Bruce Wayne - Blog Posts
As a someone from the Midwest this is true ☝️
I desperately need more fics exploring the fact that Clark was born and raised in the rural midwest, and Bruce was a Jersey rich boy.
Give me Clark taking his shoes off when entering a house, and bringing something to dinner
Give me Bruce being absolutely confused because "what the hell is a potluck"
Give me Clark doing a proper midwest goodbye and Bruce being confused why he hasn't left when he said he was going to go 30 minutes ago and their still talking
(Even better if when Clark first says he's going to go Kon and Jon make no move to leave because they know it's going to be a while)
Bruce Wayne as a dad, but he doesn't try to reprimand his kids, he just acts like everything is his 13th reason:
"Jason, if you throw that guy off the cliff, i am also jumping off after him."
"Dick, if you don't get down from there, I will stand under the chandelier when it falls down."
"Damian, if you cut that head off, i will walk into your sword."
MOON AND STARS
hal jordan x battinson | sfw
Cw! Older Hal, Younger Bruce Wayne, romantic leaning, DC Justice League War references, slight spoilers to The Batman (2022), headcannons, suggestive content
thank you to the person who requested this. the request got lost in the cosmos :( these two are hilarious to me (especially if it's battinson in particular)
It was simple. Catch the alien that was terrorizing Gotham. Capture him and things would be fine.
Of course things could never be simple for Hal Jordan, the Green Lantern.
He meets face-to-face with Batman. He expected some older man who was all dark and brooding, which he was, but this Batman was young.
He was anxious and honestly very emo.
The younger man was irritating and always telling Hal to get out of his city. Hal was appalled because how dare he.
Batman was inexperienced.
But this was the same Batman that restored faith in Hal's self. He and Batman, or rather Bruce Wayne said they were the most normal on this team of other gods.
Hal admired the young man's stance. Despite all his broody emo behavior the bat proved to be a symbol of hope and justice.
Hal continued his teasing and the name Spooky rang heavy on his tongue, and soon it felt much more adoring than demeaning. The Batman; Bruce Wayne was a shy man who kept to himself and was learning to accommodate Hal's eccentricity.
They didn't know when it happened.
Hal found himself enamored with the younger man who was a wet kitten. His hands were suddenly tracing every mortal scar on the young man's skin.
Batman suddenly felt a surge of love he never felt before. All there was was Alfred after the death of his parents, and that pain and need for vengeance.
Then the Riddler, and now this.
Opened to the city and hope, and now this man; Green Lantern, Hal Jordan proved to be someone who wanted him the most annoying person on earth. But even so, Bruce couldn't deny this feeling for the other.
The solemn darkness of Gotham haunted Bruce like a ghost. He was the darkness, for he was vengeance and Green Lantern was the light. He was the green light across the ocean and shined brightly for Bruce to see.
Rocky. It was was. Bruce and Hal proved to be people most unlikely to become an item and they argued. Silence from the bat and irritation on the guardian's end.
Still, they ended up in the bedroom where every scar was counted and every scar was kissed with such care and gentleness. After years of being touch-starved and used to the pain Bruce cried. The last night he did it was alone after Alfred got hurt due to his actions.
Every good thing wasn't desevering of him. He wasn't deserving of it.
The Green Lantern's guilt was astronomical. For he was chosen and that belief wavered. Did he even know what he was doing? Then Hal found himself being approached with comforting words. Hesitant kisses. A pale body of scars and fear against his.
Never again would neither of them feel inferior. They were normal in the most human way.
The Batman was costume, even if Brucie was mask just as Bruce Wayne was too.
Green Lantern was the ring. Without it; Hal Jordan was all that was left.
Darkness and light together. Warping beautifully the two joined in bed. Tanned body above another with the most humorous and comforting words ever. The caressing of skin and those damn butterfly kisses.
So sweet and intoxicatingly addictive. Bruce wouldn't stand it, and he let it happen. Hal wouldn't leave him alone, ever again.
the sillies
That just means he likes you :))
Holy Batman!
Hold on hold on hold on!
I have a genuine question, why and when was Danny Phantom (and Miraculous Ladybug for that matter) a common DC crossover fandom??? I genuinely mean no hate either way but I’m just confused???
Like I’ve been going through my daily ritual of scrolling through any Jason Todd tags and them BAM DANNY PHANTOM AU or BANG LADYBUG IS IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH BATFAMILY MEMBER!
Man….. I’m just confused
Okay no spoilers but i just saw The Batman today and it was AMAZING, I knew this movie would be great and I really hope a sequel is made!
That being said, if they DO make a sequel I really want them to let this early batman have dick graysons robin! He would literally be the perfect version for a live action batman and robin in the newer movies!
TO ANYONE WHO LOVES THE BATFAM!!
