#idk babs

[daydreamerwonderkid]

*Girls Just Wanna Have Fun playing in the background*

Meme reference below cut

[not-another-robin]

jimfred two gay stepdads au. Babs and Bruce are little kids who hate each other's guts. Any takers, any takers?

[beguilingcorpse]

toxic locked tomb crackships that deserve to be explored

babs/coronabeth (one-sided. uncomfortable. deeply unhealthy. they would have to keep it a secret because everyone thinks he’s her cavalier…. except he ISN’T her cavalier. and almost nobody knows. the scandal! the perceived taboo! the way corona would do zero work in the relationship! the way ianthe would murder him if she ever found out!!!)

judith/camilla (the ‘we’re both in love with other people but that’s a sore subject right now’ pity squad. and also they kiss each other about it)

marta/dulcinea (the soldier who’s never been allowed to stop and look at pretty things vs the pretty thing that keeps looking at her. two people who rejected the ones who could have been right for them and have to figure out whatever the hell you do next)

abigail/cytherea (the way abigial historicized and anthropologized cyth’s whole life and never realized that she had the real damn thing right in front of her. like finding a well-preserved fossil only to discover that the dinosaur that left it is still alive and right behind you. scholastic psychosexual murder-flavored bonding)

colum/mercymorn (the bred and built battery of the eighth and the mourning woman who created that culture finally meet. what happens next may shock you! [traumatized sex])

pash/harrow (harrowhark FINALLY decides to take a chance on someone who isn’t literally undead and it’s gideon’s COUSIN??? drama. intrigue. resentment. delicious)

admiral sarpedon/colum (duty-bound servants. scrunkly and normal-pilled. two inconsequential characters who frankly never leave my brain)

alecto/ianthe (i have zero textual basis i just think it would be pretty funny)

[red-velvet-void]

Playing around w brushes :}

[haveihitanerve]

(anon that is writing the split emotions!bruce fic here) YOU ARE GIVING ME TOO MANY BRAIN WORMS

THEY SCREAM WITH IDEAS

SO I SHALL PLUCK ONE OUT AND GIVE TO U

Bruce gets Magic-ed to make others be able to feel his emotions if they make skin to skin contact

He does a bunch of tests to see if he's safe to be around since doesn't know the exact spell he got hit by and eventually Z gives him the green light to head back home

He gets out of his suit and the rest depends on the first batkid that he runs into

Just really want them to be able to feel the love, pride, worry, and fondness he's terrible at expressing (and them [un]subtlety trying to feel his emotions towards them again)

URGH NOOO!!!

Because this could go so many ways... fuck

Zatanna waved the stick around his face one last time, almost colliding with his nose, and Bruce did his best not to flinch. "Its called a wand." She growled under her breath, as though hearing his thoughts, but Bruce wasn't much interested in what the damned thing was called.

He knew she was being so careless on purpose, maybe even hoping she'd accidentally give him a good whack, but Bruce wasn't taking any chances bringing home some dangerous magical curse, so she would do her scans as many times until he was satisfied.

"There." She huffed, sacking back into her chair, and offered him a bland smile. "Completely harmless. I told you Bruce. The only thing this weird ass "curse" can do is warmth." Bruce raised a skeptical eyebrow, as he had done when she'd first told him.

"Warmth?" He echoed hollowly, doubtful still. Zatanna rolled her eyes, smacking a hand to his forearm. Immediately, Bruce felt his blood buzz under his skin, forearms tightening. Zatanna let out a little sigh, smiling at him faintly, but it was more sincere than before.

"Yep!" She popped the p and stood, suddenly more energized. "Just passes over some warmth." Her smile didn't seem all too truthfully, but Bruce doubted her sudden good mood would last if he demanded another check.

"Alright." He sighed, finally standing, and Zatanna tapped him fondly on his chest.

"Just because you have seen the bad consequences of magic does not mean it can't be good." She murmured. "And this is a good one!" She grinned, smile almost too wide. Too mischievous. Bruce's eyes narrowed. He'd seen the expression one too many times on his children's faces to not be wary. "It's been cold in Gotham recently, maybe this will be a blessing for your home." Zatanna distracted innocently, opening the door to impolitely tell him to leave.

