#wayne fic

[kaicubus]

Shoplifting | Wayne M.

warnings ✩° : smut, cursing, partial exhibitionism, fucking in a public place but in a private setting, enclosed space intimacy, p in v, unprotected sex bc i forgot to write a condom in, cursing.

pairing ✩° : wayne x fem!reader, characters are of age and NOT minors.

premise ✩° : known to be a bit of a kleptomaniac, you go to the mall with wayne in hopes of stealing some pricey clothes from a store only to find the two of you locked inside a changing room. what better to do than to take advantage of the situation?

word count ✩° : 4.8k

authors note ✩° : guys writers block is real. finishing this was HELL. might take a short break...just like this fic tho it’s short and rushed...i need my smut writing skills to improve IMMEDIATELY.

There’s something about the color orange that sticks out to you. Most people don’t like it, some do, but only because they’re taught it means warmth like summer or sweet like a tangerine. But you always thought orange was just a really nice color, no explanation. That’s why you chose it.

It was found on a rack in one of the most expensive stores in the mall that was known for its wide, yet very exclusive, selection of tops and lingerie. Victoria’s Secret.The prices in that store are always really high, so you just like to browse. Or at least that’s what you make it seem like.

Truth is, being a bit of a kleptomaniac has its perks. You don’t even think twice about grabbing tubes of $20 lip glosses or $36 perfumes and sliding them up your long sleeve hoodies or jean pockets. It comes naturally and you are a known prodigy in your craft. Long before anyone can realize or even detect on cameras, you leave with your pockets full of both money and items that would cost a fortune. The mall is your playground, and it’s not hard to get what you want.

Today you came in with your boyfriend Wayne, who’s known to be very strange looking. That’s not a bad thing, since it works out in your favor sometimes when you’re being followed or people try to hit on you or even worse, try and hurt you. But other than that, Wayne is known to be the reason people look the other way or lock their doors and shade their windows. No one knows how loving he is towards you, like a bear drawn to honey. He would do anything for you. But, side by side, it would be hard to go into certain stores without be given weird glances or worse, followed around.

When you first entered Victoria’s secret, you told Wayne specifically to wait outside, but knowing he’d get impatient with you, you gave him a task instead and asked for different sizes of different sets you liked. He gladly accepted, leaving you alone to try on different undergarments and admire yourself in the mirror for as long as two minutes per set. You knew he’d be at a loss without you in a forest of lace and ivory mannequins, and a part of you liked knowing that. You're lost in your own thoughts when you came across the orange and white set, now fitting along the curves of your waist and hugging the plushness of your belly, pinching you in all the right places that only enhances your beauty.

Your eyes trace along the fabric, how the white mesh covers over your barely hidden breasts, little embroidered oranges scattered across it in an orderly fashion. The cuteness of the design completely clashed with the way the bra was manufactured to be what you liked to call a window piece, but it seemed to work really well. You spin around, glancing at the panties from behind and noticing how it straddled your inner thighs and almost pushed out your ass more than usual. 

It was a good look, maybe a bit too tight, but it wasn’t constricting. Of course, the price made you gag, making it more appetizing to take off and slip into your tote bag resting on the seat provided in the dressing room you're already in. All you had to do was take off the tag and toss it on the floor, on top of the mirror or something. Luckily for you, taking off tags was one of your specialties, though finding them was a struggle.

You let out a sigh and begin tapping your hand around the usual places where a tag would be : on the side of the underwear, back of the bra, inside of the bra, but none seemed to have the tag. You started to wonder if the tag was already taken off which would make snagging it much easier than you’d hoped until the sharp edge of the thin piece of hard plastic struck the tip of your finger, located on the very back of the bra. Finding the plastic attachment of the tag, your fingers curl around to gain tension and then you start to pull at it, plucking it off easily. In your moment of fumbling however, you notice the doorknob start to jiggle just enough to catch your attention.

For a moment, you freeze. Every nerve in your body tells you to stop even though your thoughts are screaming to move and get the garment off your body, but you don’t move. Your hands stay on the tag and instead, you watch the doorknob slowly turn, painfully staring with an owl like expression, each hair standing upright. That all stopped when the door slowly pushes itself open, revealing a very familiar tattered hand, bruises and cuts all over pale skin, holding two more sizes of the same two piece set you had tried on earlier.

You feel a wave or relaxation wash over your body as your eyes stare into your boyfriend’s dull, grayish eyes that seem to go full and wide when he looks at you. Only this time, his head is just slightly tilted down as he’s busy looking at other bra and underwear sets of the same orange piece.

“I got the other sizes.” Wayne says, “They said all these funny lookin’ numbers, but I just took whatever ones looked like your size and—”

You grab the doorknob quickly and pull Wayne in, shoving him against the wall next to you with a firm hand on his arm in just under a second. Your eyes flare with a flash of anger, anger at Wayne that he managed to scare you so bad, but also anger that you got worked up for no reason. The pounding of your heart in your chest makes you shake.

