being a good role model, but shows up for every school event and parent-teacher conference without fail.

⸻

Tim Drake

• Tim overthinks everything — he googled “how to bond with children” the minute he found out you were a single mum.

• Gets overwhelmed at first but eventually becomes your kid’s favorite nerdy uncle-type. Teaches them coding, chess, and gives them supervised access to the Batcomputer.

• Sleep-deprived bonding moments — your child once woke up from a nightmare and found Tim already awake researching ways to help.

• You once caught them both asleep in front of a monitor, drooling onto a pile of LEGOs and snack wrappers.

Damian Wayne (Angsty Edition)

• When you first meet, Damian is distant. He’s polite — in that blunt, vaguely condescending way — but he keeps emotional distance from both you and your child.

• It’s not personal. He’s terrified of failing. Of becoming like his mother. Of inheriting the worst of both legacies and ruining a child that isn’t even his.

• He watches from the sidelines — his expression unreadable as your child laughs, clutches your hand, calls out to him with easy affection. Something tightens in his chest every time.

• One day, your child gets hurt. Not seriously — just a scraped knee, a tumble. But Damian’s reaction is instant and furious — with himself. He cradles them gently, whispering in Arabic, not realizing he’s shaking.

• He tries to push you away afterward. “They deserve someone better,” he says. “You both do.”

• But your child draws him a picture of “Dami, Mum, and me.” It’s crudely drawn — your child has given him a sword and a heart.

• He keeps the drawing folded in his wallet. No one knows it’s there.

• Damian doesn’t say “I love you” easily — but he shows it in quiet acts. Fixing your child’s broken toy with surgical precision. Standing watch outside their door during storms. Holding you in the quiet moments and asking, “Are you sure you want this? Me?”

• He eventually starts calling your child “my son” or “my daughter.” Quietly. Fiercely. As if daring the world to question it.

[panakina]

There is a tiny sliver, deep down inside of batman, that is proud of the red hood. He’s ashamed of it, everything in him revolts against it, but it remains.

His son played the most feared crime lord in Gotham like a fiddle. In one night he earned the fear batman spent years cultivating. He put his boot on Gotham’s throat and had just the right leverage to keep it there.

Atrocity. Murder. Lives ruined, principles discarded, everything he stood for thrown back in his face. An abomination in his son’s skin. It is sickening to him.

But bruce’s clever little boy always knew the importance of efficacy. And he honed himself into terrifying competence.

Bruce forged himself around his principles because his ambitions needed them. Desperately. He wouldn’t settle for anything less than perfect control. Of everything. Every blow must land where it is needed and nowhere else, every scrap of knowledge must be correct, every judgement call exact. He can’t be proud. He can only be right.

If you’re going to do something, put your everything in it. Give nothing less than your all and accept nothing less than absolute perfection.

Bruce’s son is a bad man. And he’s better at it than anyone else.

Bruce looks at his son with grief and horror. And pride.

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Hit List pt. 2

Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Pairing: Jason Todd/Red Hood X (f)reader

Tags: NSFW, toxic romance,dark romance, dark Jason, psychotic Jason, mean Jason, brain-washing, violence, Jason's death, threatening, stalking, intimidation, blackmail, unethical behavior, mafia au, exes, assassination, semi-public sex, fingering, kissing, love confessions, mourning, ruined orgasms.

The door opening snapped you out of your concentration. Your head shot up, eyes wide with surprise as the imposing figure in the red helmet stepped into your lab. Then your heartbeat froze as you recognized the terrifying figure you've been seeing on the news for the past month. The red hood - the crime lord of Gotham - was in your lab.

"Uh... can I help you?" you asked, your voice wary.

The red hood sweeped the room. You shifted uncomfortably.

“I’ve got some questions,” his low baritone was distorted through the modulator.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ Six Years Prior◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

Jason lay on the warehouse floor, his Robin suit was torn around different parts, the exposed skin under it seeping blood onto the cold floor. Speaking of cold, Jason was pretty sure he was going to die here.

Yeah... asking Batman to let him patrol alone was just another notch down the line of Jason's cocky mistakes. But after doing it for so long, being Robin has become a second nature. He could beat up henchmen with his eyes closed and his arms tied. So, of course, he thought he could handle Joker alone to save his mother. Hell, he might have even stood a chance, but the moment he'd entered the Joker’s hideout, some familiar scent hit him, and Jason became numb in an instant.

Joker had been at it for so long that the boy should no longer register the pain from the crowbar. Only... he did. He felt every cut, hit, punch, every bruising hit.

Joker needn't have bothered with the gag, Jason lost his voice from screaming a while ago.

The newly carved "J" scar on his cheek hurt like a bitch.

"Well? Looks like bats are going to be late to save ya, kiddo." Joker laughed. "Bad traffic, I guess."

Jason didn't bother talking. Too exhausted. Everything after that was blacked out. Then he stopped breathing.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

Jason was in excruciating pain. He was losing his mind. All of the hurt from his torture, from the explosion that followed, attacked his senses all at once.

He was in Ra’s al Ghul’s hidden stronghold, recovering from his resurrection. The room was dimly lit, incense filling in the air as Jason lay on a cold stone slab, his body wracked with phantom pain from his death. Ra’s entered and stood beside him, offering him water and speaking with a calculated gentleness. "You’ve been through a lot, Jason. The cruelty of this world knows no bounds."

Jason spoke with a hoarse "Bruce… Did he…?"

Ra’s tone stayed calm. "Save you? He didn’t even try."

Jason struggled to sit up, his face contorted in confusion. "No. I dont believe you. He would have… he he’s my fath-"

Ra’s directed Jason’s attention to a screen showing pictures of batman running side by side with... Robin, "While you were rotting in a shallow grave, your so-called father was playing hero with the one who replaced you."

Jasons tone was angry yet desperate as tears filled his vision. "No. He wouldn’t - he didn’t forget me."

But seeing the images of the boy in the Robin suit, he shut his mouth.

Jason recalled moments of Bruce’s kindness - of patching him up after a rough mission, smiling at him when Jason mastered a new skill or got an award at school. "He saved me before. He would’ve done if he could-"

"But he didn’t, young one." Ras said. "I did. Who truly values you, Jason? The one who abandoned you to die or the one who gave you your life back?"

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

Jason's breathing quickened as his fists pounded the hanging punching bag in Al Ghul’s dojo.

He had overheard an exchange between Ra's and his daughter. The topic of which was Batman, a word which recently became a trigger to him.

Jason continued olbiterating the punching bag, which had tore open where his fists landed, mixing with his bloody knuckles.

I wasn’t worth the risk? I was his son! How could he-how could he just let me die?!

Ra’s placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder making him stop his movements. "Its difficult to cope. You were nothing more than a soldier to him. A pawn in his war. But to me, you are a warrior. A leader."

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

"We found this in your bloodstream the night you were killed." Thalia Al Ghul held up a vial of clear liquid. Jason nodded, hunched over a table with his shirt pulled over. A medic was stiching up a nasty gash he got from a recent mission.

"It's relatively new," she continued. "Not FDA approved. Not even patented. But my men tracked it to a lab in Gotham University. It matches the research on several Academic papers published by a PHD student."

Jason frowned at the colorless liquid, hissing against the anchoring pain of the stitching. "What is it?"

"It's basic form blocks pain receptors. Joker played around with it and manipulated the chemical to immobilize people by overstimulating their nervous systems. It can cause a hallucinatory haze, so they're unable to defend themselves. Sound familiar?" She asked.

Jason ground his teeth and nodded, recalling how disoriented and agonized he felt during his torture.

Then, another memory surfaced his mind. One rainy day at school, when talking to you about your lab research.

"Im calling it 'Chill Mist,'" you said, proudly holding up a vial. "It'll be a breakthrough in healthcare, Jay. It blocks pain receptors and induces a calming state. For when people undergo trauma or surgery." You explained excitedly, spraying a bit of it in the air for him to smell.

"What's the name of the student working on it?" Jason's tone was grave when he asked Talia.

He anticipated the name before Thalia spoke it, but it didn't prepare him from the painful stab of betrayal in his chest.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

Raw anger fueled him as Jason stared at the limp body of his duel oponent lying lifeless at his feet.

Ra’s clapped proudly once. "See what you’re capable of? This is just the beginning, Jason. You will become unstoppable."

Jason stared at the blood on his hands, the sword shaking in his grip.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ Six Years Later ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

Dmitry, a lower level henchman in the Russian mafia, sat across the table from the red hood, swallowing thickly. He felt for his gun in his holster and was relieved it was still there.

He's heard stories about the Red Hood from rival gangs, and he damn near shit his pants sitting across from him now. Worse, so when the man finally spoke, addressing him in his native language. "Привет Дима," (hello, Dima)

Dima looked around himself nervously, wondering why he was here instead of his boss. "Г-где Сергей?" (Where's Sergey?)

"Сергея больше нет. C сегодняшнего дня, я твой новый бос. Продолжим на английском. "(Sergey no longer exists. Starting today, im your new boss.We're gonna continue this conversation in English.)

Dmitry paled, his eyes cast down to the duffle bag resting beside the Red Hood's boots, suspecting the worst. "Бляд..." He swore under his breath. "W-we didn’t know it was your turf!"

The hood let out a sound that might have been a chuckle, but it was distorted behind the mask.

He leaned against the desk, spinning his knife lazily in his hand. "The whole fuckin' city's my turf."