"Hn." Bruce hummed back, slipping his cowl back over his head, his gloves following. "Thank you Z." Her smile softened as she leaned against the door, though her eyes still sparkled in the dim glow of the streetlights.

"Anytime B. It should wear off in a few days. Until then, enjoy it." And the door was closed in his face. Bruce huffed in amusement, tugging out his grapple gun and swinging towards the Manor.

"Oracle?" He clicked his back teeth, coms activating. "Am I all clear to head home?" Barbara hummed back confirmation, the familiar and soothing sound of her typing quickly filling his ears.

"Yeah- hey can you swing by quickly? There's a package for Dick and I won't see him until later, I'd rather he get it now." Bruce rolled his eyes but obediently switched routes, running along the familiar roofs that led to the Clock Tower.

"I'm not an errand boy for y'alls love letters you know." He grumbled, even as he undid the hatch and slipped inside the slightly warmer confines of their communication tower.

Barbara grinned at him from the computer, spinning in her wheelchair to roll over to the couch and grab a small rectangular package. "Long day today or why am I being greeted by the Gotham "y'all"?"

Bruce rolled his eyes again, accepting the small parcel and wedging it under his arm. "Hilarious." He grumbled, leaning forward to capture Babs in a quick hug.

She started at the sudden embrace, but quickly relaxed, arms circling around his waist in a known fashion. "Any particular reason?" Her voice was muffled by his suit, but Bruce heard her anyway.

He shrugged, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head before pulling away. Babs blinked, dazed, her hands fluttering near her head for a second, and she regarded him oddly.

"Just missing my kids." He murmured, one leg already out the window again. Barbara waggled her finger in his direction, already over her momentary lack of composure that Bruce wasn't quite sure where it originated from.

"Haven't adopted me yet!" She cried, faux dramatics and outrage. Bruce just lifted the package in response.

"If he doesn't hurry I will." It was an empty threat, seeing as both Barbara was already a legal adult and had a father of her own, but the emotion behind it was all that mattered. Barbara laughed, waving him away.

"Good night B." He smiled, slipping back into the night. His pace to the Manor increased, as Zatanna was right, it had grown exponentially chilly recently, and it was only a few minutes before he'd reached the cave and slipped inside.

"B-man!" Bruce almost jumped, almost, but the subtle flinch was enough to send Stephanie to the floor, cackling with laughter. "OH that's my best moment yet!" She cheered from the floor, grinning up at him as he loomed over her, glowering.

"Good evening." She greeted, sticking her hand up as though to shake, or ask to stand. Bruce rolled his eyes and ignored both, side stepping the child on the floor to place the package for Dick on the bat-table.

Steph sighed dramatically from where she lay on the ground, and shuffled her feet so that she was at a better angle to look at him. "Rough day today huh Boss?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow as he slipped off his cowl, depositing it onto the table as well. "Why are you here Stephanie?" Steph pouted, even going so far as to cross her arms.

"Sick of me already are we?" There was distinct teasing in her tone, but enough vulnerability that Bruce didn't immediately agree. Instead he rolled his eyes again, pretending he hadn't heard the moment of weakness.

"Stephanie I'm afraid you've grown on me. Like a tumor." He deadpanned instead, spinning in his chair once before smacking his feet to the ground to halt it, and leveled a hard look at her. "In order for me to be sick of you, I'd have to remove a piece of myself."

Steph laughed, and if her voice was a little scratchy he ignored that too. She lunged to her feet, using the trick Dick had taught all Robins at some point, and Bruce turned back to the computer as she draped herself across the back of his chair.

She and Dick scared him, sometimes, with their utter lack of bones. They were both limber to an incredible degree, and having lived under Selina's guidance for over a year, Steph was very much catlike in her movements, currently arching her back as she lolled over his chair. Bruce didn't even want to know how she managed to stay balanced.

"Bring me anything fun from patrol?" she asked after a few seconds of silence as Bruce filled out the usual after-patrol forms. He glanced at her, unimpressed. "From patrol?" He repeated, playing dumb.

