#batman but not quite

[justbagworm]

You know that one post about how Bruce Wayne is desperately trying to get rid of his money, but everything he tries to throw it at always somehow winds up making him more money?

I just imagined a Danny Phantom-esque twist on it:

Imagine Lady Gotham, the City Spirit of the City of Gotham, is trying to help Batman. She doesn't really have the best grasp of that, though...

Like, consider what her reference material is. Her domain is a place that, at various times and in various canons, was cursed by witches, has miles of cursed caves under it, emits the madness tone, sits above a Lazarus Pit, is controlled by a council of murderous bird cosplayers, and collapsed after a literal plague weakened already-poor infrastructure around the same time that a catastrophic earthquake destroyed any and all ability to get into or out of the city. Not to mention Gotham's historically atrocious track record of bribery, blackmail, slander and libel, murder, etc, etc, etc.

So, suppose for whatever reason Lady Gotham takes a liking to Batman. Maybe by bringing criminals to justice he's setting ghosts to rest, or something. So, in return, she decides to help him. She notices that he has a habit of dumping exorbitant sums of money into charitable enterprises. With Lady Gotham's limited and deeply, deeply flawed pool of reference data, it would be fairly easy to make the assumption that Batman is attempting to somehow launder money or build illicit sources of income.

Thus, Bruce Wayne's drive to squander his wealth on charitable donations (a respectable enterprise) is foiled by a City Spirit who makes sure that those investments succeed and return to him sevenfold! Because isn't the Bat so cute when he's crying over tax paperwork?

Additionally, imagine the day Bruce finally kicks the bucket, he meets Lady Gotham on the other side. I imagine the conversation might go something like this:

Lady Gotham: Welcome to the afterlife! Congrats on your money laundering schemes, by the way! You have some mad skills! I hope you don't mind I helped out a little :3

Bruce Wayne, staring at an eldritch entity with a sense of deep, parental dread: What do you mean, money laundering?

For additional hijinks and flavor, you might also consider the concept that, since Bruce was born in Gotham, Lady Gotham has a stake in his soul, so she can help him from anywhere. Thus, decisions made as Batman also benefit Bruce Wayne. Suddenly, The Watchtower is affecting Bruce's tax writeoffs in a way that makes any accountant Bruce shows it to faint and forget they ever spoke to him...

[panakina]

I think it’d be funny if Dick and Jason, due to wearing bright yellow capes on the job for years, are capable of stealth to a frankly unhinged degree. They barely have to try anymore it’s so second nature. Dick can just completely disappear while in the loudest neon clothes imaginable. Jason is constantly startling people who don’t understand how they missed a guy the size of a fridge standing right there. Bruce is extremely grateful for his unbreakable poker face because they have both startled him by accident and would never ever let him live it down if they knew.

[violent138]

Bruce definitely trained all the Robins to abandon him if things got bad. He'd give them scenarios like him trapped under something in a fire, hypothermic conditions, he's too injured, and they need to get information to Lucius, and the list goes on. And to date, the only bit of training his kids have continually failed, whether in simulation or practice, is failing to leave him behind.

[inkpotsprite]

You just know he picked that up from Jason.

[frownyalfred]

the batfamily getting pulled over and Alfred telling the officer that there’s guns in the car and Jason immediately thinking everyone is narc-ing on him instead of Alfred just being strapped (legally) to high and holy heaven is still SO funny to me (and it’s my fic lmao)

[sophiasrant]

thinking about a mattpatt game theory style video about the identity of batman in the dc universe.

"We have to assume that Batman makes a certain amount of money to be able to have all of his gear and things like the batmobile. So let's look at the number of millionaires and billionaires that live within Gotham city. From here we can safely rule out all women and the men below five foot eight as Batman is agreed upon as 'fairly tall.' Now we look at ages and knock out people above 50 and below 30 based on how long Batman has been on the job. This leaves a manageable number of people on our list. Some can be knocked off the list manually, like Bruce Wayne. *insert poorly edited picture of Brucie in a costume Batman mask.* We can also successfully scratch out the names of people who have been in the same room as Batman. Then we look at the realistic schedules of the people left...and. No one. Not a single person was left on the list. Of course this list wasn't perfect, but you'd think we'd get at least one candidate. But the best the list got us was Brucie Wayne which... I don't even have to tell you why that's incorrect. Batman's identity remains a mystery but uh I guess that's the point."

