#in gotham people die for being straight

[murderbirds]

Happy mother's day to Gertrude Kappelput, Gotham's best mother, and Oswald Cobblepot, who taught several people that if you kill someone's mother you will end up blown up, shot to the head and betrayed or with a knife in your heart. Oswald was still the only character in that show who could break through the plot armor of the main secondary characters entirely out of spite, and that is part of the reason why he will always be my favorite of all time

[angstandhappiness]

Interesting

Batman #137 - "The Gotham War II" (2023)

written by Chip Zdarsky art by Jorge Jimenez & Tomeu Morey

[prongsx]

Lazy Sundays

warning: fluff, f!reader, Jason being a cute guy. English its not my first language. established relationship.

Jason had always been an alert person. It was tiring, but he couldn't help it. Life forced him to never rest.

It started when he was still young, he had to be alert so he wouldn't die in the alley of crime, if he made a false move he could end up in a web of crimes and murders. He had to be alert to keep his own mother from self-destruction, had to be constantly checking her breathing, if she had eaten, if she hadn't used her subsistence money for drugs. He learned that being a heavy sleeper was dangerous when his house was shot at and he had to hide under the table, eyes full of tears.

Then Bruce adopted him, but he had already lost part of his ability to be a child, never carefree. And now he had the burden of showing Bruce that he was good enough, that he wasn't wasting his time training a boy with too many emotions. Always alert. He had too many emotions, he knew that. His love was wide and deep, but so was his anger. His sadness was like sharp claws scratching his skin from the inside out. He needed to stay alert to keep his emotions in check, because they could consume him.

Being Robin kept him alert, he needed to take care of himself and Batman's back. Even Dick, who had years of training, found Jason too vigilant, his eyes never seemed genuinely relaxed and Dick found out the hard way. He went to play a prank on Jason, waking him up in the middle of the night, but the boy reacted in the worst way and before Dick could react, there was a knife pressed against his neck.

When Jason died and came back with Red Hood, his sense of survival became stronger. There were too many people wanting to kill him, the anti-hero had twice as many enemies, sleeping in peace was not an option. He had so many knives and hidden weapons that he would get scared when he went to brush his teeth and found an AK 47 in the bathroom cabinet. He needed to be like that to survive.

Then he met you. And his knees got weak, his heart raced faster than when he had a gun pointed straight at the vigilante's heart. After much difficulty, you started dating, even though Jason warned you that dating him was a death sentence.

You didn't listen to his warnings, forcing him to stop self-deprecating and start acting like a functional adult (as much as possible) to be in a relationship. Jason was right, he was too busy with his double life. He almost never relaxed, worried about taking care of you and protecting you from his enemies.

After a few fights, you decided that for the relationship to work, you would have at least one day a week to be lazy. You started it: Sunday morning. You needed to know that at least one day a week you would have Jason completely. It was hard to live with the distance his night shift required. So he committed to keeping up this new tradition.

"I'm hungry," Jason just mumbled in response to your plea. It was 10 am on a Sunday morning and neither of you were willing to get up, just like you forced them to. Your legs were intertwined, a thin sheet covering you, Jason's hands holding you tightly against him, his soft lips against your shoulder. The sun was coming in through the curtains, Gotham seemed silent, the only noise that mattered to you was each other's breathing.

"The bakery should be delivering by now," Jason replied, sighing contentedly as you drew patterns on his arm. One of the rules of Sunday morning was to make no effort, even cooking. You knew Jason liked to cook and take care of you, but at least one day a week you allowed yourself the luxury of eating ready-made food.

"It should be at the door by now," you mumble, finally opening your eyes and finding your boyfriend's beautiful face. Jason imitated your action, his sapphire eyes seemed clouded with sleep, which pleased you. Yesterday you had gone out to dinner and stayed up late watching movies and kissing on the couch, which explained how tired they both were.

"Let's get it then," Jason's voice was still hoarse, his black hair cutely messy. He let out a groan of complaint when you pulled away from him to get up, causing you to laugh.

As soon as you established lazy Sunday, it was as if a switch had turned in Jason's head. It was impressive to admire how beautiful Jason looked relaxed, his shoulders without all that tension, his features less marked and even his scars relaxed.

Peace would suit Jason, you thought.

The two of you shuffled into the kitchen, talking in whispers, your hands never leaving each other. Jason walked close behind you, his large hands holding your hips close to his body.

Your boyfriend had a silly smile on his lips, the joy of being with you leaving him on cloud nine. He noticed how beautiful you looked in your sweat shorts and with his shirt, you smelled of comfort and love.

"So, our only commitment is to have coffee and kisses at the counter, right?" Jason hummed, a huge smile on his lips, the sun seemed brighter. Then clouds appeared in the glorious sky of the lazy Sunday.

The clouds came in the shapes of three known people invading your window, the largest of them smiling happily. You thought Jason was really sleepy and relaxed, because he didn't even raise a gun towards the intruders, which was customary.

"Good morning, couple." Dick Grayson greeted, closing the window when Damian entered last. You raised an eyebrow, while Jason gave a slight growl behind you. Your hands came up to lightly stroke his hair, urging him to stay calm, he relaxed into your touch, your lazy Sunday Jason returning.

"Okay, Todd, we got some information from that case we were working on." Damian said, being the rude little punk that he is, throwing work papers on their kitchen table. Tim Drake followed suit, leaning against their counter, where Jason planned to kiss you until you forgot your name.

"Boys," you called out to them, clearing your throat. Three pairs of eyes stared at you. "Today is Sunday."

You sighed when none of them reacted. Damn workaholic sons of Bruce Wayne. Your feet shuffled to the kitchen door to get breakfast, leaving Jason to take care of his brothers.

"Jason, we need those other documents you saved." Dick said, sitting down next to Damian. Jason let out a long sigh, he still felt numb from being in bed with you. He wouldn't let his brothers ruin his favorite day of the week.

"Can we fix this tomorrow?" The three brothers stared at Jason, their eyes equally wide. The fearsome red hood's posture was so relaxed, his pajama top slightly torn and loose. His hips leaned on the counter and his blue eyes seemed clearer, almost serene. His hair really looked like a mess, the white lock falling over his forehead in a cute sort of way.

"Jason, did you hear us? It's the case you've been working on for months." Tim said, still looking perplexed. Jason sighed, his features still marked by prolonged sleep.

"Yeah, yeah. So?" He grumbled, a smile appearing on his lips when you came back with the breakfast bag. Handing him a cup and pouring coffee. He whispered a quick, "Thank you, honey."

Damian was the first to recover from the shock, his hands holding a particularly suspicious photo that would solve half of Jason's case.

"Todd, big drug case! You spent months bugging everyone for clues."

Jason just shrugged, sipping his coffee and resting his face on your shoulder, humming with joy.

"One day more, one day less."You could have laughed at how Dick looked like he had been slapped in the face. Your heart was bursting with pride for your boyfriend, who had finally learned the meaning of being at peace and lazy.

"Who are you and what have you done with little wing?" Dick said, blinking those big blue eyes slowly.

You turned your back on the little argument again, not wanting to interfere in the family dynamics, busying yourself with taking your breakfast out of the bag from your favorite bakery.

"Take those papers off the table, let's have breakfast." Jason replied with just that, making Tim's eyes pop out. He looked like a different Jason, without his characteristic sarcastic smile or the tense shoulders.

"Todd, we need to figure this out!"

"Jason, it won't take long..."

Jason let out a louder sigh now, leaving the Wonder Woman mug in the corner and turning to his brothers, his tone of voice still soft compared to normal. "Today is Sunday." He repeated, pinching his nose slightly to keep his temper from rising. "I'm staying with my girlfriend. I'll figure this out with you guys tomorrow."

He turned to you, almost as if he expected to receive a proud smile, and he got one. Damian let out a snort.

"Todd, be a man for once in your life and stand up for yourself."

"He's too tangled up in the leash." Tim joined in the provocation, unable to contain himself.

"Wrong choice of words, boys," you whispered, knowing what was coming next.

The three of them were startled when Jason's hand slammed on the table they were at.

"I'm only going to say this once. It's Sunday morning. If you little shits are unhappy and girlfriendless, that's your problem. Either you're going to leave now with these papers or I'm going to use the gun I have hidden behind the fridge."

Jason's blue eyes were that darker shade that screamed: danger! It didn't take much more, the three guards took the papers and left muttering, you heard a few words that sounded like "this will come back, Todd" and "I'll tell him where he can stick that gun."

You turned to Jason, your hands going to his tense shoulders.

"Honey, it's okay, I'll accept if you want to help them."

He let out a snort, pulling you against his chest, smoothing the skin under your shirt.

"No. It's our lazy Sunday."You smiled, ridiculously content, pulling him into a lazy kiss.

"Speaking of which, gun behind the fridge?"

He distracted you with a kiss at the base of your neck, a small chuckle leaving his lips. Bastard.

It was a good lazy Sunday.

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

Just a concept, Yandere!Dimensional traveler!Batman X Gn!reader X Platonic!Batfam, also wrote a one shot about this

Synopsis: Batman becomes obsessed with a spouse and kids that he never had.

Pairing: Yandere!Dimensional traveler!Batman X Reader; Batman X Reader; Platonic Batfam X Batparent!Reader; Yandere!Batman X Platonic!Batfam; Batman X Platonic!Batfam

Tw: English is not my first language; mentions of Alfred being dead; I'm quite new on the fandom so there might be some mistakes about facts of the original comics, but this is a fanfic so whatever; this piece is more focused on Bruce and the batfam while still mentioning reader; stalker and delusional Bruce.

Word count: 1,4k

Requested? No.

General masterlist

Yandere!Batman who is very VERY, extremely, lonely, touch starved and grim. He’s also very unlucky apparently.

He never even met Dick. Sure, he heard about what happened to The Flying Graysons, investigated it even, but he's only seem him on pictures, videos or in passing, but he wasn’t there that night, he never talked to him, or maybe he did while stopping him from killing Zuko, either way, never adopted him, our boy went straight to orphanage and was adopted shortly after by a normal and loving family.

Actually this universe’s Bruce never met nor connected with ANY of his children, all he had was Alfred, and yet��� Something happened and…

Safe to say it's been long, never ending harsh years.

The only thing this Bruce knows is pain, loneliness and misery. Don’t talk to him about Alfred. Maybe he can't even look at pictures. When he realized he couldn’t remember his voice anymore… He WON’T watch videos or listen to audio of him. Yes, Alfred being gone was one more trauma to the list of traumas he will carry on his tense and burdened shoulders for the rest of his helpless existence.