Steph rolled her eyes. "Oh come on Boss. Don't play dumb. Did anyone have anything fun?" Bruce rolled his eyes(if he did it any more he feared they'd fall out of his head), returning his attention to his spreadsheet.

"You know my stance on taking things from the people of Gotham." Steph scoffed, rolling off the chair and instead taking a seat on the table, lounging across it.

"They're criminals." She pointed out, like they hadn't had variations of this conversation almost once a week since he'd met her.

Bruce sent her an unimpressed look. "By most people's standards, so are we." he pointed out, his usual argument. Steph rolled her eyes, dropping down onto the table, effectively cutting off his access to typing.

"Can we just skip the fight today and go to what you got me?" She asked hopefully, smiling up at him. Bruce frowned at her, tugging his hands back from where she'd flopping on top of them. Her smile widened.

Bruce sighed, tugging off his gloves, and reached into one of his pockets. Steph squealed, sitting up, hands out expectantly.

"This doesn't mean I took it from anyone." He warned. Steph chuckled. "Ok old man- ya bought it. Fair and square. I got it. But you still got something for me!" He had no counter for that, so he reluctantly handed over the small gadget he'd purchased a few days ago when he'd been window shopping with Harley.

Steph stared at the small wad of black fabric, her face lighting up as she unveiled its contents. "Lock picks?" She gasped, looking at him with pure delight. Bruce nodded the affirmative.

"State of the art. I know your old ones are-" Before he could explain his observation and why he'd bought the little treasure for her(a remnant of their Batman and Robin days when she'd dropped little trinkets into the pockets that she'd stolen from criminals they'd apprehended and he started returning the gesture with his own gifts) her arms were around his neck in a hug.

Bruce startled in surprise, and his blood buzzed as her arms came into direct contact with his skin, but hugged her back. Before he had fully wrapped his arms around her though, Steph flinched back, eyes wide.

"What was that." She whispered, breathless, hand clasped tightly around his gift. Bruce frowned, before he realized what she was asking.

"Apologies for not informing you." Bruce apologized. "It's why I was home so late, Zatanna was checking it was nonlethal. I was hit with a spell that makes me exude warmth when I come into direct contact with someone." He explained. Stephanie's eyes narrowed at him.

"Is that what you'd call it?" She muttered, eyes dancing around nervously. Bruce frowned, hand reaching to touch his neck where she'd touched.

"Is.. everything alright? That's what Zatanna said it did.." he repeated doubtfully.

Steph let out a humorless laugh. "Of course she did. Fu-" Bruce sent her a warning look. "Frickin witch." Steph hastened. He nodded, a small smile curling his lips.

"Well, what did you feel?" Bruce asked, curious now. Steph hesitated, hands bunching her shirt.

"i- uh. I felt. Warm." She whispered. "Yeah... I guess. I guess I did feel warm." A small smile tugged her lips. "Zatanna was right. It does provide warmth to whoever touches you Bruce. You provide warmth."

Bruce frowned at the strange phrasing, and the sudden agreement with Zatanna when she'd previously been so vehemently against it, but as Stephanie hesitantly curled up again in his arms, muttering a thank you for her new lock picks, Bruce decided the issues wasn't worth pushing. Not so long as it wasn't bringing her any harm.

-ugh so that did not go in a way i'd planned actually- im not upset about it, it's fine and I actually did want Stephanie and Babs to be the focus of this one because my girls get way too little time with their not-dad for my liking, but it did spiral a little in the middle there and I took a second to get it back on track- anyway thanks/no thanks for infecting me with that little brain bug, but i enjoyed writing it at least!

