#pre batman

[comicarc]

𝐈 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 (𝐗𝐈𝐈)

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"A lonely moon craving for the radiant sun." In which a certain girl catches the attention of a prideful billionaire playboy as they both attempt to find their way in the world. (I haven't seen many fics explore Bruce in his formative years, so I thought I'd share my take on them, of course with romance.)

wc: 2572

A decade, an entire decade had passed since he had seen her, and even now as she interviewed him, he could barely look her in the eye. Everyone in the ballroom was none the wiser to the monster that stood before him, but he knew. He knew how she’d burned a man alive, how she’d done unspeakable things to innocent people all for the sake of alleviating a pain he’d never understand. 

He was conflicted, for how could a woman as lovely as her turn into this? Someone worse than the Joker, a walking illusion able to fool everyone around her. y/n would have been his unbecoming had he not left, had he not had the time to repair the hole in his heart that she left. 

Staring at her face, he attempted to delude himself into thinking it was the y/n he knew before he left. The sweet scholarship kid with everything to lose and yet not a single violent bone in her body. Maybe he had the wrong idea of her then, but at least it was a daydream that kept him sane. 

As he was catching up on all that he had missed in his time away, Alfred had off-handedly mentioned the serial killings, the houses set fire for no apparent reason, and the influx of patients in the Asylum. Nothing made sense anymore ever since Falcone was arrested. All these troubled souls wandered Gotham as if they wanted the power to rule it all, knowing they never would. The city had turned darker than ever, and y/n seemed at the center of it, behind the scenes not only reporting it, but incrimated. Though no one ever mentioned her specifically in police reports, it was easy to piece together footage and eye-witness accounts to figure out she had a significant role in it all. 

Bruce had left Gotham with an intention to keep his promise, to make y/n untouchable. But for that he needed to make himself invincible. When he came back to the reality that y/n had gone to the dark side, given into the monster persona that everyone tried to make her, the terms of Bruce’s promise changed. y/n would need to be untouchable, in the sense that her touch couldn’t harm others. If he could save even one person from her wrath, one person from the death that surrounded her, then he would do anything to ensure it. 

And so he became Batman, monitoring y/n in a way he never could as Bruce and ensuring the streets were safer than ever. Within his first year operating as the caped crusader, he’d made enough of mark on Gotham that crime was at an all time low in three decades. 

Now, as she stood in front of him, finishing off her interview, he wished he could question her. Attain some sort of closure, arrest her and be done with the feelings that plagued him. Alas, he could only resort to a passive-aggressive nature, and brush her off as politely as a playboy was permitted to be. y/n seemed to have a similar distaste for his company, for as soon as they had finished, she headed out of the ballroom immediately. 

As he watched her strutting away, Bruce observed strange men entering the room and instantly his mind kicked into detective mode. He knew something was about to happen, and without a second thought, he rushed to disappear into the depths of his mansion to re-emerge as Batman and deal with the situation properly. 

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

With the Joker dealt with, and his cronies tied up awaiting arrest, Bruce’s mind wandered to his son. Usually, Dick was too eager to miss out on opportunities such as this, where he could dawn the colorful Robin costume and aid him in the fight. Had Joker done something to him? Panic began to creep into Bruce’s head at all the possibilities, and thus he rushed to change back into his suit and tie to search the ballroom properly. 

Bruce spent thirty minutes turning the place upside down, and yet to no avail did he find Dick. It wasn’t until he went outside that he saw the little boy perched atop one of the steps leading into the ballroom. He ignored whoever was beside him, to rush over to the boy and berate him about running off in a crisis event. 

y/n watched Bruce’s fatherly affection, thinking it to be fitting for the man to hold a devotion he never received. It was the wide, genuine smile on Dick’s face that made y/n’s mouth curve into a similar position, bringing her a joy she had never understood. 

Looking up from the boy that he clung to, Bruce was about to thank the woman that still held Dick’s hand, but upon gazing at her face, he went silent. y/n was the first to break the tension as she spoke, “Quite the brave boy you have here. Don’t worry, he’s safe and sound.” y/n paused, waiting for Bruce to say something. After a moment of lingering, she turned to leave, satisfied by the fact that she was able to keep Dick safe throughout the ordeal. 

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“What were you thinking, being alone with that woman?” Bruce scolded Dick, fuming with a rage the boy had never seen. He’s stolen cars, crashed them, ran away from the Manor countless time, and yet this was what set him off?

“I’m fine Bruce, she protected me the whole time.” Dick explained, hoping to ease Bruce’s demeanor.

The words seem to enrage him even more, as he commanded, “Dick, she wasn’t protecting you. I don’t want you near her ever without me nearby. Do you understand?”

“Why do you detest her?” Dick questioned, weary of being oblivious.

Bruce, unrelenting, threatened, “Go to your room, or else you won’t come to patrol with me for a month.”

“But–” 

“Two months.”

Defeated, Dick went to his room, hoping to elicit answers from y/n the next time he saw her. 

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Bruce made his way down to the Batcave, where he could sort his thoughts for the remainder of the night. Entering the cave, he was greeted by the dark ambiance of a nearly empty room. The computer in the middle lit up as he made his presence known, and the seat in front of it was conveniently swiveled to face him.

Sitting down, he allowed the cushioning of the chair to absorb the fatigue in his muscles. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and reimagined her face. She had grown into it over the years and looked positively remarkable. Truly she was a nightmare dressed as a daydream, and if he had been none the wiser, he’d have fallen for her again. 