Danny tried to protest, but Jason interrupted. "Here’s how it works now. You want to work in Gotham, you pay me a cut. I keep the cops off your back, keep you alive, and make sure you don’t sell this filth to kids. You mess up, you disappear. Simple enough?"

When Danny hesitated, Jason flipped the knife into his hand and buried it in the table beside him. "That wasn’t a question."

Danny nodded frantically.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

The by-now famous Red Hood walked into Arkham asylum to blaring sirens as inmates shook the bars of their prison cells, shouting his name. Under the fluorescent lights, he could make out some familiar faces. But he was only here for one.

Joker looked up as red hood approached, a grin spreading across his face. "What's this?" He asked. "A fan coming to visit -"

The gunshot rang out before he could finish talking. The smoke raising from the red hood's gun. He climbed out into a nearby window and jumped out, the jokers cold body on the floor behind him.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

Jason's eyes narrowed as he watched you through the window of you lab. You looked different now, older than the girl he once knew, but no less intoxicating. He clenched his fists, feeling the phantom pain of his death crawling all over his body.

You didn’t know. He reminded himself. You didn’t know what the Joker planned that night...

But you made it. That damn toxin that burned through his veins, twisting his screams into something unrecognizable even to himself.

Jason ground his teeth behind his mask. How was it fair that you got to walk away? That you got to live while he had to claw his way out of a fucking grave?

His gloved hand flexed over the hilt of his knife. He wouldn’t kill you, no. But he would make you pay. One way or another, he would make you pay.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

Your hand reached for your phone charging on the table, but he noticed. He grasped you by your lab coat, easily pushing you against the wall. His grip was firm as he pinned your hands above your head. The sharp edge of his helmet pressed against your side. "What? Don't you trust me? After all this time..." the words released in a low chuckle.

Confused, you struggled against him. "I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t-"

He stepped closer, pressing you against the wall and locking your movement. The sound of his boots against the floor echoed in the quiet of the empty room.

You heard a click of metal and risked a glance to see him lift the helmet before dropping it to the ground.

Your breath left in a rush as your world tilted. Impossible...

"Jason...?" you whispered, barely audible.

He smiled down at you. Not the boyish grin you remembered. But a sharp, humorless. "Surprise."

You stared, taking in the stark differences. The Jason you remembered was cocky and boyish. The man standing above you now had sharper features, his body bulkier, and his eyes were hollowed pools of blue - once bright and mischievous - now held pain and anger aimed at you.

You stammered. “You - how - youre dead!”

"Aparently not." He drawled. “And congrats on being the first person to know who’s under the Red Hood.”

The Red Hood. That’s who he’s become. The vigilante-turned-crime lord everyone in Gotham feared or admired. And he was standing in front of you, the same boy with whom you did your homework, the one who pulled your hair at school, who took your first kiss, and more.

Jason’s gaze roamed over you, his expression unreadable. "What's wrong, baby? You look like you’ve seen a ghost," he said, his tone filled with amusement.

You voice shool as tears filled your eyes. "What happened to you?"

He told you. Step by step. Recounting the literal horror he'd experienced. By the time he finished his story, it was clear to you that Jason blamed you for hia death.

Jason felt a twisted satisfaction in seeing your head shake, guilt evident in your teary eyes.

His hand slid to your body, the leather of his glove cool against your skin. “Tell me,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Does it bother you? Knowing that every time I look at you, I see the reason I died?” he emphasized by wrapping around your throat.

You opened your mouth to speak, but Jason’s lips crushed against yours before you could form a single word. It wasn’t tender; it was raw, punishing, a collision of teeth and desperation that left you breathless.

He lifted you with ease and put you on the table you were working on. Worrying about chemical hazards was the last thing on your mind when you were being kissed by a dark reincarnation of your high school sweetheart.

"Jason-" you drew back on a gasp.

His lips brushed your ear before biting your neck, “Do you know how many nights I dreamed of making you feel an ounce of what I felt?” His words terrified you.

"What will you do to me?" Your voice trembled.

"I don't know..." He sounded distracted as his finger glided over your lab coat, unbuttoning it and pulling it down off you, leaving you in your t-shirt and jeans. You were suddenly cold, feeling bumps along your arms. Jason's haze was heated, and you followed it to your chest, where your nipples pebbled under your bralette. You held your breath as he raised his hand to circle one of your nipples, not saying anything.

"If you were me," Jason drawled, attention back on you, though his fingers continued circling your nipple. You suppressed a whimper desperate to be let out. "What would you do to you?"

"I..." Your voice hitched when his finger brushed the spot you wanted him so desperately.

"What would you do if you've defeated all of your enemies, but one." He asked, tone heavy.

Your heart ached at his words, and you shook you head. "I'm not your enemy, Jay-" you wispered.

Something you said made him freeze, a moment passed before he gave your nipple a brief but harsh pinch. “You don’t get to say my name like that,” he hissed, his other hand tightening on your hair.

Removing his gloves and dropping them to the floor with a soft thud. You watched at his scarred, large hand lowered to the buttons of your jeans, undoing them one by one. The sensation made your body jerk, and you bit your lip to keep from making any sounds.

Jason noticed and brought his lips up to yours, biting down on your bottom lip before saying. "Dont hold back now, baby. You never did before -"

"I've missed you." The confession left your lips in a quick breath.

That made him freeze again. Just like when he did when you called him by his nickname. Carefully, you reached to cup his cheek, your thumb tracing the "J" scar under his eye.

"Stop," he said under his breath.

"Jason," you wimpered, your voice strained. "I missed you so much-"

"Stop." He growled.

With tears in your eyes, you begged. "Please! Jason, I still love-"

He kissed you again, desperate to silence you. He was pretty sure the next words out of your mouth were going to break his conditioning completely. He couldn't pet that happen - not after how far he's come.

His fingers reached your sex, coating themselves in your slick and sliding up to rub your clit. "If you don't shut up for your own good, I'll have to find something else to keep your mouth busy."

The ministration on your sex, the words, and the fact that the love of your life was speaking them to you all sent your mind spiraling. But the sensations he caused in your body overtook any intentions in your mind, and you arched against him, desperately pushing yourself closer to him.

"That's right," he chuckled, his mind back where he deeded it to be. "Give up control, baby."

You were so close.

"Give me my revenge." He laughed, grinning against your ear.

You moaned just as you were nearing your climax.

He withdrew his fingers, ruining your orgasm.

"No!" You protested.

Pleading, your eyes sought his out in the darkness. He wore a wolfish smirk as he reached up and licked his fingers. His eyes were hooded as he glared at you. He didn't say much. Just hummed as he slowly approached you. Frightened, you tried backing away as far as you could. "Dont! Jason, I'll call the cops. I'll tell them -"

"Tell them what?" He pulled you by your hair. It was not a playful tug like he used to do in school, but a harsh grasp that had you gasping. "That the Red Hood fingered you? That he didn't let you finish?" He said in a mocking tone.

You swallowed harshly, not saying anything. This version of Jason was so cruel that you couldn't comprehend it.

"You're not gonna go to the police." He informed you. "You're gonna come to work wearing a skirt tomorrow." He finished before giving you one last kiss.

Before you could come up with anything more to say, he had put on his gloves and helmet, saluted you, and walked out the door.

[batsandbirdbrains]

The one where Dick is secretly Kryptonian

So anyways like imagine a young justice post-season 2 AU fic where everyone’s still all pissy with nightwing bc they can’t get over the fact that he and Kaldur didn’t tell anyone abt Kaldur’s deep cover op to infiltrate the light. Like despite the fact that it’s opsec 101 to not fucking tell a bunch of people abt ur deep cover agent who’s getting all ur intel to literally stop an invasion. Anyway.

Dick is secretly Kryptonian. Like has never told anyone. Has a suppression bracelet that stops him from developing powers like Superman. He’s the first son of Jor-El and Lara, was five years old when Krypton was destroyed, and his pod got trapped in the phantom zone for 20 years before he crash landed on earth, terrified and confused out of his mind because he couldn’t find his baby brother’s pod anywhere.

The Graysons eventually find him, his pod having crashed near a stop for Haley’s Circus. They take him in, raise him as their son, and then they die in Gotham three years later. He’s taken in by Bruce and becomes Robin when he’s 8. He has since seen Superman on newspapers and TV, and he realizes his baby brother grew up without him. He can’t tell him who he really is now, convinced he’ll just be a burden, that he’ll ruin his brother’s happy life with all his bad luck (because everyone around him seems to die, and he’s starting to think maybe he’s a curse).

ANYWAY skip to the end of season 2 and most people are being cold towards Nightwing. He’s distanced himself from them all for a couple months now, isolating himself in a safe house in Blüdhaven. Even Bruce seems to disappointed in the way he handled the invasion, and he can’t stand to see him disappointed.

Nightwing is only on the Watchtower because he was called in for an all hands on deck situation. The mission is over, he’s tired, he’s exhausted, he’s half-starved because he’s surviving off money from odd jobs that pay under the table and a crappy job at a dive bar, and he’s hiding in the back of a meeting room to wait for the debrief to start. He can hear others around him muttering about him, and he tries to ignore them, focusing on watching the stars outside the window.

And now cue Supergirl entering. She’s been operating with Superman pretty much the whole time, her pod having been delayed in the phantom zone not nearly as long as Dick’s was so she actually got to grow up somewhat the same age as Superman. Dick has never been in the same room as Kara, not since they were both children on Krypton.