The entire completed thing :)

in case anyone wants to see more batkid reactions :)

[harveylikestoart]

Duke successfully stealing a cookie from an unsuspecting Jason

Well if bro’s not gonna eat it…

[welcometogrouchland]

ANOTHER SKETCH DUMP! Featuring more of me playing with lineless art. Batman reborn era trio (dick, damian and steph) I miss you...when will you return from war. Also featuring Steph designs bc I've seen ppl dissatisfied w/ her current look, some good mom Talia, and Jason Todd poetry club. Duke is confused not that Jason would start a poetry club but that he'd have such mid poetry opinions. (ID in Alt)

[batboopp]

as much as I love batgirl 2024, I have to admit the lack of Barbara Gordon mentions in the whole series so far, especially with the first arc having such a big theme of motherhood/daughterhood and the things that comes with it, makes me soo sad. Barbara was the first person Cass actually considered as a mother! Barbara, although she wasn’t the best at it at first, truly did try to understand and love Cass unconditionally even when she was separated from the Bat mantle! And that panel where Cass overhears Barbara tell Dick that she doesn’t know how to really care for Cass could’ve been the perfect parallel to the whole “is a Mother just being connected by blood? No, Something more is owed/Being a daughter is more than being connected by blood” lines that Cass says in the last (current) issue because Barbara, though she did not physically bring Cass into this world, has sacrificed SO much for her, and in return Cass gave so much back.

[casscainmainly]

Not to NML post again but thinking about this... thinking about Babs losing her mom figure who was never a mom in the same event she meets Cass... thinking about whether Sarah's death affected any part of how Babs treated Cass... thinking about how Cass calls Babs 'Oracle' and never mom either........

From No Man's Land TPB 5

[moon-ayyye]

Excusing bruce letting his kids be robin because "they would've found a way to fight crime regardless" tells me that nobody should ever leave a child in your care. At all.

When i was 16, i wanted to smoke cigarettes, and i used to go to the mall alone all the time. I could've bought them any time i wanted. Did my dad teach me how to smoke properly so that when i do smoke, I'm aware of how I'm supposed to do it? No! He banned that shit and checked my room every day. Set up a whole system to make sure i never went near cigarettes, and told me the dangers of smoking with first-hand accounts. the main goal of being a parent is protecting your child, not enabling them to harm themselves but excusing it by teaching them how to do said harmful thing more safely.

"Oh, every child after dick wanted to be robin, so bruce had no choice but to let them." No shit?? what child wouldn't jump at the chance to be a superhero? Hell, jason was only taken in by bruce after the ma gunn thing, and he referred to him as robin even then. If i was homeless and starving and got the opportunity to not only get out of a shitty situation but to become a hero. In no world would anyone ever refuse.

"without tim, bruce would've killed himself" if you need a prebuscent child to keep your mental health in check, and having an inexperienced child put themself in harm's way is the only way to prevent you from killing yourself, maybe quit? seek therapy? seek friends?

Kids ALWAYS want to do dumb shit. It's literally what being a kid is. If you can't monitor your kid enough that them sneaking out of a whole manor to fight crime is a genuine concern, then don't adopt.

[farshootergotme]

Anyone else thinks DC should've made Dick and Barbara's relationship be more like Dipper and Wendy's from Gravity Falls? As in "I had childhood crush on an older girl who's now just one of my closest friends"?? Just me? Okay...

[superbat-lmao]

Each of Bruce’s kids fluctuate between full throttle action and I’m-going-to-die-of-boredom inaction. The life of a vigilante ricochets between extreme stress and recuperation.

When he was new to parenting, Bruce had a difficult time adjusting to the cyclical nature of his children’s moods. How much attention they wanted, how to provide it, whether they wanted his input or just for him to listen. It took some getting used to.

Now, he’s a bit better at understanding what his kids need from him. The one that he looks forward to the most, since it’s relatively infrequent compared to all of the other ways his children interact with him, is when they seek him out to sit with him.

Bruce has learned from being called overbearing and invasive that his children don’t enjoy when he encroaches on their space. This has mostly culminated in him becoming a home-body. Rarely leaving the manor if not for work or on explicit invitation. He seldom finds himself in Dick’s apartment, Jason’s safe houses, or any other place his children are staying, unless it’s an emergency.

The converse of that, is that his own routines in his own space have become reliably predictable. A book he’d read early on when fostering Dick had said routines were crucial to establishing a sense of normality for children from chaotic situations. That they were reassuring. So Bruce had allowed himself to become a degree of predictable. Findable across the many rooms of the manor.