He’d always thought fear to be the driving force of any decision. People make choices because they fear regret, fear missing out, fear danger, fear isolation, people are driven by what terrifies them. And so, he thought he had conquered that fear, for he was so effectively able to manipulate it for his use. He could use it against others, and command it at will. 

But Bruce Wayne is a human, and to command something, you must know it. And so fear still haunts him, the fear of losing those he loved. He’d lost his parents and y/n to things he couldn’t control. But Dick was someone he could give the world to, someone he could ensure would never end up like him.

Bruce caged his affection to the confines of the manor, he sacrificed everything that made him human so that he could be an immortal symbol, his blood intertwined with that of Gotham until they were one. He was unrecognizable as he surrendered himself to the same mission that his parents had begun. Dick would never be haunted by his own y/n, he would be better, sheltered, loved, and perceived in a way that Bruce never had. 

Robin was a step toward that, a manner of coping much more effective and safer than anything Bruce had done. But he feared that all his work would come crumbling if Dick’s curiosity led him to become too close to y/n. He feared Dick’s heart would be just as broken as his own, tortured by the same woman who tormented him.

And clarity struck at the thought of Dick and y/n. She did in fact ensure the boy’s safety throughout the commotion. Bruce even noticed the ripped fabric of the pity dress he’d sent her, wrapped around Dick like a makeshift air filter. It was most definitely a facade she had put on for the boy, but he was glad she wasn’t actively hurting him. At least she’d given Bruce that much mercy.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Dick made his way up to his room as Bruce instructed, but before he entered his sanctuary, the boy moved to the attic hoping to find some clue so that he could piece together the man’s past. Walking up the steps to the topmost floor, Dick still couldn’t get the taste of the word father out of his mouth. Bruce wasn’t his father, no one could be except for the man lying six feet under the ground.

Being adopted by one of the most notable figures in the world, Dick was rarely given any time to acclimate to his new life. Sure Bruce was kind, but he wasn’t his father, not yet. He was more like a teacher with their Batman and Robin dynamic. Outside of that, he’d barely gotten to know the guy.

It was mainly his fault, for his deceased parents left a hole in his heart he refused to repair. And Bruce felt like the perfect victim for Dick to let out his frustrations. He didn’t want Bruce, he wanted his parents, and that thought built a clear divide between the two that wasn’t going to disappear anytime soon.

y/n, though, she was different. She reminded him so much of his own mother the way she would always listen to him. She’d heal him, comfort him, and protect him despite what Bruce–Batman–made her out to be. It could have also been that Dick craved a motherly affection more than a fatherly one, for he wanted love for his grieving heart. He found comfort in having what he wanted, not what he needed.

Maybe y/n’s presence was an illusion, perhaps even an addiction. Maybe her personality was just intoxicatingly loving, enough to reel him in and get into his head. He didn’t quite know why he rejected Bruce and accepted this stranger, but there was a part of him that thought it was because she’d understand his pain even better than Bruce would. 

To be reduced to nothing and plunged into a world he’d never wanted to be a part of, maybe that resemblance was what made him crave her affection. For she knew how to heal him in a way Bruce could never. 

Even more than that, it could have simply been a product of his rebellious tendency. He didn’t want Bruce and he’d made that evidently clear with his antics, this relationship he had with y/n was just a byproduct of that insurgency. But as much as he tried to rationalize his action, he knew he’d never know why things were the way they were.

Instead, he looked for answers in the past, to move his mind from grief to curiosity. If he understood why they hated each other, then maybe he could learn to truly love them. Maybe they could be his second parents. Maybe he could make his fantasy a reality, and allow his heart to finally accept and move past his orphanhood.

His thoughts came to a halt as he encountered a loose envelope lying at his feet. It was addressed to an apartment in Crime Alley, long torn down. It was the same apartment that y/n had mentioned to be her home at one point. Thinking he hit the jackpot, the boy tore open the sealed envelope and found a letter.

Dear y/n, I can’t make anyone understand what I feel, not even myself. After my parents died, I craved affection; I wanted a mother’s love and a father’s devotion, but the mere thought of being given any such love turned my stomach. I pushed Alfred away for the longest time, not because I didn’t want his love, but because I didn’t know how to take it. And even now I have no idea how to give it.  I tried to stop feeling, to make myself so disjointed from the world that I became inhuman. I hoped that one day I’d be able to escape from this wretched reality, that the loneliness would consume me.  And then there was you, with nothing but a dream, who was able to survive the desolate landscape of no-man’s-land. You looked into my soul and declared me an average person the day I met you. Your very look healed a part of me I thought I had lost. But every time I hoped that you’d make me whole again, I’d be reminded of my effect on others. The pain, the hurt, and the destruction I brought about might as well have made me the fifth horseman of the apocalypse. So much money, so much influence and yet I had no power over what my actions entailed. I was trapped on a path to hell, paved by good intentions.  I pushed Harvey away, my best friend, for misguided revenge. I pushed Alfred away because I couldn’t handle love. I pushed my self to the back of my mind, letting a darkness consume me. Inside me something seethes, some feral monster claws at my ribcage, biding its time until its finally released. And I may never be worthy of the love and support I have been given, but what I can do is spare those that have given it to me. My anger runs deep, that much is clear, so I must learn to live with it. I have to leave to become something that can contain the monster. I’ve heard of a place that might help me, and so I’m headed to Nanda Parbat, where I hope I can save at least one soul. Whether that be mine or anyone else’s, at least I’ll have made my parent’s success worthwhile and have them be proud of the man I am to be. Love, Bruce

The letter was never sent, meaning Bruce’s words were a truth he was unwilling or unable to share. The letter must have been written before his departure. It was clearly an explanation, a justification. Maybe y/n hated Bruce because he left without telling her, maybe it was the suddenness of it all that enraged her. 