[nyerusnova]

yeah... things are pretty yikes right now in the current batfam storyline,

but at least Tim is rocking those thigh-high boots and I just wanted to appreciate that for a sec

[nanaminxs]

Bruce is ecstatic! Why wouldn’t he be? He’s basking in the warmth of his beloved, in the bed of their hotel suite in Vegas.

Bruce had spared no expense in making your honeymoon in Las Vegas unforgettable. The suite was a masterpiece! I mean, floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the dazzling lights of the Strip, while plush furniture and luxurious amenities filled the sprawling space.

In the middle, a very nice sized bed. It’s headboard covered in intricate patterns, and details.

Bruce stood by the window, his silhouette illuminated by the neon glow from outside. He wore a simple black shirt and slacks, but somehow, he still looked like the billionaire playboy Gotham knew him to be. His lips curled into a small, rare smile as he turned to look at you lounging on the sofa, a glass of champagne in hand.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, the way it always managed to send shivers down your spine.

“Too much,” you replied with a grin, swirling the champagne. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I carry the Wayne name now.”

Bruce laughs, pure and genuine. His frame smushing you despite your protests.

“You’ll get used to it.” Bruce kisses your temple, then your nose, then your cheek. And when he gets to your lips, it’s almost needy.

The man plucks the glass from your hand, setting it somewhere on a flat surface before his hands are all on you.

Bruce hasn’t done this before, despite that phony playboy title—you’re his first. He just hopes you can’t tell by the way his hands tremble as he’s pulling your panties off your ankles and letting them fall to the floor.

Bruce kisses you so passionately it makes your head spin, chest tightening because your body craves his touch after so long of not having it.

Two thick digits slot themselves between your legs, rubbing up and down your slit. His touch is gentle, like he’s figuring out what makes you tick.

“Right here?” He questions, pressing the pad of his middle finger to your sensitive bud. When you let out a small gasp and dig a fresh set of nails into his wrist he hums, lips trailing down your neck.

His voice vibrates into the valley of your breasts. “Yeah. Right there.”

He’s so cocky, especially when he’s kissing down your body while his fingers push past the tight ring of your entrance oh-so-slowly.

Bruce is using one thumb to pull one of your pussy lips to the side, as his tongue gives an experimental kitten lick.

His eyes burning holes through your face as he’s gouging reactions—good or bad. He wants to do good by you, wants to make you feel good. So naturally he’s just doing what feels right in the moment.

A long whine falls from your lips like a symphony when his fingers brush against your g-spot.

“Talk t’me. Tell me where—show me how to please you, baby.” Spills from his lips, voice rumbling between your legs.

“Fingers—hah! Right there, jus’ curl..fuckkk..”

Bruce is a fast learner. And you’re embarrassed to say that—just five minutes in, and you’re making a fat puddle on sheets that aren’t even yours.

But the fucker doesn’t know when to stop. He keeps his tongue on you, licking up and down your slit in the softest way possible. Just shy of that sensitive bundle of nerves.

A small hiss from your lips causing him to look up as he’s pulling fingers from you. He presses them to your lips—“Taste yourself.”

Bruce Wayne is gentle. And carefully protected as he’s nervously rolling the rubber down the base of his cock.

Palms press against both sides of your head and you’re both letting out a sigh.

“Bad time to say this is my first?” He mutters out. He’s met with a smile from you and a head shake.

“At least I’m not alone on this.” You snort.

His cock head nudges against slick folds, and he’s kissing you. A way to distance your mind from the stretch as he’s pushing into you. Inch by inch.

With one final soft and needy thrust, he’s burying himself to the hilt.

It’s definitely a struggle to fit him in, even more so a struggle to kiss him back like this.

But there’s something just so intimate about the way he’s muttering softly, “I got you. M’right here.”

But what can be more intimate than the fact he’s literally balls deep inside of you???

He starts slow. Drawing back, then pushing forward. You both moan in sync.

Then continues his tender assault, his cock slipping past gummy walls just to pull out enough for his tip to kiss the ring of your entrance.

Every inch he gives you is a slow torturous promise of what’s yet to come. Bruce revels at the sensation, in the way your velvety walls grip his cock and draw him impossibly deeper.

“Need more.” You tap his bicep, gaining his attention. He grabs your ankle and chucks it over his shoulder, the new angle about to force a protest from you.

“Okay. Like this?”

As he’s sinking deeper, you’re shutting up. Barely able to muster out anything than whines for more. For him. Hell—you’re thinking more with your pussy when you’re begging him to fuck a baby into you.