LOOK! LOOK AT THIS! PLEASE GO VOTE!! WE NEED THIS! you can vote on DCCOMICS offical instagram, twitter and webpage!
panel redraw of the sillies
Jason Todd Week 2025 !!!
totally forgot to do this yesterday so I'll slap both in here!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/61287277
DAY ONE: time travel / Batmobile Tires
Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Jason Todd
Characters; Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne
Additional Tags: Young Jason Todd, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason Todd is Robin, it'll make sense I promise, Time Travel, Shenanigans, A little bit of, angst, Jason Todd is a Menace, Bruce Wayne is Good With Kids, Jason Todd Steals the Batmobile Tires, but he needs motivation!, Jason Todd Week 2025, Fluff, Crack, idk pal
Description:
A small slip of a thing drifts into the alley, tiny and minuscule from his perch on the roof. The red hoodie dwarfs the kid, making him seem that much smaller and weaker than he is. From the side of his pants, the kid draws out a tire iron and crouches by the edge of the Batmobile, looking around furtively to make sure he’s alone. He even chances a look up but Jason’s been in the game for too long to let some scrawny kid see him. He can feel the anxiety pouring off him in waves, mostly because a phantom of it has spurted in his gut and is clawing through his windpipe upwards. There’s no way. Not tonight, not this day, the fates would be too cruel.
After a moment, the kid starts to steal the tires of the Batmobile.
DAY TWO: chronic pain
Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne
Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Damian Wayne, Tim Drake, Alfred Pennyworth, Background and Cameo Characters
Additional Tags: Angst, Chronic Pain, Disabilities, Life Altering Events Occur, Lazarus Pit Side Effects (DCU), but - Freeform, Like, The Opposite, Jason Todd has a Service Dog, His Name is Buttons, Self-Hatred, Complicated Relationships, Hopeful Ending
Description:
“Jay, I–”
“Please don’t. Just leave me alone.”
Bruce sighs. He’s got his eyes closed, like it physically pains him to even look at Jason. Like he’s this broken, mangled version of himself and not what he’s already been, just as broken and just as warped. His disguise has only been wiped away now, washed with the rain and leaving the scraps of his paint streaking across the ground like an ugly oil spill. Jason’s always been this disfigured, this broken, and it’s about time his body started looking like it.
i reblogged this and then immediatly sat down and opened up a new doc because a child formed herself in my brain and the brain rot grew and grew from there so now i have the bare bones of a multi chapter fic of this kid and jason growing closer together while he heals from everything thats happened and she figures out her own life as well its so silly jasons my skrunkly little guy
Jason knows that when he approaches kids in his entire get up that they're scared of him, and in crises that's... not great. So he's taken to carrying sticker books with him. He has enough pockets for it. He offers the kids stickers, and he lets them put the stickers on his helmet. He has dozens of Red Hood helmets now, all of them have an amalgamation of new and faded stickers.
The rest of the family tries to make fun of him for it, but Jason just holds out his sticker books like "You seem stressed, have a sticker."
Yandere batfam x neglected reader
The cut that always bleed✧.* - what was i made for?
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any grammatical errors that this story may have.
Y/n L/n was a far cry from Y/n Wayne. Despite both last names, each carrying the weight of a turbulent history, "L/n" felt surprisingly lighter. Both names reminded you of the haunting shadows cast by your mother and father, yet they bore different emotional tolls. As you stood before the mirror, a somber reflection gazing back, you pondered on the 13 years—a whole decade and three more—that seemed squandered on people who couldn't hold your gaze for more than fleeting moments.
Of course, the toll it took on your emotional health was immense, but there was nothing you could do about it. You knew that no matter what you did, you could never capture their attention, not even for a moment. By the age of six, you took up martial arts, hoping your family would be proud of you for sharing their passion. But all you received was a pat on the shoulder from Dick when you won a gold medal.
At ten, you delved into video games, hoping to bond with Tim. You spent four days learning all the rules and knowledge about the game, and two whole weeks mastering it. But when you finally mustered the courage to ask Tim to play with you, he stared at you with bored eyes, barely registering your presence. After twelve minutes of rambling about the game, he sighed, pinched his eyes, and said, "I can't. I'm busy, okay?" before leaving your small room. The video game stayed in a box, forgotten and dirty, for thirteen years, a testament to the same treatment you received over and over.
You took every opportunity, every chance to learn something they were talented in, hoping to catch a glimpse of love in their eyes. But all you got were bored, empty stares. Every hobby you had was dedicated to them, except for one: ballet. The art of dancing, with its sharp and strict moves, dancing on your tiptoes, chin up, and a graceful smile on your face. Nothing could take this away from you, not even Cassandra, who was the apple of her family's eyes as she danced on stage. You loved dancing; it filled your heart with joy and bliss. You believed this was the one thing they could never take from you. That's what you thought.
Ballet demanded strict poise and discipline, watching every bite you took and every drink you swallowed. Your mother was a beautiful woman, enchanting enough to enthrall your father. Her eyes could charm thousands of men and bend their morals to her desire. She was like a siren, captivating men with her ethereal beauty. Your father was no different, dazzling people with his money, perfect white teeth, and undeniable allure. He made heads turn and people giggle at his mere presence. So why did you feel as if you were nothing like them? Created by a goddess and a god, yet you turned out to be so unsightly that your mother sneered and threw you out of her arms, forcing you into the embrace of an unknown man.
