#except with twobats

[tiger-in-the-flightdeck]

Morally grey character who oscillates between villain and antihero depending on their mood, tenderly kissing the scars on their lover: Do they still hurt?

Hero, whacking them with a pillow: You didn't seem to care when you were stabbing me in the first place!

idc if you think it's toxic if you're in an enemies to lovers relationship i think you should be able to look back and laugh about all the times you almost killed each other violently

[knight-says-nanana]

Relationships in gotham city are always some antisocial bitch* and their partner who runs around and goes HEHEHEHEH >:]

*The antisocial bitch will ALSO run around giggling/cackling like an idiot, but only when the proper environmental conditions are met

What’s up with that

[highly-opinionated-ramblings]

I left myself this note, like, a year and a half ago, and I have yet to actually act on it, so. “People who have secret identities who could conceivably find themselves at the same holiday party as Bruce Wayne”, let’s go. 

Feat. Clark, Diana, Barry, and Oliver

Clark: Gotham’s elite often goes out of their way to invite members of the press to their parties, in the hopes of ‘building good connections’- a rather thin disguise for what’s essentially bribery, but hey, at least he gets a really good meal out of it every year. He’s not sure when it started- not like he spends a lot of time writing about Gotham from Kansas- but it’s become an annual thing, somehow. He and Bruce exchange pleasantries every year. Outside of their suits, they’re friendly, but not friends...that’s all that makes sense between a billionaire and a newspaper reporter, after all. Clark almost wishes they were in the suits. At least he’d have a friend to talk to, then. Sometime towards the end of the night, when the people around him are beginning to stumble and proclaim loudly that they really should be getting home, they really shouldn’t have another drink, and he’s wondering how soon it’d be socially acceptable to leave, he feels someone step up behind him. “You should be more careful where you’re standing,” an all-too-familiar voice murmurs in his ear before a quick kiss lands on his cheek, catching him completely by surprise, and then somehow Bruce is practically across the room, approaching some woman he doesn’t recognize with open arms and a friendly grin on his face. He hugs her when he gets there. Doesn’t kiss her cheek, though.

Diana: They actually run into each other quite a bit outside of work- museum galas in DC, charity balls in New York, private gatherings all over the country. She’s been asked on numerous occasions why the two of them have never dated, which, she supposed made sense given the whole ‘playboy’ act. Such a flirt. Before she got to know the real Bruce, Diana hated him. But, of course, things were different now that they actually did know each other. Now that they did know each other, she never hesitated to strike up a conversation with him whenever she needed a break from the other guests. He was actually the first one to warn her about a host who liked to make a big deal of mistletoe, way back in the day. So, knowing each other the way they did now, it really had been a careless mistake of him to stand under the mistletoe and not expect her to take advantage of the opportunity to tease him with it.

Barry: This one’s a little bit of a stretch, maybe, but let’s say local charity event that Barry was invited to, that he in turn invited Bruce to. Neither of them are paying attention- well, Batman is, but pretending not to for Bruce Wayne’s sake- so it’s one of the other party goers who calls them out for standing under the mistletoe. Barry sheepishly protests, but Bruce takes it in good stride, and pushes in close to give him a kiss on the cheek anyway, to cheers and laughs from the other guests.

Oliver: They’re hanging around after a private party at the home of a mutual acquaintance, helping clean up while she’s seeing the last of the guests out, when Bruce gestures over to Oliver and says, “You’re doing it again” “Again? How many of these things did she put up?” Bruce shrugs, holds out the trash bag he’s holding for Oliver to toss the fourth sprig of mistletoe of the evening in, and then gives him a kiss on the temple as he passes by, anyway.

[daedalusdavinci]

"not wanting to lose each other in a big crowd" with either bruharvey/twobats or batbird? (i love reading your stuff sm)

hand-holding touch meme! this one got away from me a little lol hope its still good

Even after years of crime-fighting and dealing with world-ending disasters with the JLA, it astounded Bruce how fast a disaster could happen. One moment, he was standing on the streets he'd grown up on, looking at buildings that had stood longer than he'd been alive. There had been no sign that anything was off, apart from the usual distant sirens and gunshots as he fought his way through Two Face's latest crowd of goons. Everything was business as usual- another night as Gotham's protector. Then, everything went to shit.

It started with a rumble, like the earth itself was waking up. It was so loud it sounded like it echoed through the whole city, further, and then close, under their feet. Then, the CRACK. The ground split. Half of the henchmen were gone before Bruce had time to look around. There was screeching, shouting, alarms ringing all over the city from cars to buildings to sirens. Buildings groaned and swayed. Dust filled the air. All Bruce could see was Two Face's shock mirroring his own across the chaos.