This Bruce is a loser, closer to madness than any version of Bruce (aside from Batman who laughs). His Gotham is nearing it’s doom. He didn't join the Justice League because of his level of emotional masochism, pride and lack of will to get back on his feet. He is so used to suffering he thinks it's possible to die if he doesn't have such bitter companion. Safe to say, he is depressed. And hyperfocused on saving a city he’s been working in for decades, too blind by his grieving to see that he is not doing the right things. There is no social projects on Wayne Enterprises or Wayne Foundation to help people, he neglected the company decades ago. He is almost becoming Michael Keaton’s Batman in The Flash.

Somehow, one day he is sent to another universe. It can be through some disaster like Crisis in Infinite Earths, or some villain who wanted different variants of heros to fight amongst themselves to death, doesn't really matter here, what’s important is that he (after years of being a hermit on his cave) interacts with people, more specifically, he interacts with himself.

Or definitely a lucky version of himself. Maybe the luckiest. He is jealous.

During the whole event they interact and imagine how he felt when he found out that this other Batman has an Alfred. And he is so successful that he is a billionaire who uses his money to help Gotham get better (or as good as we know Gotham can get). Oh, and he has a spouse. And children. Plural. So many he lost count. And pets. Two dogs, one cat, a cow (?), a turkey (a what now?) and a fREAKING DRAGON BAT (WHAT THA FUCK IS EVEN THAT????!?!?????!).

He is also more put together (looks like he showers and doesn't skip meals). And less temperamental.

Okay…

Bruce is confused. When he comes back to his universe, with a spark of hope in his heart, he does his research. He could start actually making effort on his company and thus helping Gotham, maybe even be good enough as a vigilant that he could join the Justice League and make some friends (even if the other Bruce was just as stoic, he was the only one who could see on his micro expressions while talking about them how fond he was of his colleagues, and how much he thrusts them, even with his trust issues).

He could find those damn kids and adopt them. Find the one who somehow managed to make him open up enough for a relationship.

(He could also just work on his company, philanthropism, do some therapy, make some new organic connections or whatever).

He is VERY disappointed to find out that some of those so called kids and are already adults, have lived their whole lives without him, maybe some have been arrested or even dead, they have their whole lives and families that have NOTHING to do with him. Some don't even exist (the only explanation for not a single clue in months of research). And his partner, Reader, is either living their own life that doesn't allow space for him or also dead. He lost his timing. He is old and lost his timing. He is alone. He shouldn't have hoped so much that he got blind by the improbability of the small chance. The other Batman did mention that his family started growing decades ago.

He just lost another family. This one he never got to have. He wishes he never knew about them.

He hyperfocused on them for months for nothing (hey, It was hard to find info on the ones that don't live a very civilian legal life, like Cassandra, or the ones that never even existed, like Damian, or the ones that are dead — again maybe Cassandra, or perhaps Jason. Maybe Jason joined a gang just for survival or something like that, life on the streets is harsh, and he is not very lucky. And I’m not even being specific on what could have happened to every single one of the batfam. Also Tim is probably a CEO right now). No connection and family will come from all of that. Especially because he is greedy, starved, he doesn't want bits and pieces, he wants it ALL. He wants that other Bruce's life.

Yandere!Batman is born. He drowns and gets drunk on the pit of his own madness and he can’t get out of it. Doesn't want to.

He could… He could get rid of the people on their lives, brainwash them and make them a happy family. They aren’t vigilantes, they don't have his abilities, they don't have his intellect, it won't be hard.

Of course, Batman doesn't kill, but this Batman is looking for a change.

But they aren't what lucky-billionaire-put-together Bruce had.

Don't get me wrong. He is not just petty and jealous, nor resents Bruce for his privileges and better decisions, or whatever.

Okay, maybe a little. Why? Just why ones life was perfect (hello? Didn't you hear the part where he told you his own problems? Not even about the DEAD RESURRECTED CRIME LORD SON?) while the others had to draw the short stick?

But majorly he is just desperate, foaming at the mouth for a happy ending, and projected all of that on that poor random bat.

Now, enough brooding, back to solutions.

He could clone them.

Could work. Not exactly easy but he could just hack onto Luthor archives until he found how he cloned Superman and made that Superboy, Superman, or whatever he goes by now.

Again, not the same as the original ones. The ones he craves. The ones he wants.

Alfred is screaming in his grave about how Bruce, please, needs to realize that no one will fill the expectations he puts on them, not even the “original ones”.

Another hard, but better fitted solution is to… Simply… Find a way to go to that other universe, or one similar enough, stalk and study their whole lives until he can perfectly replicate “lucky” Bruce’s persona, and just… Get rid of him and take his place. Hello Alfred, hello honey, hello kids, daddy’s home.

Looks like he finally got luck on his side, maybe the sun will rise tomorrow.

Yandere!Bruce won't just brush aside that he is rusty and definitely not a better Batman then the other one, but he's got time. He will developt patience. But can he learn enough to trick his perfect vigilant kids though? Is he seriously thinking straight? I mean, the batkids are dope though. They learned from the best. As a proud (wannabe) father he knows they will be better than him one day, perhaps already are.

How much of watching their lives, everything that he craves, can he take until he snaps? How much of watching Bruce's interactions with them can he take? He swears he won't take them for granted when he has them, he will take care of them, protect them, be a family, be happy.

Can he really keep his distance?

Looks like another supervillain just arrived in Gotham for the batfamily to battle against, he is quite persistent though.

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

[pixiatn]

Returning to my old roots of being the CEO of Duke/Danny

Honestly surprised there's not much fics pulling from the Ultimate Enemy Timeline, and I'm talking Abt post semi redeemed Dan, or Danny's friends and fam die but he doesn't go evil just traumatically runs away, id like to see an in the middle concept. Like post him becoming full ghost but pre him becoming Dan.

Now being a full ghost and a powerful one at that, Danny's chaotic destructive ass makes a beeline straight for Gotham due to its raw supernatural energy that he's heard rumors about from peeps in the Ghost zone. And his ass goes there to chomp on weaker/blob ghosts (idk if it was said how Dan got powerful like that so I'm making shit up)

Like usually some people who see him do this are like "omgee, new hero/protector!!" And he just hisses and vanishes, bro has reached cryptid poltergeist status. he doesn't care about saving people cause that's LAME, and he DOESN'T DO THAT ANYMORE, cause it's LAME, but he doesn't admit that deep, deep, DEEP down, there's a flicker of humanity that buzzes with warmth at being recognized as a protector again

Batfam is obviously suspicious of this deeply suspicious and mistrusting ghost guy but Duke has a bit more of an open minded thinking bro is going through a metahuman crisis and wants to help because there's not a lot of open metahumans in Gotham (that aren't evil) and wants to offer some sort of guidance before the intricate web of evil catches him.

So Duke is investigating Danny on his own, trying to learn more about ghosty dude and how he can find him or help him, eventually learning about the GIW and their attempt to enact anti-ecto laws which by association would allow them to experiment ghost/specter powered metahumans. As well as wanting to take them down, he also wants to find out if they have anything about the Ghost boy he's investigating.

While casually breaking into one of their facilities in Gotham, he finds a group of scientists in the middle of beginning some type of ghost dissection on Danny while hes still awake and thrashing, so as one does, Duke proceeds to jump everyone. In the scuffle, Danny gets freed and is about to escape but actually sticks around to start beating everyone's ass with Duke.

Duke guides Danny out of the building and before he can even say anything, Danny hisses and vanishes. Duke sighs at the loss of his investigations victim but finds himself being almost stalked by the ghost. Dried ectoplasm smeared above doorways which only he can see because of his perception of light, electronics being finicky around him, being surrounded by a cold air, and a whole bunch of semi threatening gestures

Unknown to Duke, this is Danny trying to befriend him aggressively due to kinda forgetting how to do it normally

[alyakthedorklord]

Chiroptophobia: the Fear of Bats.

Bruce Wayne is Scared of Bats. This is a Canon Fact.

In a difference from canon, Batman pretends to actually BE a bat man.

(Again, “Loading and Aspect Ratio” by JUBE514 situation with fake wings. Please go read it I love it so much.)

Bruce turns himself into a physical manifestation of his personal worst nightmares, and sets out to be a street cryptid. People see him flinching from bright lights and loud noises (he hasn’t slept in three days and he really hates guns) twitching weirdly (testing his wings function/stimming) not fully understanding human social niceties (you cannot tell me this man isn't Autistic) and, duh, wings, and go ah yes this being is Inhuman.

However, people KNOW Brucie Wayne™ is petrified of bats. There was an incident at a party when one flew through a window, another at a zoo, there was this one time Manbat showed up and he practically teleported away. No one saw him for a whole month, even after Batman had captured Manbat. (He got injured in the fight.)

By extension, this means that Bruce Wayne is afraid of Batman. Just- absolutely terrified of him. No ones seen them in the same place. Ever. Bruce Wayne actually publicly refuses to even believe in the cryptid for YEARS past when he's already been proven to exist.

When the Justice League gets called in to protect Bruce and his smattering of children from some plot (batman conspicuously absent, despite Gotham being his territory) Bruce straight up tells the league that he doesn’t believe in Batman, and he feels much safer with “real heroes” rather than “a urban legend spawned from overdramatic furries and gang wars.”

The justice league is, obviously, confused.

Certified little shits Dick, Jason, and Tim, (because we’re going with JUBE514’s canon and jason doesn’t die they’re all brothers f off-)

ANYWAYS: Certified Little Shits Dick, Jason, and Tim, ready for chaos/solidifying secret identities: “Don’t worry! We believe in batman! We saw him!” :D

They then proceed to tell the justice league that Bruce HAS met Batman, but he has a phobia of bats, so when Batman saved them at a gala Bruce screamed so loud and shrill he threw off the bat-hearing and then punched batman in the face so hard he knocked him out cold, grabbed then-baby Jason and ran. (Nightwing and the second Robin had to HEROICALLY rescue a dazed Batman, Dick saw it with his own eyes!)

Bruce was so scared of the bat coming to take revenge that he jumped at every shadow for a whole month. Why, Jason, (who was younger then) had slept in Bruce's bed to keep him safe! (Dick is crooning about his cute little brother. Jason, who is hitting his growth spurt and not a little kid anymore, is infinitely embarrassed.) Right now, Brucie has settled into firmly denying Batman’s entire existence so that he can sleep soundly at night.

“Why is he so scared of bats?” The Justice League is wondering. Oh, they are so glad they asked!

“Alfred told us a story once,” Dick says, eyes wide and innocent as he prepares to lie through his fucking teeth, “that when Bruce was little, really little, he got trapped in a cave filled with bats, and his dad had to come rescue him. Apparently, Little Bruce had been crying about a massive bat, even bigger than he was, with glowing red eyes and human hands and (gasp) wait oh my goodness gracious what if that was the BATMAN :0”

“The baby batman.” Jadon adds.