And Kara instantly zones in on him, and even behind the mask, she knows exactly who he is. She whispers his Kryptonian name at first, not believing it’s really him. (What’s his Kryptonian name exactly? No idea. Kod-El [sticks with the K names, kinda looks like Kody] or maybe Rah-El [it’s how the Graysons got the name Richard?] idk)

And Nightwing just freezes. He doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know how to react. He tried to pretend it’s not happening, but Kara is relentless and rushes to him and holds his face in her hands and asks a million questions about how he’s here and where he’s been and how is he still so young, what happened?

And something inside Dick just snaps. Because all of the grief and loneliness and fear just overflows in him, and he breaks down while Kara holds him and whispers to him that everything is okay, but nothing is okay and everything is wrong and no one was ever supposed to know and now everyone will just be so much more angry with him.

He’s afraid no one will trust him now. That his friends won’t look at him the same. That Kal will hate him for never telling him the truth about being his brother. That Bruce won’t want him anymore, won’t want an alien for a son. That he’ll lose everyone and everything all over again.

Idk I just like when Dick falls apart under all the pressure and everyone realizes they need to help him get out back together again. And also that it’s mostly all their fault he fell apart in the first place because Dick has never done anything wrong in his life ever.

[ichorai]

chiropterology — revenge.

drabble synopsis ; please wear a lab coat (or any clothes, for that matter) in the laboratory. warnings ; none!

series masterlist.

For the past week and a half, Tim and Damian have been at each other’s throats. Metaphorically speaking, of course, but you wouldn’t at all be surprised if it came to that point.

Their little revenge war started off small; Tim’s ruined coffee mug, and Damian’s bed full of glitter. But it then escalated into Tim’s entire wardrobe disappearing into thin air and lasers (non-lethal) installed in Damian’s room. 

Having had enough, Tim, hair permanently stained a ridiculously loud shade of joker-green, stormed into your lab. He was so frustrated that he didn’t even attempt cracking a joke at the soot on your face that gave you a very mad scientist-esque look.

“Woah!” you exclaimed, shifting your goggles up onto your head so you could scrutinize him properly. “First of all, that hair color really doesn’t suit you. Second, where are your clothes? Put on a lab coat, you can’t be in your undies here… who knows what kinds of chemicals and sharp objects are lying around.” 

Tim shrugged on one of the lab coats hanging by the door, pacing back and forth across your lab like a caged tiger. “I can’t stand it anymore, I just can’t! I need you to make something for me.” As if suddenly remembering his manners, Tim momentarily halted and added on, “Please.”

“Tim, I’m still working on the sword you asked me to make, remember? You wanna just tell me what’s going on instead?”

“See this?” Tim gestured at his vibrant hair. “Damian did this!”

“Damian? My sweet, precious boy who would do no wrong?” you asked, faking innocence. At Tim’s daggered glare, you placated, “Alright, I get it. You want me to help you get revenge. Well, I’m sorry hon, I’m not getting on Damian’s bad side, thank you very much.” When you cast a glance at Tim’s drooped shoulders, you softened with sympathy. These boys really were going to be the death of you. “Fine. I’ll talk to him. But both of you are going to apologize to each other, do you understand?”

“Him first,” Tim muttered. He shoved his hands into the pockets of the lab coat, about to step back out. “Can I borrow this? I kinda don’t have any other clothes right now.”

“Be my guest,” you replied. “And Tim?”

“Hm?”

“There’s a tube of extra strong superglue in my study, third drawer down. I won’t look for it if it goes missing, but do not tell Damian I told you or I will use you as a guinea pig for my most dangerous experiments.”

Tim, partially terrified and partially elated, nodded solemnly. “Thanks, mom.”

(Their little prank war ended two days later. Their clothes, room, and hair were both a little worse for the wear but at least they were still relatively unharmed. Both agreed to stop thanks to Bruce threatening to tell Alfred on them, much to your amusement.)

[luv-lock]

Heya! I wanted to ask you, and sorry if you've answered this already, but who do you think has the most "yandere potential" in batfamily?

Jason is my favourite and I know he has had questionable morals in the comics, but I always got questionable "vibes" from Richard's personality, (unlike with Jason, whose actions were questionable, but his personality was always "raw" and honest).

I don't know how else to explain it, I always saw Dick as pretty manipulative, even to his friends, I see him as yandere that gets his target by thorough planning and manipulation. And him being in control, how well in-control he is as a leader or just as a person, always so sure of himself and his goals/plans.

Him hiding how unhinged he is under smiles and sweet talks, showing through cracks of his mask unless he knows what you're doing 24/7 and you follow his commands. Sorry I ranted so long lol, also just wanted to add that I love your writing and how unapologetically honest you are and don't take shit 🩶.

Bruce is 100% the most Yandere-like out of all the Batboys. He’s already obsessive, paranoid, and emotionally unstable beneath that cold exterior. The man built an entire network of surveillance, spies on everyone he cares about, and has literal contingency plans to take them down if necessary. If that’s not the groundwork for an unhinged, possessive lover, I don’t know what is. Let’s break it down:

1. Obsession & Control

Bruce doesn’t just love—he possesses. His entire personality is built around keeping people close while simultaneously pushing them away. He monitors his loved ones obsessively (Batfamily, Justice League, hell, even civilians like Gordon), always needing to be in control. If he were in love, that same obsessive nature would apply tenfold. His partner wouldn’t be able to make a move without him knowing. Not out of malice, but because Bruce has to know—his paranoia won’t let him rest otherwise.

2. Paranoia & Fear of Loss

Bruce’s entire existence is defined by loss—his parents, Jason, Alfred, and even when people don’t die, he still feels like he’s losing them (Dick leaving, Tim being independent, Damian’s constant rebellion). He’s terrified of losing the people he loves, which makes him controlling and emotionally closed off. In a relationship, this would spiral into a toxic, possessive dynamic where he justifies his actions as protection. If his partner even looked at someone else the wrong way, Bruce would be in full-on silent threat mode, already digging up dirt on them just in case.

3. The Double Life Factor

A normal Yandere kills people who threaten their relationship. Bruce? He’d break them mentally, ruin their lives, and make it so they disappear without a trace. He’s not messy about it. He’s calculated. If someone gets too close to his partner, they’ll suddenly get arrested for crimes they don’t remember committing, or their business will collapse overnight. His partner might not even realize he’s doing it.

4. Emotional Repression = Explosive Outbursts

Bruce bottles everything up until he snaps. When he does, it’s ugly. Think of how he handled Jason’s death—spiraling into self-destruction, cutting everyone off, becoming even colder. Now imagine if it was his partner “betraying” him or trying to leave. He wouldn’t physically hurt them, but he’d make damn sure they never leave Gotham. He’d pull every card—guilt, manipulation, even outright deception—just to keep them by his side.

5. The Ideal Partner Would Be Someone 'Dependent' on Him

Bruce is drawn to people who need him (see: Dick as a child, Jason as a troubled kid, even Selina, who constantly dances on the edge of needing his help but never quite commits). A partner who relies on him would fuel his Yandere tendencies because it justifies his need to control and “protect.” If his lover ever tried to leave, he’d see it as them endangering themselves, giving him all the reason he needs to intervene.

The Others?

Dick: Too emotionally mature. He’s intense in his love, but he ultimately wants people to be happy, even if it’s not with him. He’d be more of a hurt-but-let-go type.

Jason: Has the possessiveness and violent streak, but not the control aspect. He’d be more of a revenge-driven ex than a Yandere.

Damian: Could develop into a Yandere in his adulthood, but he lacks the emotional depth for it right now. He’s possessive but doesn’t have Bruce’s obsessive nature yet.

Bruce is the perfect Yandere. He’s got the obsession, the paranoia, the control issues, and the power to make sure his love is never taken away. And the worst part? He’d never see himself as the villain. To him, it’s just necessary.

Also thanks darling. I really appreciate you 🩵✨

[frownyalfred]

BVS Clark FIGHTING FOR HIS FUCKING LIFE and sensing himself slipping and LOSING and OH GgOD He's gonna DIE-

Meanwhile Bruce is :D :D in his head with the little actual theme song in his head nananananananana BATMAN because he's a GENIUS this is working EXACTLY AS PLANNED yes YES BRUCE

Completely different genres. Golden comedy. Like, I love this bastard, omce he decided that, yeah, killing this once makes sense, he's like, putting that behind him and enjoying the situation. If I was Clark though, I would be perpetually terrified. Like, who cares he didnt actually go through with the kill, up until that point, to his perspective, THAT MAN WAS GLEEFUL ABOUR MURDER. HIS, SPECIFICALLY.

If you back out enough of the BVS doom and gloom, all Bruce did was a little workout montage, monologue to Alfred dramatically in the Manor ruins about being a hunter from a long line of Wayne hunters, set up an ELABORATE beacon and series of Superman-specific traps, beat the ever loving shit out of Clark, break a sink over his head, choke him out, throw him off a balcony, lecture him about not being a man, taunt him about being (deservedly) afraid of dying via Kryptonite spear, slice a little into his cheek just to be dramatic, and then have a full-on panic attack when he realized Clark was in fact a man with a mom who he then went to save as .05% of the apology he was going to spend the next two movies or so making.

King shit truly 👑

[graveyardgremlins]

WIP ALERT WIP ALERT

What makes death so special that everyone seems so scared to talk about it? It is not as if, in this universe, it’s the end of the line. Not really. If anything, it felt more like the beginning of something.

