#Like i love bruce but please what is this

[dollishmehrayan]

# “WOULD YOU DO ANYTHING FOR ME?, BUY A BIG DIAMOND RING FOR ME?” ── .✦ ( how batboys act when they’re engaged w reader )

dollish note ౨ৎ: I lowkey crashed out over losing Americans on tiktok but this woke up to post on tumblr but hey, also can we talk about how trump used that as a pr stunt && thought we wouldn’t notice wtf like omgg the way many americans caught on, alsoo please leave some motivation for me because I just kinda lost motivation for this app after the tiktok thingy went down 🫠 tags: (batboys x engaged!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Over the moon and not afraid to show it. Dick tells everyone the second you say yes. Alfred? He knows. Random stranger in the grocery store? The metro security guy?, Yep, they know too. He’s got that goofy, lovestruck grin plastered on his face 24/7.

Wedding planning enthusiast. You thought you’d do most of the planning? Wrong. Dick’s fully invested, showing you Pinterest boards of venues, color schemes, and “Do you think Nightwing blue (dollish note: I think ‘#3366CC’ perhaps?) would be tacky for the napkins?”

Gets sappy at random times. You’ll catch him staring at you with a dreamy look, and when you ask why, he just shrugs. “I’m just thinking about how lucky I am.”, “Dick calm down you only proposed like 2 weeks ago.”

Brags to the Batfam constantly. “Guys, I’m going to be a husband! Can you believe it? Me! Richard Grayson!” Bruce pretends to be joyful a bit but he’s done hearing it for the 777x time but even he cracks a small smile when Dick won’t shut up about you.

Practices saying his vows in the mirror. You walked in on him once, and he was mortified. “Okay, but you didn’t hear the good part yet!”, “You literally finished the whole paper !!”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Acts like it’s not a big deal, but it’s huge for him. He’ll play it cool at first, saying something like, “It’s just a ring, babe.” But deep down, he’s nervous, excited, and trying not to let it show.

Keeps the engagement low-key. Jason’s not one for flashy announcements or grand gestures. He wants this to be something special between you two, not the whole world.

Protective x10. Now that you’re officially going to be his spouse, Jason is extra watchful. He’s already looking into ways to keep you safe and makes sure you’re never caught in the crossfire of his vigilante life.

Wants you to be 100% comfortable. He checks in with you constantly about the wedding plans. “We don’t have to do anything big, okay? Just say the word, and it’s done.” He’ll let you take the lead but secretly loves when you include him.

Teases you with the whole “fiancé” thing. “Hey, fiancée. Can you grab my coffee? Oh, did I mention you’re my fiancée now?” It’s his way of hiding how excited he really is.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Nervous wreck but totally in love. Tim overthinks everything after proposing. Did he pick the right ring? Did he say the right words? Is he even ready to be a husband? But every time he sees you smile, it calms him down.

Keeps it practical. Tim doesn’t want a huge engagement party or a grand wedding. He’s more focused on what your future together will look like your shared goals, finances, and making sure you’re both on the same page.

Researches marriage like it’s a mission. He has books on successful relationships, listens to podcasts, and even makes a checklist for wedding planning. You find it adorable when he starts using color coded spreadsheets.

Loves when you call him your fiancé. The first time you said it, he blushed so hard he had to look away. Now he’s low-key obsessed with hearing it. “You don’t have to keep calling me that… but don’t stop either.”

Gets emotional when he thinks about the future. You once caught him staring at the engagement ring on your finger, looking teary-eyed. When you asked what was wrong, he said, “I just can’t believe you’re actually mine.” (I would’ve smacked the shit out of him for that, I don’t do romance 🙄💪)

[notrobinsomethingworse]

Clark: I had a good night Bruce.

Bruce: I did too.

Clark: I’ll see you tomorrow then?

Bruce: Yes. I will see you tomorrow.

Clark: … Goodnight Bruce.

Bruce: Goodnight… Clark.

Bruce: [sighs] wait.

Bruce: I’m not a man who expresses his emotions easily but… Clark. I love you.

Clark: Bruce-

-

Batkids, in a bush nearby

Cass, peaking out with the only pair of binoculars.

Steph: You gotta tell me what’s going on. Come on Cass.

Dick, also looking out: Shut up he’s saying something.

Steph: Cass please.

Tim: You all realise Clark can hear us right now…

Damian: Please. The alien has always been incompetent and with Father providing an acceptable distraction I doubt he even noticed the poison I snuck into his wine.

Dick: Damian. You did what-

Jason: Good job baby bird. Getting a little practice in before the kryptonite?

Dick: Don’t encourage him-

Steph: Cass come oonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn-

Duke: This is insane. You guys all know this is insane right? Why did I agree to this-

Jason: I have no idea why you think I’m supposed to be a good role model. I’m a drug lord.

Dick: Well right now you’re not. You’re fuckin Jason Todd.

Jason: I’m fuckin legally dead dickbird-

Tim, elbowing Damian: Use this wisely.

Damian, taking the lead lined box: This does not mean I will consider you my equal.

Tim: Ha. You’re nowhere near my equal.

Damian: How dare-

Tim: You’re more like my grandson with how Ra keeps wanting me to have his babies.

Dick: Hold up-

Damian: DRAKE-

Steph: Okay Cass it’s been like twenty minutes. Pleeeeaaaase tell me what’s going on.

Duke: -I could be takin’ a nap right now. Havin’ a bubble bath. I’m not a bath kinda guy but I could be. Ya know?

Jason: Amen to that.

Dick: Can we rewind to Tim being courted by Ra Al Ghul.

Cass: We have been spotted.

[Everyone shuts up]

Cass: Both are on route.

Dick: Manoeuvre 3C. Run for your fucking lives.

[Mad dashing]

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green, Part 26

masterpost this is a first draft, please no editing or concrit <3

“Hey, chum, you’re up early,” Bruce said, his own voice still rough with more exhaustion than sleep. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the mess of black hair as he passed the kitchen table. “Didn’t sleep great?”

Danny blinked up at Bruce. His startled eyes glowed faintly green eyes in the dim, more night than morning light of the kitchen. He clutched his coffee mug like a lifeline.

Bruce pulled his hand away from Danny’s hair and took a small step back. He kept his arms carefully relaxed at his side, palms forward. “I’m sorry Danny, was that too much touch? It’s fine if you feel it was. I was acting on habit, like I would with my other kids.”

“No, um, it was nice. I just didn’t think that you would… we were…,” Danny wiped at his eyes with his sweater sleeve in a jerky, frustrated motion. “Sorry. Just was a rough night, and I guess I’m feeling a little overwhelmed.”

“That’s more than understandable.”

It was only the second day after Danny had told them everything. The kids had spent that first night building an impressive pillow fort and watching movies all night. The day after was basically a game of distracting Danny. It wasn’t a surprise that it was all hitting Danny now.

“Do you need any more coffee?” Bruce offered.

Danny offered up his cup silently and Bruce too it over to the kraft. Coffee with creamer for Danny while Bruce added a splash of creamer and sugar to his own. He took the seat next to Danny when he got back to the table, careful not to step on Ursa, who was sleeping under the chairs, snuggled against Danny’s blue bear.

“Danny, you’re my kid, chum.”

Danny looked down at his coffee. “I’m your clone.”

“You’re a child,” Bruce said gently. “Specifically you’re a child with my genetic make-up. You just have more of it than normal. That doesn’t make you any less my kid. I… can be bad at words. I am, often, especially when it matters most. I say a lot more through actions and touch. I am trying to be better. Danny, you are my kid. This is your home whenever you need it to be, and I love you as much as any of my children. You don’t have to earn or wait for it. Okay?”

“Okay,” Danny said with a sniffle as he scrubbed at his eyes again. “Can I—is it okay to ask for a hug?”

Bruce held open is arms and Danny flung himself into them. Bruce pressed another kiss to Danny’s hair. “More than.”

-

After breakfast, showering, and more coffee and tea than was probably healthy for one family to consume, those that were still in the house settled outside on the patio. They watched Dick and Danny frolic about with the dogs in the yard; Damian was watching from the sidelines.

“Damian is going to be tackled by a dog soon,” Tim commented, almost absently, as he glanced up from his tablet.

“Yeah, he totally is,” Duke agreed. He was stretched out in his chair, feet up on an ottoman, and half looking like he was ready to fall back asleep.

Bruce smiled slightly. “I’m sure that he’ll manage to survive the attack.”

“After screaming about it,” Jason added.

Bruce nodded in agreement. There probably would be screaming; it would wake Duke up. At least it would be a lively mid-morning. It’s a shame that Danny was still healing, or they could go swimming later. Well, the pool would still be there another day. They had time.

“So,” Tim said. He glanced up from his tablet again to catch Bruce’s attention. “What are your plans about Danny?”