“Batboy?” Tim wonders.

“Alfred, do you think Bruce met Batman when they were little?” Dick asks.

“I believe,” Alfred “the greatest enabler” Pennyworth hums, offering fresh baked scones to thier gleeful audience, “that Master Bruce referred to what he saw as ‘the bat king’ and reported seeing him outside his window several times over the years.”

“Maybe it really was him! Will you ask Batman for us?” Tim asks, already planning to hack the watchtower cameras and set up some popcorn with his brothers.

The Justice League, who have learned more about the Batman in one conversation than they have over MANY years of working together, tell the Wayne children that it will be their Genuine Pleasure to quiz batman on his interactions with BRUCIE WAYNE who has, apparently, laid batman out cold with one punch.

Alfred adds on that he personally thinks the Batman is being rather courteous to Master Bruce, as “bat king” sightings were after “difficult times” and he doesn’t come near the manor otherwise, as robin had been the one to return some family heirlooms that one time they were stolen. He calls the batman and his robins “polite young gentlemen” and then leaves.

But now the gears are turning in the justice leagues heads. Batman? Courteous? Polite? Batman is not Courteous or Polite. Not unless something else is going on.

Now. From their point of view. Batman lives in the cave systems under the richest houses in Gotham, Phantom of the Opera style, hiding his meta form (because this batman is playing cryptid really well. Maybe he was a mutant baby of some Rich Gothamites, who threw him into the caves in shame!) He’s been watching Bruce Wayne, likely as he struggled with the highly reported on demise of his parents, seeing the effects that crime had on the boy that fell into his cave all those years ago. Batman has always been so protective of children, so hateful of guns, obviously the Wayne tragedy is part of what motivates him. He loves Gotham dearly, territorial of it to the point of keeping other heroes out, and yet he breaks that rule here, for Gotham's prince, solely for Bruce’s comfort.

Bruce, another person who obviously loves the city of Gotham just as much, putting millions into charity and relief efforts. Who is clearly very protective of his children, even if he usually has no spine, to the point of attacking his greatest fear to keep then safe, and good enough to land a hit, even. (Bruce Wayne is also considerably attractive.)

Its all so clear to the Justice League: Batman is madly in love with Bruce Wayne. Has been for years. To the point of watching him sleep, on occasion. How very tragic! Batman, in love with someone he can never be with! Not only would it paint a massive target on Bruce’s back if they ever did get together- there’s no questioning what Gotham villains would do if they discovered this, (and denying himself love out of an attempt to keep others safe is EXACTLY the kind of self-sacrificing nonsense Batman would pull) But Batman can’t even truly see the man he’s in love with without Brucie running away in terror! Well, the poor guy… how sad…

This conclusion can be supported by the following evidence-

Batman being the one to catch the guy who put the hit out on Bruce. He sent them to babysit/make sure Bruce was safe while dealt with the actual threat. (Bruce had a suspiciously long bathroom break/a nap)

Batman’s first appearance being right after Bruce Wayne returned to Gotham. Was the bat following him to protect him in those missing years? Or maybe he decided to clean up the city now that his beloved had returned?

Batman always being seen near where Bruce is. He’s never once been at the watchtower when Bruce has a public appearance- he must be watching over him, a silent guardian in case someone gets it in their head to kidnap Gotham’s Prince.

Batman insisting that Bruce is innocent in a corporate scheme, despite evidence to the contrary. (Hes right in the end, of course, but they’ve never seen him ignore evidence so clear.)

Batman casually referencing Wayne Tech/Foundation inner workings- he keeps an eye on them, of course. (If he can’t be close to the object of his affections, the league reasons, of course he’d make sure that Bruce’s company and projects are on the right track)

Nightwing, when asked, confirms the Bruce Punching Batman story. He says “honestly I think B was impressed! Caught him off guard!” (Since when does Batman lower his guard? Only when he’d be… distracted, perhaps…)

Superman saves Bruce, who thanks him with a kiss on the cheek. Later, justice league was teasing Clark, batman huffs and leaves the room. He’s CLEARLY jealous! Superman feels just awful!

Batman inexplicably knowing social dances/high society manners- he must have learned by watching (stalking) bruce! He can navigate high profile talk if he wants to, he just doesn’t want to most of the time. but if the situation calls for it he can talk like the Richest of Pricks in a way that only comes with observation.

Batman bristling when some of the league members start making Comments on Brucie Wayne’s Physical Attributes. (Jealousy? Defensiveness? Perhaps… embarrassment at GL’s detailed explanation on what he’d do with a chance in bed with Brucie.)

Batman absolutely freezing up when confronted with any of the above evidence. (He’s trying SO HARD not to laugh/go tell his kids)

Dick/Jason being big enough to wear the Bat-wings rather than thier own and be convincing- they save Bruce, though the man passes out (from fear? Blood loss from an injury? Perhaps- he is faking) and Dick/Jason, either out of genuine concern for their dad or general “how can i stir the pot” chaos, gently strokes his hair away from his face in an act of compassion that the cameras just so happen to catch. (There’s a few tears shed in the justice league- poor batman! He can’t be with his love!)

The robins (in both identities) telling the justice league that they've seen batman watching him.

“oh yeah he does background checks on aaaaaall bruces conquests. Had a conniption when brucie found a mafia boss that one time.”

“And when he found out Bruce and Two-face had a fling!”

(The league notes that often, if a criminal gets too close to Brucie, they’re put away not long after. B is usually collecting evidence in his civilian ID. But it looks like angry Batman wanted them to get the hell away from his mans.)

The Justice League is swooning over this tragic, forbidden love story. Batman is a little creepy but hey. He apparently grew up in a cave system. Its a wonder he's as well adjusted as he is. Batman has their sympathy, he seems less unflappable/untouchable, they’re a little more understanding with him now. Superman is all too happy to be a rebound, if needed. There are magic users offering glamour spells. Green Lantern is making exposure therapy innuendos.

The robins can’t believe how lucky they got. They’re def grounded but B can’t be too mad bc his secret identity is FUKIN SET.

Alfred is rather proud of Batman's new nickname in the league being “the bat king” and keeps sending batman along with cookies. The league thinks Batman is checking up on bruce with his butler. Its a mess.

Eventually, Batman loses a bet to one of his kids. Committing to the Bit with an exasperated sigh (he’s definitely not having fun, shut up jason.)

He admits to his crush.

[writing-mlm]

maybe tim drake x male reader where tim falls back into his habit of just sort of studying people like he had batman and robin. he likes the reader but obviously tim has to analyze everything about him, his own habits paired with the suspicious nature instilled in him by batman wouldn’t let him casually take interest in somebody.

It's not stalking if we kiss

Summary: Tim can't process emotions normally and does everything wrong only... it works Pairing: Tim Drake x Male reader W.C: 4k a/n: guys I cant write Tim properly omfg I rewrote this a million times

People tend to forget that Tim is actually… kinda creepy. He is second on the stalker list, right behind Joe from You and now that he thinks about it, he might be better than Joe. For one, Joe is actually creepy. He’s a killer by choice, he’s the gross stalker. Tim is the informant stalker, considering himself more of a private investigator type of stalker. And, he’s not a stalker. He’s a detective who’s really good with technology. Everyone knows that. 

Admittedly, he’s tried to grow out of those habits in his recent years. After being confronted with learning every single member of the JLA’s schedules without any of them noticing, he realized he had an issue. He went to therapy— he slept on it and watched a couple of movies and changed. 

But man, old habits die hard. 

He doesn’t realize he's fallen back into his stalking habits for a long while, that’s how second nature they had become over the years. Some sort of natural instinct he had since birth to learn about people that were only made worse through Bruce’s training and his paranoid nature. It was the perfect concoction for someone like Tim, leading him down a near-irreversible path. 

Even now, as he’s watching the surveillance footage of you as you’re out on patrol several states away, he doesn’t realize it. His eyes flicker across the screen to find the street sign, Blecker Street, you’re seventeen blocks away from home and nearly three miles out from your patrol area. Having followed one of your old goons down to an alleyway before dipping into the restaurant they ran inside. 

It was a temporary stay, your old mentor was going to be away for some time and needed someone to watch over their city in their absence. Naturally, you accepted and set up back in your old apartment, it had never been rented out considering your mentor was the landlord and sentimental in that way. But that didn’t stop Tim from worrying. He’s seen reports from that city, and while it’s not as bad as Gotham, the city had aliens and metas. It wasn’t something Gotham had to deal with often, something you had definitely stopped being used to. 

Sipping his tea, Tim watches as you roll your neck and then your shoulder as you exit the restaurant with the goon in tow, it only tells him one simple fact; you’re tired. Probably another ten or so minutes before you called it a day and went back home. He grins, he prefers it when you’re home. Well, it’s not actually home, he thinks he should call it your place for the week instead. Your home is in Gotham now, it has been for several years now. He knows you've been neighbors for quite some time now. 

Sure enough, after ten minutes you’ve called it a night and head back to your apartment. Once he gets a visual of you entering your apartment safely, he closes out the footage tabs on his laptop and goes to bed. It’s nearly eight in the morning in Gotham and he’s been up for nearly two days. His old— according to Jason— body isn’t used to staying up for four days straight anymore. 

It sucks ass. 

As he settles into bed, he just has to double-check that you’re okay. He flicks through the cameras he’s hacked into, seeing that you’ve entered the apartment and from the home security your neighbors have, he hears the door lock four times. That’s the lock, the deadbolt, and two additional locks and it settles him enough that he’s pulled into a slumber by the fact that you made it home safely. 

—

It’s small things, at least that’s what everyone tells him. The small things matter and he wholeheartedly agrees, more often than not in crimes the smallest details could be the largest but he doesn’t know how that would apply to you. Why whenever he’d mention you to Dick or even Alfred, they’d tell him that. As if it was some major deciding factor in his friendship with you.  

Ever the genius, he doesn’t connect it when he remembers the last time he was in your boat you’d mentioned how you hated the fact that people could look inside. 

So, naturally, when he finds a one-way glass cover online, he just has to buy it for you. Never mind the fact that he installs it while you’re still out of the city and without getting any sort of permission from you. But he has a key for a reason. You clearly trust him. He doesn’t see why it would be a big deal for you. Maybe for others, but you’re different. You’re… well, you. 

He installs it and has Bernard test it out from the outside and it works. Not that he doubted his work would ever fail. He checks for himself and he’s pleasantly surprised that someone would only be able to look inside if they got within an inch of the window. And he thoroughly doubts anyone could even get that close to begin with. 

While he’s there, cleaning up the mess he didn’t mean to make, he notices that the fruits on your counter are going bad. It would be bad if you returned to a house of moldy food, so he throws it out and cleans the bowl before Tim decides he needs to make sure there’s nothing else wrong on the boat. 