But that seemed too shallow of a reason, there had to be more. Maybe Bruce wasn’t able to convey his love for her properly, maybe it came out harsher than intended. He did have a tendency to be cold and distant, maybe that had made him off-putting.

But there were too many ‘maybe’s in his mind for him to formulate a reason that would explain it all. So Dick opted to sleep on the information revealed, hoping that by tomorrow night, he’d be able to extract a more sound story to work with from y/n.

˖ ࣪🦇𓆰♡𓆪🦇ִ ࣪���

taglist:@earth-to-name

[minnesota-fats]

Snow Bat

Ch 1

Danny, a homeless kid living on the street. Bruce, a rich kid obsessed with trying to find his parents' murderers. They both meet one rainy night at age eighteen, and from that night forward their fates are intertwined forever more.

All is as it should be.

Danny remembers the night like it had just happened—but I guess you will witness it first hand. He had situated himself on a street corner, not busy enough to have a constant set of eyes on him—but then again no one really batted an eye at a homeless kid here in Gotham. Though, Danny did not consider himself a kid anymore. Not after all he had been through, though that doesn’t matter right now. Danny was sitting on the concrete walkway, not really paying attention, just sitting in thought on what he should do next. He had gotten this far, but he still needed to figure out what to do next. He had come into town with a bag of clothes and a wallet full of money. Thought that didn't last long when in a shitty part of town, known for muggers and killers.

Danny didn't really put up much of a fight either, he was too tired to really do anything and most importantly he didn't want to use the abilities that he has. Sure, it would have made getting away easier but when did Danny ever do things the easy way? So, in the end he was down one bag of clothes and any identification and money. Though while on the run, you don't really want people to know who you are. The only purpose his ID had was just to serve as a reminder of who he was, now with it gone, Danny can really start anew. He just had to figure out what he was going to do.

Danny didn't really register the rain until he felt it stop pelting his head aggressively. He looked up and was confused to see an expensive looking umbrella positioned over his head. Danny followed the hand holding the umbrella to see a young man who was surrounded by a halo of the street lamp shining directly behind him.danny tilted his head to the side to examine the man, he had stormy gray blue eyes and slicked back black hair that started to lose shape as the rain began to wet it and his suit jacket. Danny could feel his heart skip a beat, something very noticeable when your heartbeat is as slow as his. The man looked down at him and tilted his head to mimic Danny's own head tilt.

The young man’s name is Bruce Wayne, heir to the Wayne family fortune. He had been walking around to clear his head after he had a fierce argument with his father figure Alfred. Bruce had stormed out of the vehicle and began walking away in a random direction. Bruce knew that Alfred wouldn't be too far behind, knowing how protective he was of Bruce. During his walk however Bruce had spotted what looked like a kid no older than eighteen, sure he was the same age, but Bruce hadn’t considered himself a kid for a long time despite what others around him might say. He tightened his grip on the umbrella and without much thought he walked closer to the young man. As Bruce got closer he could see the man had a busted lip and swollen downcast eyes. There were smudges of blood on his dirty hoodie and a steady stream of pink bloody water dripping from his hair. It is clear to Bruce that this young man had just been on the losing side of a fight or at least a beating.

It reminded Bruce of how he used to get into fights in primary school after- Bruce didn't want to think about that right now. Bruce walked toward the man and used his umbrella to shield the man from the rain. When the young man looked up, Bruce couldn't help but admire how bright this man's eyes were—at least the one that wasn’t swollen shut. The young man in front of Bruce had unbelievably blue eyes that almost looked purple as the light shifted when the young man tilted his head to the side in confusion, Bruce mimicked the movement.

Bruce knelt down to be at eye level with the other man, “what happened?” He asked, voice smooth and unassuming.

“Got my shit stolen,” Danny says with a shrug, his voice sounding hoarse from the disused. Danny coughed and cleared his throat, “what does it look like?”

Bruce looked him over, “you seem to have suffered several contusions that range from a not so serious looking busted lip to a concerning head wound that may or may not need stitches.”

Danny tilted his head the opposite direction, “oh,” was all he could think of saying, dumbfounded by the sudden medical analysis.

“If you would like I can take you to the hospital,” Bruce offered, “my car is just around the corner.”

Danny’s eyes widened, “no! No hospital,” he exclaimed. His back straightened up as he tried to lean forward, but the sudden movement made him feel dizzy. “I, umm…. Can't afford it….” He tries, sounding unsure.

Bruce looked harder at the young man in front of him, “money isn't an issue,” Bruce starts. But the tension in the man's form made him reconsider his approach, “But if you want I can treat you at my home,” He offered.

Danny calmed down at what the man said, “No, it's ok. I'll be fine,” he starts as he leans back down against the wall, not taking his eyes away from the man in front of him. “I don't want to impose.”

“Then do you have somewhere I can take you? I’m not leaving you here alone.” Bruce says, stubbornly.

“Really buddy, I’m good, I don’t need-” he tries but Bruce cuts him off.