You panted lightly, staring at your features in the mirror. Why? Why? Why? Why are you like this? Why can't you feel beautiful? Why can't you be beautiful? Why can't you be a sight for sore eyes like the men and women around you? Their features blended so well with their faces, but you? You felt like a pig with makeup on. You saw beauty in everyone but never in yourself.
Your performance is in about a few more days and you haven't eaten anything healthy for the past 3 days, you're starved, you're pressured, and your family hasn't even answered your text in which you, inviting them to please come watch your performance. Dragging your body to walk home, Alfred unfortunately can't drive you home as he is too busy with work (helping your family with their nightly activities) you hiss as the cold wind blew against your fresh scars-the result of you scratching your face with your nails due to resentment for yourself because of the question in the back of your mind: “why can't you just be good enough?”
The harsh glare of your ballet dance teacher only added more pressure, intensifying the burden on your weak shoulders. You carried the lingering thought that your family didn't care about you and the nagging feeling that you would never be good enough for them. The performance was just a few days away, and you hadn't eaten anything healthy for the past three days. You were starved, pressured, and desperately longing for your family's support. Yet, your texts inviting them to watch your performance went unanswered.
Dragging your exhausted body home, you felt a deep sense of despair. Alfred, who usually drove you home, was too busy with work, assisting your family with their nightly activities. As you walked, the cold wind bit into your fresh scars, the result of scratching your face with your nails out of self-loathing. The question haunted you: "Why can't you just be good enough?"
Your footsteps echoed in the empty streets, each step a reminder of your solitude. The streetlights cast long shadows, mirroring the darkness that seemed to envelop your soul. You could hear the distant laughter of families and friends enjoying their evenings, a stark contrast to the silence that filled your life.
But even though you're killing me
Arriving home, you unlocked the door with trembling hands. The house was quiet, as it always was when you were alone. The once warm and inviting living room now felt cold and unwelcoming. You dropped your bag and collapsed onto the couch, burying your face in your hands. Tears streamed down your cheeks, a release of the pent-up frustration and sadness. Gasping for breath as you dragged your shivering legs to your cold, small bed room as you dropped your exhausted form to your squeaking bed, staining your pillows with your tears.
I need you like the air I breathe
In your heart, you still held onto a sliver of hope that your family would show up to your performance. You envisioned them in the audience, watching with pride as you executed every move with precision and grace. But reality was harsh, and you knew deep down that their absence would cut deeper than any physical wound. But you needed them. They were the salt to your wounds yet you still crave for their attention. It's not too late right?
Please.
You spent the next few days in a haze, practicing relentlessly for the upcoming performance. Every pirouette, every leap, and every graceful move was tainted by the thought of your family's indifference. You pushed your body to the limit, hoping that the pain would numb the emotional agony. Again, again, again– again y/n! You need to perfect this! This could be the chance for you to prove to them that you're worthy of their attention! That you belong in this family just as much as they do! You can't give up. Stop trembling. Stop acting so weak. If you don't stop acting like a child then maybe they'll eventually throw you out of the house too.
Please
The day of the performance arrived, and you stood backstage, nervously adjusting your costume. Your heart pounded in your chest as you peeked through the curtains, scanning the audience for familiar faces. But as the minutes ticked by, it became clear that your family was not coming. Your lips trembling, your brain can't fathom the idea of them not coming to this performance—of course you'd expect y/n to be unsurprised by this behavior but it's not fair! You worked so hard for this only for them to answer you with nothing but silence.
I need you more than me
You destroyed yourself for this; for them! You worked every bone in your body and stretched every limb of yours, starved yourself for days, just for them to dismiss your one request to just be there. You just wanted that family where they were all so supportive of you, they all loved and adored you. The worst part is they are just not to you. And you had to learn that the hard way.
I need you more than anything
Summoning every ounce of strength, you stepped onto the stage. The spotlight shone brightly, and for a moment, you felt a surge of confidence. The music began, and you moved with the grace and elegance you had practiced so hard to perfect. Each step was a testament to your dedication, a silent plea for recognition and love. Tears threatening to spill from your eyes as a feeling of pain and happiness surged through your chest.
As you danced, the audience watched in awe. To them, you were a vision of beauty and talent. But inside, you felt empty. Every jump, every turn, and every sway of your limb was dedicated to them. With trembling lips you swallow the lump in your throat and ignore the pain in your chest as you play your part of the performance. The applause at the end of your performance was hollow, a reminder that the ones you longed to impress were not there to see it. Backstage, you received praise from your fellow dancers and instructors, but it did little to lift your spirits. You longed for a simple word of encouragement, a sign that your family cared. Instead, you were met with silence. You smiled faintly at them thanking them and exchanging a few compliments here and there. At this moment you couldn't feel anything. You were numb from all the pain you have suffered from this family.
Please, please
That night, as you lay in bed, the weight of the day's events pressed heavily on your chest. You stared at the ceiling, your mind racing with thoughts of inadequacy. The question echoed once more: "Why can't you just be good enough?"