If there was one thing Bruce could say for his city, it was that Gotham was used to a crisis. People were moving instantly. The remaining henchmen didn't even look at Bruce or Two Face before they bolted. Sirens were already moving and lights were turning on as people woke up or ran out into the street. Before the first minute was up, Bruce's comms were crackling to life in his ear, Oracle's filtered voice urgent. "B, can you hear me?"

Bruce tapped the comm, spinning as he tried to take in the extent of the disaster. "Yes. Sitrep?"

"I don't know. The readings I'm getting aren't making any sense. They're-"

Another rumble. Another CRACK. The comms turned to static, sharp and piercing, and Bruce flinched as he slapped a hand up to tap them off.

The streets were flooding with people now, all murmuring, shouting. Footsteps pounded on the pavement in every direction, and Bruce was sharply aware of eyes on him, watching, pointing, calling out. In the span of a minute, everything was suddenly too loud, overwhelming and all at once, too many things and no information and people needed him to have information, they were looking to him, and Oracle, Robin, the comms were-

An arm thrust through his, yanking him suddenly into motion. The grip was strong, firm, ironed sleeves and a rough hand grabbing his own. "Batman, move," Two Face snapped, husky and harsh like smoke pushing through wounds. And then they were running, tearing down the street and ducking and weaving through the crowd.

"Twos, Robin-" Bruce started, and he didn't even sound like Batman, disoriented, stressed, turning instinctively to the man he'd once called his best friend.

"I know," Two Face said. With his good hand, he pulled a flip phone from his breast pocket, flicking it open and punching in a number. "We're going to find them. Can you call one of your fancy hero friends? What about that fuckin' Metropolis bastard?"

He shook his head, trying to clear it. He couldn't panic. He had to think. There was so much screaming. "Comms are down."

"Doesn't he have superhearing?" Two Face asked.

In the end, it was another one of those world-shattering events that Bruce couldn't handle on his own. Gotham was a cursed cesspool of a city, but in moments like these, Bruce was reminded of just how human the things he usually dealt with were, and how human he was. There was nothing he could do except step back and help from the shadows.

The guilt ate at him, but his moment of disorientation had faded fast. The evac centers were overflowing with people, and Bruce wove through the crowds with one hand against his ear, tuned into conversations and murmuring advice between bandaging wounds and calming children. It didn't feel like much, but it was easier when he could see his own children through the crowd, a flash of green and red as Robin crouched by a cot, or yellow as the Signal made children laugh. There were others helping too- Harley murmuring to a distraught mother, Waylon holding an old woman's hand, the telltale chill of Fries near the cots, and someone who looked like Bruce Wayne speaking with a medic. People came together in disasters. At the end of it all, even the worst of them tried to do good.

It was so crowded in the repurposed parking lot, and with his attention split between so many things, Bruce didn't hear Two Face's approach. When Two Face's hand grabbed his, Bruce allowed himself to be distracted, glancing over at his old friend.

Two Face looked rough. His ugly two-tone suit was torn and dusty, patches of his white curls turned grey with ash. His mouth was set in a grim line, and his eyes were tired. Bruce knew he himself had to look the same. Two Face didn't ask him for anything, but Bruce nodded like he had, pulling him along through the crowd as he listened to the heroes talk in his ear.

There were no quiet places in the evac center. No one glanced twice at them as they slipped out into the dusty mess outside, and together, they stared out at the dusty, orange-black sky. The sun had begun to rise, but the smoke made everything look dark and apocalyptic.

"I guess it wasn't a good day for a robbery," Two Face said at last. He sounded tired, but as casual as though he was complaining about rain.

Bruce felt the corner of his mouth twitch. He pulled Two Face with him as he backed toward the outside wall of the building, stopping when his back hit the wall. His gloves left dirty tracks on Two Face's good cheek.

There wasn't anything to say. Two Face's fingers curled around Bruce's hip, and Bruce tilted his chin up towards his face. The voices in Bruce's ear had turned to noise. Two Face's nose brushed Bruce's own, his lips a soft, barely-there graze.

The world continued to end.

[skxtchyghost]

Always wondered. What else Bat ships you enjoy except scriddler?

Hmm lemme think..