“I promise you, I won't hurt you,” Bruce tried again, “If you want you can even stay the night, have a warm meal and shower. I just want to help you.”

Danny looked at this man again, really looked at him. Danny could feel that this guy really meant it, he wanted to help danny—no strings attached. Danny let out a groan before leaning forward and shaking his head in annoyance. Danny looked back up into the man's eyes, “fine,” Danny grumbles out, “only for a hot shower. But if you're a serial killer I'm gonna be real pissed off.”

The man smiled and reached out his hand for Danny to take, “don’t worry, my name is Bruce. What’s yours?”

Danny accepted Bruce's hand and groaned as he helped hoist him up, “name’s Danny,” he responds, “I think I might have a broken rib or two,” he admits, swaying a bit as he clutched his side.

“To be expected when mugged in Gotham,” Bruce said darkly. The comment made Danny snort a bit in laughter. Bruce smiled a bit as he pulled Danny closer to him so they could both share the umbrella, Bruce could see the man tensed up a bit before resting into Bruce’s side. It was like that Bruce led the injured man to the edge of the sidewalk just as a sleek black car drove up and parked in front of them. Danny seemed to tense up again at the sight of the car, looking like he was ready to bolt. Bruce made sure to keep his posture passive, hopefully to convey that they were not in any danger.

The front window rolled down to reveal the familiar face of Alfred, “I see you have made a friend, Master Bruce.” He commented as he moved to get out of the car.

“No need to get out Alfred, I got the door.” Bruce says softly and he pulls Danny along and opens the back door. He holds the umbrella up above the door to allow Danny to get in first. As Bruce guides him down to sit Danny groans again as settled in. Bruce smiled at Danny reassuringly before he closed the car door and ran to the other side to get in. Once in the car Bruce looked forward at Alfred who looked through the rear view mirror at his ward, “to home please, Alfred, I promise my friend here a warm meal and shower,” Bruce explained before looking back at Danny, “after I check his wounds,” he says directing that part to danny who just groaned in annoyance before looking out the window.

Alfred smiled softly at the display of fragile trust, proud of his ward’s stubbornness when it comes to others safety.

Hopefully, this will be good for both young men, the old butler thought as he took note of the state the new man was in.

If only he knew how significant this meeting actually was.

Only time will tell.

—

Remaining chapters on ao3:

Link

[minnesota-fats]

I had this idea for a while but im using this post as an excuse to just share it!

Liminal! Bruce Wayne

P.s. the living shadows come from a dream I had

—

Underneath the earth in a cave that had been undisturbed for centuries sat a pool of inky black substance that rithe with no real aim or care. This substance is a mass of Living Shadow, named for the way it moves with nothing to cast its shadow. But it is not at all a living thing; it is a gaseous creature that is incapable of self thought and perception. A Living Shadow is a byproduct of a shadow ghost fading from existence, leaving behind the physical realm when it meets its end.

This cavity in the earth has sat in the dark with no light to feed off of for eons. But a shift in the tectonic plates causes a crack to form in the walls, allowing the shadow to slip out into a larger cave.

Bruce walked along the field behind the manor, preoccupied by thoughts of school, homework and the upcoming gala that his parents were hosting in a day or two. Bruce was 7 years old and had just been released from his grueling piano lessons. Bruce hated his tutor, she was old and always pinched his cheeks too hard. Bruce hummed the tune of the song he had just been practicing when he took a step forward into the tall grass only for him to fall forward into a hole that had been hiding there. The boy gasped as he tried to catch himself only for the dirt to cave out from under him, swallowing him whole. Bruce lost sight of his surroundings as he began to plummet into the caves he didn't know were underneath the manor. He tried to scream out only for the wind to take his breath out of him as he fell faster and faster.

Bruce hit the ground hard and dust scattered around him; Bruce rasped out with jagged breaths as he felt something warm and wet trickle down his face. The fall left Bruce staring up at the hole he had fallen from; the only sound he could hear was the screeching of bats that were disturbed from his fall. Bruce's vision blurred and the last thing he could remember as he faded from consciousness was how the sound the bats made filled him with fear.

When all grew silent again from the darkest corner of the cave the very shadow that had escaped the confines of its void felt Bruce’s fear and was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. It floated forward slowly like a thick fog and it caressed Bruce's skin, it crawled up and hovered by the heavy scraped and open gashes the boy sustained after his fall. It was calm as it began to wriggle its way into the boy's very blood. As it went, the living shadow began to heal its new host and ate the boy's fear and pain as it went. The shadow clung to him like a leech and infused his very essence with it’s. The final wisps of the shadow made its way into Bruce and closed his wounds behind it, leaving Bruce bathed in the rays of light from the entrance.

Bruce’s eyes flung open, eyes fully black as he violently gasps for breath. Bruce blinks a few times, tears escaping as he does so.

Bruce looks up and around himself, fear still there but not as strong as it was when he fell.

Bruce began calling for help causing the bats to fly once again.

DPXDC trope writing challenge!

Choose a number of these common DPXDC tropes and write a blurb or fic without using these tropes! Easy Mode: chose 3 tropes from the list. Medium: Choose 5-7 tropes from the list. Hard: Choose 8-10 tropes from the list Batshit Crazy: 15+ tropes from the list.