Rarely, in the cycles of downtime that all vigilantes used to recuperate, would his children seek him out in this routine.

The first time Dick had come looking for him, plopped down in a chair in his office, and proceeded to work next to him for six hours without saying anything, Bruce had been beside himself with worry. He’d been concerned. Dick was an outgoing and energetic young man, silences with him were few and far between. Or, more often, a sign that something was wrong.

The whole time, he considered broaching the topic, asking what was wrong, but he couldn’t figure out how to ask. Didn’t want to disrupt the quiet.

When Dick had completed what he’d been working on, he’d looked up at Bruce and smiled. Then he’d gotten up from the chair, side arm hugged Bruce, and left his office altogether.

It had left Bruce momentarily stunned.

He’s asked Alfred about it and was assured that sometimes children just needed a quiet place to work and don’t want to be alone. That Dick was fine and not somehow picking up all of Bruce’s worst, antisocial habits. He was glad.

By the time Jason had come around, Bruce was fairly acclimated to “parallel play” as Dinah had put it when discussing Oliver and Roy’s tendency to work on different projects without speaking but always in the same space. Jason was an avid reader and clearly seemed to prefer the library, but Bruce had learned to space out his ventures into his son’s space. To be a reliable presence, but not one that encroached on his privacy.

So it was a quiet novelty when Jason would brave the exorbitance of the manor to join him. Usually, he would read a novel on Bruce’s couch. Sometimes he had a puzzle books instead, sudoku or crosswords. Bruce enjoyed glancing up to see him deep in thought about some of the clues but never asking Bruce’s help in solving it. His boy enjoyed a challenge. And he knew Bruce to be unfairly good at crosswords. He said it took all the fun out of it if you didn’t have to think about the answer.

Tim, of course, was a frequent flyer in Bruce’s office. Invariably, both of them would be cooped up there discussing WE projects or personnel. This meant that if Tim needed to quietly sit next to Bruce for a few uninterrupted hours, it was often when Bruce was supposed to be on bed rest and had instead convinced Alfred to let him sit in the entertainment room. Tim liked one of the chairs the best, wedging himself into the armrest while scrolling on his phone.

Cassandra spent a lot of her time in silence, not needing the words to communicate what she meant. She had turned the concept of “quiet time” into nap time. She would curl into Jason’s favorite couch and drool on one of Alfred’s more comfortable pillows. Bruce liked the way her hair stuck up in the back after being pressed against the lumpy upholstery.

Stephanie was perhaps the rarest sight in the manor, aside from Jason. She had never lived there, even temporarily. The first time she had joined Bruce in silent company it had been with Tim. The two had squished together in the same chair and silently held their phones in each other’s faces periodically before going back to scrolling.

Now, she was more likely to join Cass for a nap in his office. But there had been one instance when most of his children’s hero teams had been occupied at the same time, that they had been in the manor together. She had wandered into his office with colored pencils and clear plastic sheeting, plopped down across from him, and began drawing all manor of colorful things. It hadn’t been a cohesive picture, but several small and distinct pieces. She’d helped herself to a pair of his scissors and cut them out, disposing of the excess plastic in his waste bin.

There must have been a puzzled look on his face because before she’d left she’d told him that she and Damian were making “shrinky dinks” and that Alfred had asked her to make a couple experimental ones to test the oven settings. Bruce had smiled and asked to see the completed creations. The next morning he’d found a small piece of plastic next to the Batcomputer. It was a cartoonish strawberry wearing a backwards baseball cap on a skateboard. One of the strawberry’s “hands” appeared to be doing the hand sign for Y, but Bruce guessed it was meant to represent the shaka symbol. He placed it on the inner door of the locker he used to store post-patrol clothes.

It took almost two full years for Damian to seek him out. The boy was intensely private, but even Bruce was eventually aware of the fact that his son liked to sketch. It had taken a long time for Damian to bring any of his art materials out of his room. Most of the rooms in the manor had multiple exits and were too open to be easily defensible, especially from the prying eyes of his brothers, so Bruce understood why it took so long for him to be comfortable using common spaces. Even less frequently, if it could be said to happen at all, did he show what he was working on. That being said, when Damian finally found his way towards seeing Bruce out, it was most often with a sketch pad.