Jason snorted. “So clinical, Timbit.”

Tim flicked Jason off.

Bruce sighed, “Boys.”

“Bruce,” the two of them chirped together, utterly unrepentant.

Bruce valiantly resisted the urge to sigh again. “I’ll arrange a press conference once we are sure that his back story and papers are iron clad. I’m sure that Barbara has already been work on it, along with you, Tim.”

Tim just shrugged, unrepentant. “It seemed prudent to. We haven’t decided anything concrete, though Babs may have started to hack into things in Michigan to have access down the right bread crumbs. We figured sticking midwest was best, even if he doesn’t have much of an accent.”

Bruce hummed in reply.

“What’s going to be your excuse for his scars?” Jason asked.

It was true there would be no hiding them.

“His mother was a casual affair,” Bruce said. He pulled together the threads of a plan as he spoke. “She never let me know that she was pregnant, though after being abroad for a time she did reach out to me hoping to meet up in a few months. I thought nothing of it until Danny showed up. We were old acquaintances but never socially that close. It turns out that she died in child birth before we could ever meet again. Danny went to live with a someone estranged aunt. While the inheritance money from his mother’s estate lasted, things were neglectful but manageable. When it started to not live up to the Aunt’s desired lifestyle, she became cruel and methodical in her abuse.

“Desperate and trapped, Danny started to look for new hiding places in the house. It lead him to finding his mother’s journals. Her thoughts, some old letters, and the occasional picture. He started to put things together. He risked taking his Aunt’s cellphone one evening when she was drunk and looked me up. He made a plan to come this way however he could manage. Enraged at losing her meal ticket, and social standing with him, the aunt went into a rage. She died in a drunk car accident when she drove into a light post the same night Danny ran.”

“Right. You’re scarily good at that,” Jason said after a beat. “I guess then we just go more with the truth. He arrived in Gotham, got stabbed, and ended up on the Bat’s radar. They took care of him of him until he was ready to tell his story and meet you.”

“That’s two more people that we need to make a paper trail for,” Tim grumbled.

“Annalise Linwood. I met her in boarding school,” Bruce said softly as he watched his children play. “I would be seen in her company on and off throughout the years. She had reached out to me for help on how to approach the birth of her child from an affair she was having. The father was a sometimes violent sort who she had used to think she could save. She died in childbirth, as did her child. Her estranged sister was her only living relative after a tragic accident with small aircraft the year before. The sister was reclusive unless she was drunk, or so Annalise had said once. It would be easy to assume she home schooled Danny and kept him out of the social eye. So, no, we just need to fake the paperwork for Danny.”

Bruce could feel Jason’s eyes on him.

“Oh.”

Bruce smiled softly, sadly. “It is changing the story of the dead, but Annalise was looking forward to being a mother. I think she would be alright with it, if it helped a child out.”

“Right, one set of paper trails,” Tim said quietly. “I’ll make sure Babs gets the information.”

There was a sudden shout from the lawn as Damian went down under the weight of Titus. Duke jolted awake and scrambled to not fall of his chair. Jason barked out a laugh as he tried to help catch Duke. Tim took photos. Danny ran over to help Damian, Ursa on his heels.

Yes, Bruce thought, Annalise would be alright with this.

---

an: great, now I'm emotional over a filler oc I made! ;-;

[fuk3d]

A Moment In Time

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Warning(s): Mentions of neglect, verbal abuse, and self-doubt.

Word Count: 1,074

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first time getting back into writing fanfic since 2016 LMAOOO. Anyway, I'm pretty sure this is pure shit so pls feel free to give me constructive criticism. AND PLEASE TELL ME IF THERE'S MISTAKES CUZ THATS EMBARRASSING HAHA. Also writings cringe as hell so soz.

The Wayne resident felt empty, soulless, cold, and you couldn't bare the stillness of it all. So you step out onto the balcony, coffee in hand with the chilling air biting at your fingers harshly. You absentmindedly sipped on your coffee, the warm sensation from your cup steadily combating the freezing cold. The garden's atmosphere was filled with tranquility, the sun's rays slowly touching everything in its path. 

If only it could be like this forever.

You breathe in a shaky sigh and flutter your eyes to a gentle close, small puffs of air exit your mouth as you exhale out slowly. This would be the last time you’ll be gazing down at the alluring range of flowers scattered across the garden, its colours radiating brightly from the warm sunrise as it gently caressed the horizon. You can’t help but think back to all of your greatest achievements, your not so finest moments, and the bitter reminder of lonely memories that are left dormant inside your mind.

What more could I have done? Why didn’t I try harder? Why? Why, why, why, wh-

“Young (Name)? Are you alright? It’s cold out there, you should come back inside, where it’s warm.” Your eyes snap back open and you turn your body to face your family butler, Alfred. You blink, then you blink again, until you sputter out your reply with a wobbly smile. “Alfred! I’m- I’m fine, I just wanted to have my coffee out on the balcony.” ‘one last time’.

You turn to breathe in the fresh air for the final time before leaving the balcony area in silence. Today is your 18th birthday, and yet it doesn’t feel like it. A birthday is supposed to be a milestone, something to be celebrated with friends and family, with loved ones.

You shake yourself out of your stupor, a shudder leaves your lips, the icy temperature sending chills throughout your body. You find yourself sitting down near the kitchen table, your lukewarm coffee still in hand. And Alfred all but quietly makes your favourite breakfast, just how you’ve liked it for the last 18 years of your life. It’s been hard, you think to yourself. The unwarranted isolation from Bruce, the hurtful, cut-throat words thrown towards you from Damian as if you were a burden, the excuses from Dick, claiming he already had plans made so “Maybe next time! Yeah?”. And you remember so vividly of Jason pushing you away, as if the bond you two shared didn’t matter anymore. The fond memories, the time spent together, gone, just like that after he had died.

And how could you forget about Tim? Or about Cass, Barbara, Stephanie, and Duke? None of them rarely ever put in the effort to spend even a fraction of their time with you. But it doesn’t matter to you, right? No, not even a single bit, you don’t care anymore; of course you don’t care! Because you’re done, you’re done being in the shadows, done being stuck within those four tiny walls that had been called ‘your room’, and done with not being anyone's choice, especially not even your fathers. 

Even so, that's not true is it? You can lie to everyone else, but you can’t lie to yourself. You do care, and it stings because you’ve been caring up until you forced yourself not to anymore.

With your heart held heavy in your chest, an indescribable ache creeps up your throat as you recount the gut-wrenching memories that you struggle to desperately shake from your head, your now empty cup sits cold on the table in front of you. 

“Breakfast served.” Alfred slides a plate of your favourite in front of you. Your lips are stretched into a light smile, yet it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Thank you Alfred..” You say before the both of you are engulfed in comfortable silence. You eat your breakfast at a comfortable pace, savouring the delectable taste that fills your mouth before inevitably finishing your breakfast. Your family's butler busies himself by cleaning the kitchen counter, wiping it down with careful precision before moving down to wipe down the very kitchen table you sit at. “Hey, uhm Alfred?” You speak up before you can even stop yourself, the words stumbling out in a fervent storm. 

“Will you miss me when I move out?” Alfred can only stop and look at you, really look at you. And from the looks of it, you appear collected, indifferent even, but to your butler he notices nearly everything about you. The way you play with your hair when you’re nervous, or how you fiddle with your fingers when you’re uncomfortable and the slight furrow of your eyebrows as you concentrate. So you can’t help but shrink just a little at his expression, his features showing no emotion for you to understand what he’s feeling. 

“I know you’re busy assisting the families business with… their nightly duties and... and I realise I’ve been such a burden to you and the family, but I know I’ll miss you the most out of everyone so-” 

you’re abruptly cut off by the shuffling of Alfred’s feet walking towards you, his arms enveloping you into a hug. A hug that was desperately needed and long overdue. You reciprocate Afred’s action’s and tightly wrap your arms around him, your hands scrunching up Alfred’s uniform because of how hard your hands are balled up into fists. You’re stunned, too puzzled to speak as Afred’s begins to speak. 

“You will be missed dearly Young [Name]. You’re smile, you’re creativity, you’re ideas, our time together; I’ll miss all of these things, those moments that we have.” a pleasant warmth settles within you, Alfred’s hand makes its way to the back of your head, bringing you to his chest as he pats gently. It’s barely audible but it's there, a small sniffle once, twice, then a series of them start to fill the empty rooms' quietness. Tears start to well up within your tear ducts except you refuse to let them fall despite a few already running down your face. You cry, you just feel so scattered and a bit of a mess right now as your tears and snot stain Alfred's clothes.

You let yourself be in the moment, you let down your walls and stripped away the hard exterior around your heart. You’re vulnerable and…  it feels great. 

For once you feel relieved. Happy.

Credit to @adornedwithlight!