Twin/Sibling AU

Lazarus water is Ectoplasm

Jason Is Liminal/Revenant/Halfa AU

Ghost King Danny AU

Adoption AU

Runaway AU

Ships

Danny Mistaken for [X] AU

Eldritch Danny AU

Slow Heartbeat/Inhuman looking Danny

Batfamily

Danny Lives in Gotham

Summoning AU

Evil Fentons AU

Alternate Dimension of [X] Character AU

GIW as Main Plot/Antagonists

Ghost Convention

Evil Superman

Magic Users Involvement

Kryptonite is Ectoplasm

Danny Owns Constantine's Soul

Jazz works at Arkham

Danny is a Clone (Superman/Batman/a Batboy, etc.)

Gotham is an Old Ghost

Happy writing y'all!! Sometimes putting yourself in a box makes you even more creative. Hope ya enjoy this writing challenge :D

[robingivesmemagic]

[ pls dont tag as ship ]

[supine-ly]

they’re looking for tim

[citizenmoe]

*preparing for a wayne gala*

jason: how can you ever tell the difference between all the fancy forks?

tim: it’s really not that hard, the salad fork is smaller than the dinner fork, the cake fork has three prongs, oh there’s also the lobster fork and fish fork and…

jason: of course you know all this rich boy being raised with a silver spoon and all that elitist bs

tim: you know my parents forced me to go to etiquette school…

jason: and im supposed to feel bad for you?

tim: i still have my flashcards

jason: oh that would be great actually can i have those

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Every single member of the Batfamily lies about their taste in music

Damian will claim that he only listens to classical music and that everything else is beneath him.

Damian will unironically listen to trashy Arab pop and the absolute worst Bollywood songs known to man (Dick introduced him to them and he hates the fact that sometimes he gets Sheila Ki Jawani stuck in his head during missions)

Tim will put on the most ear grating hyper pop you've ever heard and claim with full chest that these is the peak of humanities capabilities with music (Damian, Jason and Steph have all tried to kill him for this take) He will also play stuff like the living tombstones and sing it obnoxiously loud when he's working on the computer.

Tim however loves his 90s grunge and it's all that's playing in his headphones. (think nirvana, pearl Jam, Melvins, Alice in Chains etc) He has tracked down so many shirts and concert posters and watched every bit of content from the older shows.

Jason will claim he only listens to east coast rap, biggie, Nas, Jay etc and maybe some older metal. He will fight you on east vs west coast music, there will be weaponry involved.

Jason likes rap music... he unfortunately prefers west coast rap and has listened to no vaseline like 500 times. He will deny this till the day he dies...again. (Dick knows and threatens to tell Steph)

Steph will steal the aux and play Taylor Swifts greatest hits until one of the Boys threatens mutiny. Every single one of the bats has had style stuck in their heads during a stakeout at least twice. She will claim that the only rap song she can tolerate in Eminem and the 7/11 is Beyoncés best song.

Steph is an underground fan, think the dude selling mixtapes on the subway type shit. She also unlike Jason genuinely loves East Coast Rap music more than anything and knows every single wu-tang clan song by heart, same with Biggie. Not only does she love the music she also spends any free time binging those "history of rap and its consequences" videos and has been a firm believer that P.Diddy had a hand in a lot of the Death row records well...deaths.

Cass, well everyone thinks Cass has really good taste bc its Cass and she has zero flaws (don't @ me) she never takes the aux and will usually listen to her music while she's chilling or doing stretches. None of them have heard or seen a single one of her playlists except Duke.

its all 2010s top 40s pop music and like the trashy kind too, Beauty and the Beat, Kesha, Katy Perry. It's her turning of her brain time and she will be straight vibing to Rude! by magic or Boom Clap or Shower. she has shown this to Duke, smirked and told him that even if he tried to tell anyone they wouldn't believe him.

Duke is the only one who doesn't... lie. He just hides a few things. Lies of omission don't count as lies when the bats will lie to you about what they had for breakfast, while they are visibly eating breakfast. Duke says he listens to everything and he does. Literally everything. His patrol Jam is offensive bc it with start with Norwegian death metal and immediately switches to "like a G6" followed by kendrick Lamar and then descendants Disney channel movie music.

Bruce... Bruce is just weird, everyone asks him and gets a different answer. Bc he doesn't... like music. Like at all. It's all noise, his mother played instruments so he learned like 14 and he hates how they all sound. He just like vague batwings fluttering in dead silence.

Dick Grayson will obnoxiously play top 40 and radio music religiously around the bats. He claims it's the best music for rhythmic acrobatics and trapeze work and that true! Jason hates this kind of music the most, it's formulaic and holds no substance and drives him insane.

But Dick only listens to that music when he's moving, flipping doing high energy stuff. When he just wants to chill? This man has the most depressing music taste you've ever seen. You know that sad song from ur favorite artist that you can't listen to without crying. Yeah that's his bread and butter. Every single song is just flat out tear inducing, some of these bands have like 100 listeners and he is one of them and it's just their saddest song that reads like suicide note. The titans have conducted an intervention bc its just... concerning. He just thinks it's neat!