Oh but he eats that right up, pelvis grinding against your clit with each harsh thrust, a force that makes your back arch off the material under you. He’s excited by the way your body responds to his, hips rocking to gain more friction from his.

He’s not gentle, not as much. But he’s still careful, ensuring that each time the fatness of his length delves into you, it hits that spongy spot that makes you churn.

Bruce fucks you so good, you don’t even realize that after he made you cum—he’d snatched the condom off. But that’s okay right?

It must feel so good to take a break from his nightly activities, especially when he gets time with you <3

[alittlebmblb]

Got a brilliant idea from @decaffeinatedfacestranger

Dick better be careful, Damien's got a new older circus brother with 'Night' in the beginning of his name.

[justwannabecat]

I need fics where Bruce/Dick explicitly tell people that they didn’t let Tim become Robin because he knew, or because of Bruce’s mental state, or even because of the fact that Tim kept coming back.

I need them to be like “Yeah we’re pretty sure he was gonna become a villain before this. We’re honestly pretty lucky that he looked up to us. I mean, he was blackmailing us at age 12, he trained with Lady Shiva, outsmarted Ra’s, fought an evil version of himself from the future where he was a joint dictator with his friends… But he’s a good guy, and we can only hope he stays that way :)”

[acid-ixx]

gets fucking stabbed by damian and my last breath still be like "it's not his fault ! he is ten and was raised to be murderous since he was born ! kid entered a household where everyone ignores my existence, i don't blame him for assuming that to be the norm and acting evil to me so that he assimilates to his new environment ! bro literally went through the worst all his life so of course the way he expresses himself is harmful to others !"

and then i get stabbed again lol

— masterlist !

OH MY GOD PLEASE 😭 the gaslighting yourself is real, i'm telling you.

unfortunately, the reader's toxic mindset of justifying everything your family does is a common scenario for every time one of them fucks up; only in the past though. the present chapters will have you slowly realize just nothing really is ever your fault. that you've never once been in the blame for the actions of your youngest brother.

but right now, i want to focus on why you just seem to let damian go about his own crazy path of targeting you. and it's either it's because you have nothing, nobody else to fight back with you, or it's purely because you allow him to.

to destroy you, to make you suffer, to make you learn that you have no place, or standing in the family. and if you do have a place, it is at the rock bottom.

this is what damian is taught: the weak should be eliminated before they fester into some type of unnecessary cancer.

you're weak, when he first saw you, when you first approached him with your tail tucked behind your legs and an invitation to hang out together with the scent of cookies wafting in the air— he knows that it is you who will make him weak.

you give him temptations to be a child, he's raised to fight against it. he ignores the unwelcomed feeling of wamth that blooms in his chest, those are feelings that gets you killed.

so it's how the story goes: he brings his sword up to your neck, and sways his hands swift enough to make a small cut to ensure that the first thing you associate him with is fear. and for someone vulnerable like you, it doesn't take much before you quickly submit to the prospect of your place beneath a trained assassin like him.

he ignores the sudden pang of his heart and the aching, gnawing dread that chews at his mind at the memory of your widening eyes and the wobble in your steps.

it's already damaging enough to have the youngest be introduced and immediately accepted into the family, but it's worse when he's significantly younger than you, a boy nearly half your age; someone you've always wanted to have, to care for, to help raise and cherish... despises you from the start, before you two even formed a connection.

someone you once called your younger brother, now became an enemy in opposing lines in a place called home.

what would've been fine-tuned jealousy towards him because he was given everything in a silver platter turned into shame that you couldn't even face him, not right after he threatened to kill you, no... and especially not after you've convinced yourself that if you couldn't even prove your worth for a young boy like him, then you really have nothing good to offer.

you give him the autonomy to think it's alright, that due to his upbringing, alongside your naive brain always justifying that your other siblings are right, and you are in the wrong— he was given every opportunity to torment you when you even go as far as being in the same room as him.

and i have my receipts on why you're just like that; all in the grace of low self-worth and self-esteem. past you reasons out that it's because it's always your fault.

you couldn't even find a way to save your mother, you couldn't even establish your place in the manor, you couldn't comfort bruce when he was still not over jason, what more could you be when all you see damian as is a young, broken child like you? that behind that veil of threats and weapons ready to attack you, is someone you knew could've been different, if he was raised right...