It’s only nice. 

He ends up with a trash bag filled with nearly rotten fruit, an expired milk jug that only had one bowl of cereal left, some cleaning wipes, and a gross-smelling sponge. He knows you don’t live in filth, you hate dust and mold, so he figures the sponge had accidentally retained some nasty liquid that only got worse with your departure and subsequent lack of attention. 

Tim, knowing you well enough, goes back out to replace the sponge but he rationalizes that if he’s buying a sponge he might as well restock your home. It feels weird going to the store to pick up just one thing. He takes a list of everything you’re running low on or out of entirely and sets out for the second time that day. Never mind the fact that he had agreed to drinks with Bernard who was now forced to tag along if he even wanted to get a taste of drinks later that night.

He returns to the boat with Bernard deciding to wait outside, something about not missing another planned event, and puts everything into their rightful place. He knows where everything goes, the meticulous spots that you never change whenever you deep clean.

Should he deep clean for you?

“Good God! Let’s go!” Bernard yells after Tim has spent a whole ten minutes debating if he should deep clean the entire boat. 

“It’s not like you’re coming home with me,” He huffs, exiting the boat. Bernard raises an eyebrow and Tim raises his back. “You always go off when we get drinks— I’m just the wingman,”

“Yeah, a pretty shit one.” Bernard scoffs. 

—

“Hey,” He answers his phone without looking up from his current case. It doesn’t have his attention, it hasn’t since you left, but he needs to get at least a little work done. Even if he’s still riding out the splitting headache from yesterday. “How’s city-sitting?” He glances at the phone, making sure it was on speaker. 

“Calm,” You answer, crawling out onto the fire escape of your old apartment. “Better than Gotham— my place doesn’t move with the wind anymore, either.” You chuckle, now settled onto one of the old metal stairs. 

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking of staying,” He frowns, taking the phone off of the speaker and pressing it to his ear. Now that he thinks about it, he wouldn’t mind moving to your city. It’s nice. 

“Nah,” Your face scrunches as you say it. “It’s nice, but it’s too retirement home for me. I’m not ready to give up having a constant stock of bottled water and up-to-date gas masks.” You joke. 

“That’s good,” He stops himself from sighing. “My rent would’ve gone up.” He jokes, flipping through the pages of his files. 

“You’re rich,” You scoff, it’s playful. There’s no harm in it. “It’s crazy we’re paying rent to live on fucking water, though.” You add, leaning back on the stairs.

“Eh,” He shrugs, grabbing a pen and flipping it between his fingers. He’s sure somewhere in the galaxy someone is paying rent to live on air. “Capitalism will always be crazy.”

“Oh, by the way, the supermarket had a sale on those ice creams you like. I got you some,” He admits while putting the phone back on speaker. 

“Bitch,” You draw out. Tim hears your smile and softly smiles, now taking apart his pen. “I love you, dude. Oh my god, I’m gonna raw dog them once I get back.” You all but moan.

“…sometimes I wish you thought before you spoke,” He cringes, staring at his phone. Never mind the way hearing you say that made him feel things.

“Sorry!” You laugh. “But, thanks. How much do I—“

“I’m rich,” He reminds you, putting the pen back together. His phone beeps midway putting the ink back into the metal casing and he glances at his phone. It’s an alert that your mentor was spotted back in the city. He smiles at the alert, a part of his nerves calming immediately. 

Good, you’ll be back in two days. 

“I gotta go,” He lies knowing your mentor will be back within the next two minutes. 

“Ah, okay. Keep me updated about that case, I just know it’s that Elvis impersonator!” Standing up, you stretch and he nearly hears the pop of your joints. 

“It’s not, but okay.” 

He does very little in the window between then and your return, he’s mostly counting the hours and patrolling. It’s the usual for patrol, albeit a little boring without your chatter in his ear. He’s happy to report he didn’t get any major injuries in that time frame, though. 

When you finally return to Gotham, Tim waits for you on the deck of the boat. He’s pretending to hardly care, acting caught up in some footage he’s reviewing to notice you walking up to the docks. 

“Missed me?” You grin, stepping into the boat with ease. He remembers when you’d been so nervous to get on them before, fearing you’d fall into the nasty water below. 

He looks up, a grin across his face and eyes taking you in. You’ve tanned in your absence, although he supposed Gotham doesn’t get nearly as much sun as Florida does. 

“Hardly noticed you were gone,” He teases and closes his laptop. Rolling your eyes, you invite him inside. He takes the invitation with ease, slipping inside your boat as you scan around. 

“You cleaned?” You ask, the smell of his favorite cleaning products still lingering in the air. “Don’t tell me that the Tim Drake had a party in my boat house!” You gasp, looking at him. 

“Hardly,” He nudges you aside so he can sit on the couch bench. “You had some food going bad so I figured I might as well clean up.” He explains.

“Thanks, baby girl,” You draw out the girl, a southern twang coming through. Rolling his eyes, he watches as you kick your shoes off and toss your duffle bag into your bedroom before joining him on the couch. “How was the case?” Lugging your legs up to the spare room around you, you lay your head on his shoulder while he opens his laptop again and huffs. Not good, then. 

“It’s the Elvis guy,” You quietly sing as he’s watching the footage again; that alone answers your question. The case isn’t even close to being finished. Yikes. 

“It’s not him.” He insists, mindlessly scrolling through the stolen footage. “I’m starting to lean towards the woman I interviewed first, but I’m sure I’ll solve it before tomorrow.” As he speaks he’s biting back a yawn. 

“Wanna take a nap, clear your head and shit?” You ask as you stand up. It was a long drive from Florida to Gotham and you were honestly beat. Probably another hour or so before your body took over and you knocked out. 

“Of course,” He grins and you nod, taking a quick shower. 

Naps with Tim aren’t anything new. He falls asleep often (you think there’s something medically wrong going on but what do you know) and you’re not going to leave the perfect opportunity to get a little sleep slip right past you. So, he’s gotten accustomed to dropping on your shoulder and sleeping; which naturally progressed into the two of you napping on couches or beds together. But only if you were seriously beat. 

Joining Tim on your bed you find that he’s still awake but slowly falling asleep. Waiting up for you, his eyes peer towards the door as you enter and he lifts the sheets up for you. Joining him, you lay on your stomach, letting your body relax as he sleeps on his side, his back facing you. 

Rolling onto your back, you let out a small sigh and turn your head to look at him. 

“Stop staring,” He whispers, turning so now he’s facing you. With hardly open eyes, he stares at you, waiting for you to look away from him. Smiling, you make it a point to look away and turn away from him, raising the covers to your chin and trying to dig yourself deeper into the plush bed. Now he’s staring at you, almost pulled in towards you. 

Tim knows he likes you. He thinks he’s laying his hints down well enough, he thinks he’s being romantic with his actions. He’s so sure you know that you’re just waiting for the right moment to ask him. 

You aren’t. 

Because you don’t know. 

You’re not oblivious by any means, you know when someone likes you. But with Tim, that’s just how he’s always been. You’ve known him as the kid who found out Batman because he was an amazing detective, the guy you’d go to if you wanted to find something or someone. He always had those tendencies, so it didn’t make you bat an eye when you became his latest target. 

It was like his acts of service and who are you to question it? 

That’s not to say you don’t like him back. 

No, it’s not weird that you’re sharing the same bed, chest to back. Yes, there’s plenty of space around the two of you, but what’s the harm in being close? 

The harm is that Tim isn’t focusing on falling asleep. 

You’re sound asleep, blissfully unaware of his qualms but Tim won’t keep his eyes off of you. His eyes trace the strands in your hair, settle on how you’ve accidentally shifted the cover down to your stomach with how much you kick. How you hardly dried off from the shower, favoring the peaceful sleep you knew was awaiting you instead of enjoying the privacy of your bathroom. 

His eyes follow and trace your body again and he doesn’t do it with any intentions other than curious ones. 

He doesn’t know where that shirt is from, he’s helped with your laundry before and he’s never seen that shirt but it’s faded enough that he knows it’s old. The collar is stretched out and the tag is sticking out, the words all but faded. It’s old and well-loved. 

It’s probably one of the clothes you left behind in your old apartment. 

Sighing, he closes his eyes and flips to his back, trying his best to fall asleep. It’s normally not an issue for him, he can fall asleep and wake up on command most days but today is different for some reason. Maybe he’s missed you so badly that his body won’t let him sleep until it’s felt he’s had enough time spent with you to make up for the absence. 

“Can’t sleep?” You ask after he turns again, this time back to his original position. 

“Sorry,” He mutters the apology, doing his best to seem as though he was falling asleep. He flips onto his back to look at you, a tired gaze clouding your eyes. 

“It’s okay, I was hardly asleep.” You shrug and then make a face akin to a mischievous grin. “Wanna cuddle?” Looking at you, he tries to figure out if you’re joking or not. “But only if I’m a big spoon.” You add. 

“That works,” He nods and turns his back to you, awkwardly shuffling back as you shuffle forward. Humming, you wrap your left arm around him and settle your head on top of his, with your right arm acting as another pillow for his head. His hair smells like your favorite scent and you’re surprised you hadn’t realized sooner. But it is a little faint. 

“This good?” You mutter. 

“Mhmm,” He hums and you hum back, letting your eyes close again. 

—

Tim watches you as you work through the cameras; your day job is a normal, boring receptionist job at the hospital. You’re talking to a man while Tim is in the Batcave, his feet propped up on the desk and eyes strained to not blink. He’s thumbing through different angles and misusing Bruce’s tech to get information from everyone you talk to. All their records pop up to the screen on the left and he skims through them all. 

No one is dangerous so far, aside from someone who was recently treated for lice. It makes his scalp itch when he thinks about it for too long. 

“You should get a job,” Damian grunts from behind him. “This is creepy, even for you, Drake.” Tim waves him off, he’s not being weird. He’s just making sure you’re safe, that’s it. He also doesn’t care what the boy cleaning bloody swords has to say about his habits.

“I do have a job,” He mutters, switching the camera again. It’s time for your break and you’ll probably call soon. “I’m at Wayne Enterprises, running a team for the IT department.” The right screen switches to his work account where he’s running a code to fix his team's code. He’ll double-check it once he’s home. 

He watches as you fish your phone out and he prepares for the call but his phone remains uncalled. The screen is black and you’re clearly in the middle of a call, he squints and decides to check who you’re calling. It could be debt collectors or scammers, he’s just looking out for you. 

The number quickly runs through his database and he sighs, it’s fucking Bart. 

“-m, he won’t say no to you.” Bart laughs and Tim watches as you shake your head, leaning against the wall of the break room. 