[oifaaa]

People will try to convince you Jason Todd is the impulsive doesn't think before he acts type of guy and its funny bc Jason is almost comedic in how fucking long it actually takes this boy to plan out anything

[we-ezer]

Joker stabbed Harley in the stomach when she told him she is pregnant. In pain and bleeding out, she turns up at Ivy's safehouse. Ivy gives her a glowing green vial she received from Ra's al Ghul in exchange for the carnivorous plants she gave him for disposing of bodies. Harley drinks the water and the wound closes, but she stays with Ivy over the course of her pregnancy to make sure Joker won't try to cut out the fetus again. When she finally gives birth it's in the safehouse with her, Ivy, and Dr. Thompkins who promised she wouldn't say a thing to anyone. Baby Danny is born with his eyes open and glowing green, but they soon fade to Harley's blue. Harley and Ivy had already discussed what to do with the baby and decided Gotham was too dangerous for him, so Ivy makes the journey to Amity Park to drop him off with her old friend, Maddie Fenton, who agreed to take him because her and Jack were having trouble conceiving.

When Harley eventually returns to the Joker, she tells him she drowned the baby in Gotham Bay.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Confident!Danny

Okay, sure, I'm always down for a teenager Danny who is on the run/adopted by Batfam/needs therapy and cuddles. The young and tired Danny who just wants comfort so hard. Beautiful.

But.

What about a slightly morally gray adult Danny? The one who is not afraid of turning into Dan anymore, because 1) Clockwork already erased that future, and 2) he knows himself, and he knows what he wants and what he is capable of. It's not like there are only two ways - world destruction and the perfect hero.

Danny, who embraces being the King of Infinite Realms. Danny, who actually doesn't mind doing whatever the fuck he wants, going by his own moral compass. Danny, who knows he is powerful and doesn't bother trying to hide it. Danny with an attitude "I am what I am, don't like me - get lost".

He is still kind, sure, but he is not a people-pleaser. He can be a King, a hero, an anti-hero, a mercenary, a civilian, and even a vilain occasionally if he wants to. All at once.

Anyway, this has been sitting in my drafts for so long that I wrote a fic out of it.

[birdean]

What a wild little guy, I hope he doesn’t end up in a horrible life-or death poll

[comicarc]

𝐈 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 (𝐈𝐗)

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"A lonely moon craving for the radiant sun." In which a certain girl catches the attention of a prideful billionaire playboy as they both attempt to find their way in the world. (I haven't seen many fics explore Bruce in his formative years, so I thought I'd share my take on them, of course with romance.)

wc: 2201

A/N: "The future influences the present just as much as the past." -Friedrich Nietzsche

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“That’s it! That’s where you’re gonna stop?” The little boy groaned, resting his head on y/n’s lap as she bandaged his hand. 

“Why of course, you’ll hear the rest when you’re ready. For now, mull over my words for there is always something to learn from history.” She smiled looking into the eyes of the little boy with a motherly affection. 

“What’s there to learn? Bruce Wayne’s selfish, Harvey Dent is ignorant and you–you’re just plain depressed.” The boy rolled his eyes, annoyed that he’d wasted half his night listening to a story without a climax. 

y/n’s smile widened as she chuckled. “I thought you were smart, little robin. No one ever tells you that bravery feels like fear. And it’s easy to be brave when you’d rather die than give up.” She combed a hand through his hair, humming some lullaby. 

As she tied the end of the bandage, securing it, the little boy sat up and leaned against her shoulder as he clarified, “So you’re saying I should fight till my last breath to get what I want? To be stubborn.”

“As hell. Or else the world will devour you, and you’ll be left dreaming.” She finished. 

The boy turned his head to face her, expecting the same gesture she gave him every night. Placing a kiss atop his forehead, y/n rose from her couch to prod at the flame burning in the fireplace with a poker. The boy watched her, unwilling to move from his seat. 

He loved y/n’s humble abode, for it overlooked Gotham in such a way that the city looked like a dream. From the window, he could see a sea of lights below and skyscrapers decorating the skyline in the distance. It was a picturesque view.

Not to mention her apartment was the perfect size, not too small that it felt claustrophobic but not too large that it felt artificial. There was a coziness to it that he never felt in his “real” home. The kind he craved to bathe in till the end of time. 

“Can I stay tonight?” He asked for the umpteenth time in the past week. He knew what she would say, that she truly wished she could but she couldn’t deprive his father of such a wonderful presence.

“Y’know what, why not? It’s the holidays, and I’m sure Batman wouldn’t mind you having a little time to yourself.”

“Really? Yes!” The boy exclaimed. Immediately he was on his feet, running to the kitchen for a midnight snack. As soon as he had his food in a bowl the boy ran back and turned on the TV above the fireplace, setting it the movie Home Alone. He cozied himself into the couch, cuddling into a blanket he found nearby, and patted at the empty space beside him, indicating for y/n to join him. 

She told him she needed a moment outside before joining him for the night. Setting the poker down in its mantle, y/n walked out to the patio, sliding the door behind her to ensure that the little boy would be none the wiser to what was happening outside. 

She took slow steps to the edge, leaning over the railing with her hands folded atop it. “I let him stay tonight. I hope you don’t mind,” she spoke, her words fading into the crisp air. The moon shone down as if illuminating just her. The rest of her patio was shrouded in a darkness so deep, that even a bat couldn’t see through it. 

That’s where he remained hiding as he answered, “Robin needs the break. Make sure he comes back in the morning.” He hesitated before he took a step into the light. Though he still remained out of her sight, she could feel the warmth exuding from his armored body. Standing on her feet again, she moved a step away from the rail until her back was only inches from his body.

“Batman, what a peculiar name. However, did you come up with it?” She began, hoping she’d elicit a reaction. There was a familiarity to his voice that she couldn’t quite place due to the modifier. 