"Those days are over," you say to yourself as you pack your bags and place your belongings into boxes. You've grown, and after 13 years in the manor begging for scraps of their attention, you've realized that what you want will never become reality. It took you a whole decade and three more years to come to this realization. You shake your head softly and smile sadly. What were you thinking? Of course, they wouldn't care about you. Your normalcy and mediocrity never appealed to them, and you’ve decided those days are finally over. It was time to move out and discover what you were truly meant for.
"What was I made for?"
you ask yourself. This question feels so much better than constantly wondering, "Will they finally look at me?" You take a deep breath, inhaling the fresh air of your new home. You breathe in and out, closing your eyes for a moment. This was it. You had made it. Slowly, you open your eyes and look at the people surrounding you, those who truly cared for you and saw you through your scars of insecurity, your perfect little hobbies, and your flawed personality. To them, you weren't Y/n Wayne, child of a billionaire, nor Y/n L/n, child of a prostitute. You were just Y/n, who tried so hard, failed, but ultimately succeeded.
The manor has been noticeably quiet for the past few days. The silence weighting discomfort as if something was wrong–as if something was missing. It was surprisingly first noticed by none other than Richard Grayson himself. The first Robin of Batman, the irreplaceable side kick, the first son of Bruce Wayne, and the darling of the crowd whom everyone loves and adore. As he walked through the large halls of the home he grew up in, he felt something was out of place. Like something wasn't in place or rather something was missing. It took him some time to figure it out as the clock ticks
Tick
Tock
Tick
Tock
Aha! He's got it! It was because there wasn't any classic orchestral music playing through the thick walls of the manor. The soft music of pyotr tchaikovsky wasn't heard anywhere around the corners of the walls. That's strange. The sweet melody of violins and cellos wasn't found in any room at all. He didn't know why but it bugged him. He sighs as he disregards it, nevermind he said, must be Alfred playing his favorite old songs. He walks around the manor to look for his siblings and father and somehow stumbled upon this.. Unknown and empty small room. “wow this is.. Something” he muttered under his breath. He inspected the room and saw multiple trophies decorating the room. It was impressive how someone can achieve this many gold medals and such. His gaze traveled across the room and saw a box full of webs and dust, and got interested as he opened it to see an old video game and thought that it must have been Tim's before he decided to throw it away out of boredom. With no more much to do he slid through the doors and whistled his way out of the room, unaware of how many memories a person created in that very same room withering away.
Tim and Damian recognized the absence of humming and the pattern of footsteps that used to echo around the house from an unknown room. The silence made them uncomfortable. They had grown so accustomed to the faint noise that it had somehow brought them comfort. The melodic lullaby of humming painted a serene picture of paradise, lulling them easily to sleep—a struggle they had faced all their lives as vigilantes, or in Damian's case, as an assassin. Their heartbeats aligned with the rhythm of the faint noise.
For Tim, it was a sweet form of salvation from the demons that haunted his nights and kept him from a good night's sleep. For Damian, it was the comfort he never knew, a stark contrast to the heavy stare of his grandfather and the weight of expectations placed on his shoulders by his mother's watchful gaze.
Jason couldn't care less about what happens around that manor. He hated that place. It made him rethink all the moments he wished he could take back. Jason Todd is a hateful man but a good soldier. He destroys in order to protect. He kills in order to let another live. A morally gray person. In his eyes he was what Bruce wayne–Batman couldn't be. But even a man who goes out at night to protect needs a break. So when he came to the manor and went straight to the library and saw that the usual piled up classic books weren't to be seen at their usual spot he found it.. Unsettling per say. The books written by Jane Austen that were filled with marked pages, sticky notes, and annotations not found in the main table of the room were strange to him. He didn't even know who did it but it made him feel like he was home. The silly doodles and random words written on the sticky notes, careful not to dirty the book, made him chuckle every time he saw it; so where was it now?
Cassandra was into ballet. She grew up silenced, observing others, forever cautious. as to why she expresses herself through dancing: ballet. A moment where she can breathe and let go. Where she can freely pour her heart into dancing. Every point, every movement, she releases her unsaid emotions. She was raised that way. Except then she was thought to swallow her words and release her pent up emotions into bad things instead of gracefully dancing. She was completely in love with dancing. Whenever she went to collect her ballet shoes there's always an extra bandage, extra shoes played on the floor. She never knew why and she never questioned it. Just ignored it. But now she somehow froze at her spot to see nothing but her shoes and not next to the light pink ones that had a small bow to compliment its design. Ever so stunning; the person who wears it must have been the same kind of persona-wait.. Person? There's another one.. Oh.
Bruce Wayne was a busy man. By day, he handled his company, Wayne Enterprises. His days were filled with paperwork, meetings, and managing marketing strategies. But by night, he never slept. No, he donned the mantle of Batman, the prince of Gotham City, the guardian of Lady Gotham. He didn't have time for anything he deemed unworthy of his attention. He noticed every tiny mistake, be it at work or on the streets of Gotham. At work, he spotted grammatical errors and unstraightened lines of decorative mugs. As Batman, he detected the slightest hint of lies in a criminal's eyes. So, yes, he noticed that something—or rather, someone—from the manor was missing.