“When you texted that it was an emergency, I assumed it was, you know, an emergency.” Oh, that makes more sense. Tim settled into his seat, you hadn’t preferred calling Bart over him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry! I think my fridge breaking is an emergency!” Bart shouts. “Please— ask Tim to buy me a new one! One with a screen and a double fridge. Please!”

“No-“ Bart groans loudly into the phone. “You’re not helping your case right now.” You chide.

“Frick you, man.” Bart hangs up and you stare at your screen before moving to call Tim. He grins, exiting out of your phone, and stares at his phone. It rings and he waits three whole seconds before picking up. 

“Drake is reaching new levels of creeper,” Damian tells Bruce as the older man walks into the Batcave. Tim pays no mind, walking away from the computer for privacy. “There are laws against these sorts of things.”

“Hey,” He ducks under Dick swinging around on a bar before messing with memorabilia on the shelves. “I was starting to think you forgot about me.” 

“You? Never,” 

—

You’re upset. Tim doesn’t know why but he knows you are. All of the lights are on in the boat and he can hear the bass in whatever music you’re playing. Had it been any louder it might’ve begun to rattle the windows. 

He knocks on the door for two minutes straight before he unlocks the door himself. You don’t notice, which is an issue in itself, but to your credit, you notice when he steps further inside. 

“What happened?” He carefully asks, the music lowering with several clicks from the remote. You shrug, not the worst sign of your mood, and shift over to invite him inside. “Work?” Nodding, he frowns. Of course, it would be the one day he couldn’t watch over the cameras that something would happen. 

“I got written up because I didn’t let this group of teenagers spit at me.” You explain. “You’d think working at a hospital they’d understand how nasty spit is. But apparently, they’re doctors, kids so it’s whatever.” Fiddling with your laptop, he catches the Job Finders tab hidden in a mess of random tabs. Good, he’s always hated that job for you. 

“Was it that manager with the yellow hair? Linny?” 

“It always is!” You exclaim, tossing the empty soda can into the trash can. “One more write-up and I’ll go on probation again.”

“You could come and work at Wayne Enterprises.” He offers, eyes rising slowly from the laptop to you... “I’m pretty sure I have an opening as a receptionist. Or other jobs… of course. In case you wanted a change of jobs.” You look at him, eyebrows raise and he offers a smile. 

“It is closer,” You trail off. 

“Benefits are great, too.” He grins. “And I’m not just talking about seeing me every day.” Pushing his arm, he laughs and closes your laptop. “I’m serious! You’ll get paid more, no one would yell at you because we never get anyone wanting to see us, and there’s sick time.”

“Okay, I’ll apply,” You give in and he cheers, holding you with one arm before shaking you. Laughing, you cover your mouth and push away from him. “But next week, I’m busy this week. You’ll put in a good word for me, right?”

“Of course, what else would I use my position of power for?”

“Let me shower and we can… watch a movie?” You ask and he nods, watching you leave. Once the shower turns on he fumbles with his phone. 

“B, can you give me a receptionist?… No, I know there’s no need but I kinda told (Y/n)—… Okay, and? Like you haven’t lied to anyone!… Please, I’m sorry. Just can you make that a job?… Oh, thank god!” 

—

A week later, Tim helps you send in a resume. Of course, since the official announcement of a new position, there have been dozens of applications. All of which Tim is in charge of reviewing. Not that you would know. 

You’re relieved when you get the interview— put in your two weeks when you’re told you’ve made it to the final interview stage— and sit with Tim while you’re waiting to hear if you got the job. 

Your phone rings as you’re pacing around the boat, second-guessing putting in your two weeks. Not really, though, because Linny had given you another write-up for clocking back in from lunch a minute late. You have Tim answer it for you and he puts it on speaker, watching as you hear the news you’ve gotten the job. 

“Okay, thank you so much!” Ending the call, you stare at Tim slack-jawed. “Tim, I could kiss you!” He stares at you for a moment before he shrugs. 

“Why don’t you?” He asks and you blink before licking your lips. His eyes follow before he does the same. “Not that you have to, because you got the job. I wouldn’t expect anything just because I put in a good word for you.”

“Of course,” You nod. “But is it weird that I still want to?”

“No,” He shakes his head, stepping closer. 

“Cool,” Tentatively, you cup his face and lean in. He meets you, eyes immediately closing as you kiss. His hands find yours, moving it down to his waist. He holds you there, relishing this feeling.

[deadsetobsessions]

Between the whole “clone trying to kill her original version” thing and the whole “trying to find herself after being freed from the millionaire fruit loop halfa” thing, Danielle “Ellie” Phantom figured that she’d fit right in with Gotham.

They’ve got shades, a concerning amount of undead, and the people there seem to have traumatic backstories galore. Perfect.

Danny might die again if she told him where she’s staying, though. So she won’t tell him!

Ellie touched down in an alley near the first bus stop into Gotham, returning to the visible spectrum and returning her intangibility. She wanted to explore everything, and where better to start than the entrance of Gotham?

She slips out of the alley, walking past the terrified looking tourists. Ellie ignores the smell of soot they gave off, attributing correctly that it came from the explosion she heard before she approached Gotham. The city, like any other major city, was littered with trash and odd bits of metal. There’s graffiti too, but less so than the sunnier cities. The clouds- and smog, because Ellie could smell it miles away from the city- that obscured the sky left the city in a chilling atmosphere. Hazy. Like, a graveyard at dawn. Perfect for someone like Ellie.

It’s so different from Amity, stone where she dreaded plaster, gloom and doom where she dreaded seeing sunshine she couldn’t reach. 

Ellie wandered, under bridges, and in between paths. She danced through shootouts, glides past brawls, laughs when pick pockets find their hands empty after bumping into her.

She gets a coffee and one of those delicious lemon bars, with Vlad’s money. Hers, now that Tucker’s gotten his hands on Vlad’s inner systems. The barista gives her a suspicious look, but she brings out her strongest midwestern accent and the look melts into exasperation. And pity, but Ellie doesn’t really care about that. She “ooh’s and ahh’s” at the grimy stone, the gothic inspired architecture that Sam would kill to experience, goggles at the boarded up buildings. There’s a cathedral or two or five, she doesn’t remember, but the pretty glass seems to be broken at most of them. She wonders what happened. Then she remembers that there are vigilantes here, and concludes that she has to remember to look up more often. A giant clock-tower. A district with less people and fancier homes. A university! She might apply after she’s done traveling around and have gotten her GED.

Her shoes pound the pavement, something about the effort it takes to take a step burns in her soul. Yes, this is what it means to be free. She kicks the knees of two would be robbers in as she passes them on her way to purchasing three bars of the best chocolates she’s had in her short existence.

The cashier looks at her like she’s odd. Oh, well.

And then night falls. Ancients, does the city truly come alive. There are screams and sirens and surges in ectoplasm that balances her essence of being out. Ellie, with a new pep in her step, follows the trail of ectoplasm right into an area called “Crime Alley.”

“It feels almost like… a haunt…?”

Ellie hums and keeps walking. Maybe this is the territory of one of the undead Gothamites…?

She’s got a bit of Danny’s saving people thing after all, because the three bars of candy on her is gone in minutes to children with hollow cheek and dead eyes. 



Ellie startles backwards as a body slams onto the pavement in front of her, barely missing the risen steps of the building they were in front of.

“Oh.” She says. Because this is one of the Undead. And he’s Red Hood. Danny is going to flip.

“Run- run, kid.”

Ellie tilts her head. “And why would I do that?”

“You’re gonna get hurt, brat!” The man barks, and winces as his ribs shuttered. The red helmet’s tinny voice doesn’t intimidate her nor does it hide the concern and fear bleeding into the guy’s body language.

“Not really?”

And with that, Ellie slams her elbow into Goon 1, knocking him straight into another building. Goon 2 tries to grab her and she phases out of his reach, floating upwards and slamming her fist into his face. He joins Goon 1 in decorating that building’s new mural, called the two dumbasses that picked a fight with a wandering Ellie.

Hood watches her, cradling his ribs.

“You a meta?” He grumbled at her, wheezing as she crouched down and poked his sides. He smacks her hand away.

Ellie, who has clearly spent too much time near Danny, replies, “Being dead is a medical condition.” without missing a single beat.

Hood, on the other hand, misses several beats.

“What?”

Ellie barrels on, amused at his fumble. “Did you know you died?”

Hood looks at her and Ellie swears she can see the dumbfounded expression.

Ellie laughs, free and sharp. Yes, Gotham is nothing like Amity.

[favoritebatfam]

OK, do you know how there’s so much age Fuckery in Canon?

I’m thinking that’s because no one actually has that many legal documents.

Dick Grayson was born in a circus. I don’t know if he was born in a hospital or if it was at homebirth, but it is also kind of likely and (I read it in a fic somewhere) where his parents lied about his age so that he could get away with performing.

Jason Todd was a crime Alley kid who is unceremoniously adopted. He is also still legally dead, and I feel like it is heavily debated in the family if you can count those months that he was dead as him living, or if they shifted his birthday somehow. Bonus points if you think about the post floating around that age resets after you end up in the pit so Jason is now the youngest.

Tim Drake uns so many secret identity scams, that I will not be surprised if he’s genuinely forgotten how old he is. I mean, Janet and Jack could’ve also done the same thing that the Grayson‘s dead and lie about ages so their son would be taken more seriously as an adult and just never remember afterward.

Damian Wayne tends to have more consistent ages, but I still think that his aging might be a little messed up due to the fact he was grown inside of a tube. This is straight from the comics. We don’t know if he came out as a baby, or he came out as a toddler. For all we know, he came out as like a five-year-old because Ra Al Ghul didn’t want to have to deal with his heir being weak.

With Bruce and Alfred, it’s a little hard to justify the age fuckery, but I’ve come up with some ideas things that might help.

I think that Bruce kind of stopped celebrating his birthday after his parents died. He might’ve picked up celebrating again after he adopted dick, but he probably doesn’t put any candles on a cake or anything or at least any number candle. Probably a lot of people have also forgotten how old he is, and a lot of the family are trying to look through newspapers to find out about Bruce’s birth. There could also be some sort of thing where there’s a debate about time travel counting towards his age and if he is older than he is supposed to be or younger or whatever.

Alfred just straight up immortal. he’s done so much in his life that it’s kind of hard to figure out how old or young he could be. I’ve seen a couple different theories floating around where He got blessed by some being, or if you go with the Gotham is sentient theory, Gotham is slowing both his and Bruce’s aging. Also, Alfred is very strong and has to be very fast in order to be able to clean all of the manner and not get sick or die.

Actually, this is kind of pointing towards maybe the bat family having so much to do with the general curses of Gotham or maybe even blessings from being safe, helped that they probably have fucked up ages. I genuinely don’t know. I am sleep deprived and very curious now and will probably make a skit later after I take a nap or look through more Tumblr posts.