At first he was sat as far away from Bruce as possible, but with each subsequent visit Damian slowly but surely inched his way closer, until he was sat across the desk from him, scrunched in a chair with the sketch pad resting on his knees. Bruce’s high point of these interactions was the time that Damian, still silent, passed his sketch pad across Bruce’s desk. A wordless request. The rougher lines hadn’t been completely erased or covered up, but smoother and more confident ones gave shape to something Bruce knew would become a masterpiece in its own right. It was Bruce’s desk. Neatly arranged and carefully mapped.

The part that stood out to him were the pictures. The only ornamental aspect of his desk were the pictures of his children, which Damian had captured in striking detail. Before he could begin to formulate a response, Damian’s hand reached across the desk and gently lifted the top sheet, gesturing for Bruce to look at the image below as well. It was the same, every detail a mirror of Bruce’s civilian desk, except for the fact that each of the photos of his children showed them in costume.

Their poses were identical and their uniforms meticulously drawn, the exception being that Jason had his helmet tucked under his arm so that his domino was visible. Bruce hadn’t been able to formulate words, looking between the two, which Damian had seemed to realize. Two weeks later, he had found both pictures inside his locker in the cave.

[boringsickness]

babs seeing a little orphaned and terrified boy on the street, trying to run away from some criminals. she beats the hell out of them.

the boy slowly looking at her before hugging her. trembling, crying on her knees while she softly pats his head. She asks him how he's feeling, trying to light up the mood and joking about still being able to kick ass even without functioning legs.

Nightwing comes after a few seconds, watching the scene with a soft glint in his eyes. Expect that the kid does not know him and get defensive, arms opened and shielding Babs as if he wasn't crying a minute ago.

Nightwing blinks perplexed and holds up his hands, trying to make him lower his guard but he does until Babs tells him that it's okay. He's not gonna hurt them. The boy nods, a little shy, but still hovers around her. watching every interaction.

And that's how Babs found herself with a kid and Dick found himself trying to win him over so he can kisses his own girlfriend without getting pushed back by a lil dude who basically imprinted on his future wife.

[hood-ex]

So, do you recommend the new Nightwing run? I couldn't finish TT's run, and I was waiting to see if the new is any better. What are your overall thoughts so far? Also, is Barbara as present as she was in TT's books? Or does it actually feel like it's a NW only story ahah

We're only 5 issues in, and I wasn't super hyped by the first 2 issues, but I'm feeling more invested and excited with where it's going now.

Some things I like are:

The comedic tone of the writing that was so prevalent in TT's run is gone. Sure, there are some lighthearted moments (especially between Dick and Babs), and Dick uses the "holy __" liner, but it doesn't feel like every conversation is set up as a joke. I can actually take the situation seriously because it's written seriously.

I like that we're seeing some repercussions of The Alfred Pennyworth Foundation. TT created the foundation as a way for Dick to solve a bunch of problems and get a pat on the back for it. Watters is like hey, actually, even though Dick means well, some shit has slipped through the cracks, and the Pennyworth Foundation has created some negative effects in certain areas of the community. There are actual consequences in this run, which seemed lacking in TT's run.

Dick hasn't gotten knocked out from a head wound/revealed his identity to anyone yet, so that's a huge plus. He comes across more competent and this is probably because he doesn't have 100 other heroes running in to help him (the Titans are underground because of the gang wars, which means they're not present). He's just working with Babs and Melinda (and Babs feels less intrusive to some degree, but yeah, she's still present in this run). Dick also mentioned in #121 that he borrowed the batcomputer's compstat system to triangulate the Teddy gang's operations, and I like that he did that instead of passing that off to Babs.

Dick is trying to keep the gangs from beefing while also trying to keep the over-powered cops from hurting the gangs (mostly the Teddy gang). He's also trying to help the mutated gang called the Flyboiz because some of the Flyboiz are trying to get clean, but they're being further mutated by the toxic corpses they're underground with. I like that Watters isn't writing these gangs as like that's gang #1 and gang #2 and they're all terrible hooligans. Instead, he's allowing Dick to interact with the gangs on a more personal level, which allows him to realize that even though these people/kids are gang members or drug users, they need help and support in some form or another.