As dick whistled his way out of the room unable to find his family members, he decided to go to the batcave and have a little fun while being alone. He did all things he could think of. Look for more cases to solve, dig some stuff out criminal records, blah blah blah.. Then he decided to check the manor's CCTV.
As dick was checking the cctv's of the manor out of boredom, he managed to catch a glimpse of footage-about 2 weeks ago of a person..? Packing their bags and putting things from the manor into a box and leaving. It must be a thief! But that's impossible.. The manor has many securities that even a skilled assassin could not pass through the gates, it's impossible. Unless..
Dick took another glance at the footage and zoomed the screen and squinted his eyes. And for a second, his breath hitched and his heart pumped fast, his hand trembled and his eyes dilated..
It can't be.
You.. Y-..y/n? What were you doing? Where are you going? He bit his lips harshly as he watched the footage like a hawk. His hands came to fidget with his hair. Was that really you? You look so grown.. Several thoughts ran through his mind as he pondered on what you were doing. After a matter of time he somehow remembers. Oh yeah! Your contact number. His hands trembling, in a hurry he pressed your name in his phone and.. Shoot. His eyes widened at the several missed calls and texts from you. Not even a single response from him. Come to think of it, when was the last time he talked to you? Like, really talked to you? He quickly text you “heyy baby birdddd I miss you! Let's hang out right now!” while biting his thumb as he bounced his thighs up and down from anticipation. And then suddenly.. He remembers! The room! It was yours! Before he even knew it, he was quick on his feet and ran like a mad man towards your room. He panted slightly at the face of your door and harshly opened your room unaware of his strength. He went through every corner of your room. He explored every side of your room to find something-anything that can give him even a spoil of information about you. And that was when he found a tiny pink notebook. He chuckled softly, out of breath, hair messed up like a mad man but dick didn't care, no because he finally found your one and only diary! Filled with bows and pink glitters.. Hah..you were so cute. He went through your diary, invading your privacy and saw all of the things you've said. The way you praised him, the way you adored your family, your little adventures, your previous ballet performances (you did ballet? Wow, you're just so talented.. Oh his little bird.) he suddenly heard a high pitched ping! And scrambled to his phone as he expected a response from you but instead all he was met with was “y/n has blocked you”.
What..? Why? Didn't you want to spend time with your precious big brother? His blood shot eyes twitched and sweat ran down from his face. The suddenly a deep voice said:
“dick? What's going on here?”
Note: as promised! Here is the chapter yall asked forrr tell me what you guys think!
Yandere batfam x neglected reader
So, pack up your car, put a hand in your heart, sing what ever you feel, be wherever you are
We ain't angry at you love. ⋆·˚ ༘ *
The pain of the neglected soul. Under the heavy mood lingering in the manor. An architectural design that screams wealth but is never wealthy with love and laughter. well, at least not to the second youngest child of Bruce Wayne, the billionaire playboy, the most powerful man in Gotham City.
Being a product of a mistake between an infamous prostitute and a well-known, almost "celebrity"-like man was not really an ideal life. Being shunned away by the woman who you call Mom, who's supposed to whisper sweet words to you and rock your fragile body back and forth to ease you of whatever you feel bad about, instead shoves you into the arms of an unknown man who's your supposed father. Yeah, that sucks.You've always adored your mom. Despite the horrible words she casually whispers to you - "you ruined me, kid"—you turn a blind eye to her actions and act deaf to her cruel words and instead pretend that she's the mom who loves you and adores you just as much as you do for her. Because it was better. It just was. Your brain can't really process the fact that your abusive mother can be abusive. No, not when she was the one who carried you for 273 days, birthed you, and gave you your name. A 5-year-old's brain can't possibly carry the thought of having that same woman hate you. So even when it was your birthday, you waited for her all day to come home and give you kisses and maybe a birthday cupcake or present. just for once, she comes home drunk, messy, and dizzy with a man on her arms while laughing feverishly. It crazy to think that was the most happiest you've seen her; she was always scowling when she was with you. Strange. Even so you greet her with a hug. "Momma, I've been waiting for you all day—" she cuts you off and tells you to get away from her and calls you this strange name "annoying" huh. Wonder what that means. And for the next hours you spend your birthday alone, in your bedroom. Awake and hungry. But it doesn't matter at least mom came home! Sometimes she doesn't even come home for a few days, but she came home today! That means she must love you. Only for a few days she stays at home with the strange man she brought home on the day of your birthday. It doesn't bother you, it was normal after all. She always do this and then after a few days the man's gone. Yeah, this is just temporary. You say as you clean the house full of dirty clothes and empty alcohol bottles. And then one night the strange man is yelling at your mom; screams filled the tiny apartment with smashing sounds of bottles echoing around the room. You're furious, and you want to defend the woman who you oh so lovingly call "mother" You push the man away, and it angers him. With his bloodshot eyes, he grabbed the bottle and smashed it at the side of your tiny head. You soon wake up in a large room with bright lights and thick white walls. Soon you find out that you're in a hospital; its so cool, it's the size of your living room! Maybe even bigger… Moments later you found out that your mother gave you up to some unknown man who is to be called your "father.". You thrash and scream against the nurse's hold and scream for your mommy, yet she never came.A strange man came and introduced himself. He said he was "Alfred" and said from now on he will take care of you. That's silly because no one in your entire life has had someone take care of you. Soon he drives you to a gloomy big house with lots of statues as Alfred proceeds to tell you that this will be your new home now. Different portraits adorn the walls, and shiny pottery and impressive works of art fill the house. Alfred soon introduced you to your father, Bruce Wayne. Now this is where it all starts. With your new home, hope sparked through your heart, and you believed that somehow, someway, maybe you'll be able to get the love that you have always longed for, yearned for, waited for.