Met with silence, she attempted conversation again. ���It’s a beautiful, silent night. I remember a time when Gotham’s symphony was especially deafening during this hour. Why remain in the dark when you can bask in the light of the city’s new hope?”

“Darkness shields just as much as it threatens.” He confessed, his voice wavering ever so slightly.

“And light guides us home, to happiness.” She responded. She wished she could whip herself around, to face the dark knight in all his glory, but she knew he’d have left by now. He was never one to stay too long, but at least his fleeting presence made his company all the more precious.

Alone on the patio, y/n headed inside, back to the Bat’s protege: Robin. Inside, the eager little boy ignored the movie, and began to question y/n’s story yet again. “Please, please, please tell me more. What happened with the case, what happened after they found out where you lived?”

“Well, Falcone’s still serving time in jail, so to say we succeeded would be an understatement. Talking about the trial would be a bore, especially since most of it is public record. As for the boys, well nothing really changed. Harvey hung out more and more with Gilda until they fell in love when they went to Harvard. Bruce went to Yale and essentially dropped off the face of the Earth until he returned to Gotham last year.”

“Ok, if you don’t want to talk about them then I get it. But what about Dr. Crane, what happened with him?” Robin persisted. 

“That’s for another night, alright? Patience is a virtue you really should practice.” She chuckled, moving one of the couch pillows under his head as he slouched into a sleeping position. She patted his side until the boy forgot all about the movie and fell into a restful sleep beside her.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A year prior, Bruce Wayne had come back to Gotham. Really, it was more like he had snuck in. For months he remained a recluse, until one day he threw the biggest gala Gotham had ever seen at his mansion. He called it his homecoming ball, but y/n believed it was merely a distraction. The Bruce she knew always used such extravagance as a facade, but there was always the fact that he’d been gone from Gotham for nine years. He’d most likely have changed in that time as any man would. 

By then, at the ripe age of 27, y/n herself had earned her spot in the Gotham Gazette. Having earned a few awards for her writing debut about her involvement in the unraveling of Falcone’s drug operation all those years ago, y/n was able to go to Gotham University and eventually Columbia to earn her degrees in journalism. From there, she was hand-picked by the Gazette to work for them as a full-time writer.

Batman had come into the picture just a month after Bruce’s return, but his presence was so rare that at first, he seemed a myth. Even now, a year later some people still doubt his existence. The only real proof people have is Robin, who showed up in his colorful spandex three months ago. y/n found the little bird in a back alley near her home on his first day, and ever since she’s been helping stitch him up or give him company on the nights he patrols as a sidekick to Batman.

Sending off Robin in the morning, y/n had the remainder of the day to prepare herself to attend another Wayne gala for Christmas. It was a dreaded assignment, for she had wanted to keep herself at a distance from any Wayne, but things don’t always work out the way we want them to.

Before heading to the mall to buy a nice gown for the black tie event, y/n headed to Gotham Academy. She was to meet an old friend at the now-abandoned stands that faced the racetrack. The place where it all began. 

Seated on the stands, she shielded herself from the winter wind with the large men’s coat she wore. Its color had faded with time, but the warmth it trapped was still able to keep her comfortable. It was large on her, but that made it all the more comforting for it engulfed her in a tender embrace. 

A tall, lean figure approached her, with his hood up and a mask to conceal his face. He was muscular, an attribute evident by the way the jacket comfortably hugged his figure. There was a noticeable bulge at his side in the shape of a sidearm, but it was tucked away snugly enough to reassure y/n that it wouldn’t be needed. 

The man took slow steps toward her as he took in y/n’s still form in all its glory under the morning sun. She looked absolutely angelic, with golden rays illuminating her glorious face. The man was utterly entranced by how beautiful she looked, despite the apparent lack of effort she had put into her appearance. 

“Harvey, dashing as always.” She broke the silence with her honey-laced voice.

He smiled as he took off his mask. Sitting beside her he replied, “y/n, lovely as ever. Merry Christmas.”

“I have the file you want, but I can’t imagine why you couldn’t get it yourself.”

“I may be a man scorned, but Two-Face still has his limits.” That may have been true for many things, but this circumstance was different. He wanted an excuse to see her again.

After the accident, Gilda had left him, his public image was ruined, and his mind was in shambles. Yet, y/n remained at his side, as his sole supporter. Even when he changed, when his pain led him down the dark path of criminality, y/n continued to stay in contact with him. He knew she hoped she could change him for the better, but they both knew it was a misplaced expectancy. 

She deserved the world for the kind of woman she was, and that was the very reason Harvey refused to make his advance. He couldn’t give her the heaven she deserved. He feared no man could. But Gotham had recently been put under new authority with all the Arkham inmates running around like they owned the place. And with vigilantism becoming a new trend, who knew what divinity may enter the equation to whisk her away for good? 

Handing Harvey the file, y/n stood. Quirking an eyebrow at her sudden departure he remarked, “Is that my coat?”

With her back to him, she answered, “Merry Christmas, Apollo.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

At last, she returned to her humble abode. At the entrance, there lay a large cardboard box marked with her address. At first glance, there was no sender, no note, nothing that eased y/n’s suspicions. y/n was hesitant to pick it up and bring it inside with nothing to reassure her that it was safe to open.