End Note: Just to rephrase, this is my first time getting back into writing fan-fiction so I'm rusty asf lol. And any writers that have been doing this for way longer than me, please give me some tips or advice on how I can improve my own writing LMAOO.

[witherby]

Please help a starving Anon..... I need more Mother Hen Hal from you...The way you write him and the characters are so good and perfect(idc if anyone disagrees), i am dying../silly/nf

It can have anything you wish to add, maybe a sprinkle of hurt/comfort (let's not forget the queers(BatLantern) too/verysilly)/lh

Yeah, you can absolutely have more mother hen Hal!!! This one is a little early in the relationship, pre-Flittermouse, and Dick-centric.

The Littlest Wayne: Mother Hen (Dick)

"B! Thanks for coming to get —"

Dick stops and tilts his head as the window of the Lambo rolls down. It's not Bruce, here to pick him up from a celebration at Titan's Tower he was just a smidge too drunk to drive himself home from.

It's Hal.

"Hi, kid," he greets. "Bruce was asleep when you texted. I told him to chill out and I'd get you instead."

"Oh, hi," Dick says, a little off-kilter. His grin only wanes a little. "Yeah. Okay."

He walks around the car and climbs into the front passenger seat, brows furrowed. It's the first time they've been alone together since Bruce told the boys that they started seeing each other.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Have you eaten in a while? Might hit a drive-through before we get back. My treat as long as you don't tell Alfred."

Dick nods slowly, staring at Hal like he can't quite figure everything out. Hal just shoots him an easy smile, then focuses his attention on the road.

They're quiet for a while, the radio playing some top 10 hit softly through the speakers neither one of them recognizes. When Hal pulls up to order them some food (and how curious that he knows Dick's usual) then waves away Dick's effort to pay, the man can't help but say something.

"You don't... have to do that."

"It's like thirty bucks, champ. I've got it," Hal chuckles.

"I don't mean the food."

Hal looks at Dick curiously. It's probably the fact that he's still pretty sloshed, but he feels especially vulnerable in the car with him, and can't quite keep his thoughts to himself.

"You don't have to pretend to care about Bruce's kids just because you're dating Bruce." Even as he says it, he knows it was mean and dismissive. Dick chews on the inside of his cheek and can't figure out how to take that back, so he stops talking.

Hal doesn't respond. Dick can't make himself look at Hal's face, so he fiddles with the Nightwing charm dangling off his cellphone.

"Here's your meal, sir. Enjoy," says a fast food employee. Hal thanks her quickly, then pulls into a parking lot and kills the engine. Dick listens to him rustle through the bag and sort out what belongs to whom for a minute, then gently takes his portion from him when it's offered.

"Hey," says Hal. Dick pretends he's too preoccupied with opening the sauce packet for his chicken nuggets to look up. "Okay. I'd probably be a little skittish after dropping a bomb like that, too. So, just listen for a sec, okay?"

"Kay," he mumbles through a mouthful of fries, trying very hard not to feel like he's eight years old and sitting in Commissioner Gordon's office, waiting to find out if Bruce will assume guardianship and take him home, waiting to see if he'd be accepted or rejected.

"I think Bruce is it for me."

Hmm. Okay, not the words he expected to hear, but Dick is listening.

"You've probably heard that from his exes before. Something about Bruce is just...captivating. He's got his own gravitational pull, and I'm not interested in getting knocked outta orbit."

Hal pops a couple fries in his mouth. Dick sees his shoulders shrug in his periphery.

"I'm in love with him, is the point. Have been for a few years now, but I didn't think it was reciprocal until that battle in Coast City. But Bruce isn't just Bruce, is he?"

Hal reaches across the center console to gently squeeze Dick's knee.

"He's Bruce, and Dick, and Jason, and Tim, and Damian. He's got a whole gaggle of wonderful sons I'd love to get to know."

"We've worked together tons of times before," Dick says. He's barely picking at his food, too busy trying to figure out Hal's point.

"Sure. I've worked with Nightwing a lot. But that's not all you are. I don't really know anything about Dick Grayson, and I'd really like to."

Hal pulls his hand away and picks up his burger to take a bite.

"All this to say...I know you guys are mostly grown. You're used to having one parent and don't really need another one, and, damn, I don't know the first thing about any of that. But I'm in this for the long haul, and you can rely on me. I don't want any of you believing you're just an afterthought to me. Okay?"

Oh. Oh.

In lieu of an answer, and also because his throat feels too tight to speak, Dick just nods and goes back to eating. They finish their food in silence and Hal gets out to dispose of the trash, then turns the engine again to take him the rest of the way home. As he parks and they leave the garage, Dick throws his arms around Hal. He pretends the stinging in his eyes is some weird effect from the alcohol when Hal hugs him back just as tight.

"Goodnight, kid," he murmurs. "Go take a glass of water and some ibuprofen to bed with you for that hangover in the morning."

"Yes, mom," Dick snorts, teasing, but he detours to the kitchen with a shy little grin anyway.

[omgfangirlland]

I'm going to need all of you to hear me out on what I'm about to spew, but I have yandere!batfam brain rot, and I just came across Yan!girldad!nolan grayson.

HEAR ME OUT!

Putting a page break here cuz idk how long this will be-

So- the usual neglected batsis that as a youngster craved the attention of her fam, but after being brushed away, after being ignored, after being straight up forgotten about, says fuck it, y'all aren't worth my love, I'll use the Wayne money to do as I please.

So she does. She uses the monthly allowance that is on auto pay straight to her card to do arts, to paint her heart away, to draw and play video games, to fund and pay off anything from homeless shelters to medical bills, trying to make a dent into the Wayne fortune both in selfish and non-selfish ways. She's basically a petty tween.

But then she wakes up with powers. She thinks she's a meta- batman doesn't like metas, that's what she thinks, she doesn't know Bruce doesn't want metas in Gotham due to Gotham being ground zero for meta trafficking. Boom, panic.

I think she has powers like flying, super strength, and like immediate healing if not "iron skin" like Superman. So she wakes because she hits the ceiling due to flying while asleep. She panics, falls, maybe breaks something, nobody comes to check on her-

Now, she always has toyed with the idea of leaving, but this? THIS? Breaking point, she packs necessities and the Wayne card and says bye-bye Gotham, good morning... Chicago? NYC? Idk, whichever place Omni man lives in ig.

The batfam, of course, doesn't notice. In this universe, I think even Alfred won't have been paying that much attention to batsis, man's too busy. So what if one day he does his rounds, cleaning, opens a door he hasn't been in a while.

The room is dusty. Dusty beyond hell, and one singular photo of batsis at like a kindergarten graduation makes him drop everything, including his heart. Old man goes feral, absolutely crazy, because where the fuck is this kid, this little baby, that he went and picked up because Bruce couldn't be bothered.

The batfam goes crazy too. In the mean time-

Batsis is, surprisingly, living her best life. Initially, she planned on getting an under the table job- clean a bar, babysit, be the errand girl of some shady drag dealer, etc. But Nolan sees her while she tries to get her powers under control, shakily flying, accidentally blowing to pieces a tree as she leans against it.

Omni-man as he lurks in the shadows: Debbie would love a daughter. I would love a daughter.

Batsis would call it kidnapping, Nolan calls it adopting without extra steps. Debbie takes one look at this shaken kid and immediately goes mama mode while reprimanding Nolan about taking a kid off the streets and not warning her so she could prepare better.

Mark? It takes about 2 hours before he realizes that they can be training buddies and that they have similar taste in some things. That's his baby sister. No arguments, just baby sis. Batsis? Much like a hungry, cold cat, she accepts her fate. It does feel nice to finally have some attention on her.

So she trains with Nolan and Mark, gets great, becomes a reluctant superhero, deliberately ignores Nolan's rants about her becoming such a great warrior, his little girl on the way of becoming the greatest conquror. Gothamite batsis just shrugs it off as just a Thursday.

Back with the batfam, pure chaos. Everyone is in shambles. How could they forget about a whole kid? Their siblings, Bruce's youngest daughter. Guilt is slowly turning into madness, and madness is slowly turning into a need to prove they can be better, that they weren't deliberately overlooking an innocent child because of personal pettiness, they were just distracted but now they'll right their wrongs.

Bonus p1:

Superman finally meeting batsis: What do you mean you're Bruce's kid? 😃 What do you mean you're a meta and instead of coming to uncle Clark you go and get adopted by murderous Omni-man? 🙂 What do you mean you kinda approve of him killing his enemies? 🫠

Batsis just wants Joker to die.

Bonus pt2:

Dick: What do you mean she's calling that other Grayson boy big brother? 😀

Damien: What do you mean I have another sibling? What do you mean she's calling that purple alien bastard her little brother?! I blame you, father.