I'm thrilled that Watters has brought back the destruction of Bludhaven from Nightwing Vol. 2. I like that we can connect the history between volumes, especially something as big as thousands of people dying from Chemo.

Love that Watters knows "Hey, Rube!" and used it in a flashback scene.

There are definitely things to enjoy in this run so far, so I'd recommend giving it a try.

[haveihitanerve]

Gotham Protects Her Own

“Gotham protects her own.” Bruce had whispered to him once, in a, at the time, not so rare moment of affection, cradling dick to his chest as they looked over his city. Their city. Batman and Robin. Dick had believed him, of course, but he hadn’t really felt it. Not until he had stood at the bats side for the second year in a row, and his cape had fluttered. Dicks cape had never fluttered while he was standing. Running across the rooftops? Sure. Jumping over a chimney? Most definitely. But just standing still, no movement? It had never happened. Bruce’s did, from the very beginning Bruce’s cape had flown behind him, flapping with grace in the wind that was not there. But dicks hadn’t. But now… Bruce smiled down at him, pride lining every line in his face, before he took off across the roof, a challenge and a test at the same time. Dick chased after him, and for the first time since he had become Robin, he flew. His feet barely touched down, cushioned by the roofs, by shadows, and he laughed, wild and bright and free, and Bruce joined him, laugh deep and rich and full. Dick belonged to Gotham now, the city had laid her claim on him, and as Batman and Robin flew across the city, Dick could hear a new laugh join them, light and happy and feminine, delighted by their delight, their acceptance. Gotham protects her own, and Dick Grayson-Wayne, the first Robin, had earned that right, that protection, with his leaps and jokes and belief in Batman, in a belief in the city, in the belief that it could be better. 

Gotham protects her own. Catherine Todd had murmured to him once, late one night, a bruise blossoming on her cheek, eyes heavy from drugs. She was close to death, Jason could feel it practically wafting off her, and he didn't think much of her last words, a hazy drugged hallucination, slurred speech. But then she had passed and Jason had left, choosing the street over his father and then he had understood. People came looking for him, naturally, even his father ventured out, but shadows seemed to envelop him, the streets opened to his footfalls, and he always found a safe place to sleep, never waking with his things stolen or suddenly kidnapped. Jason could feel the city, his very lifeblood, could hear her music in her traffic, felt her song in the earthquakes. Gotham cradled him, sheltered him, and when the time came, pushed him to a left unattended Batmobile, tempting him to steal the tires. For the first time, Jason doubted his city, hated her for sending him into a trap. But then he became Robin, and Gotham squealed in delight, and Jason watched in awe as Bruce flew, as Gotham made his cloak billow, as she nurtured her prodigal son. Batman had gotten injured, once, badly enough that he had struggled with his grapple line, and it had snapped. Jason had screamed, lunging for him, but it was too late. Before he could cry over the dead body of his mentor, he found Bruce at the bottom of the building, not much worse for wear at all. Gotham had cradled him, shadows leaping to cushion his fall. Jason had laughed with glee, rushing Bruce home as quickly as possible, and something had brushed his cheek, a faint kiss against his forehead. Gotham protects her own and Jason Todd-Wayne, the second Robin, had been born into that right, that protection, and felt her city pound through his body like blood, feeding his soul. 

Gotham protects her own. Tim had seen the slogan on a Wayne Enterprise billboard once, when he had been seven, an ad campaign promoting insurance and helpful housing. It had become a sort of mantra for him, something he whispered under his breath every time his father made a snide comment about Tim lacking proper talent or social skills, after every call his parents declined, after every fight that had him biting his lip to stop the tears and debate running away. Gotham protects her own. Became his lifeline, his mantra, a promise of a better life. It wasn't anything he ever believed, until he finally worked up the courage to approach Bruce Wayne about the secret. Tim slipped on the Robin uniform for the first time… And something inside him settled. A woman's voice in the back of Tim’s head squealed. But as he raced over the rooftops, finally at Batman's side as he always dreamed to be instead of a few feet behind, snapping pictures, his cape dancing with the wind, his feet hardly touching down, that mantra, that false belief of hope, of a better life, became truth. Gotham protects her own, and Tim Drake-Wayne, the third Robin, had believed in that truth his whole life, wishing with every fiber of his being that she would protect him, and she finally had. 