Enjoy my ramblings.

[cutebat]

Hii!❤️🖤

This is my first request ever, and sorry if it's not really something you feel like writing, but I really live your writing style and I think that you write the boys the best! (And this thoughts been eating away at my brain for a bit)

So what if the bat's take in a little reader who seems super innocent and she (it doesn't have to be a she if ya don't want) has Deadpool's healing abilities. Like she just casually gets a limb cut off in a fight trying to protect one of the boys and she acts like nothing really is wrong- or she gets shot in the head and sits up a minute later and straight up laughs seeing everyone's sheer panic because she has the same mindset as a gremlin wanting to thrive in the chaos. Do ya think the boys will let her go on missions with them due to her not being able to die? Or will they try (and probably fail) to lock her away in the manor for her own good?

Warnings: Yandere, manipulation, a little bit of blood, accidentally hurting someone, using powers for the wrong people

Spoilers for my original Batgirl story!

After your father was banished and your mother imprisoned, you were now under the roof of the League of Assassins, living with Lady Shiva. Throughout your life, you've been treated like an outcast by basically everyone at that exact area she had to spend your childhood at.

During those times, something felt strange about you.

Whenever one of the assassins came back injured, you curiously stepped forward them and placed your hand onto their wound. The next second, it was gone. The wound.

The next thing happening is you being in the medical bay, in the room full of injured assassins.

One of them told you to touch an injured assassin with a damaged leg. You were hesitant, but you were forced to step forward and place your hand onto the leg. The next second, it was healed.

You were then tested to see what kind of symptoms you have, and the results turned out that you have the ability to heal any kind of injury once you touch it.

Every time when an injured assassin comes back from a job, Shiva would make you stop what you are doing and quickly place your hand on that bloody part of their body, disgusting or not.

However, there are some side effects to your special abilities.

Each time you heal a person, your energy will decrease rapidly, which means you can't heal more and more people.

Eventually, you grew of being used like this. So, you decided to run away.

It was basically a risk of your life, but you eventually made it out of the city of 'Eth Alth'eban and tried to find yourself a new home.

As soon as you landed in Gotham City, you were basically trying to hide yourself from the world. You tried hiding yourself in various abandoned buildings, alleyways, etc.

Until you found a tall figure looming over your crouched form.

"Are you alright?"

The deep voice asks as he reaches out to you, which makes you jolt away and hide behind some trash bags.

However, the figure pulled your small frame out of your hiding spot and held you like an injured kitten.

"It seems that you've been out here for quite a long time. Come on, let me bring you home."

He tells you before he walks off with you, shaking in his arms as he makes a call.

"Alfred, bring everyone back at the manor. We finally found her."

~~~~~

I'm sorry if this was too short!

[jasmines-library]

Ask Again Later

WHUMPTOBER DAY 31. Prompt: Forced to choose.

Fandom: Batfam.

Summary: You are being flooded with threats. Text after text after text or headings about how your brothers were going to die if you didn’t make a descision. It was simple. Your life, or theirs.

Warnings: Blood, death, grief.

Word count: 1.1k (I know it’s short I’m sorry but it’s angsty!)

Note: Annd with that the whumptober season has come to an end. I just want to say a huge thank you. You guys are all incredible and the support I have gotten from you all is insane. I’m looking forward to working on requests now and to keep writing my own little fantasies for you all.

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

“Fuck.”

You were stuck. A life threatening decision looming over your head like a dark cloud about five minutes before it is about to rain. Your foot bounced anxiously against the floor as you stared at your phone, rolling it around in your hand. You hadn’t moved much since the first one came through. It buzzed again. With trembling fingers you scanned the words on the screen.

‘Tick Tock, little Bat.’

You weren’t sure entirely how you had ended up in this predicament. One minute you were just going about your business in the manor and the next you found yourself locked up in your room with the message glowing brightly on your screen.

The message was dark and foreboding and no matter how hard you tried to shake it from your mind it came back. They were threatening to kill your brothers. One text after the next filled to the brim of details of how they wanted to carve them to pieces. Fear stuck you like a hammer as they continued to flood in, text after text after text each ending with the same haunting line.

‘It’s up to you whether they live or die. Choose wisely, Wayne. Your time is running out.’

In theory, the choice was simple. It was your life for theirs. And you knew what you were supposed to choose… but there were so many complexities woven within the situation that made it hard to think straight. In hindsight, you would have made the choice in a heartbeat. You would have given your life for theirs any day, but you couldn’t leave them like this not so suddenly. The four of them were away on patrol. Halloween was a busy night for the Bats. With so many people out, it took as many hands as possible to ensure Gotham’s safety. It was your job to monitor the screens, but you were too preoccupied with the text messages.

It was when the picture of Damian came flashing though that things shifted. This was no joke. They had eyes on you and your brothers and had the power to end you all with a with a snap of their fingers

You sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of your nose as you pondered. You knew you would have to make the decision soon, but it was a double negative. Stay, and risk the lives of your brothers, or go and send them into a spiral of sudden grief. It felt so cruel to leave them without an explanation, but it felt even cruller to let them die when you had the power to stop such things occurring.

You always took pleasure in the little details. The way that Damian hid his little smile behind his hand after he had pretended he wasn’t interested. The way that Dick always seemed to hum the same song over and over for days on end until finally he would move into the next and the cycle would begin again. And then there was Jason’s hair that was always just a little bit too long so that it dangled over his eyes and he constantly had to brush it out of his face. You would miss the little moments deeply. Spending time with your brothers was something that you cherished deeply, even if they more often than not contained childish bickering. You smiled at the memories but it quickly morphed into a deep frown.

You had made your decision.

Pushing the chair out from under the table with a groan as it shifted beneath your weight, you reached for a pen and paper and began to write, not bothering to wipe your tears as you scrawled across the page. You wrote six notes. One for each of your brothers, one for Bruce and Alfred.

After you had done that you slid them beneath the respective doors and shrugged in your coat. You sniffled taking one last look at your home before disappearing into the night to seal your fate.

~~

The wind howled against your skin, whipping around your body as you trudged. You had to pull your coat up to hide your face. You knew that if you were seen there was no going back. Your brothers would be able to convince you to turn back. But you knew that wasn’t an option. As your drew nearer to the rendezvous point, your heart dropped.

Then the hooded figure appeared from the building and froze. Taking them in completely. You took a shuddering breath, sending the other two spill in from behind you to surround you. There was no going back now.

Their grip was harsh on your arm as they dragged you through the twisting corridors. They had searched your body for weapons, stripping you of the small dagger you had tucked away in your boot.

They led to a room lit by flickering golden candlelight. The three of them inched you into the middle of the room before dropping their cloaks.

“Begin.” One of them hissed from behind a mask.

And suddenly your body was consumed in a pain so violent that you were forced to your knees.

~~~

“Y/N?” Jason called out. It was unusually quiet in the manor. The lights were out and there was no sign that you were around besides a lukewarm mug of coffee discarded by the computer.

Tim bumped into his brother as he turned the corner. “Have you seen her?” He asked. “I can’t find her anywhere.”

Jason shook his head, concern bubbling up in his stomach. “No.”

“Maybe she’s in her room?”

The two of them barged up the stairs and turned into your room only to find Damian slipping out of your room. The lights were off. You weren’t home.

It was at that fateful moment that Dick came out of his room with shaky hands. He was holding the folded, tear stained paper. He had found the letter. With bloodshot eyes he turned to his younger brothers. “She’s gone.”

The Manor wept that night. No body slept as their body wracked with sobs that wailed throughout the walls. The was a dark hole left that your light had filled. It was as though someone had sniffed out a candle, stripping the vigilantes of any joy and light that they once had. You were gone, and with you your spirit and hope and the Wayne’s would never be the same again.

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY THIRTY

Super awesome Taglist:

@senjoritanana

@deans-spinster-witch

@amaryllis23

[e-nonsense]

─── 𝘴𝘰 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺

pairing. littleprince!jason todd x witch!reader

summary. royal au. insane, you were crazy and jason loved you for it. so if you were willing to wage war on gotham he was more than ready to stand by you. (previous part)

warnings. pet names: little pet, darling. depictions of witchcraft, war/violence (medieval), death, declaration of war

a/n. picture above is what i imagine the described ‘castle’ to be. lmao the lore has expanded

wc. 1.4k not proofread.

The doors to the castle slammed open, creating a loud echoing noise that startled everyone in the vicinity. Knights were on guard, stepping in front of the royal family as maids scrambled away.

At the door stood a group of strangely dressed people, with pointy ears and purple eyes shining dangerously, and in the centre stood you. Fingers clenched around your blade, as you stepped forwards.

“How dare you,” your voice echoed dauntingly , cold and icy, eyes filled with venom as you stared straight at Bruce. “You killed a child, Wayne.”

Bruce merely scoffed, “that was no child. The one with scales and a tail? A monster.” Eyes flickering to the limp body carried in the arms of the tall beast behind you.

“I warned you, one foot out of line and that is it.” You reply, John’s eyes snap to you, a sense of dread settling in his stomach.

“Kid—” the older man whispered, cutting himself off at the sight of your eyes.

“Then mark today the end of peace,” you speak, hood falling off, your hair streaked with gold. “I’ve tried to keep peace, but ever since your father’s reign my people have not known peace.”

Jason stood to his father’s left, looking between you and Bruce.

“From this day forth, neither will yours.” Just as those words are spoken screams and the smell of smoke come from afar.

“No,” Bruce mutter, eyes widening as he rushes past people and you to look outside at the village of innocent people and a large blue dragon spitting black fire onto the village.

“Stop— stop this madness.” Bruce hisses, grabbing you by the collar, hissing as he feels his hand burn at the touch. “Impure, stop it.”

You only laugh at him, eyes filled with madness as your people stand behind you protecting you from the knights, “my madness has only just begun.”

—

“You’re sure about this?” Nicola, a young siren asked, her head peeping out of the water. “If you’re sure we’ll help,” she adds.

“I’m tired of standing by and letting our people die,” you murmur, eyes downcast, staring at the young mer-children swimming around the large lake that leads out to the ocean.

“Then we’re with you, I’ll tell my father of your decision. We’ll keep them off the water.” She reassures, placing a gentle hand on your knee. “Thank you for fighting for us.” She whispers before ducking under the water and swimming off, the younger merpeople swimming after her.

You stood up, boots making a satisfying click against the wooden pier as you walked towards the forest to warn the creatures that lived there of the oncoming war.

“You declared war?” The old centaur asked, he knew you weren’t one to resort to violence.

“I was fueled by my rage, Chiron.” You mutter, “you didn’t see it. They killed him because he looked different. His mother, you didn’t see it, the cries and screams. But i understand if you want to leave.”