Wrong.
Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy, the most powerful man of Gotham, the heartthrob, the Batman, but never the father of y/n l/n. He doesn't even know you. Doesn't even try to acknowledge you and your hard work, desperate to try anything to make him pay attention to you. To give you the attention you crave and yearn for ever since you arrived at the comfort of his home. You weren't stupid. You knew who he was and his nightly activities. You understood. But what hurts was that despite this, he managed to give every. Single. One. Of his children, attention except you. Was it because you weren't like them? Was it because you didn't fight bad guys for a hobby? Or was it because he never deemed you worthy of his time? Why? Were all the things the kids and big adults whispered behind your back true? That you were a child of a whore and you were bound to become one too over a matter of time? Was it true you'll never compare to your siblings? Being compared to your siblings, who had so much talent and had their own special abilities that yours can't compare to, was draining—and partially true. Your little ballet classes can never impress bruce over his other children's combat skills, multilingual abilities, and genius calculations. And you learned to accept that over the years as you grew up.
Richard grayson, dick, the loving big brother, the family guy. Maybe he was a good guy. After all, he managed to acknowledge you for about 6 seconds one time! He even asked you about your ballet classes! Though that was only to distract his self before Damian came. Always the big brother and Lil brother duo! .. Despite being busy with being a full-time cop and a vigilante, he still makes time for family, the ones he considers as family. Not you, never you. Who were you kidding? Dick is the star of the show, and you're just another side character in his main character life! Just a plain, old, boring bystander. That's all you will ever be to little Richard Grayson's glam life story.
Jason todd was different. He was known as someone who was brutal and full of anger. So it was no problem for him to shove you and tell you off. He had no conscience in telling you to go away, and you liked that. You like the fact that at least he had the decency to not give you false hope. Jason todd hates you, and you know it. Jason todd is jealous of your normalcy and how oblivious you are to the danger of the world. In his eyes, you were his replacement; looking at you makes the green monster of envy crawl out of him and take his anger out on you. The way you are so vulnerable stirs something up inside of him, and he realizes that your eyes look just like his when he was full of wonder and innocence. It made him restless and irritated. It reminded him of his mistakes, foolishness, and those memories he buried deep inside his mind to save him from countless nightmares he desperately ran away from.
Timothy Drake, the genius Robin, the hero by choice, the prodigy son. You would be lying if you said that you weren't jealous of Tim at all. I mean, look at him! He's a genius, a hero, a heartthrob, and a role model to several youths of Gotham. He was exactly like Bruce, and I mean exactly like Bruce. His life revolved around solving crimes, fighting bad guys, acing all of his tests, and coffee. Anything was more important other than you. Sure! He has time to cuddle with his family for movie night (without you, of course) but never has the time to play video games with you. Everything seemed to send thrills to his veins and spark an interest in him except your very existence. If you were just a mere bystander in Dick's story, you weren't even in Tim's!
Cassandra. The girl of the family. You have always envied her. Not only was she the only girl of the family and doted on by every single one of your brothers, but you and she also shared the same interest. What's even more infuriating was that she didn't even have to try. She didn't have to beg countless times to have anyone attend her performances because they were all there. Even Jason, who hid in the shadows. They were all there to support her and show her the love you have always asked for, begged for. She swooned all of them with her dancing, and you can't help that maybe her hands are more gentle, maybe her feet are more pointed, maybe her posture is more straight than yours, maybe she's prettier than you, maybe she's more worth than you.
And finally. Damian al Ghul Wayne. The youngest son, the baby brother, the scarred child loved by his family. When Damian came into the manor, you were thrilled. You thought that maybe you and he could bond over the same trauma. Maybe finally someone can understand you.You thought wrong again. Damian thought you were weak and a disgrace to the bloodline of the Wayne family clan. He called you thousands of cruel names and insulted you whenever he had the chance to. He always belittled you and showed you no mercy, going as far as to drag the blade of his sword across your neck, drawing blood, just for him to cruelly laugh in your face and tell you that you are being dramatic. You forgave him. You were a good kid. Right? So why is it that a kid who made thousands of innocent lives bleed through his sword is sitting with his father—your father—on the couch, sleeping soundly on his chest? It's not fair.
They were never fair.