Now, routine feels like the end of it all. Even when you’re a vigilante and everyday is a surprise, it still feels like slowly withering away. Like, if you stop moving you’re going to start rotting on the spot. But for some reason, people love routine and hate death.

Dick, for example, constantly looks terrified. It’s not obvious, as no feeling in our faces is ever obvious, but I can tell it’s there. He once said, mournfully, that we would bury Bruce like he is now, with jet black hair. The thought upset him, but I still don’t understand why. It’s not as if Bruce cares. Sometimes it feels like he is trying to speed up the process.

And sure, it would suck not to be able to see someone you care about ever again. But if Dick truly is so scared of missing Bruce, he can go knocking on Constantine’s door — or Zatanna’s, or Madame Xanadu’s, or Doctor Fate’s, or Jason Blood’s, or… you get my point — and ask for a seance. Besides, it’s not as if you can say the guy wasted his life. No one on this Earth has more accomplishments under his belt than Batman himself.

So why the long face?

Like, sure I get why they look weird every time I bring up my past death. I was a kid and all that. But they seriously need to stop looking at me like I’m planning to kill myself everytime I bring up my future death. I’m not planning to die any time soon, but what if I do? Are they going to lose their shit again?

I mean, Tim literally cloned his best friend as a manner to bring him back from the dead because he couldn’t cope with him being gone. Not to say I’m terribly worried about the Imposter missing me so much as to clone me, but still. What if I die? Are they going to try to bring me back? Because I don’t think I want that.

Death was easy, you know? It was awful up until the point where it wasn’t. I don’t remember much, but I remember being warm and embraced. And then someone dragged me back screaming and kicking. Then I woke up boiling alive, with the skin falling off my bones in the middle of the Assassin’s League Headquarters.

I’m not particularly excited about being boiled alive again.

No one in this family knows how to let go and Bruce is the worst one. I used to be so mad that his grief wasn’t enough to make him kill the Joker. I wanted him to prove that he loved me like he said he did. But I was a recently deceased and resurrected teenager. I firmly believe that the only reason Jesus reacted better to being murdered is because he was already thirty three. Now, as an adult, I’m less mad.

Bruce deals with grief like this: he doesn’t. He lets it eat him away. I think he likes it, the feeling of rotting from the inside out. Maybe that’s why he likes routine too. I think he has a lot of love inside of him that, instead of showing it, he reschedules it. Like he thinks “tomorrow I’ll show it” and then never does. And when I died, maybe he didn’t have anywhere to put that love anymore. There wouldn’t be any more “tomorrows.” So he just rotted.

It’s why I try not to be jealous about how endlessly patient and affectionate he is with Damian. Or how careful he is with Tim. Or how much interest he takes in everything Duke does. Or how he always listens when Steph talks. Or how he always comes when Cass calls him. At least, I served to teach him a lesson. 

So, yeah, when I got an invitation to a Ghost Ball, I didn’t tell anyone. Because they don’t understand why I linger in the cemetery. They don’t understand why I kill, when they believe I should be the first one to be against death. They don’t understand why I keep talking about dying over and over and over. They just don’t get it.

Also, they would totally ruin this moment for me. I’m sure of it.

How many times do you get invited to a ball? Not those shitass galas the Waynes always go to. A real authentic 1800’s ball. With the lettering cursive invitation, sprayed with some kind of perfume, sealed with a gold wax coat of arms. Not only that! To what was an official celebration to the Ghost King’s 21th birthday.

I didn’t even know there was a Ghost King!

Sure, it’s probably a trap. This kind of thing is always a trap. But they had addressed the invitation to “The Red Knight of Gotham, Avenger of the Damned, Cursebreaker, Three Times Born, Wielder of the All-Blades, the Darkest Star” and, if I am to be honest, flattery will get you everywhere with me.

I’m not entirely sure what the “Darkest Star” was in reference to, but it’s the least of my concern. The theme of the ball was Black, White and Neon Green, which completely fucks up my aesthetic. The last time I wore green I was a Robin and I’m particularly inclined to never wear it again. I’m also not wearing a tuxedo. Maybe a black suit over the armor instead of the usual jacket and a neon green handkerchief.

Now the problem is getting fitted for a suit like that. Every rich motherfucker knows that just sending your measurements to a tailor that never met you in person before is the recipe for a disaster. And sure as hell there is not a single tailor in the Crime Alley. Not that I know of. And there is no way in hell, or heaven or wherever the flying fuck the Infinity Realms were, I’m showing up to a real ball looking anything short of dreamy.

So, I did the reasonable thing and texted Alfred.

If you could come by the Manor, Master Jason, I will see what can be done. He texted back.

There is a theory going around the midst of superheroes that says that the one thing all of the bats have in common is how stubborn we are. It’s true, but I don’t think we learned that from Bruce. I’m pretty sure that’s just the Pennyworth in all of us. That man clearly only still works as a butler at 65 and calls us all “master”, “miss”, “mister” and “ma’am” out of pure stubbornness. I have no evidence of this, but I’m working on the theory that someone at some point betted that he would crack eventually, which is why he hasn’t. That I know of.

So, I showed up at the Manor like he asked me to.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Tim asked.

“I live here,” I answered.

“No, you don’t.”

“Unless someone touched my room, which I doubt, then yes, I do.”

“When was the last time you were here?”

“Last week. I dropped by to move all your furniture 1 inch to the left counterclockwise.”

“I knew it! I knew someone was touching my stuff! Steph said I was crazy!”

“You are, but I touched your stuff. Like all of it. Including your Monster collection. You should really clean that, by the way. It’s disgusting.”

“Fuck you.”

Someone cleaned their throat and we both turned around to see Alfred standing in the hallway, looking less than impressed. I’m pretty sure we learned that from him too.

“Sorry, Alfred,” Tim said.

Alfred sighed and then turned his frown towards me.

“What? I didn’t curse.”

He raised one pointed eyebrow and that’s all it took.

“Sorry for touching your stuff, Timberlake,” I said and turned to Alfred again. “Happy?”

“I suppose that will suffice.”

“Yeah, fine,” Tim agreed and moved out of the way to let me in. “Just never do it again.”

“Oh, I’m definitely doing it again.”

“Why?!”

“Dick told me to stop whining and start getting on that, and I quote, ‘big brother grind’, so you and the Demon brat are going to have to endure it.”

“Why not Duke?”

“He is obviously my favorite.”

Tim just groaned and followed us to one of the upstairs closet.

“What are we doing anyway?”

“We are doing nothing. You weren’t invited.”

“Master Jason is getting fitted for a new suit,” Alfred said, ignoring me.

“Why?” Tim asked.

“What are you? A Toddler? Why do you think?”

“Well, you sure as hell aren’t going to the galas—”

“Damn right, I won’t.”

“And you’re definitely not going on a date—”

“Wait, why?”

“Because.”

I turned around to fully face him. “What do you mean ‘because’?”

“Just because,” Tim made a vague gesture with his hand. “You know.”

“No. As a matter of fact, I don’t know.”

“You know,” He gestured again. “Because.”

“Because what?”

“You’re chronically single.”

“What?!”

Tim threw himself on one of the sofas that was turned towards the closet and sank into it. “Chronically single. Chronically, meaning in a persistent and recurring—”

“I know what chronically single means!”

“Then you know.”

“I’m not chronically single!”

“How long ago was your last relationship and how long did it last?”

“That does not mean I’m chronically single! I get bitches all the time!”

“Perhaps, Master Jason, refraining from referring to your partners in a demeaning manner might be the first step to improving your romantic aptitudes.”

“I don’t– I’m not– Ugh!”

“Try this suit on. I think it will be the closest to your current measurements.”

I took the suit from his hand and closed the closet door behind me.

“So,” Tim said, “If you’re not going to a gala, you’re not going to a date, then where are you going?”

“None of your business.”

“It’s not a birthday, because I’m pretty sure none of your friends is an Aquarius–”

He kept talking and I tuned him out. The pants were a bit too tight around the knees, so they would have to fix that, and the jacket sleeves were a little too short. Besides that, I liked the red lining inside, as well as the flower pattern that almost disappeared into the black. It wasn’t very on the theme, and I would risk looking a bit christmassy, but it would be worth it. I did need a neon green handkerchief, though.

“It can’t be Two-Face, because he is still in Arkham and also not your usual target. Black Mask has been quiet, so maybe him,” Tim was, somehow, still talking.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, opening the closet door to let Alfred take a look.

“People you might be planning to make a move against in a place where a suit might be necessary.”

“Maybe I just want a suit, ever thought of that?”

“You’re fitting it over armor,” Tim pointed out.

“Touché.”

“Tt, it’s too tight around your knees,” Alfred commented.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Oh, Alfred? Do you by any chance have a neon green handkerchief?”

Alfred made a face. “I do not own any monstrosity of that sort, Master Jason. Why do you ask?”

“Because the theme is Black, White and Neon Green.”

“Wait, you’re actually crashing a party?”

Alfred sighed and made another disgusted face. “In that case… This suit won’t do.”

“Sorry, Alfred. I didn’t write the dress code.”

“Of course not, Master Jason. I would expect that you would have a better sense for fashion than that.”

“And for your information, I’m not crashing a party. I was invited. Not that you know what that’s like, Stalker.”

“Who would invite you to anything?!”

“Not telling.”

“C’mon!”

“Perhaps the Zegna will look less… clown-like with a neon green handkerchief than the Armani,” Alfred said, mostly to himself.

“Did I hear, Armani?” Selina’s honey-dripping voice came from the corridor, and she poked her head inside the room. “What are you boys doing hiding here?”