Chiron nods in understanding, placing a hand on your shoulder, “its okay.”

“If any of the others want to leave be by the statue at sunrise tomorrow. We’ll be sending those who don’t want to fight away, but if you decide to stay go to the mountain tops, the council is being reforged.”

He nodded, looking past the trees to the beautiful large abandoned castle sitting atop the mountain, a bridge built around it that allowed the water to fall freely off the mountain.

“I’ll tell them, save me a seat at your council.” He smiles before heading back, deeper into the forest.

—

Your fingers quivered with unease, stepping onto the abandoned land, the castle preserved with your ancestors magic, the magical pushed back against your touch, the magic only sensed as if it were a sixth sense for you.

You placed your hands firmly against the invisible wall, fingers glowing gold as your magic illuminated the barrier in gold before the gold shattered against your palms, sparks of ashy magic, over a thousand years old falling to pieces. The preservation spell destroyed.

Other mythical creatures watched in awe as the stone dragon in the courtyard cracked, revealing the golden scales beneath it and a pair of beady gold eyes as its wing shot out and everyone stumbled back as the dragon growled. It’s eyes locking on you and it steps forward, leaning its head down to look at you curiously before nudging your body with its enormous head and growling again.

Chiron chuckled, recognising the dragon from a thousand years ago. “You waited for her,” he muttered curiously, watching as the dragon nudged you again.

Her. By her, the old centaur didn’t mean you. No he meant the warrior from a thousand lives ago. Reborn time and time again. Even death wouldn’t be able to seperate friends like them.

The dragon grumbled, acting more like a puppy than a beast as it pushed you forward to the castles grand gold doors.

“This way?” You raise a brow as the dragon leads you past the courtyard to the large doors, the dragon huffs , nudging the doors to open them for you.

The interior of the palace is dark, not a spec of dust fallen anywhere, floors marble floors cracked and filled in with gold. And the walls painted grey. The people gathered behind you, gaping at the infrastructure with wonder.

“Let’s get started.”

—

War plans. Planning for war. Murder. Bloodshed. Jason. Sleep escaped you, your friends all tucked away around the castle. Snoozing away as you continued to stare at the papers in front of you.

So far your search for a plan was coming back with nothing. Dragons, sure. What would the humans do? Shoot them down with their monstrous contraptions.

The sirens? Pirates have been hunting them for years, nets and fire would do to easily kill them. Fairies and pixies, squashed like bugs. Witches, hunted like animals.

“Thought you’d be asleep by now, but I should’ve known better than to assume you’d actually sleep.” A voice cuts out, causing you to snap your head up, the air leaving your lungs as you feel yourself fall apart finally.

“Jason,” I whisper softly. Standing up and barrelling into his arms, the bigger man barely moving as you do so.

“Hey sweetheart,” he mumbles, kissing the top of your head. His arms wind around your hips, holding you against him, “my pretty, crazy sweetheart.” He teases.

“You came, I thought—” he cuts you off almost immediately.

“That I’d stay with Bruce and let him try and kill you?” Jason finishes, “hell no, baby. I’m on your side.. no matter how psycho your side might get.”

You chuckle at that, still not moving an inch out of his arms. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispers gently, a stark contrast to his usual brazen self. “What the hell is that?”

You hum, tilting your head to look at the dragon. “Ignore her, she’s possessive.” You mutter and Jason raises a brow sceptically, “uh huh..”

“Let’s go inside.. away from the creepy dragon.” Jason suggests, holding you tighter and pulling you inside, away from the balcony.

—

The morning started with an argument. Your friends and allies voicing their distrust in your human companion, irritating you further. “I trust him, and you trust me, no?” You question those around you, Jason stood protectively at your side. Murmurs of agreement followed your question, a few of them nodding. “Then believe me when i tell you he won’t betray us.” More grumbled responses followed.

“Lovely, now. We have a war to prepare for, and if we’re not ready lord knows what’ll happen.”

And so the war plan began, arguments ensued about the strategy.

You started with the plans for training the people for war, who would train each segment of creatures and what they’d teach. Then it was decided, that training would be spilt into groups of each magical being and each of them would learn how to work with each other. Because one mistake could cost the war.

The people here looked to you, for safety, hope, they looked at you like they were ready to put their lives in your hands and it scared you. Having so many people believe in you when you can’t believe in yourself.

“Breathe,” Jason whispers in your ear, his hand finding its way to your thigh. “Breathe with me, you’re not alone. Look around, we all stand with you.”

Jason presses a kiss against your jaw, “I’ll never leave your side again.”

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[stealingyourbones]

TW for mild unreality

So in a lot of DP x DC crossovers I notice that everyone instantly makes the connection of infinite realms = ghosts. But what if they didn't? I mean, to most humans ghost equals dead person. Not everyone in the infinite realms is dead.

Instead, what if everyone thought it was a realm similar to the Fae Realms? A place where everything is only as real as you want it to be, where the land itself lives and breathes and changes it's form every which when. Perhaps that's why the Fentons think of ghosts as mischievous semi-sentient tricksters, they misread some older texts talking about them.

And they could be right in a way. What if dead ghosts are actually the souls of people who caught the attention of the realms/someone in them and so the realms grabbed their soul upon death to keep. If liminality means you're a guaranteed ghost then maybe that's the realms' way of keeping track of Interesting People so they know when they're up for grabs (they were patient and let you live out your life without interference, it's only polite).

But then, why are ghosts so quick to jump to fistfights now instead of battles of wit? Well that's because of Pariah Dark. The older kings were all the cleverest, the smartest, and perhaps Pariah was clever in a way (he turned a battle of wits he would surely lose into a battle of power after all, and that takes some wit in and of itself) but he valued power and physical might more and so the realms changed to reflect that. And then Danny came along. A small baby child who beat Pariah AT HIS OWN GAME. A child who employs both might and wit in equal measure because he knows the value of both. That small child, king of Ice and Snow, Little Prince, Boy King, a Strategist, a Warrior, that tiny kid is now the King. And the realms change once more to reflect that.

So when Danny is crowned King the ghost zone goes back to being similar to Faerie, only with more fights because Danny is not afraid to straight up punch someone (he's kinda feral like that).

So on the DC side of things maybe there's a summoning (accidental or cult induced), or Danny ends up in the watchtower/Gotham/important place, or maybe the League decide they have enough time to scout out Amity Park and figure out what's going on. They meet Danny, who calls himself a ghost, and are like "You're not like the other ghosts I've met but I don't know enough to refute that" and eventually it gets back to Constantine about this "ghost" boy, and he FREAKS OUT. This is an Infinite Realms denizen, a people similar to Unseelie Sidhe in all the legends, him being a ghost just means he was (or would be, time likes to wander in the realms. Sometimes the present is the future and that past has Not Yet Occurred) interesting enough to nab when he died! And they've been TALKING to him?? That's how you get their attention! You don't want their attention! It's bad enough that Red Hood has a guaranteed fast track there with the sheer amount of Realms Energy swirling around him ever since his resurrection he doesn't need any more people putting up massive I AM HERE signs willy nilly! Just because most denizens are willing to wait until you die to try and steal you away, that doesn't mean that all of them are. And now that Pariah Dark is gone, and the New King is perfectly willing to entertain wit and humor in his court once more, well. It's free real estate.

TLDR the Infinite Realms are Fae-Adjacent and Constantine is Terrified.

I-

this is just incredible. I have no words. I am in awe.

[howparadoxical]

There's something about the rare strongman!Bruce fanart I find that makes me insane. Then I started thinking about it and like? Bruce in the circus would be so good? and really easy to incorporate into a timeline like:

Imagine Bruce runs away at 15

He has just come back from being “transferred” to Gotham Academy from a boarding school

This is accompanied by Alfred expressing his disappointment. Bruce had already been thinking about being a burden and leaving and while in the main timeline he waits til graduating he kinda snaps

He comes across the circus and through means, I don’t think are particularly interesting, Bruce convinces them to let him tag along

“What would the boy do?”

“He could be a strongman.”

Both look over at awkward mid-growth spirt Bruce.

“Really?”

“Ay, he’s got the build for it.”

Bam! Bruce is in the circus.

He’s training to be a strongman but in the meantime excels at other tasks, including but not limited to: 

Juggling, knife throwing, animal handling, tightrope walking etc,

Not to mention already can bookkeep and can pick up languages like popcorn

Essentially good at most things except general clownery and more artistic performances like silks.

The general demographics at either about at least 10 years his senior or his junior.

Kids wise, there's just him and of course 4-year-old Dick

When Dick meets Bruce he’s like “this is my new best friend.” meanwhile Bruce is like “oh fuck, oh fuck, what the fuck do I do with a child”

When Dick is around 8 Bruce is forced to acknowledge that Dick is also his best friend and boy doesn’t that make a 19 yr old feel lame

Despite all this, Bruce is in an environment where there’s no pressure to be a Wayne and gets a clean start, which does wonders for him

Still pushes himself out of guilt and anger but now instead of being shammed for it, the people around him just redirect it

Bruce? Getting a supportive environment to train in? Sure hope that doesn’t destroy the universe

Welp, about that

Bruce stays with the circus consistently for years but disappears for a couple of months when he turns 18 (he went back to Gotham to a) prove he’s fine and b)claim his inheritance. 

Does this for a couple of reasons, one of which is that he finds out the circus is losing money and goes back so he can figure out some kind of investment to help

While there, realizes Gotham has gotten bad and is hit with that classic “oh god I’ve been happy while people are suffering I am a horrible person”

So while he does go back to Hailey’s, he ends up leaving more often as he finds different teachers and is unknowingly, officially on the path to Batman™ 

Right around 20 Bruce straight up fully disappears with barely a word as he ends up involved fully with the League of Shadows

Comes out of it a year later

The next time the circus sees him, they are performing in Gotham 

Good news is, the circus doesn’t get blackmailed/pays off protection

The Grayson’s rope doesn’t snap! Yay!

Bad news: someone tries to blow up the circus during their performance. Not only do the Grayson’s die but also the circus almost has to close down. 

The rest follows somewhat similarly but with nuance I’ve run out of room to go into. 

Hey, its an AU, not a fix-it fic :) 

[dairy-farmer]

Another soulmate au ask lol

Theres a lot of angst and drama potential for bats stealing eachothers soulmates (Tim ofc). Especially considering how often they die/fake their death/fake being evil/straight up alienates everyone they care about

Jaytim is a tragic example. Never even got to know eachother and then his dad or brother swoops in to *comfort* Jasons grieving kid soulmate? Cue typical Red Hood shenanigans when Jason returns. Maybe in his rage he feels he has to punish his soulmate, or maybe he just wants to kill anyone who touched him. Either way, he's stealing him away. (Also it would really fuck with Jasons inferiority complex if even his literal soulmate seemingly fell for perfect Dick Grayson)

Bruce has abandoned his kids plenty of times, like when he was accused of murder or when he made JPV batman. Plenty of opportunity Dick to snatch up Bruce's poor neglected soulmate. Dick doesn't have one. And really, Tim should be Dick's, considering how they met and how Dick shaped Tim's whole world.