Bonus pt3:

John Constantine: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GAVE ONE OF BATMAN'S KIDS IMMORTALITY AND MAGICAL POWERS?

The deity/entity batsis has been depicting in her paintings for years: *shrugs* I was bored, my little priestess was sad, she's not anymore 🤷

That's the plot twist, batsis is actually magical, but her powers work the way they do because that's the only way she knows how to fight with them. Magic isn't on her thought as a possibility, even if she was into the occult.

Cue John drinking for 3 days straight before having the courage(or will) to go to the Bat.

[mtcloudsworld]

𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑺𝑶 𝑯𝑼𝑺𝑯 𝑯𝑼𝑺𝑯

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 | black!fem reader intended BUT could be anybody, vigilante!reader, stake out kind of mission, boyfriend!Jason Todd, suspicious!dick grayson, edited but if you see any errors please ignore, ty!!

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 | He told you. He actually told you. I can't believe it...

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 | drabble for the brain. Enjoy lovebugs!! :)

𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍, didn't think he had it in him. He didn't think it was gonna work out. Not that he didn't ever have faith in his little brother, he just figured since 𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐃 was more reserved with his feelings, admitting them to a love interest seemed ideal. But it worked out perfectly and that's what's mind blowing. And just like any other older brother out there who wants there siblings to achieve every and anything, he was proud to know he successfully passed this test. But what he wasn't happy about was that he found out a month later???? ON ACCIDENT??? He was just strolling through the manor when he heard giggling coming from the kitchen. Seeing you seated on the stool, across from the isle was Jason preparing dinner. The manor was supposed to be empty tonight since everyone was doing their own thing, Dick was supposed to be with Barbara but had to drop off something for Bruce before heading her way. There was a bunch of chatter on whether you two should tell the others or not. Should this be hush hush? Jason wasn't too keen on people meddling in his business and you didn't mind whatever decision he made. You were willing to keep it under wraps until...whenever, until he was ready. Alfred had already known, Bruce had his suspicions about it but didn't have the heart to ask. He knew how reserved Jason was. He figured whenever Jason was ready to tell him, he was all ears. Dick on the other hand? Not so much─ Did I mention Alfred was there too? He's the one who helped Jason set all this up, but you obviously didn't need to know that, and now Dick was trying to figure out how in the hell he was going to bring this up.

Frequent eye contact. subtle, hidden touches here and there, always so close─ hip to hip. He noticed every little thing, and as much as it swelled his heart to see his brother try to be affectionate for your sake, he was a detective at heart and he had eyes everywhere.

No doubt you two keep it professional but the way you and Jason have been acting lately, isn't the usual behavior he's used to. Missions have been more intense, on the edge, there's more caution and frequent check-ins between you two.

The constant eye contact is what keeps him on edge, and when you think no one is watching a quick brush along the fingers when passing by each other or holding each other's hands till your fingers slide past seemed a little too romantic in his opinion.

But it told him everything.

It let him know something...

"You told her, didn't you?"

He asked in the middle of patrolling.

Currently placed between two gargoyles, they scaled over the streets in search of something major in solving this case.

With his arms crossed, Nightwing was leaned up against the triangular shape roof with his eyes nowhere near his target but on Red hood, who happens to be leaning over the ledge in support of his foot with his forearms rested over his knee.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, his voice modulated a little bit more deeper than usual.

His eyes focused on a particular street. Two u-haul trucks full of cargo brought into an abandoned warehouse by a bunch of goons dressed in all black suits and masks.

The obvious, Black Mask associated.

"You told her you liked her," Nightwing states, trying to clear up the confusion, "didn't you?" He pushes himself off the roof to come a little closer.

"What makes you think that, detective?"

"Because, you two have been acting all lovey dovey lately. I even overheard you two talking with Alfred about last Friday night, date night to be exact? You even made Alfred's most famous chicken Alfredo and garlic bread knots?"

Through Jason's mask, Dick could feel his eyes piercing through his thick skull. Might even be throwing daggers, but either way it was clear he was not happy with him eavesdropping on their conversation, nosey ass. "You think I don't notice, Todd, but I do. I've been watching, I've been paying very close attention to you two."

"Tch," Jason scoffs with a shake of his head, pushing himself off the ledge with his foot now rested on the roof, "so what if I did? What's in it for you? It's not like it's any of your business, Grayson." He renders, crossing his arms to make himself look a little bit more intimidating.

"Because I felt my ears burning like crazy last week, Jaybird," Nightwing claims motioning towards his ears, "and they were hot as hell! You guys were talking about me, huh?" Jason's eyes roll with a heavy, annoyed sigh and Dick put his hands on his hips with a tilt of his head as he gleams, "Let me guess, the doll mentioned how I knew you possibly, maybe, might have a crush on her and vice versa?"

Sigh, "not everything is about you, boy wonder." He moves to the other side of Dick for a closer look at the street.

"Stop projecting and just spit it out already!" He whines in deep agony.

"Hey, a little less chit chatting and a little bit more eye searching, okay? I just saw two more trucks pull up on your 6." You suggest through the coms.

While Dick was thinking upon his next words, Jason took it upon himself to get a closer look. Now in between the dark and wet alley, his steps were silent as he knelt behind the brick wall watching as the men store the boxes inside.

He heard a grappling hook click and then a splash of a landing from a distance, till they came a little bit closer. Luckily the two weren't that close to the warehouse for the goons to hear them.

Silence.

"..."

"Y'all are dating, aren't you?" He presses one more and Jason groans, "Oh for Christ sake, Nightwing, let it go!"

"No, Red, I will not let it go! Just admit it. It'll make my life so much better if you'll just say it."

"What? So you can lavish on the idea that you possibly had something to do with us being together?" He then scoffs bitterly, "Yeah, no, not happening."

Out of habit, you found yourself butting into the conversation and vocalize, "twelve o'clock, babe."

Before Jason could respond the way he wanted to, it took him a second to realize what you just said. A second for him to whip around with wide eyes, hearing a sudden 'oop!' through the coms and a curse underneath their breath.

It dawns on everybody the obvious.

The answer to everybody's question.

And with haste, Dick's jaw drops and immediately his whole body turns to see Jason frozen in place.

"bAbE?!"

Jason's eyes widen as he stands up and expresses, "Doll!"

You make a 'yikes' look cringing a little to the sound of Jason's panicked yet annoyed voice.

"Oop, sorry..."

Feeling a tad bit bad, you were honestly stiffling a laugh at your little slip up.

Though you couldn't physically see him, you were positive his face was flushed right about now and was shaking his head in slight embarrassment as Dick was going off on a little tangent.

Tim, alongside you, could only smirk and chuckle, declaring, "Oh yeah, y'all are most definitely together," before jumping off the roof into the dark alleyway with you following in pursuit.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 ©𝐦𝐭𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[plethorawrites]

How the Batboys would react to finding out and dealing with you self harming/having severe depression.

TW: Mentions of cuts, blood, suicidal thoughts, incorrect use of pills, sort of implied eating disorders.

Please don't read if this could upset you in any way.

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Bruce:

The first time he notices is also the first time you spend the night. The lights were dark and you were both a bit buzzed after downing several glasses of champagne to endure a boring event he invited you to as an excuse to see you. Of course he was more concerned with kissing the inside of your thighs than noticing the little healed scars on them.

He notices them the next morning though, when the sun is streaming through the window and you get up to find your clothes while assuming he's asleep. He wasn't. He saw the marks. The scars. He refrained from saying a word about them, waiting weeks for you to open up about them on your own terms. He could see they were healed so he wasn't terribly worried at that moment.

When you finally told him, you said you'd been clean for months. He had no reason to suspect you would start again.

But you did.

He didn't know the exact day, or the specific reason, all he knew is that you stopped wearing shorts to bed and stopped letting him leave the lights on to see you when you were intimate. You stopped smiling as often, too.

Of course, being a detective, he can tell when you start getting lethargic, not from work or stress but simply life itself. He hears when your words have less meaning, and your expressions are false. He makes it his mission to not let you fall into the spiral any more than you already have.

You might not want to tell him you're hurting yourself but he'd be damned if he didn't do whatever he could to make you stop. That started by holding you tighter at night so you couldn't sneak off to the bathroom to cut, he'd ask you to visit him at work, insist on every meal being at a restaurant so you didn't even have time to try to hurt yourself. And of course, he helps with the tasks you start struggling with, but pretends he doesn't notice.

He just says "Can I practice braiding your hair so I can help Cassandra?" and use it as a chance to make sure you don't start letting your hair tangle.

He even makes the braid a bit crooked even though he can French braid perfectly, just to sell it. He'll wash it, too, claiming it's: "A good excuse to spend time together." after a long day.