As Dick was checking the CCTV footage of the manor out of boredom, he managed to catch a glimpse of footage—about 2 weeks ago—of a person packing their bags and putting things from the manor into a box and leaving. It must be a thief! But that's impossible. The manor has many securities that even a skilled assassin could not pass through the gates; it's impossible. Unless…Dick took another glance at the footage and zoomed in on the screen and squinted his eyes. And for a second, his breath hitched and his heart pumped fast, his hand trembled, and his eyes dilated.
It can't be.
"Thomas Wayne has mysterious friend. When he and his wife pass away, his friend's family pays a visit" Childhood friend, Krypton survives AU. An old fan comic strip I drew for mid Autumn festival last year based on a comic where Thomas and Jor-El met before Bruce n Clark was born. I might draw a pt 2
THIS. this is so true
So I just started reading the Webtoon series Red Hood: Outlaws.
First of all. I'm glad we are getting more Jason Todd/Red Hood content.
Second
THEY ALL LOOK LIKE SOMEONE YOU COULD JUST-
Bruce saying "Don't make me call Alfred." Is like the equivalent of a dad saying "Don't make me call your mother." And it's so funny to me 🤣🤣
𝗕𝗿𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘆𝗻𝗲 𝗮𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗰
𝗠𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗼𝗼𝗻
Hey here's some songs that I think match (, but keep in mind I was reading Angst fics when collecting the songs)
Jason- Mad Hatter Malanie Martinez, Control Halsey, I'm gonna show you crazy Bebe Rexha, Ain't No Rest For The Wicked Cage The Elephant, House Of Memories Panic!At the Disco, I'm Just Your Problem Adventure Time(Bruce), War and Apologize by grandson, Wonderland Caravan Palace and Boy in the Bubble Alec Benjamin
Dick- Sarcasm Get Scared, Favourite color is Blue Robert DeLong, SAD Young Rising Sons, Novocaine and Last of the Real ones by Fall out boy, Lonely Palaye Royale, Wolf in Sheeps Clothing Set it of(id crisis), Shit Bo Burnham(depressed),Burn the House Down AJR, Teeth 5 seconds of summer(SlaDick), Lotta True Crime Penelope Scott(rape, dark), Best Friends grandson, Wake me up and Hey Brother by Avicii, Medicine Artist vs Poet and Victorious Panic! At the Disco
Damian- Bones Imagine Dragons(Robin is magic), If I Killed someone for you Alec Benjamin, parents YUNGBLUD(his perspective/scared of saying he's gay), Love Like You and Here comes a thought Steven Universe,and Immortals Fall out boy(mini SuperBat)
Tim- I'll Sleep when I'm dead Set it off, Crazy=Genius Panic!At the Disco and Two Birds Regina Spektor
Bruce- Teenagers and Welcome to the Black parade by MCR and Wilson(Expensive mistakes) Fall out Boy
There are less songs for Tim and Bruce because I don't know their lore that well or don't listen to music that matches them.
Bruce complaining to Clark: Look EVERY TIME I'm not wearing glasses and am trying to guess which of my dark haired children I'm looking at, it's like playing russian roulette and IT IS russian roulette, because if I get Jason wrong somebody WILL get shot.....
...
...
...
...
And that's why Duke, Barbara and Steph are my favourites.
Another reason why I’m a firm believer in letting Bruce get old is because the idea of him looking and his dark haired children without his glasses on and genuinely not being able to tell them apart is unparalleled
We need more aus and fics were Bruce somehow ends up adopting all of his kids around the same time
I could see Bruce getting Damian out of the League of Shadows as a baby and taking in everyone else as kids
Bruce: He’ll be ready eventually. You can take the boy out of the circus but can’t take the circus out of the boy.
Dick: Your arch enemy is a clown and I’m surrounded by more people in tights than I did in the Flying Graysons. I never left the circus.
Rest in peace Kevin Conroy (Batman's VA)
nicotine addicted Jim Gordon, yes, but imagine him ripping a bright pink vape at a crime scene instead of cigarettes and blowing the most obnoxious, cotton candy-flavored cloud into the air while he’s working the case.
Batman: “What do we know about the victim?”
Jim Gordon, hitting his vape so hard everyone within ten feet feels their eyes water: “…cause of death was asphyxiation.”
Batman: “you don’t say.”
@malfiora found it for me so I'm gonna share it! I genuinely love this so much, it's such a Thing that would become part of Gotham's cultural zeitgeist.
Imagine the first time each of them heard some kids singing this?! Imagine if it's a cryptid Batfamily au and the song breaks containment before the other heroes know them? So much possibility, so much potential, I love it.
Listen... All I know is that the kids I babysit were singing that one Gummy Bear song and next thing I knew my brain made a parody
This is the chaos I'm here for damnit. I wanna eat this as a long form, slow burn, multi-chapter, identity porn fic because it'd be delicious.
I've had this idea rotating in my head for a while about a specific scenario in a universe where nobody is ever clued in on the fact that the bats are related. They just assume that Robin, Red Robin, Red Hood, Nightwing, and everybody else just coincidentally happens to be Gotham (+Bludhaven) based like Batman is.
Do me a favor and imagine the aftermath of some stage five hall hands on deck crisis where everyone and their team has to gather for debriefing and for medical care. Everybody shows up with their respective teams, Nightwing with his Titans, Red Robin with the old members of YJ, Red Hood with the Outlaws, Batman with the JL ect ect.