Gotham protects her own. David Cain had warned her once, telling her great stories of the city with air of midnight black, of water a putrid green, and of a people a hardy and tough. It hadn't been a compliment, just another obstacle she would need to overcome to fulfill her future missions. She had believed him, of course, but… she had never truly known what it meant. Not until she had stumbled into the city, hurt, bleeding, afraid, and she had felt that… otherworldly power. Reaching for her. Its tendrils soft and kind, like a mother, shadows stretching across her, shielding her, as the League prowled the streets. It wasn't until she saw him. The Bat. And his little Bird, brutal efficiency and yet mercy in every action, wasn't until she saw how Gotham cradled them, lifted them, helped them to fly. Gotham had been more accepting to her than she had thought. Maybe because she hadn't hurt her children. Maybe because she knew her pain. Maybe because Cass had been so afraid. But whatever the reason, when Cassandra Cain-Wayne took to the streets, a proud, blazing Bat on her chest, her cape billowing behind her, Gotham sang. 

“Gotham protects her own!” Arthur Brown had screamed once. It had been in a fit of rage, followed by the sounds of windows crashing and tables smashing against the wall. He had been angry, livid even, the sound of his footsteps heavy and hard on the floor as he stormed around, pissed that Batman was unreachable for him, untouchable, protected by the city he claimed to do the same to. Steph knew the truth in the words, had been protected by them her whole life, finding a window open right when her father got home, the closet door unlocked miraculously after her father had locked her up, alleyways opening for her to escape through when bigger kids picked on her, or the cops chased her. And it happened now, as Arthur Brown came storming for her, rage and malice and every evil intention written across his features. Steph could feel that tug, that indescribable feeling of home, and she took a step back, melting into the shadows as she fled, fled her home, fled her father, fled his wrath and everything wrong with the world. She settled on the roof, the way she always did when he got like this, and waited, as she always did. For it to end. For him to stop. It was that night that she saw him for the first time. Steph had heard of him, of course, the Batman was infamous throughout Gotham by now, but she had never seen him in person. Never watched his work. It was at Bethany’s house. Bethany’s father, Vincent, was screaming again. The way Arthur was. But Gotham, Gotham didn't protect Bethany the way she did Steph. Or maybe Bethany just didn't listen. But Batman.. Batman listened. Batman protected. Steph watched, wide eyed, as he jumped through the window, as he grabbed Vincent by the throat and slammed him against the wall, snarling in his face. Steph watched, hands clutching her teddy, wondering whether she would rather risk her father than this demon. But he stopped. Paused. Threw Vincent to the ground in disgust, unconscious, and turned to Bethany. Beth had stopped moving, the way she always did when Vincent got the way he did, dissociating so she wouldn't feel his hands on her. Steph didn't think it worked, but it was something. Batman bent down, gentle, slowly, a few feet away, extending a hand to Beth. Steph couldn't hear what he said, couldn't see his face, but Beth blinked at him. She blinked, and she walked closer, slowly. And Batman… Batman held her, held her until she was crying, held her through her tears and wiped her eyes and rubbed her back, held her until she was asleep without nightmares, and carried her to bed, tucking her in gently. Steph didn't know how long she sat there, watching as he cared for this little girl, forgoing the Bat Symbol in the sky, and his anger, for her. Gotham protects her own, Steph swore as she watched him drop from the window the same night, flitting away on shadows only she could see. Gotham protects her own, and she would protect Gotham. She would mold herself after the Bat, and help. 

[batfamhastwitter]

Guys I cannot decide who I want to pair Dick up with in this au 😭😭 it’s between Wally Barbra and Kori (or nobody but I think he’d have some fun interactions with partners), please give me some propaganda for who u think it should be!!

Edit: I made a poll!! Cast your votes now!