“I’m getting fitted for a suit.”

“He is going to a party and I’m trying to figure out which one,” Tim answered at the same time as me.

“Oh! That sounds fun! Do you need help, Alfred?” She asked and slid into the sofa next to Tim.

“I’m afraid I am at a loss, Miss Kyle. The theme of the evening is Black, White and, ugh, Neon Green.”

She made a face very much like Alfred’s own. “Where are you going, Kit Kat? The Riddler’s birthday isn’t until July.”

“Not telling you, either.”

She pouted and pulled Tim’s face near her own, he understood what she was doing a minute later and pouted too. “Please?” They said, like children.

“Nope. Not happening.”

Selina shrugged it off, not particularly bothered, but Tim seemed to still be fixated on the issue. 

“Have you tried that Slim-fit Hugo Boss brown suit, Alfred? I think it will make him look distinguished amongst the neon green aberration,” she said.

“Is it a winter party of some kind?” Tim asked.

“Not giving you any tips, Timmy.”

“Actually, Master Jason, that could help us find a better suit.”

I sighed. “I don’t think it is specifically a winter party. I think it's just a coincidence.”

“So it is a celebration of some kind!”

“I’m. Not. Telling. You.”

“No need. I will find out eventually.”

Alfred brought out the Hugo Boss brown suit and held it up for Selina to see. 

“I think it will clash, Miss Kyle,” he said.

“I think you’re right, Alfred,” She tapped one manicured finger to her lips. “This party is not of someone we know. Is it, Kit Kat?”

I shrugged.

“Why do you say that, Selina?” Tim asked.

“Motherly instincts.”

The door behind them opened again, this time to reveal a mildly disgruntled looking Bruce. His hair was a mess and he was wearing a sweater and sweatpants. He was definitely sick.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“Are you sick, old man?”

He sniffed. “Seasonal allergies.”

“Jason is getting fitted for a suit,” Selina answered.

“Oh?”

“And I’m trying to find out why.”

“Oh.”

“You guys are nosy,” I said.

Alfred brought out another slim-fit suit and both Selina and Bruce made a face. “Yes, I imagined so,” Alfred said, disappointed.

“What kind of party is it, chum?”

“Not telling.”

“The theme is Black, White and Neon Green,” Selina said, and both her, Alfred and Bruce grimaced.

“Jason, please tell me you’re not going to the Riddler’s birthday party.”

“Of course, he isn’t, silly. The Riddler’s birthday is July 21st.”

“Oh! Should I send a present?”

“It would be very polite,” Alfred said and Selina agreed.

“If this party is of someone we don’t know then it must be someone you met recently or a very long time ago. But if it was from someone you used to know, you probably wouldn’t be using an expensive suit, and if it was someone new we would have heard of it already,” Tim said.

“What makes you think it is someone we don’t know?” Bruce asked.

Selina raised her hand with a cheeky smile. “If we knew them already, little Kit Kat wouldn’t be so worried about imprrrressing them. We would have embarrassed him already.”

“I’m not worried about impressing anyone.”

“You’re getting fitted for a suit,” she pointed out.

“Yes, because I outgrew all my other suits and I can’t wear them with the armor. It’s not as if I’m buying a new one,” I rolled my eyes.

“If you’re wearing your armor are you worried about being attacked?” Bruce asked.

“Is it a mission then?” Tim asked. “Otherwise, why would you be going to a place where you might be attacked?”

“Good point, champ.”

“I’m not answering any of those questions.”

Bruce pondered for a second. “Have you tried the gray Kiton wool suit? It might null a bit of the neon green.”

“Ooh. Good idea, love.”

“Let’s see if you’re correct, Master Bruce.”

“I’m texting Dick to see if he knows anything.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Father, have you seen Alfred Jr?” Damian’s voice rang from the corridor.

“Not really, Dami.”

“He is probably in that warm spot in the library where the sun hits just right,” Selina said and stretched as if she could feel the warmth from here.

“Thank you, miss Kyle,” Damian poked his head inside. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re welcome, Damian.”

“I live here.”

“Do you?” Bruce asked.

“Do you?” Damian asked, fully walking into the room.

You see? This is why I can’t tell them anything about this ball. Or else they will want to come with, they are nosy like that, I’d have to explain to every cute person I meet why I brought my entire family with me when the invitation didn’t even have ‘plus one’ on it.

Jesus, maybe Selina was right.

“Master Jason is getting fitted for a new suit, Master Damian,” Alfred said and held the gray wool suit.

“Yeah, that doesn’t do it either,” Selina said.

“What is wrong with the suit?”

“The theme is Black, White and Neon Green.” Everyone grimaced at that. They really needed to stop repeating the same thing over and over.

“What is the occasion?”

“Kit Kat won’t tell us.”

“Nope.”

“I’ve talked to Dick!” Tim announced. “He has no idea who could be, but his best guest is someone Jason met with the Outlaws! So I’m going to text Cass, so she can text Artemis and see if she was invited to anything.”

Damian sat on the opposite arm of the sofa and pondered.

“How much have you narrowed it down?”

“Someone we don’t know, someone dangerous, possibly on a mission, not a winter party,” Bruce said.

“Birthday?”

“No gift.”

“Maybe it’s someone I don’t know enough to buy a gift to,” I said, just to throw them off.

The three of them narrowed their eyes at me.

“Yup, talked to Artemis. She doesn’t know anything,” Tim said. “Also Dick is calling.”

He put it on speaker so everyone could suffer together.

“Hey, guys!”

“Hey, chum.”

“Hello.”

“Hey, birdie.”

“Sup?”

“Jesus Christ,” I rubbed my temples. I could feel a migraine coming up.

“Jason! The man, the myth, the legend! Will you tell your big bro where exactly you’re going? I promise to keep it a secret.”

“Not even on your deathbed.”

Alfred brought out another suit. It was also gray and it still did not match neon green.

“C’mon, Little Wing! Don’t be like that! It can be that bad for us to know.”

“It’s out of principle.”

“That reminds me,” Tim said. “Dick, go screw yourself.”

Alfred made a face at that, but didn’t comment anything.

“Wait, why? What did I do?”

“Why did you tell Jason to ‘act like a big brother’? He touched all of my stuff!”

“I’m sure he didn’t touch all of it.”

“Oh, I didn’t look under the bed, but besides that? It will be very funny when you start finding the glitter.”

“What?!”

“Ah, is that why Jon found a lot of superboy merch I did not buy in my closet?” Damian asked. “Well, I must say that is not a good prank. I’m not embarrassed to say I’m my best friend’s biggest fan. Though, he did cry.”

“You say that now, because you haven’t found the bees.”

“What bees?”

I simply smiled. This wouldn’t work on most of my siblings, but Damian was small enough to be fooled and once he believed it, the others would follow.

“I swear to God, Jason. If I find glitter on my clothes I’m putting a skunk inside your house,” Tim said.

There was also no glitter, but now he would check everything first. Forever.

“Why would you do that to a poor innocent animal?” I said, to be contrary.

“Yeah, Tim. Leave the animals alone! It’s not their fault Little Wing started a prank war.”

“Yes, Drake. I’m disappointed you’d even think about this.”

Alfred brought out a deep blue suit. Selina sighed and slumped down the sofa and Bruce shook his head.

“Hey, Dick,” I asked. “Do you have any suits that might fit me and that will look good with neon green?”

“Why do you ask? Don’t tell me Poison Ivy is your plus one.”

“Alright, I won’t.”

“Poison Ivy is light green, not neon,” Tim said.

“And Ivy is too old for you,” Bruce said, pointedly. I rolled my eyes.

“I don’t think I’d have anything either way.”

There was a moment of silence while everyone considered, perhaps the color neon green or perhaps Poison Ivy.

“I figured it out!” Damian shouted suddenly. Selina flinched from the noise, and he apologized quickly. “Sorry. But I have figured it out.”

“What?” Everyone asked. I wasn’t particularly worried, it’s very hard for the little brat to have known about a King I wasn’t even aware of. Though, maybe Ra’s did know it before me.

“Regular-fit Dark Grey Virgin Wool Serge from Hugo Boss,” Damian said profoundly.

“What?” Tim asked.

“The suit that will go with neon green.”

Alfred, Selina and Bruce thought it out. “Yes, I believe that might work, Master Damian.”

“Good job, son,” Bruce said, making my insides twist painfully.

Selina simply raised her hand over Tim’s head so Damian could high five her.

“That still doesn’t answer where he is going!”

“Who would do a Neon Green party? Besides the Riddler, his birthday isn’t until July.”

“How do you even– No, actually, I don’t want to know. Thanks for the help, Demon Brat.”

“You’re welcome. Now tell us where you’re going.”

Fair enough. “To a birthday party,”

“Goddammit! It was the first thing I crossed off!”

“Of whom?”

“None of your business, old man.”

“C’mon, tell us Little Wing.”

“What are we trying to find out?” Duke asked, walking into the room. “And why is everyone here?”

“Jason is going to a birthday party and he won’t tell us who's is jt,” Tim said.

“Oh?”

“And I’m getting a suit fitted.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, though. I’ll tell you whose birthday it is later.”

“Hey!”

“Wait, why?”

“Yes, why him?”

“Oh, Duke is my favorite.”

Duke smiled innocently at all the people in the room and did a little twirl.

“That’s not fair!”

“Hey, this is your fault. You told me to be an older sibling.”

“Older siblings don’t pick favorites!”