if he'd given you a chance to help nurture the softer, more humane part of him.

you've always wanted a younger sibling, not only from back when you were just with your mother, but also when you were introduced to the manor. because not only did it mean that you'll know how your mother felt when she raised you, but because you thought you'd have somebody by your side throughout the silent torment you've went through.

and when you're graced with one, who doesn't even consider you his older sibling; you let it be.

you let him be himself.

damian wayne, demon's granson, the son of the bat.

so many titles he's called, but never one where he's your younger brother.

it doesn't help that you justify his past, because the man you idolize, dick, does so too whenever you try to complain. his excuses are never out of malicious intent to have you suffer further— it's just that he never once actually considered you as important enough to bat an eye on, like how the rest of them treat you.

because you know that even dick has his limit towards the youngest member of the family; he just never reaches it when it comes to you.

so if you have a person allow another to act terribly towards you, but have another, a friend or family, who teaches you that it's not right, who fights by your side; it wouldn't take long for you to also learn how to defend yourself then. you'll gain confidence that you're at least not alone, that your actions are completely valid.

... but if you have an entire family that couldn't even scold the boy for leaving a scar on your neck, who brushes his mean comments about you aside, who isolates you even further with malicious words that you know becomes crueler when targeted at you—

then you have no basis for what is right, and what is wrong.

and that makes your authority, your trust in yourself dwindle like your already crumbling relationship with all the others the further you try to fight back.

that's when you learn what it's like to give up, all over again. if you accept his vidictive insults, if you know your place to turn back if you see him in the same room, if you knew from the start that sometimes trying doesn't equate to succeeding; then it'll at least numb the pain that comes after.

for the entirety of your life from when damian was introduced, that was how you coped—

but your life after the manor, after damian matures and learns softness, about empathy (that he's buried long ago during his training from when he was all but a toddler) on your situation; reading your journal entries because he still felt entitled to due to some hidden, twisted trait of possessiveness... that's an entirely different story.

would you still be as understanding as you were back in the past towards him? would you still force yourself to love the demon you saw as just a little boy? or would damian finally understand that it's too late to turn back time, to correct all his mistakes?

either way, if you were capable enough to change (at least, in his eyes), becoming an independent person (you think, huh? your place is at the manor), then maybe you could give him a chance too, to fix your relationship and build a bridge to an even stronger one.

one where you could finally baby him, like what you've desired. one where he could feel vulnerable, when he learned that it's valid to feel weak— it cuts back to the previous points: you make him weak.

and when he's out to find you after going through every single diary, every entry, after deducing that there's still a small spark in your that'll forgive him if he tries; he refuses give up any sooner if it meant replicating the same warmth he felt when he stood by your presence.

so... you wouldn't want to leave your youngest brother waiting for you, don't you?

after all, it's just like what your entries told him, right? this is what you always wanted, right?

a/n: everyone is entitled to their own feelings about how i portray damian and mc's relationship!!! i love how all of you guys have different conflicting reactions to this. it's all so complex for me, how damian sees you as someone who's weak and makes him weak (he's just a stubborn little guy), and you, who sees yourself in damian, alongside the added desire to just have someone to care for (because you want to so badly honor your mother's memory), and that person also caring for you is ARGH!!?!

i apologize for my long rambles (if anyone wants me to cut back on posts like this, just tell me), i'm sure everyone is anticipating chapter 5 and possibly (soon) chapter 6 (since the drafts, not the final work is becoming too long). but right now, all i could provide are my depictions of the reader's relationship with every member of the family. i love to churn scenarios where it feels like you're actually part of the family so i'm actually manipulating all of you guys to become attached to the characters too, just to add an extra layer of angst, hehe...

[sillysealll]

Felt silly today

[thebat-musicman]

Things that survived 1986

Robin’s classic short shorts costume: ✅

Discowing: ✅

The word fantabulous: ✅

Jason Todd: ❌

[bepoucorp]

trying to remember how i draw them...

[yeesa]

Always (voluntarily) stuck in a JLU chokehold

[frownyalfred]

nicotine addicted Jim Gordon, yes, but imagine him ripping a bright pink vape at a crime scene instead of cigarettes and blowing the most obnoxious, cotton candy-flavored cloud into the air while he’s working the case.

Batman: “What do we know about the victim?”

Jim Gordon, hitting his vape so hard everyone within ten feet feels their eyes water: “…cause of death was asphyxiation.”

Batman: “you don’t say.”