The Brucequest/Red Robin era is a good time for Jason to snatch up Tim (from whoever he belongs to in this scenario). He could also suceed in either seducing Tim, or claiming Tim by force during the battle of the cowl.

Alternatively, since there is such an age-difference vetween Tim and his soulmate (either Dick or Bruce), Tim and Jason (pre-death) organically fall in love instead. His soulmate just has to bitterly stand by and try to not sabotage his son/brother's happiness.

I also like a reverse robin version of this where either Bruce or Damian is Tim's soulmate. Tim is some jaded Red Hood type of vigilante and having any kind of relationship with those two is out of the question if he can help it (no matter how hard they try to win him back). But who can resist the sunshine of a persistent young Dick Grayson? All Tim did was help him get justice for his parents.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!THE BATS STEALING EACH OTHERS SOULMATE IS SOOOO GOOD!!!!😍😍😍😍😍😍!!!!!

the dicktim one especially!!!! the idea of dick NOT having a soulmate makes so much sense- his bad luck with love, the way it always fizzles out, the way he's on and off again with girlfriends but never able to really lock it down.

in many ways people see dick as just a "fun time" rather than a serious partner. afterall why would they want dick when they already have their soulmates destined for them.

not dick though. dick doesn't have a soulmate. and while it's not particularly rare it is very uncommon. there are support groups of course, blogs with people living life eternally without a soulmate, trying to make it seem like its not so bad. and most days dick tries not to get too down about it. but its hard.

he's tried not to be resentful towards bruce about it.

bruce, unlike dick, DID have a soulmate. in fact he had two.

his cup floweth over and dick tried so hard not to think badly of bruce because of it because it really seemed that things ALWAYS worked out for bruce. being born handsome, a billionaire, and an overflow of soulmates.

he doesn't learn tim is bruce's other soulmates until he's been robin for awhile.

it's pretty widely acknowledged by gotham and everyone that selina kyle is bruce wayne's soulmate and the two of them gallivant through galas and rooftops whenever the two are in the middle of one of their affairs that comes like a seasonal bout of depression.

as a teenager dick had always quietly pitied bruce's other unnamed soulmate who'd be competing against selina for the scraps of a place in bruce's heart.

never did dick expect to be spending a saturday night hanging out with them while bruce was out with catwoman given the rumors she'd blown back into town.

dick feels a sort of...heaviness sitting with tim and sorting through the manor's dvd collection while tim's soulmate was out messing around.

of course nothing between bruce and tim could happen- tim was thirteen. but still....it was a matter of respect.

dick didn't feel good knowing bruce was blatantly messing around in front of his soulmates face it just felt...wrong.

but dick does not say this. does not confront bruce about it because he already knows what bruce would say. something cutting and deep because the two of them aren't on the best of terms.

bruce could be so unthinkingly cruel and dick just knew he'd use the sore spot of dick not having a soulmate to question what right dick had to accuse bruce of being cruel to his soulmate.

and maybe he was right. maybe bruce's past behavior with him or with jason had no bearing on how he'd treat tim.

dick should've known he'd be wrong.

bruce drops tim at the slightest inconvenience, foisting him onto dick or onto alfred.

often times dick patrols with tim while bruce is off on one of his lone quests.

dick knows that things between tim and bruce are...weird.

the whole fact that they're soulmates also doesn't help.

but dick notices the stuff. notices how bruce has incredibly...strict expectations of tim.

and dick knows it's partly because of the loss of jason but also he's almost certain that tim's role as his soulmate also plays a role.

dick knows that the reason bruce and selina have frequent fallouts is because bruce wants selina to be a certain way and she adamantly refuses to be.

but tim....if bruce asked him to jump tim would beg to know how high. tim bleeds a need to be useful to bruce, to meet his expectations.

often that's what he and tim talk about, tim asking dick how he can be a better robin.

and dick, god. he pities the poor thing for having bruce for a soulmate. for being eternally tied to someone who would always find him wanting no matter how hard he tried.

dick should know. he'd been in tim's shoes.

so dick...tries to be nice. that's it that's all he tried to do at first.

opening his home, offering warm meals, kindness, affection. the sort of thing dick would have liked someone to do for him.

dick doesn't even realize he's trying to poach tim away from bruce until he's spending an afternoon just quietly thinking of tim.

he and tim are tied together in such remarkable ways. tim was there, on that night the day dick lost everything and his life changed forever.

tim was there, has been there, in the backgrounds and shadows all of dick's life. dick once goes into tim's room and sees his posters and 'flying graysons!' memorabilia still hanging, and it sticks in his head for days.

tim is soft and sweet and he soaks up dick's attention. he plays with dick and rough houses, laughs, and makes fun of him and he's...so easy to love.

and tim is young and he's so unsure of the bigger 'adult' world that bruce has locked him out of as a soulmate and so...when he comes to dick curious and full of questions...dick helps.

and afterward while he's lying in bed naked with tim fast asleep on top of him he doesn't feel...bad about it.

dick feels no guilt over fucking bruce's soulmate, he should.

yet dick finds it so easy to do. again and again.

sex with tim is good, it's perfect, its better than anything that dick has ever felt before.

maybe it's because tim is so new at it and adorably clumsy. the way he straddles dick's hips and bounces up and down, struggling to find a good rhythm of fucking himself on dick's cock. tim fits like a glove around dick, it's like his little cunt was made for him.

dick marvels at tim's adorable tits, so small and so pink and easily distressed when dick gropes one to keep tim's body pinned as he kneels between his legs and fucks all the way into tim's warm, velvety hole. tim's cunt gets so red and throbs from the friction of dick taking him over and over but tim never once complains.

only moaning and whining, arching and making sweet little sounds to ask for more, to ask for him to keep going.

kids, dick couldn't help but chuckle.

tim is young and puberty is a killer so more often than not tim is writing on him and trying slip their clothes off because he's a budding little nymph.

and dick well...it's the first time he's had a partner who can actually satiate his sexual appetite.

things with tim are good. bruce is barely even a thought to either of them.

dick is breathing hard with an iron grip on tim's waist, snapping his hips hard and fast against tim to bury his cock as deep as it will go while tim makes softly gutted noises. dick is basically operating on a purely primal, animal brain when his detective senses tell him he's being watched.

it's not enough for him to stop though. but to avoid tim noticing and panicking dick pulls him into a deep kiss, swallowing his sweet noises as he slows his thrusts into a grind. he gently fucks tim's tender hole, groaning at tim weakly clenching around him, he sweet attempts to help dick cum.

the feeling of eyes on the back of his head intensifies.

dick has an idea of who's watching them but wants to save tim from the confrontation so he puts his back into it.

he speeds up, punching his cock into tim at a punishing pace, staring down at the pink, wet twitching seam swallowing him and letting a wad of spit fall out of his mouth and land directly on tim's baby clit.

dick's fingers are calloused and rough and tim can't help the startled bunny noise he makes when dick starts pressing down on his clit at the same time as he grinds in. the friction has tim's body trembling.

dick is not a sweet and kind lover. he is hard and fast and often times cruel with the way he bends and fucks and plays.

but tim never denies him not even in inch of his body to do with as he pleases.

and as thanks dick fucks tim so hard his eyes roll to the back of his skull when he passes out.

dick finishes quickly afterwards, muffling his grunts behind bitten lips as he wetly slaps his hips together with tim's after every wave of his orgams.

tim's poor pussy is still twitching when he pulls out, red like a freshly spanked bottom and puffy. dick delightedly watches fresh cum drip out in thick spurts for a few seconds before pulling out a plush blanket and covering tim's nude body.

then he makes his way to the fire escape window by his kitchen where bruce is waiting for him, his lips pressed so tightly together they're white.

it's hard to keep their voices down, bruce half dragging dick out so they can talk freely on the roof.

dick knows why bruce is upset. it's probably not a good feeling to walk in on your soulmate getting fucked by your son.

"what is the matter with you?" bruce asks, voice deep and ragged like a bear's. "tim is a child-"

and dick doesn't try to stop the scoff that rips out of him. tim's age is hardly a factor. plenty of soulmates with age gaps start fucking out of the gate.

bruce quietly stares at him, the air around them heavy.

"tim is not your soulmate."

and that dick adamantly denies. because he is. he IS.

dick can feel it. he knows it like he knows his own hands.

what he and tim have is real. and dick was not going to stop just because bruce was unhappy that dick was giving his spare the time of day.

at that bruce's jaw tightens. and dick can tell he's restraining himself from doing or saying something.

bruce says nothing.

so dick turns to leave. he can feel this won't be the last time they'll have this conversation. dick can feel it.

but for the moment it doesn't matter.

dick's soulmate is wating for him.

[khthonic-echo]

I am from the bottom of my heart begging batfans who have never read a Green Lantern comic in their lives to get their shit straight about Hal Jordan

Hal Jordan and Batman do not hate each other. And if they did, it wouldn’t solely be because Hal is an arrogant ass. If anything they are BOTH pricks in ways literally designed to grate on each other!

Hal and Bruce are thematic opposites. GL= light, emotion & color. Bats= darkness & cold logic. Hal is a rebel who distrusts authority and Bruce is an uncommunicative control freak. They are mutually responsible and valid for their dynamic.

Hal is not just some loudmouth flyboy. He’s ADHD as fuck and does dumb shit sometimes, but he’s actually matured a lot since the Silver Age; specifically being betrayed by Sinestro and/or violated by Parallax can be considered The sobering events for his character.

Hal’s not a womanizer. In the past 30 years I can count his love interests on one hand. Oliver once asked him where to find a good time and Hal offered his gd chess board (and then Ollie rightfully ditched him for being a square).

Hal has canonically dated an alien that was like 80% tentacles. He is an open-minded man alright, and he has seen shit in outer space that rivals anything in Gotham.

The other Corpsmen are full-throttle ride or die for Hal for a reason. Kyle, Guy, and John are 3 very different men with different standards and baggage, and they all will (and have!) take on Batman for Hal’s honor.

I also feel compelled to add that Hal has bottom energy in most of his relationships. Dude is legit drawn to people who can and will step on him.

I know it’s not that deep when all these quirky JLA reaction fics and fake quote posts want an outsider character for the Bats to clown on. But I personally need these folks to know that they do not know who or what Green Lantern is.