“Of course they do. Damian is your favorite, I’m Cass’ favorite, Duke is my favorite, and Tim is no one’s favorite.”

“Screw you!”

“Don’t worry. When Bruce adopts another one you can be their favorite.”

“I’m not adopting anyone.”

Everyone in the room raised an eyebrow at that — yet another thing they got from Alfred — and Selina patted his hand. “Whatever you say, love.”

Alfred fitted the suit perfectly, to the point where that one guy on twitter that talks about male clothing would applaud. And he did find a neon green handkerchief, though he would only buy it if I promised to burn it afterwards, which I swiftly agreed to. I considered bringing a present, but something I learned from the filthy rich is that it’s always better to look like an asshole rather than a fool.

And so the suit saga ends and the ball saga begins.

One would think that an interdimensional being called the Ghost King would think of better ways to direct his guests towards his party than a set of coordinates and another number, which I quickly realized to be the hour in military time. Of course, one would be wrong. So me, my bike, my beautiful suit and my weapons directed ourselves to the middle of bumfuck nowhere, literally in the middle of Nevada's desert.

God, I am going to arrive at this party covered in sand.

[horsechestnut]

I think my ideal Steph, Cass, and Tim dynamic would be that they're all best friends, but they can not all hang out together. Like, if you ask any one of them who their best friend is they genuinely will not be able to pick between the other two, but all three of them together triggers each of their insecurities in the worst way and always leads to a fight.

Like, Steph and Cass are so affectionate with each other, and constantly flirting and Tim assumes their teasing, but what if they're not, and oh god is he third wheeling on a date between his ex-girlfriend and his sister? They don't actually want him here, they invited him to be nice and he was to oblivious to realize it wasn't genuine. He should leave. But before he can come up with a believable excuse they've changed topics and... hang on, did Steph just say her dad threw a book at her once? Because so much of Steph and Cass's relationship is built on an understanding that they won't make a big deal when they mention something messed up about their past that they just say stuff like that, but Tim does not have that same understanding. So Tim hears that and instead of rolling with it, it's "Steph you can't just say that like it's not a big deal... why is Cass laughing? You can't laugh at that it's fucked up! I don't care that it was a long time ago!" And now Cass is confused and Steph is angry and Tim feels like shit for probably ruining what they wanted to be a date and frustrated that he's being treated like he's overreacting despite being the only one with a normal reaction to child abuse. Mostly he's terrified that he screwed this whole thing up somehow and neither of them is going to want to hang out with him again.

Meanwhile Steph and Tim are so intrinsically linked to each other. They've shared things they will never share with anyone else, they were each others first love. And Cass understands that, she does, but it's hard sometimes seeing how easy they are with each other. The way Steph knows Tim's upset without having to read his body langue the way Cass does or Tim can predict exactly how late Steph will be to any given situation. More than that though, what truly makes her want to hide away from them, is the history they both had but didn't share. The sly comments about Tim looking like a character Cass has never heard of or jokes that make no sense but send Steph into laughing fits. The kind that when she asks are brushed off with "it was an old meme" or "just a show from when we were kids". The reminders that she isn't normal, she can never really be like them. If she doesn't ask most of the time it doesn't occur to them to explain, it seems so obvious to them. They start doing a synchronized dance from some movie that came out when they were in middle school and Cass slips away into the shadows. Later she gets a string of concerned text that slowly turn angry when she doesn't answer. Cass never tells them what was wrong.

And it's hard for Steph to look at Cass and Tim and not feel jealous, because more than just being friends, they're siblings. They are full members of the club, Bruce's children, let into the fold in a way she never can be. She doesn't even want to be anymore if she's being honest, but it still stings. They'll casually mention family dinner or reference inside jokes from the last Wayne charity whatever and Steph will feel the growing desire in her chest that she can not, under any circumstances, let anyone see. The desire that has caused her so much pain, she will not give it control over her again. And Cass calls Tim Robin sometimes, and he calls Cass Batgirl in return, and Steph has to bite back the urge to scream at them that she was Robin too! She is also a Batgirl! But it doesn't matter because she wasn't Cass's Robin or Tim's Batgirl, and it drives her insane that they're romanticizing that time, because don't they remember how much of an asshole Bruce was back then? And now Tim is mad at her for bring up the past as if they're not the ones who started it, and Cass is assuring her that Bruce has changed, and maybe he has, but it's to fucking late! He already ruined any chance of Steph every feeling fully comfortable with her place in their lives. So she storms off, fuming, leaving a baffled Tim and Cass to go enjoy their stupid family dinner.

So yeah, they are best friends. They all love each other more than they know how to say, and trust each other more than anyone else in the world. But they can never all hang out together. That only ever ends in disaster.

[on-leatheredwings]

What characters from DC canon do you think would make the most terrifying yanderes?

honestly theres so many ppl to choose from LOL

Scariest brute strength wise:

Superman, of course: You can kick and punch all you want - you won't get anywhere with that. Or imagine him flying miles into the air and threatening (softly) to drop you unless you calm down. He really will do it, even if he saves you five seconds later. What's scariest is knowing that even if you ask for help, no one can save you. He's fucking Superman.

Supergirl: same as Superman, but I think she has a petulant edge that's really awful. You can't reason with her if she's already made up her mind. Even if we're talking about Adult!SG, it's like you're talking to a child, holy fuck

Flash: .............something very terrifying of a man who can whisk you away before you can blink. If you ran away, he'd of course let you get a head start, just for kicks. Then he collects you, whether you're halfway across the world or just down the street. He'd run so fast the air leaves your lungs and by the time you've come to, you're back home... Yikes. I think he'd give you a lot of vertigo and disorientation to keep your mind addled.

Dr. Fate, Constantine, Zatanna: christ. Really, any magic user can go in this slot. I think the depths of their powers are just scary to even think about. Imagine arguing with them and getting kicked into another dimension, left to lose your sanity for what feels like years, but was perhaps just 10 minutes in regular time. Sure, they would bend reality for you, but they also would bend it just to keep you in line.

Scariest ruining-your-mental-health-wise:

Lex Luthor: oh god he's just the worst. He genuinely believes he owns you, unlike most of the other DC yans that at least try to pretend you have human rights. Him being a yandere probably consists of him offering you a place in his home. If refused, you won't be able to enjoy anything ever again. You'll be followed. You won't get new work anywhere. If you're famous, the tabloids are all against you and ruining your reputation because everyone is in Lex's pockets. He'd be a more spiteful Bruce Wayne, essentially.

Batman: I can't even elaborate like you already know. LMAO

The Question: i'm sorry the amount of paranoia this man would give me specifically. I grew up around paranoid people and they do irreversible psychic damage LOL. He'll be gaslighting you AND himself into believing into conspiracies at the same time.

Scarecrow: Fear gas. Just... fear gas. :)

if anyone wants to add in replies pls do kghdksk this is more like my nightmare yandere rotation

[richincolor]

And we're back! The Rich in Color team is looking forward to spending another year with you reading and reviewing books. Our first post this year is to catch up with all of the January releases on our radar:

Breath of the Dragon (Breathmarked, #1) by Shannon Lee & Fonda Lee Wednesday Books

he first novel in a sweeping YA fantasy duology based on characters and teachings created by Bruce Lee!

Sixteen-year-old Jun dreams of proving his worth as a warrior in the elite Guardian’s Tournament, held every six years to entrust the magical Scroll of Earth to a new protector. Eager to prove his skills, Jun hopes that a win will restore his father’s honor—righting a horrible mistake that caused their banishment from his home, mother, and twin brother.

But Jun’s father strictly forbids him from participating. There is no future in honing his skills as a warrior, especially considering Jun is not breathmarked, born with a patch of dragon scales and blessed with special abilities like his twin. Determined to be the next Guardian, Jun stows away in the wagon of Chang and his daughter, Ren, performers on their way to the capital where the tournament will take place.

As Jun competes, he quickly realizes he may be fighting for not just a better life, but the fate of the country itself.

Reign of the Talon (Talons #3) by Sophie Kim Entangled: Teen

How do you kill a prophecy?

The Prophecy has arrived…and with her, war.

A prisoner caged within the walls of her own mind, the once-fierce assassin known as Shin Lina can do nothing but watch as a tide of blood and chaos sweeps across the Three Kingdoms. After all, Lina is the one who unleashed the malevolent Prophecy upon her world.

So many secrets. So many lies. And it’s all her fault.

Yet Haneul Rui—the immortal Dokkaebi Emperor who stole her heart—refuses to surrender. He alone leads the armies against the dangerous, serpentine Imugi. He alone wields his scorching fire atop blood-soaked battlefields, and he alone rallies his soldiers against a terrifying future of death and destruction.

Now the red thread of fate ties them all together in love and hatred—Rui, Lina, and the merciless Prophecy herself. And the more Lina fights against her destiny, the tighter the thread becomes. For they are bound in both life and death; to wound one is to wound them all. To kill the Child of Venom is to kill them all.

And soon, not even the wrathful gods themselves can stop their inevitable ruin.

The Mirror World (The Upper World, #2) by Femi Fadugba HarperTeen

The explosive sequel to the genre-bending, time-bending YA debut The Upper World —a fast-paced, cinematic thrill ride perfect for fans of Neal Shusterman, Marie Lu, and Jason Reynolds. Eighteen-year-old Rhia is far from home in the hallowed halls of Oxford University. Struggling to find herself as a freshman, Rhia uncovers a disturbing link between the secret society recruiting her and her recent apocalyptic visions in the Upper World. But as the doomsday clock ticks louder and her worst nightmares seem destined to come true, Rhia must finally Who she is Where she belongs And if telling the truth can save her soul …And the world.