Everyone is super tired from the battle and none of them are even given a moment to breathe before Red Hood and Red Robin start beefing on sight. Before anybody can even think to intervene, Nightwing, Orphan, Spoiler, Robin, and Signal join in and they all just start bickering at one another.
Everybody thinks they're about to fight. Like seriously start hashing it out. Thing is, YJ are RR's ride or dies. If RR starts fighting Nightwing then the YJ are gonna fight Nightwing. And then the titans are gonna fight the YJ because those are Nightwing's ride or dies. Same goes for all the teams and their respective leaders.
Everyone looks across the room going, "Am I gonna have to fight you? Man, I don't wanna fight you." They could not wanna fight because of the prior battle, out of respect for their potential opponents, or because they know that opponent would whoop their ass. But they'll still do it because that's their leader.
Eventually all of them stop their bickering, suspending the room in tense silence, as they stare each other down. Everybody is bracing themselves for the first punch and the JL is preparing to break up the fight, but instead the silence is broken by all of the birds turning their heads in one direction and yelling, "Daaaaaaddd!"
The room is dead silent enough that everyone can hear Batman's exhausted sigh echo through the room before it's followed by, "You're all grounded."
Every time I see someone complain about Red Robin's design, specifically his cowl, and that it's ugly and makes him look old...
Honey, This bitch has no spleen? He is planning ahead for his sick days when one of the other bats has to dress up as him. The cowl will be useful. And it's probably got at least a little protection and padding, which is a good thing.
I want y'all to remember how goofy Bruce looked in Nightwing's uniform when he pulled body-double duty for Dick. The dude was noble, but he was not serving Nightwing.
(Plus, can Bernard can wear it and they can have a sex scandal to distract people at any point in time)
Okay, getting my Asexual-spectrum Batman brainrot in some sort of order, everything is subject to being updated.
This turned out long and rambling, just the way I like it.
My main inspiration for this is a scene from the Christopher Nolan Batman trilogy, where Bruce and Alfred are discussing how to reintroduce Bruce into Gotham society. It's been awhile since I saw the film but I'm pretty sure Bruce looks at Alfred and is like, "So, what do young billionaires do that would explain vigilante injuries?" And then the scene cuts to Bruce and two foreign models swimming in a fountain at a fancy restaurant. And I'm like.
Fucking. Alfred. Suggested the himbo thing? Was this a passive-aggressive punishment for fucking off for years that went on for too long?
(I love my main man Mr. Pennyworth, I will meme that he's a saint. In reality, I think he's part of the reason the Robins keep having a terrible time passing on the mantle. I can address my grievances in another post tho.)
So I'm there, thinking about Batman and Bruce and growing up in private schools. I'm in the process of unlearning some damaging information that I was taught as "truth" from my own school days. I'm thinking of Butler Alfred, and his position as caretaker, and how he was raised, and what he would think is appropriate counsel.
When Bruce is hitting puberty and writing love poems to the tune of BeeGees songs to girls in class, how would Alfred handle that? He'd surely have a perfunctory talk with his charge about respecting women, how to be a proper gentleman, safe sex, warnings about people who are out for Bruce's heart as a way to get to his status and fortune.
But would Alfred even think to cover queerness? He surely knows of it, but he's from a generation and culture that is known for stoicism and silence. The generation where one might know a pair of "confirmed bachelors" or "spinster sisters", but one does not mention it in polite company. Perhaps he would decide to have that talk if it ever seems to be necessary.
But would Bruce ever think to ask about why he isn't as interested in sex as seemingly all the people around him? Why wouldn't he chalk that up to his massive trauma and call himself mature for it? And a number of girls would love that maturity, that Ice Prince gentility, that challenge. So he'd learn how to be charming, how to flirt. It's applied psychology to Bruce, it's masking, it's learning how to act like a "normal" human.
It's easy for me to see him continue that trend in his adult life. He is romantic and he isn't sex-repulsed; he matches the flirtation energy of someone and if they both want to have sex, they do. It's kind of fun for him, too, to learn someone's body and use his to make them feel so good.
It's just that, sex is just a mutual workout? And he legitimately enjoys doing other things together equally or more, like actual workouts or sparring or casework. Bruce will initiate sex if he picks up his partner's cues, but by the time he's comfortable enough with them to relax... He's just not in clue-finding mode. So partners become understandably annoyed. Upset. They feel like they're the ones putting in all the effort to keep the relationship alive and Bruce doesn't have the knowledge or words to explain his position.
So yeah, there are jokes about Batman being easy, jokes about his history of romantic relationships with rogues, civilians, and heroes alike. He's just doing what he thought was normal. Flirting back, following the other person's lead, matching the energy. It frustrates him when he thinks about it, because it's just another way he's Different and Broken and Missing Something that the rest of the world seems to understand on a basic level.
(To be firm: Bruce Does Not Match the energy of everyone who flirts with him. He is an adult and has his own tastes. He's got Polite Flirting, Interested Flirting, and Gray Rocking down pat.)