He just wants to make sure it's not getting greasy. He can see the guilt on your face when you sit in the tub, staring at the wall. You wanted to tell him to stop, that you could wash your own hair. But you probably couldn't. It felt like too much work and you just wanted to sink underneath the water of the tub for a few minutes of peace. He kept you upright though, kissing the back of your shoulder, the side of your neck, your cheek, making you hum.

You weren't able to feel much, emotionally speaking, but you could feel gratitude and love.

When he notices you skipping meals because you can't drag yourself to the kitchen or bother to cook, he will. He'll make anything, even if you change your mind about what sounds good and make him cook six different dishes before eventually accepting one of them. He doesn't care. He just wants you to eat. The second you show the slightest bit of interest in something, anything, it's yours. You make a comment about the beach sounding nice, the next thing you know he's taken the day off work and is driving you there with the top of a convertible down.

You say you kind of miss one of your old hobbies— be it painting or crochet, it doesn't matter what, the next day the nicest stuff for you to get back into it arrives. Fresh paints, massive canvases or imported yarn and crystal hooks. He watches, intently when you start to focus on something you like again, the heavy ache in his heart subsiding when he gets to show enthusiasm about your project when it's done.

You start holding him again at night, your face buried in his chest instead of sleeping facing the wall. One night you slide into bed wearing shorts and he can see your scars, red ones among the old faded pale ones from when you first met.

He knows they'll heal too in time. Just like you have.

---

Dick: He doesn't realize there's anything wrong several months into dating you until he catches you taking some pills when he was walking back into the room and later searched up the name, figuring out they're antidepressants.

He can't believe he didn't see it sooner and hates that you were always putting on a fake smile with him. He wants you to talk about it, but understands that it's hard for you too and your every attempt to open up to him ends with you in tears or walking out in frustration because the words won't form.

He suggests (very strongly) that you see a therapist and after some gentle coaxing, you agree. He sits in the car the entire time waiting for you and when you come out, numb for a few minutes as you sit there in silence before sobbing uncontrollably for the 20 minutes in the parking lot. He gets you whatever you want after— ice cream, cheesecake, brownies. Whatever you're craving.

He takes you every week, sometimes multiple times a week. He never complains and he's ALWAYS there. He'll wake up early, even if he barely slept. He'll skip family lunch, he'll rush out of a bank robbery just shouting for his brothers to handle it without him. It doesn't matter what, he'll be there.

He's taken to heavy positive affirmations, as well. He puts sticky notes up in the bathroom with smiley faces for whenever you brush your teeth or put on moisturizer. There are little hearts and words of encouragement on the front of the fridge and inside of it too for when you manage to crave a snack. Hopefully something healthy like fruit, but even if it's junk food, it's better than an empty stomach.

Every morning he wakes you up and tells you you're beautiful and he's grateful to have you.

He likes to remind you not to push yourself as well. "If you just manage to wash your hair, you'll have done something" and "If that's too hard, I'll help you make the bed." But also..."If you don't do anything at all today, you still survived. That alone is difficult, but you're doing it."

Every night he lays it on even thicker because he knows it gets harder at night. "I'm so proud of you for making it through another day." And... "I know it sucks right now but I promise I'll help you get through this." And... "Just take it one day at a time."

When you get homework from your therapist— to do 3 hard tasks over one week, make a list of every negative and positive thought to see them out loud and deduce why you have them, physical exercise—he does it with you. No matter how foolish or seemingly simple it is.

Your therapist told you to do something you struggle with? Done. He'll stand behind you while you do the dishes and help you dry.

You need to get something from a store that's dozens of miles away? Road trip. He'll buy the snacks and take turns driving so you don't het stressed out burn out.

You're told to get some physical exercise? He'll be your partner for whatever kind you want to do. Jogging in the park, keeping a slower pace than usual for you, practicing on rings while you climb the stairmaster—he falls, because he's distracted by your ass. But that's besides the point.

When you start to show signs of feeling better, that therapy is working, he's elated. And after several months and things are better, much better, you tell him whenever you're feeling off. Whenever that nagging feeling comes back over you. You guys work through it then and there to keep it from getting bad again.

Though sometimes, when he's leaving for work, you'll pout and say you feel sad just to get him to stay. You both know it's not a depressed feeling. You just don't want him to leave and he'll indulge you. "Oh, well, if that's the case, I'll just have to stay in bed with you until you feel better."

---

Jason: He's busy. Always. But that didn't mean he was oblivious. Yet, that's exactly how he felt when he realized you'd been abusing your medicine. He knew after the first few dates that you were on medication for chronic depression and he was more than understanding about it. Millions of people suffered from it, himself occasionally included.

But when he's laying in bed and catches you sneaking into the bathroom to take three more pills than you're supposed to, he's caught off guard. Then you slide down to the floor, sitting crisscrossed, making small cuts on your thighs, wincing in pain the entire time. It takes every ounce of self control not to jump out of bed and rip the blade from your hand. He contemplates it, he really does. But that would just make things worse. So he waits.

It keeps him up all night, though he pretends to sleep. And in the morning, you're back out of bed, taking more and sliding back in bed, pretending to wake up just like him.

He blames himself entirely.

He thinks he should have been better, done more, noticed something that made it better. It was his job to support you and protect you and he had failed and that killed him in ways that seemed unimaginable.

After an incredibly difficult conversation where he confesses to knowing you've been filling scripts you don't need and taking more than necessary, you're both an emotional mess. But he assures you he's not leaving or angry, just scared for you. He wants to help but needs you to let him.

He absolutely dedicates himself to keeping you away from anything even remotely dangerous.

The knives in the kitchen? Gone.

Even the butter knives are plastic now.

The razors in the bathroom? Thrown out in a trashcan outside so you couldn't find them.

Even the little blade in the pencil sharpener is taken out.

He won't let you have your pill bottles either, at least not at first. He makes sure you take them everyday, morning and night, then after several weeks starts to let you handle them by yourself.

He still sneaks out of bed to count them and make sure you weren't taking more than prescribed. He insists on being the one to wrap your arms, cleaning them to make sure they don't get infected. And wiping your legs as well. He has to remind himself not to squeeze them too hard, the way he wants to.

While holding you at night he makes sure not to hurt them, even though he wants to hold you much tighter to comfort himself as reassurance you're alright. He listens, late at night when you're whispering to avoid crying. When you explain the feeling it gave you. He knows it.

Once they heal and he can hold you tighter, not as afraid of hurting you by squeezing your thighs the way he likes to. He starts kissing them each night, making sure you know they're not embarrassing or shameful.

He's got scars on most of his body; you were the one to teach them to appreciate them. If he could return the favor, he would. A thousand times over.

He tells you the same things you told him. "You made it through."

---

Tim: When you tell Tim, and by tell I mean confess after he figured it out on his own, you're surprised to find that he doesn't have much of a reaction immediately. He stays quiet, hums a little, nods along. He never interrupts but you see his eyes glazing over a bit, the way they do when the gears start turning in his head. He knew, of course, that you had depression.

He knew you hurt yourself, not in the traditional way of cutting or attempting suicide, but in much subtler ways, like forcing yourself to finish a meal even though you're full and your stomach hurts, taking boiling hot showers that leave your skin red and raw practically painful to even touch from how dry it is, making yourself stay up late and function on the fewest hours of sleep possible.

You purposely made life harder for yourself and for the most part, didn't even realize it. He did, though. What he didn't realize was the amount of medicine you'd tried, to the point you felt none of them worked, the amount of therapists and psychiatrists you had seen, the level of depression you had truly sunk to before. It hurt him to realize once you started opening up. He wanted to make that pain go away. So, he researched. Constantly.

He wants to know every single thing that can cause depression, the statistics of self harm leading to suicide, the effectiveness of different treatments or facilities. He knows every antidepressant, their side effects, their manufacturers, and dosages. He suggests inpatient care for you, but absolutely refuses to send you to someplace like Arkham.

Instead, he finds the best of the best, way out of the city, where the entire staff passed his background check, the facility was up to date on every code possible, and the rules seemed relaxed enough to let you feel like yourself while also making sure you're safe. He's allowed to visit and does so as soon as possible, even manages to get extra hours in the night. You have the best of care there, too, he knows because he can see it on your face every time he's there.

The food is wonderful, the private room you have is nice (even if you miss his warmth at night), the activities they make you do remind you of the hobbies you used to love before they became unbearable. Even therapy sessions, always private because Tim knew you wouldn't want to speak about it in a group, are rather helpful.

When you get out after a few weeks, he's right there, waiting, like always. And he's got the biggest smile because he can see immediately the light back in your eyes that he missed so much. He keeps up with some of the tactics you learned or hobbies you started while there, gladly sitting on the floor with you while you do paper mache.

He always makes sure you know you're not weak for needing help and if you ever feel like you need to go back, even just for a week, or weekend, he'll be there for you. Just like always.