But a nagging instinct allowed her to let go of her precaution and do just that. Once inside, she set it down on the nearest counter, grabbed an exacto knife, and carefully sliced through the edges of the packaging. The box opened to reveal a note engraved in gold letters, reading, “Make a proper debut in high society with a bang. Sincerely, An Old Friend” 

As she read the sign-off signature, a few people came to mind. Harvey was the first suspect, having been graced by his longing niceties in the hours prior. But he wouldn’t have made such a blatant gesture for no reason; at the very least, he would have made it abundantly clear he was the sender. 

Selina could have simply bought a beautiful piece and sent it to her when they went out together. But there was no such occasion they had planned soon, and as far as y/n knew, Selina didn't know she was attending this gala. 

Another name came to mind, and this one was much more plausible. A girl she once knew, with a habit of making grand entrances had a knack for extravagance that could rival Selina’s. Something was definitely going to happen tonight, and she’d be the first reporter on the scene to break the story. How thoughtful.

Wearing the item inside the box, the flowing, midnight-blue silk dress, shimmered subtly under the soft lighting of her apartment. It hugged her curves with a delicate grace, its plunging neckline framed by delicate trim that cascaded down the bodice, ending in a graceful train that pooled around her ankles, leaving a trail of elegance with each step. The dress made her feel as though she’d finally fit in, no longer a weed in a field of roses. Taking her press pass and invitation in her clutch and wearing her simple silver heels, y/n was out her door again hailing for a cab on the street to make her way to the Manor. 

˖ ࣪🦇𓆰♡𓆪🦇ִ ࣪⋆

taglist: @earth-to-name

[everwalldigan]

The friendliest of reminders that Bruce cried in his room for an hour when Jason was taken away by cps

“Alfred has never known the man to act so helpless… so defeated” if anyone needs me I’ll be crying in the corner

[badghostwriter]

Dick stared at the ceiling fan. It spun, slowly but surely turning, ever ignorant of the world around it. It spun, regardless of the ribbon tied on the third blade, regardless of the breeze blowing in the window, regardless of the winter chill almost making his breath visible. The ceiling fan spun and the world spun and Dick couldn’t comprehend it.

The front door opened. Footsteps pattered into the hallway, past the kitchen and into the living room where he was laying on the floor and staring at the ceiling fan. The footsteps stopped for just a minute, before walking over to the window and sliding it shut. The lock clicked into place and a hand reached up to turn off the fan. Dick waited until it ceased any and all motion before tearing his eyes away from it.

“Have you eaten?” Tim asked.

Dick pried his mouth open, ignoring the awful taste that spoke of dehydration, “I…”

Tim waited a minute before accepting that was all he would get in response. He nodded, turned around and walked out of view. Dick watched him go with a pit in his stomach. A fourteen year old shouldn’t have to do the things him and Bruce made Tim do. Tim was too good. Too young. Too innocent. Except he wasn’t innocent because Bruce was breaking him and Dick was letting him and they were poisonous vines, weaving their way into Tim’s life, sucking the life out of him. Just like they did with Barbara. Just like they did with Jason. God, Jason. His baby brother, who was scared and suffering and died, all without Dick knowing.

“Dick,” Tim nudged him with a foot. Dick blinked, registering the water bottle and microwaved food in Tim’s hands. When had he had time to do that? Dick blinked again and he was sitting on the couch, food on his lap and opened water bottle in his hand.

Tim handed him the lid and a fork. “Drink and eat.”

Dick mechanically took a bite. Then another. Then a sip of water. He turned to look at Tim. His eyes were clouded and bruised, with his lip sporting a bloody cut that made Dick want to cry.

“Bruce?” Dick asked, voice raspy.

“Locked in the cave.”

Dick hummed, leaning over to bump his shoulder against Tim’s. He pressed his lips into the side of Tim’s head in the mockery of a kiss, trying not to remember doing the same thing to another little brother.

“Thank you. I’m sorry.”

Tim ducked a little to slide into place perfectly cuddled up against Dick’s side. “‘S okay. It’s always hard on the anniversary.”

Dick’s eyes watered. “It’s not okay, baby bird. You shouldn’t be…” looking after two grown men just because they can’t get their crap together.

“I’m sorry,” Dick said again.

Tim pressed closer. “Okay.”

Dick closed his eyes and thought absolutely nothing was okay.

[chaoticace2005]

Vox: Save your little project or fight your greatest enemy. You can’t do both!

Alastor: I’m sorry… what did you just say?

Vox: You can’t do both?

Alastor: No! I mean the other thing.

Vox: Save the hotel or fight your greatest enemy?

Alastor: HA! You think you’re my greatest enemy?

Vox: Yes! You’re obsessed with me!

Alastor: HA! No I’m not.

Vox: Yes you are!

Alastor: No I’m not.

Vox: YES YOU ARE! Who else drives you to one up them the way I do?

Alastor: Lucifer.

Vox: No he doesn’t!

Alastor: Susan.

Vox: WHO?!

Alastor: Look my chum, I’d say I don’t currently have AN enemy. I am harassing a few different people.

Vox: What?!

Alastor: I like to fight around!

Vox: Okay okay, look. Im fine with you fighting other people if you wanna do that. But what we have is special. So when people ask you who’s your number one rival you say?!

Alastor: Susan.

Vox: NO! Are you seriously saying there is nothing- NOTHING special about our relationship?

Alastor, our aroace king: Woah! My dear, I don’t do “ships!”

Vox: What?

Alastor: As in “relationships”, there is no us.

Vox, immediately after Alastor leaves: *sobs and cuts his photo out of a group photo*

[llmsos]

Feeling ass so the only solution is to draw Jason