Togetha (Pritty, #2) by Keith F. Miller Jr. HarperCollins

Perfect for fans of Angie Thomas and Jason Reynolds, this highly anticipated sequel to Lambda Literary Award finalist Pritty finds Jay and Leroy togetha again as they fight to save not only their home but themselves from the powerful Bainbridge family's treacherous endgame to retake Savannah for themselves, no matter the cost.

After finally reuniting, Jay and Leroy have never been in more danger. Caught in the crosshairs of the affluent Bainbridge family, who they've learned is determined to reshape Savannah in their own image, the duo has only just survived a series of near-death experiences before reaching the safety of the Black Diamonds. But the BDs' ability to protect the Black neighborhoods of their city is slipping....

Missing the key piece of evidence that could have broken the Bainbridges' hold over Savannah, everyone is scrambling for options. But when one of their own is kidnapped, Jay and Leroy realize they can't rely on anyone but themselves to save them. Recruiting old friends, former enemies, and their most risky ally, Jay's once-upon-a-time crush, Will, they set out to do the impossible: find the evidence they lost in order to finally expose the Bainbridges' corruption to the world, by any means necessary.

But even as their plans bring them closer to revealing the Bainbridges' treacherous endgame, Jay and Leroy's own secrets from each other threaten to pull their love apart, just as old feelings between Jay and Will begin to blossom again. And as the battle for a brighter future boils over into the streets, to save their homes--and everyone they love--Jay, Leroy, and Will must decide: When the cost of justice might be each of their happiness, will they be able to make the sacrifice togetha?

This is the Year by Gloria Muñoz Holiday House

"In outer space, no one will know me as the girl with the dead sister." Seventeen-year-old self-proclaimed Goth and aspiring writer Julieta Villarreal is drowning. She's grieving her twin sister who died in a hit-and-run, her Florida home is crumbling under the weight of climate disaster, and she isn't sure how much longer she can stand to stay in a place that doesn't seem to have room for her.

Then, Juli is recruited by Cometa, a private space program enlisting high-aptitude New American teens for a high-stakes mission to establish humanity's first extraterrestrial settlement. Cometa pitches this as an opportunity for Juli to give back to her adopted country; Juli sees it as her only chance to do something big with her life.

Juli begins her training, convinced Cometa is her path to freedom. But her senior year is full of surprises, including new friendships, roller skating, and first love. And through her small but poignant acts of environmentalism, Juli begins to find hope in unexpected places. As her world collapses from the ramifications of the climate crisis, Juli must decide if she'll carry her loss together with her community or leave it all behind.

Told in gripping prose interspersed with poems from Juli's writing journal, this genre-bending novel explores themes of immigration, climate justice, grief, and the power of communities.

Bemused by Farrah Rochon Disney Press

The untold origin story of the 5 Muses from Disney's Hercules is revealed in this rollicking YA fantasy filled with mythical adventure, music, and the unbreakable bonds of sisterhood. The Muses narrated Hercules's story. Now, in this novel for fans of the New York Times bestsellers Go the Distance and Fire & Fate, they'll narrate their own "gospel truth."

Living in a quiet seaside village with their overprotective mother, teenaged sisters Calliope, Clio, Melpomene, Terpsichore, and Thalia are talented performers with no audience. If Calli had her way, she'd pursue her dream of writing epic stories in the city of Thebes. But family comes first, and as the eldest, she'd never leave her beloved sisters behind.

Then, following a disastrous public music performance, their mother reveals a shocking secret: she is Mnemosyne, the Goddess of Memory, and for nearly two decades, she's been on the run from the gods of Mount Olympus, desperate to keep her daughters safe from their machinations. Before she can share more, she is kidnapped . . . and though the girls don't know it yet, the villain pulling the strings is none other than Hades, fiery God of the Underworld.

Under Calli's leadership, the sisters embark on a journey to save their mother and to learn more about their own divine origins. But the path ahead is filled with mythical trials and tribulations, and they'll need to rely on both their individual talents and the strength of their sisterhood to ensure that they ascend from "zeroes" to "heroes"--or more accurately, heroines.

The Wishless Ones (Dark Ascension #3) by Hafsah Faizal Disney Press

From #1 New York Times bestselling author Hafsah Faizal comes the untold origin story of Agrabah's future royal vizier Jafar and his brother Rohan. Before Jafar became Agrabah's grand vizier, there were two brothers wishing for a different life.

Living in the shadow of their mother's death and their father's cruel whims, Jafar only longs to protect one person--his soft-hearted younger brother, Rohan. But Jafar knows he is destined for more, and if he has his way, he'll soon be an apprentice at Maghriz's elite House of Wisdom, studying alchemy.

Then a fire destroys the remains of their shattered life, and Jafar has no choice but to resort to ruses and trickery, including convincing Rohan that the House of Wisdom is their only chance at rebuilding their lives. But Maghriz holds more danger and intrigue than either brother can imagine. Its powerful Sultana is plotting a grand deception that could shape the nation's future, and she believes the brothers are the missing piece of her scheme.

For the first time, Jafar can envision a future where he puts his own desires before Rohan's--and Rohan feels ready to escape his brother's shadow. As the brothers contend with their darkest impulses, they must decide: is their ambition worth their brotherhood?

Brewed with Love by Shelly Page Joy Revolution

Plant witch, Sage Bishop, is determined to run her family’s old apothecary one day. She spends her time trying to invent the perfect tonic to put Bishop Brews on the map. And she’s going to need one quickly, too, because their biggest competitor is drawing away customers.

Short-staffed, her nana hires Ximena Reyes, Sage’s ex-best friend and first crush, who’s more of an unwelcome distraction than anything. Ximena has always dreamed of leaving their small town behind while Sage wants to tend to her roots. And during one of their first shifts together, someone breaks into Bishop Brews, stealing several tonics, including the one Sage has been working tirelessly on, the same one that wipes a councilmember’s kid’s memory.

To avoid being shut down by the sheriff, Sage decides to investigate. If so much wasn’t at stake, she’d do it alone. But with her grandmother’s legacy and her future on the line, she must partner with her ever smug and unfairly pretty new coworker. As Sage begins to fall for Ximena (again), she’ll have to decide if the comfort of the familiar is worth missing out on a chance at real happiness.

Honeysuckle and Bone by Trisha Tobias Zando - Sweet July Books

On the run from her own dark secrets, a teen girl becomes the nanny for a prestigious family on their extravagant Jamaican estate—but things aren't quite as they seem, and she quickly discovers even paradise may be haunted.

Carina Marshall is looking to reinvent herself, and what better place to do it than Jamaica, her mother’s alluring homeland where she conveniently has access to an au pair gig for the wealthy and politically powerful Hall family.

After months of being the target of vicious rumors and hate online (which she just might deserve), the luxurious Blackbead House seems to hold everything she wants, a world of mango trees, tropical breezes, and glamorous parties—and a place to disappear. Once there, Carina joins up with her fellow junior staff members, the self-named Young Birds, and finds herself sinking right into her busy, but comfortable, new life. Yes, the Halls run a tight ship, and yes, there is some tension amongst the family, but she’s content flying under the radar, doing her job, and hanging out with her new friends—not least, the handsome and charming Aaron.

But when inexplicable things start happening to her in the house, only getting worse each night, Carina realizes that someone—or something—is out to get her. Is it the house itself? The Halls? Or, worse, is it her own past catching up with her? With the help of Aaron, she must figure out what is haunting her, and fast, before she is forced out of Blackbead House for good.

Eerie, propulsive, and full of intrigue, Honeysuckle and Bone is a deliciously atmospheric, young adult novel, following an imperfect yet courageous teen as she seeks to remake herself in the homeland she always idealized, only to discover that new beginnings don’t always come easy.

First Love Language by Stefany Valentine Penguin Workshop

Taiwanese American Catie Carlson has never fit in with her white family. As much as she loves her stepmom and stepsister, she yearns to understand more about her culture and find her biological mother.

So Catie is shocked when an opportunity comes knocking on her door: Her summer spa coworker, Toby, says he'll teach her Mandarin. In exchange, she needs to teach him how to date so he can finally work up the courage to ask out his crush. The only problem is that Catie doesn't actually have any dating experience. But she can fake it.

With her late father's copy of The Five Love Languages and all his annotated notes, Catie becomes the perfect dating coach. Or so she thinks. As she gets dangerously close to Toby and to finding out what really happened to her biological mom, she realizes that learning the language of love might be tougher than she thought.

Stefany Valentine's debut novel is both a fresh, fun romance as well as a profound, luminous story about grief, family, transracial adoption, and what it means to truly follow your heart.

Build a Girlfriend by Elba Luz Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers

A teen deep-dives into her dating history to uncover her mistakes, become the perfect girlfriend, and get revenge on the wrong guy so she can ride into the sunset with the right one in this debut rom-com.

To the surprise of no one, Amelia Hernandez is once again single. It’s her family curse at work; whether it’s by heartbreak, scandal, or even accidental death, every romantic relationship that a Hernandez woman has will meet its demise eventually. And that may be fine with Amelia’s sisters, mom, and aunts, but definitely not with Amelia.

So, convinced that she is the problem, Amelia decides to embark on an “Ex Retrospective:” tracking down her exes, finding out where she went wrong, and using that information to finally become un-break-up-able for whenever her next relationship comes along. Because Amelia is determined to be free of the family curse…and her family.