---

(Aged up. I imagine you both in LOA)

Damian: It didn't take a genius to know you were a miserable person. Most people in the league of assassins were. He rather liked your level of misery, usually. It was cynical, with a touch of wit and dark humor that always made him feel seen.

It wasn't until he caught sight of a few scars on your calf that he didn't recognize that he started to realize you were more miserable than he had originally thought. You tried to play it off, claiming you got hurt in a sparring match. But that was a lot and he knew it. Because A) you never lost. And B) the cut was at an angle a sword wouldn't be able to reach unless you were the one holding it.

You clearly didn't want to talk about it, so he wouldn't make you. He was always taught that emotions were weak and even though he didn't fully believe it as he used to, he still isn't big on a lot of sentimentality. Which is fine, because you aren't either.

He still keeps a quiet, very close eye on you. Maybe you noticed, maybe you didn't. He wasn't sure. He didn't care either way. He was worried and with your recent behavior, he felt he had every right to be. You started putting in less effort during training, if you even showed up at all. He'd find you on the balcony at night, leaning your head against the railing and staring at the gardens with a blank expression.

Even the things he knew you loved— your favorite foods, the music you liked to listen to on a record player while you got ready for bed. It stopped appealing to you. The meticulous way you'd fix your hair before bed every single night abruptly stopped, too. You simply fell asleep with it as is and woke up with it tangled. You still held him at night, but it felt less like an embrace for the both of you and more like you were clinging to him like a life line.

He pays extra close attention and anytime he isn't allowed to be by your side, he makes sure someone else is. It's hard to keep you away from sharp objects, given nearly everything around them was a weapon, but he tries to get you to vent your rage by cutting training dummies and not yourself.

He also takes you to the quieter, more secluded wing, into an empty room with pillows on the floor. He makes you sit with him and meditate, which he knows is hard at first, boring and you don't have the most energy, but he holds your hand, his fingers pressed to your pulse to make sure you're listening when he tells you to take a deep breath in and think— not of what you're grateful for, like some might suggest. No. Instead of asking you what you want to live for, he asks you what you can't die without. The grudges you're holding, the projects you haven't finished, the people who are just waiting to see you fail. He won't let you let them win.

And it works. That passion and drive slowly comes back with his help and support at your side, doing your hair for you at night and making sure someone brought you a meal three times a day even if he wasn't around to make sure you ate. Your need to be the best and spite anyone who thinks you aren't returns after a while.

One night he finds you training alone, sweat dripping from your brow, your scars both won in battle and self inflicted on display. Instead of interrupting, he simply watches, admiring your form which had improved since you started picking up your sword more often. He loved watching you find your spirit again.

[frownyalfred]

OP I think you've said you're from the Midwest 🤔 ? (If not please ignore)

What would be 5 Midwestern dishes Clark and Ma Kent would present to Bruce Wayne that would make the latter have a conniption?

(A conniption from like actually experiencing a hearty meal or a dessert that leaves him in a sugar coma. But one out of love ♡. Clark with make Bruce gain some weight with meals and not just muscle, if it's the last thing he does )

I will (gently) challenge the parameters of this question. When people think of ridiculous Midwestern food, 9 times out of 10 they're thinking of something Minnesota made up. And while it might not seem like it, there's a HUGE difference between Kansas and those freaks in Minnesota (said lovingly).

Midwestern food, when it can be generalized, tends to be hearty meat-and-potatoes style dishes. Grilled meats in summer, chilis and casseroles in winter. Fresh vegetables in the growing seasons, and potatoes + onions in winter. The desserts are where things tend to get more region-specific.

But in answer to your actual question -- I think Bruce's stomach can only handle so much rich(er) Midwestern food because of the high dairy and fatty meat content. If you're working on maintaining a lean(er) physique like he is, one bowl of chili could really knock you out for a few days.

Personally, when I'm cutting and I'm eating whole foods for weeks and weeks, the first time I have something like that, it's a lot. That's all to say, yeah maybe Bruce should do his dirty bulk at the Kent farm. There's nothing like a great heaping serving of shepherd's pie.

[writing-nothing-but-spilled-ink]

Anyways this thought came to my head now I'm obligated to share

This is an au where Selina Kyle and Bruce actually get married and are in the process of like sharing a life together

Anyways this is a thing I think would be funny if it happened

Bruce is just excited to tell his friend the good news but his friend isn't exactly thrilled it's 2 am and while Gotham never sleeps Harvey dent aka two face is fucking horrified by the. Text he just received from fucking Bruce Wayne, how he got his number he doesn't fucking know the text in question

JUST GOT MARRIED!!!! 🥳🍾🍻🎉 Also totally off topic but I did not sign a prenup btw any idea of what my shares are Selina is asked for some so I gave her some but I don't actually know what they are

Two face just immediately starts blowing up Bruce's phone trying to get that man to answer is a fucking nightmare especially whenever he gets a new partner to spend time with it's like he can't see behind the pretty girl in front of him, he may be the world's greatest detective but when it comes to romantic partners he's the world's biggest idiot especially when he's in love

Finally two face starts falling Bruce and when he finally does answer he's on speaker with Selina in the room

"Bruce for the love of God tell me you had her sign a goddamn prenup, did you even discuss custody arrangements, HOW AND WHY ARE YOU GIVING HER YOUR SHARES WITHOUT KNOWING WHAT IT IS THAT YOU HAVE TELL ME THAT THIS IS A JOKE".

Bruce: I think your jealous of what I have with Selina, I trust her completely there's no need for a prenup, as for the kids they won't be a problem, and that's precisely why I texted you afterall you were one of my closest advisors for years also I thought you'd be happy for me, ya know it's not my fault yo-"

Two face: BRUCE I AM NOT JEALOUS I AM CONCERNED SELINA IS INFAMOUS FOR BEING INTERESTED IN HER OWN POCKETS AND ANYTHING SHINY, AND NEED I REMIND YOU THAT WE AREN'T FRIENDS WE HAVENT BEEN FRIENDS FOR YEARS IDK IF YOUR DRUNK OR STUPID BUT KNOWING YOU ITS PROBABLY BOTH, YOU NEED TO SEND ME ALL THE PAPERWORK REGARDING YOUR NEW MARRIAGE IMMEDIATELY SO I CAN FIX THIS GODDAMN MESS CAUSE I WILL NOT LISTEN TO YOU CRY AND WHINE WHEN THIS BLOWS UP IN YOUR STUPID ASS FACE DOES ALFRED EVEN ONOW OF YOUR STUPIDITY BECAUSE THIS IS A NEW KIND OF STUPID EVEN FOR YOU WORLDS GREATEST DETECTIVE MY ASS

Bruce merely smiles and says you wouldn't be nearly this worked up if you didn't care I knew you were still in there harv I just wanted the proof that my friend still exists I'd like for you to be my second best man at my wedding also you should come to dinner some time the kids they all miss you, and some of them have started to take an interest in the law you were at the top of your field maybe you could point them in the right direction, as for me and Selina while we did elope it has not get been made official so if you really want me to do all this paperwork you must come over for a family meal Bruce then promptly hangs up leaving Harvey absolutely flabbergasted because wtf just happened and how the fuck, wait did he just get fucking adopted by Bruce Wayne, he's a fucking supervillain and he got roped into attending a family dinner..

A moment later his phone dings and he opens it to see a big list of various foods drinks appetizers and deserts with a text at the bottom that says choose three of your favorites from each category and just dress casual or whatever's most comfortable to you it's only a small family dinner please email Alfred a list of any diet restrictions or food allergies you may have it'll be nice to have you over and don't worry Selina has agreed to play nice I know the two of you haven't always gotten along, his phone lights up again with a Gmail account to Alfred pennyworth two face can't argue so he just sighs exasperated and just RSVPs everything and goes in to see the gotham seamstress for something a bit more fancy for this get together and one extra nice suit for the wedding

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Keepsafes

Fandom: Batman, DC Comics

Summary: AU where Martha and Bruce survive, and they adopt the batkids.

Chapters: 22/?

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Harvey Dent, Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, David Cain, Talia al Ghul, Damian Wayne, Jason Todd, Tim Drake

Relationships: Thomas Wayne/Martha Wayne/Alfred Pennyworth, BruHarvey, BruTalia

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Hurt/Comfort, Bruce Wayne is Not Batman, Angst, Alfred Pennyworth Knows All, Bruce Wayne Only Has One Child, Bruce Wayne is Not An Only Child, Bi Bruce Wayne

Chapter Twenty-Two: Difficulty

Once Bruce arrived home, he told Harvey the truth about why he went there, and Harvey squinted at him. “Bruce, that sounds dangerous,” Harvey whispered. “How do you know you didn’t damage your organs permanently?” 