Riddlebird

Harlivy

Batjokes

Bruharv/TwoBats

BatCat

Hattercrow

Now, I don't actively ship them like Scriddler but I like the fanart

[ziracona]

I’m going to be thinking about this

One panel of comic for the next 8 years of my life

[t4tbruharvey]

back at it AGAIN with a bruharvey oneshot

[daedalusdavinci]

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4. 55 notes - May 10 2023

Q: 42. Foolish - twobats

Bruce awoke with panic flaring in his chest. There had been a hand on his shoulder. Alfred and the kids knew better than that, and so instinct took over, grabbing the offending arm and yanking. Before he was even fully awake, Bruce had rolled and pinned a man underneath him, an arm drawn back to knock him out. “Wait, wait, wait, Bruce-" Bruce blinked hard, and in the darkness, the details of the figure started to come together. Harvey- or was it Two Face? had one hand pinned above his head, the other raised defensively. "Some way to treat your bedfellows." "Dent,” Bruce breathed, letting his hand fall. He gripped his collar instead, rolling his fist into the fabric. “Why are you here?”

5. 54 notes - Feb 6 2023

Q: 7 couldn't you wait to kiss me at home with bruharv perhaps

He was old, now. Gray confused the line between white hair and dark brown, swept back and fussed with the way Harvey preferred. The skin grafts made his wrinkles look deeper on the left side of his face, clustered across his forehead and around the corners of his mouth. His glasses were sharp and square, perfectly distinguished, and his suit was a loud white and black, paired with a purple turtleneck that fit him nicely. He looked as beautiful as the day Bruce had met him, but settled into himself, finally finding balance as the years turned. Confidence looked dangerously attractive on him, but his smile was as golden warm as ever. “Harvey,” Bruce greeted, reaching for his cane to rise and meet him. “Oh, sit down, Bruce.” Harvey pushed a cup of coffee into his hand, gently forcing him back into his seat. He stooped to press a kiss against his cheek, the tilt of a smile warm against Bruce’s skin. “I just wanted to make sure you got it before it went cold. You’re running over time.”

7. 40 notes - Feb 15 2023

Q: Meaningful gestures 30. "Wow, you really did your research, huh? That's amazing..." is eating my brain because of college!Bruharvey. Like, this doesn’t have to be a prompt but just picture Harv/2-F’s reaction to seeing Bruce do research just to help them. (I can’t decide what would be better, Harv or 2-F fronting in the moment they find out.)

The stack of books on Bruce’s desk feels like an impossible tower, its shadow looming over Harvey the way his father used to during those late nights, clothes disheveled and beer still in hand. Except, it’s not like that at all. It’s huge and overwhelming, terrifying in its size, but its scary because of what it represents- not what it might do. The hit comes before Harvey ever knows he has to brace for it, finding an unguarded place in his ribs and striking straight through to his heart. The air leaves his lungs. His steps stagger. His hands feel shaky and his knees are untrustworthy, at risk of giving out beneath him at any minute. They’re just books. They’re just books. It’s what Bruce does. He inhales knowledge like his life depends on it, drawn to every bit of esoterica he can get his hands on. It shouldn’t matter. But it does.

8. 40 notes - Feb 7 2023

Q: 10) I have never been this sick before I'm sorry did I, haha this is so weird, but did I confess my love for you? f- four times? yeah? haha oh, superbats

Alfred said it was the flu. Not Ivy’s newest batch of toxin, or Tetch’s mind control, or the lasting effects of a JLA fight gone wrong, or even a stomach bug from eating Tim’s latest feeble attempt at cooking while desperately trying to practice to impress his boyfriend. It was just the plain old flu. And Bruce had never felt worse. Alfred said it probably wouldn’t have been half as bad if he hadn’t gone out to patrol in the snow, multiple times, even after being warned not to. Damian said it probably wouldn’t have been half as bad if he hadn’t insisted on testing those antitoxins on himself recently. Jason said he’d slipped a viral strand of zombie DNA into his coffee grounds the last time he swung by, and it was only after Cass pointed out the coffee grounds also would’ve poisoned half the house that he realized Jason was most certainly just fucking with him. Duke said he should probably run the tests just in case, because the freezing batcave would certainly do him a lot of good, and somehow that entirely reasonable suggestion just wound up making Alfred more frustrated than ever. And then Alfred did the unthinkable. He called in the cavalry.

9. 39 notes - May 6 2023

My Riddlebat Recs

10. 39 notes - Jan 12 2023

Snow Day

Ships: Matches Malone/Harvey Dent

AU: Harvey Dent adopts Jason Todd

Word Count: 5,537

Summary:

On cold days, particularly after long nights, there are few things better than a good, long sleep. Especially if that sleep is accompanied by a henchman who’s so much more, and a squirmy teen still freezing from the snow he didn’t dress for, despite Harvey’s warnings.

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