However, when Amelia is unwillingly reunited with Leon, the ex to end all exes, she can’t resist having a little revenge on the side, too. After all, what better way to test out her new persona of perfect girlfriend traits than on the boy who broke her heart?

But old loves die hard, and as Amelia’s feelings grow more complicated, she suspects that she may be in for more than she bargained for.

The Queen's Spade by Sarah Raughley HarperCollins

In this riveting historical thriller that’s loosely inspired by true life events, The Count of Monte Cristo meets Bridgerton as revenge, romance, and twisted secrets take center stage in Victorian England’s royal court when Sally, a kidnapped African princess and goddaughter to Queen Victoria, plots her way to take down the monarchy that stole her from her homeland.

A young lady can take only so many injuries before humiliation and insult forge a vow of revenge . . .

The year is 1862, and murderous desires are simmering in England. Nineteen-year-old Sarah Bonetta Forbes (Sally), once a princess of the Egbado Clan, desires one thing above all else: revenge against the British Crown and its system of colonial “humanitarianism,” which stole her dignity and transformed her into royal property. From military men to political leaders, she’s vowed to ruin all who’ve had a hand in her afflictions. The top of her list? Her godmother, Britain’s mighty monarch, Queen Victoria herself.

Taking down the Crown means entering into a twisted game of court politics and manipulating the Queen’s inner circle—even if that means aligning with a dangerous yet alluring crime lord in London’s underworld and exploiting the affections of Queen Victoria’s own son, Prince Albert, as a means to an end. But when Queen Victoria begins to suspect Sally’s true intentions, she plays the only card in Victorian society that could possibly cage Sally once again: marriage. Because if there’s one thing Sally desires more than revenge, it’s her freedom. With time running out and her wedding day looming, Sally’s vengeful game of cat and mouse turns deadly as she’s faced with the striking revelation that that the price for vengeance isn’t just paid in blood. It means sacrificing your heart.

Loosely inspired by the true story of Sarah Forbes Bonetta, Queen Victoria’s African goddaughter, The Queen’s Spade is a lush and riveting historical thriller perfect for fans of A Dowry of Blood and Grave Mercy.

Bingsu for Two by Sujin Witherspoon Union Square & Co.

Meet River Langston-Lee. In the past 24 hours, he’s dumped his girlfriend, walked out of his SATs, and quit his job at his parents’ cafe in spectacularly disastrous fashion—even for him.

Somehow, he manages to talk his way into a gig at a failing Korean cafe, Bingsu for Two, which is his lucky break until he meets short, grumpy, and goth: Sarang Cho. She’s his new no-BS co-worker who’s as determined to make River’s life hell as she is to save her family’s cafe.

After River accidentally uploads a video of his chaotic co-workers to his popular fandom account, they strike viral fame. The kicker? Their new fans ship River and Sarang big-time. In order to keep the Internet’s attention—and the cafe’s new paying customers—River and Sarang must pretend that the tension between them is definitely of the romantic variety, not the considering the best way to kill you and hide your body variety.

But when Bingsu for Two’s newfound success catches the attention of River’s ex and his parents’ cafe around the corner, he faces a choice: keep letting others control his life or stand up for the place that’s become home. And a green-haired girl who’s not as heartless as he originally thought . . .

Dreamover by Dani Diaz Top Shelf Productions

In this captivating debut YA graphic novel, two best friends becoming more than friends feels like a dream come true. But when one sleepover literally turns into a dream, will they ever want to wake up again?

“I wish we could stay here forever.”

Amber and Nico would make an odd couple. She’s a headstrong goofball with a temper. He’s a shy, self-conscious emo boy. But they’ve been best friends since third grade and are both very good at video games, and she can’t hide her feelings for him any longer. During the end of their eighth-grade class beach trip, she confesses her undying love to him. To no one’s surprise except hers, the feeling is mutual! Thus begins a glorious, blissful summer of first love.

But life gets complicated once high school starts. Amber and Nico are faced with their toughest challenges yet: getting to school by 7:25 A.M. every day, dealing with bullies, and juggling their relationship, friendships, and homework. Things start to spiral out of control, causing Amber and Nico to cling to each other and neglect their friends. Soon, they find themselves stressed, depressed, and friendless. Amber wishes she could run away with Nico and escape the never-ending nightmare of high school.

One night, as they play video games together, Amber gets her wish: She and Nico mysteriously fall into a shared lucid dream where anything they imagine becomes possible and endless adventure awaits. Will they run away together forever or choose to return to the real world?

Girl, Ultra-Processed by Amara Sage Faber & Faber

A searing look at diet culture and all its ugly consequences, from the talented writer of Influential.

New year, new me!

That's what Saffron Saldana tells herself as the clock strikes midnight on New Year's Eve.

Her resolution is the same every year: lose weight. Because Saffron has it hard-wired that weight loss equals happiness. It's what she's been told her whole life - online, in magazines, especially by her own diet-obsessed mother. But dieting is hard.

So to escape her own reality, Saffron creates Sydney, a super-slim, AI-generated 'perfect' version of herself. Boys online love Sydney, and for Saffron, it's just a bit of harmless fun.

Until the boundaries of her life online and offline begin to blur . . . And one boy in particular makes her question her desire to be someone she's not.

Can Saffron find a way back to herself, and learn to love who she actually is?

Girl: Ultra-Processed explores what it is like to be a teenage girl in our current body-obsessed world while juggling family drama, friend dynamics, dating, betrayals and major life changes.

Love on Paper by Danielle Parker Joy Revolution

The daughter of two prestigious writers, Macy Descanso has decided to take her own writing seriously. So what if her mother pulled some strings to get Macy into a prestigious writing retreat? Macy belongs here. But when she arrives, she learns that the theme has been changed to romance, per the bequest of the late, prolific romance author Betty Quinn. Though a cynic, Macy lives for a challenge.

What she’s not prepared for is to be partnered with Caleb Bernard, also the child of two prestigious writers. The Descansos and Bernards notably have beef—a rivalry that has lasted generations. With something to prove, Macy and Caleb decide to put their family squabbles aside to work together as critique partners.

But this retreat is anything but ordinary. According to lore, every year, authors leave easter eggs behind for new students to find. Macy and Caleb are eager to solve Betty Quinn’s mystery. And in the process, Macy and Caleb find that they have a lot in common. Still, will their connection be enough to surpass their families’ feud? Can the relationship they’ve built continue after the retreat?

The Scorpion Queen by Mina Fears Flatiron Books

Deep within the imperial palace at Timbuktu, Amie has suffered a devastating loss. Once the daughter of a prosperous salt merchant Amie’s life was cruelly overturned in a matter of months. At sixteen, Amie now finds herself disinherited, framed for a scandalous crime, and forced to serve Princess Mariama of Mali . Her father, Emperor Sulyeman, has created a series of impossible trials for his daughter's suitors. When they fail, he publicly boils them alive, littering Mariama’s path to marriage with ninety-nine corpses.

At first, Amie’s life at court is drudgery—the chores are difficult, the servants despise her, and Princess Mariama is prone to mood swings—but the more she learns about the princess's circumstances, the closer the two girls become. Amie and her intended, Kader, plan to escape Timbuktu and make a new life far away from the shadow of death that has fallen upon the emperor’s court, but she finds herself increasingly drawn to the princess in ways she doesn’t understand.

When a mysterious discovery forces her hand, she must choose between fleeing with the boy she loves or helping the princess to end the trials forever. Amie will need to draw on all of her strength and courage to make the perilous journey through the desert to seek the aid of an exiled god in a final, desperate attempt to take charge of her own destiny.

On the Wings of la Noche by Vanessa L. Torres Knopf Books for Young Readers

Noche is a Lechuza by night, an ethereal jet-black owl who guides the dead to the after. Except now, Noche cannot bring herself to escort her dead girlfriend, whose soul is fading the harder Noche holds on—an aching romance about first and second loves and finding the strength to let go.

Death waits for Estrella (Noche) Villanueva. In her human form, she is a lonely science girl grieving the tragic accidental drowning of her girlfriend, Dante Fuentes. At night, she is a Lechuza who visits her dead girlfriend at the lake, desperate for more time with her. The longer Dante’s soul roams the earth, the more likely it is that she will fade into the unknown, lost forever, but Noche cannot let go . . .

That’s when a new kid comes to town, Jax, another science nerd like Noche. They connect in a way she can’t ignore, seemingly pulled together by an invisible thread. For the first time, Noche begins to imagine a life without Dante. As Noche’s heart begins to beat for two people, her guilt flares. Then, she finds herself at risk of losing both Jax and Dante, and Noche is forced to question her purpose as a lechuza and everything she has ever believed in.

I Am Not Jessica Chen by Ann Liang HarperTeen

After getting rejected by every single Ivy League she applied to and falling short of all her Asian immigrant parents’ expectations, seventeen-year-old Jenna Chen makes a wish to become her smarter, infinitely more successful Harvard-bound cousin, Jessica Chen—only for her wish to come true. Literally.

Now trapped inside Jessica’s body, with access to Jessica’s most private journals and secrets, Jenna soon discovers that being the top student at the elite, highly competitive Havenwood Private Academy isn’t quite what she imagined. Worse, as everyone—including her own parents—start having trouble remembering who Jenna Chen is, or if she ever even existed, Jenna must decide if playing the role of the perfect daughter and student is worth losing her true self forever.