“I’m fine. Some of my blood test results were slightly elevated, but I’m fine,” Bruce whispered as he slipped under the blankets. Harvey swallowed hard and lay his head back on the headboard. 

“Bruce, I—. Shit… Bruce—? Can we talk about this?” Harvey stammered.

Bruce lifted his head. “I don’t really want to make a thing out of it. It’s over,” Bruce whispered, “Do you not want to do this tonight?” 

“I mean, yeah… I do, but I—.”

“Please. It doesn’t have to be a thing,” Bruce whispered, “I’m okay.” 

“Okay, but I—.” Bruce shushed curling his lips around Harvey’s cock. He gently bobbed up and down once before taking Harvey’s length in his mouth. “ Jeeesus Christ… Did you get better at this?” 

Bruce lifted his gaze to meet Harvey’s eyes, and he gagged on it. Bruce shut his eyes tight as Harvey held his head in place. He let go, and Bruce sat up. “Don’t cum yet. I want you,” Bruce panted. 

**

Bruce kissed Harvey's collarbone. “I’m scared, Bruce,” Harvey whispered.

Harvey paused, waiting for Bruce to say something, but Bruce just kept kissing him. “One more—.”

“Bruce, I said I’m scared,” Harvey interrupted. 

“Of what?” Bruce questioned. 

“It’s getting dangerous, Bruce. It was one thing when you were learning how to fight and renewing your first aid certification. Now, you’re doing things that could get you killed,” Harvey answered. Bruce rolled onto his back and sighed. “I love you, and I respect that you get comfort from preparing for the worst… But I hate this. I hate the idea of you getting killed doing something you don’t—.”

“Would you rather I not tell you?” Bruce snapped. 

“I don’t want to fight with you. I love you, and I know this is how you get all the bad thoughts in your head to go quiet. Baby, look at me. You’ve got to get help before this gets out of hand. I’m not going anywhere, but I want—.” 

Bruce rolled out of bed, planted his feet on the ground, and shook his head. “You have no idea how hard it was for me. All those appointments. All those teachers put me in the fish bowl and kept me away from everyone else. Do you know what the fish bowl is? It’s where the Academy puts all their sick kids. Before I met you, I didn’t want to be here anymore—.” 

“Seeing a therapist isn’t going to change our relationship, Bruce. You are always going to be my heart… But, I want you to get help. I want you to slow down and see that this isn’t the way to control that anxiety,” Harvey whispered as he got on his knees and leaned over Bruce’s shoulders. “You’re so smart, Bruce. Can’t you use that brain of yours to help people without endangering your life?” 

Harvey kissed Bruce’s cheek. “You want me to go to Dr. Paterson again… Don’t you?” Bruce questioned. 

“From what you told me, I think you liked him… You liked talking to him. Whenever you talk about the bad parts, it’s always how the people at school treated you. I’ve never once heard you say you hated therapy,” Harvey noted. Bruce didn’t answer him. “I started seeing someone while you were gone. I was in a very dark place after you left… And your mom gave me the name of a shr—. A doctor. I think it’s helping. I see her once a month.” 

“You see someone?” Bruce asked. Harvey nodded. 

“I’m working through a lot there, and I think it’s helped… I think I have a lot of darkness inside me,” Harvey confessed. Bruce lay on his back next to Harvey. “Will you talk to someone? For me?” 

“Okay. Give me a kiss?” Bruce whispered. Harvey smiled as he pressed his lips to Bruce’s, parting his lips and allowing Bruce’s tongue to enter his mouth. 

“Do you think we screw more than we make love?” Harvey asked after he pulled away. Bruce chuckled. 

“Is there a difference if we’re already in love?” Bruce asked. 

“When you’re screwing, you’re just horny and want to get off. When you make love, it’s—. God, I don’t know. You can just—. It’s hard to explain,” Harvey answered. 

Bruce stared into Harvey’s eyes. Harvey was serious, and Bruce wanted to carefully consider his answer before speaking. Harvey pushed Bruce’s hair out of his face and smiled. “I always think of it as making love… It wouldn’t feel as good with someone else. I think I like being with you because it’s the closest we can physically get. Sometimes I want to get so close that we’re in each other’s skin, thinking each other’s thoughts… And I feel crazy for saying it,” Bruce whispered. 

Harvey blinked hard, and Bruce broke eye contact out of shame. Harvey climbed on top of Bruce and kissed him. “Good answer, handsome,” Harvey whispered in between kisses.

**

Martha went to the kitchen for a snack and ran into Alfred at the fridge. She walked on her toes before squeezing Alfred’s bottom. Alfred chuckled. “Hello, darling,” Alfred whispered as Martha wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face into his back. 

“You smell so good,” Martha whispered. Alfred placed a hand over hers and smiled. “It’s nice to have the boys home for the holidays. Isn’t it?” 

Thomas came downstairs scratching his head. “Martha, are we still hiring yoga instructors to teach classes at the clinic during the week?” Thomas asked. 

Martha nodded as she reached for his hand. Thomas pulled her into his arms. “I’m gonna talk to Bruce tomorrow morning,” Martha whispered. 

“What about?” Thomas and Alfred asked at the same time. 

“He didn’t do anything. I just wanted to tell him that we started seeing Dr. Watkins after he left,” Martha explained, “I just want him to know what’s going on and that we’re doing alright.”

“Oh okay. And I um—. I’ve given consideration to what you’ve both asked, and I’m open to it. To trying… I just—. I’m going to be honest and tell you that I’m feeling a little self-conscious about the whole thing,” Thomas confessed. 

“What are you self-conscious about, hon?” Martha asked. 

“Two bodies is far different than three… And we all ask different things of each other,” Thomas whispered, “And I don’t know what goes on between you and Alfred in the bedroom.”

“I know you, Thomas. I know what you’re like in bed, and I’ve—. I’ve seen you and Alfred together,” Martha confessed. Thomas let go of her and hugged himself. 

“When?” Thomas asked. 

“It was a long time ago… You have nothing to be ashamed of… I think your bodies together look beautiful,” Martha whispered. Thomas took a deep breath. 

“I can’t even be upset. I used to ask Alfred about what it was like with you in bed,” Thomas replied, “But I fear that might breed jealousy in me.” 

“Why would you be jealous? You are so attentive and sweet,” Martha whispered. Alfred nodded to agree. 

“Thomas, there’s no pressure, darling,” Alfred whispered, “If you don’t want to—.” 

“Two weeks. I’d like to do it in two weeks,” Thomas interrupted.

[silencespring]

Yes, all of this!

As a Batman fan* there is a complexity that is lost as soon as the question of parenthood comes into the equation. I don't only dislike Good/Bad Dad Bruce being pushed as the 'true' textual depiction** because he is often potrayed as a caricature of what the artist/writer in question presumes Good/Bad Fatherhood to be, rendering him a didactic shell, but because it further flattens his relationships and characteristics into Dad Category and Partner Category. He has Dad relationships with people the fandom has decided are his kids (which includes all characters that are younger than him) and he has stereotypical Dad traits, and he has Partner relationships with whoever the fandom ships him with and stereotypical partner traits. Neither of these convey who his character actually is.

He's a sidenote, and while it's certainly refreshing to have conversations around other characters in a series dominated by and centered around Batman, I find myself wanting on both sides. Not because I dislike other characters (i love u batgirls please forgive me), but because the 'Batfamily' fandom is basically committing the same sin as all the other conversations surrounding Bruce. Whereas most other sites are focused on how cool the concept they believe to be Batman is, and are very resistant to talking about themes, motifs, and other literary elements due to the fact that they have not read a thing on him and have discussions based on hearsay, the Batfamily fandom is also focused on how cool the concept they believe to be Batman is, and are very resistant to talking about themes, motifs, and other literary elements due to the fact that they have not read a thing on him and have discussions based on hearsay. The difference is what that belief is; the majority thinks he's the epitome of hypermasculinity, and basically the Punisher but smarter than everyone and can do no wrong, whereas the Batfamily fandom side thinks he is a dad with all the stereotypes that come with a dad, whether that be Good Dad (supportive, doesn't know anything about technology, doormat to his kids) or Bad Dad (literal Satan, hates his kids, adopts them with the intent to abuse them). They completely erase his character, which is sad, because he is an interesting character in his own right!

*I know and I'm sorry. I also love the Batgirls if that gives me redemptive points.

**I don't mind fanfic or art; I, like yourself, purely critique the users that say anything besides their interpretation is textually incorrect, which, when you're a character that's been around for nearly a century you're bound to be both and neither at some point in someone's eyes

If it helps at all, I've never gotten the impression that you hate (or even dislike) Bruce. In fact, I usually get the impression that you have a pretty deep appreciation for every character I've seen you discuss. I really appreciate that your approach to meta analysis seems pretty balanced and fair to all of them, even when you're criticizing them.

Do you have any thoughts on the fandom flanderization of Bruce into the sweet, openly demonstrative flawless father of many? Because it makes me absolutely rabid (and, frankly, probably colors my feelings about him, because it makes me want to hyperfocus on instances when he's a terrible dad)?

I would ask your feelings on the flanderization of Cass, but I think fandom Cass is actually just a black hole of absolute nothingness moreso than an exaggerated parody of her actual self. There's almost nothing of her left to analyze. Flanderized Steph at least has happiness and waffles, as meager as that is. Cass is just sort of... there. Sometimes.

This is really nice, thank you <3. I just find conflicts more interesting when it's not 'one side is completely wrong'. Idk with a medium like comics (where you can read most characters' internal thoughts), it's especially fun to seek out every characters' motives and try to understand them.

As to your question, I don't hate Good Dad Bruce on principle - for many people fandom is escapism, I totally get people wanting cute fluffy father stuff. It's when people claim Good Dad Bruce is the only correct interpretation, and that everything else is OOC or 'bad writing', that it becomes a problem. I think a lot of people (myself included) like the Batkids, so it pigeonholes Bruce into the 'father figure'. Good Dad Bruce is not interested in Bruce Wayne, but only Bruce-as-father-to-my-fav. It's unfortunate because at some point it's not Bruce anymore. He's a character so deeply informed by trauma, glossing over his trouble with expressing affection and parenting reduces him into a really empty character.

Good Dad Bruce and Bad Dad Bruce are two sides of the same coin, an unwillingness to engage with Bruce's complexities as a person. It's not as insidious as 'angel Cass' / 'normal Duke', but perfect Bruce is an example of fandom being unwilling to let certain characters mess up before just demonising them. He's either perfect or irredeemably evil. A lot of fandom skews young too, so I think there's an element of struggling to humanise a parental figure. It's a shame because Bruce's good dad moments work better when you do recognise his flaws. Those moments in comics are all the more sweet because they're not constant, because it's Bruce struggling with himself to give his kids the love they deserve. Acknowledging the struggle makes him a better parent to me, honestly (just because it shows it's not natural to him, he has to try really hard).

So yeah I agree with you, and honestly Good Dad Bruce ruins the characterisation of almost all the other Batkids (Cass and Jay in particular). Hope that answers your question! As bad as Good Dad Bruce is nothing is touching therapist/angel Cass for how much it raises my blood pressure!

[demonicsuffrage]

You pretty, He ugly

You swan, He frog

[dukeofthomas]

I find the fact that the confrontation at the end of UTRH is often summarized as Jason asking Bruce to kill the Joker for him fascinating.

Because that's not what happened.

Jason holds a gun up to Joker's head, gives Bruce another, and tells him that if Bruce doesn't do something (shoot Jason), he will kill Joker.

Jason doesn't give the gun to Bruce so that he would shoot Joker. He isn't expecting Bruce to pull the trigger on the clown. He's asking Bruce to do nothing. To be inactive. Because that will still be a choice, and despite having done nothing, everybody clearly agrees that Bruce would still, at least in part, be responsible for Joker's death.

...And to me, this moment is a kind of- microcosm, of the rest of Jason's point. Because after being captured and carted off to Arkham, the villain will escape again, and will kill more people. The only way to truly prevent that from happening would be to kill them; Bruce refuses to do so, and I respect his right to choose such a thing for himself, but it is still a choice, and if we agree that Bruce's inaction during the confrontation would leave him at least partly responsible for the Joker's death, then we must also agree that his inaction in permanently preventing the Rogues from killing more people means he is also, partly, responsible for all of those deaths.

[brainmuncher]

The emergency

A good number of members within the Justice League have children. Not all of those kids are biological or adopted but they are their kids nonetheless. Some of those kids are even old enough to be adult heroes of their own, but even then they are still their kids. And the other kids tend to take up heroism at a very young age to most people's chagrin. Although as shown by the original child hero, now going by Nightwing, it’s not as easy as telling the kids to stop.

It was learned through intense hardship that smothering the child heroes was just asking for trouble. Despite how much the older heroes wanted to stay close to their kids, it was seen as overbearing and a show of mistrust. They would act out with even less backup in retaliation, which would only bring even more stress.

So to satisfy the need for protection without stepping on any toes, two new emergency meeting signals were introduced.

One was for the kids to send off. Each one was gifted a small device that could be hidden in their person. The device had both a mic and a tracking chip that could be activated when they were in extreme danger. As soon as the device was active a signal would be sent to the league for an emergency distress signal with the details of who sent it. Due to an outcry from the kids, the device could not be activated by the guardian of the child. The mic and locator could only be activated from the device itself. It wasn’t nearly as protective as some of the more worried leaguers would like, but it was at least something. 

The second signal was one that the leaguer with a kid in danger could activate. This signal could be activated with a single code into the communicators that every member owned. If the member who sent out the signal didn’t specify what kid was in danger, every member would receive a generalized notification of the emergency alert for one of the kids. This wasn’t ideal, but it was learned early on that the guardian of the child was often too distressed to make the code more complicated. It was best to leave it simple and answer questions at the emergency meeting.

Which was great in all, until someone who doesn’t have a child involved with heroics in their care sends off a general emergency.

In places all over the globe, an emergency meeting signal message was sent by Hal Jordan, one of the lanterns. He didn’t include what child was in danger in the signal, meaning that it could be any of the underaged heroes. And considering he didn’t have a child in his care, that made multiple members panic.

When was the last time they checked in with the kids in their care? Who was the one he was sending the code for? What happened to the child he had noticed was in danger? Why is he the one that noticed? Where were their kids? Who was in danger?

Because of the nebulous nature of the call, it didn’t take long for multiple heroes to find the nearest transport to the watchtower and tumble in. What they didn’t expect was the absolute haggard appearance of their friend. He was standing in the meeting room looking like the world had been destroyed before his very eyes. The way he sat without even cracking a sarcastic remark made multiple members pause.

“Hal?” Wonder Woman called, her face pinched in concern. “What has happened?”

The aforementioned member looked over who had already arrived before settling on her face. It was at that moment she knew that he was only looking so collected through willpower alone. This wasn’t just any child of the league, this was personal.

“My nephew Danny has been captured,” He began, sending a wave of different emotions circling the room. “I’ve been trying to find where they took him for a week now and I can’t get any leads. I need your help.”

The unsaid questions and emotions were nearly palpable. Multiple members turned to one another or stared with a million questions. Nobody had known that Hal even had a nephew named Danny. Sure he mentioned someone named Jason at times, but he never indicated anything else. The fact that he hadn’t mentioned him or the fact that he’d been apparently searching for a week was strange.

“And why are you only telling us now? Why did you wait so long?” Superman asked, speaking up the question that was on multiple minds.

A fire of anger curled in Hal's eyes. It was fierce and protective. It was a mixture of appalment for being questioned on his decision and fury for the reasons why he had to do it in the first place. He stepped forward towards the center table, slamming his palms down and leaning into it.

“Because any person that goes against the group will be declared an enemy of the United States. I’ve already had my account and housing connected to Green Lantern seized,” He explained with a deceptively calm tone. “I also needed to make sure that they didn’t have any connections with the Justice League. They have their agents everywhere.”

Unsurprisingly, Batman appeared from the gathered heroes from seemingly nowhere. Despite the feud between the two of them, the Bat was completely zeroed in on the situation. While he had a decent amount of distrust in the lantern, mainly because of the parallax incident, he could tell that the man was genuine. And the Bat always did have a blind spot for children.

“Explain,” Was all Batman said, staring Hal down.

The lantern in question looked at him with a grim face. This was it. Now or never.

“They’re called the Ghost Investigation Ward, or GIW for short. They hunt down and either exterminate or experiment on anyone they deem ectocontaminated or a ghost,” Hal started to explain, his hand curling on the table in frustration. “My brother Jack faked his death and ran off to be with another woman. Those fucks deemed my nephew as ectocontaminated and tried to take him from his home. He ran from his family so that they couldn’t be arrested for knowingly harboring an ecto entity. Told me that he remembered my face from a photo his dad tried to hide in the attic and sought me out.”

If the fire in his eyes were any stronger, they would probably become physical and burn down the room. It was undeniable that Hal Jordan was understandably completely pissed off. This situation was terrible from down to the very root.

“I tried to hide him but they somehow found him anyway. Now my civilian name is being heavily monitored and Green Lantern is being hunted down,” He finished his explanation. “If you join me in this, be prepared to lose everything.”

This was so much worse than anyone could’ve predicted.

[welcometogrouchland]

Disgustingly messy and crusty sketch dump but I couldn't get my own terrible theory out of my head and ended up making a bunch of sketches about it. Also at the end a bonus dickbats and Damian doodle bc I was reading an issue of their Batman and Robin run (IDs in Alt)