“Jesus, Wayne! You scared me! I thought you were a worker trying to get in here! They have sensors you know!” You say, still gripping onto him, not even paying attention to the clothing now piled on the floor. “Why don’t you knock first?”

“Why would I knock?” Wayne questions, “And why would a worker be trying to come in here when it says occupied? I thought we weren't doing illegal shit today, we got the money, don’t we?”

Though his questions make sense and have reasoning, you can’t help but remain a little flustered.

For a second, there’s silence between you two. Even if he wasn’t shoved in with you, Wayne didn’t even look down when he was first pulled into the stall with you, and you had completely forgotten you were next to being naked in front of him. You knew that the only thing protecting your dignity and saving you from embarrassment was a thin layer of orange mesh with tiny embroidered oranges. Wayne seemed to know that too.

“You look...pretty.” He says, leaning back against the wall behind him, “I like your oranges.” His awkwardness makes him cringe, but it makes you laugh instead. Wayne wasn’t a smooth talker, so his execution of his compliments hardly made way of what he actually wanted them to be. But he could hardly even focus, especially now.

“Thanks.” You twist around and accidentally brush up against him, “I like it a lot, what other sizes did you get?” You grab the bundle of hangers and hold each one up, looking at the slight difference in the sizing. Wayne had a habit of looking into you while he spoke, you always noticed. When he listened to you talk, and especially when he liked what you were saying, he would subconsciously lean forward, almost as if he was drawn to you.

In that habit, Wayne had forgotten about how close you two are and in leaning forward, ends up stumbling over you and knocking you directly into the wall in front of you. In an attempt to catch himself and not slam the both of you into the wall, his open hands fly to your hips and he quickly grabs onto the sides of your half covered ass.

There were many times where Wayne had touched you like that before, it’s no new news that you two have sex. But this time was different. This time, you guys knew you weren't alone and there were many clueless shoppers and staff around, and for that reason it felt off. Still, the proximity of both you and him closes in a second and by the way you're dressed, and the way he’s so close to you, holding you from behind.

“We should probably pay for this. It’s getting kind of stuffy in here anyways. How much you got anyways?” You turn your head over your shoulder, expecting him to move first, but he doesn't.

“Probably enough to buy this thing for you.” Wayne pinches an orange cream ribbon from the side and drops it back down, “Why oranges?”

“I saw it and it looked cute, does it not? You just said it was pretty.”

He looks at you with the same puppy eyes he always has on and gives a small smile of reassurance, moving his hands up from your hips to the sides of your stomach, slowly traveling up your body. 

“You forget we’re kinda in the middle of the mall here?” A grin plays unto your lips and you grab his wrist to stop one of his hands from moving up to your chest.

Wayne lets out a breathy sigh that tickles your ear, and you start to feel his rough and calloused hand start to squeeze and massage your breast. “There’s no one around. Plus, the door’s locked from the outside.”

Pause. “What.”

He looks at you in confusion and stops all movement, tilting his head to the side so his fluffy brown hair spills onto his shoulder. “What?” He doesn’t get it.

“What do you mean the door’s locked from the outside?!“ You spin around and shove your hands against Wayne’s chest, easily moving him out of the way. You wiggle the door knob, and low and behold, “It’s locked!?!”

Wayne rubs his hair back confusingly, “Yeah? I just said that, didn't I?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you were serious! Did you lock it?”

“I didn't, no, but I saw a sign outside that had red marker over a piece of paper. Something about ‘do not enter’ and ‘stall is closed for maintenance and will not close.’ But it was the only one alone from all the others, and I’d be able to unlock it if need be.”

“Wayne! Do you realize that we’re both in here now?!” There was no point in arguing. On one hand, if you argue your way to a loud volume, you both would be found out and arrested for taking tags off of expensive merchandise. On the other, you would most likely rot there until something busted you out. The second option started to seem better than the first, judging by your circumstances. Plus, though anyone with half a brain could read the sign and understand it, but Wayne didn’t have half a brain. He just did what he wanted.

You flash your boyfriend an apologetic look, batting your lashes down and swaying your hips backwards to give yourself some room in the cramped stall. By the way he looks at you back, your heart aches a little for raising your voice.

“It’s not all bad, Wayne.” You touch his arm and smile, “It could be worse. Like, this could be a new changing room and the lock wouldn’t be rusted shut...and...it’d be harder to get out...?” You hide the fact you have no idea what you were saying, only trying to muster something out so Wayne would feel less horrible about himself. It was no use though, the same expression sat on his eyes and down turned lips. But he appreciates it nonetheless.

Wayne nods and looks back into your eyes. You flash him a smile before turning your back towards him, lifting your hair to the side and exposing your ribbon caged back to him. “Can you try and get this thing off? I can’t breathe very well and I’m trying to get the tag off.”

Wayne hesitates. “How’d you even get it on in the first place? I don’t even see a zipper.”

"These things don’t need a zipper. Just a pair of hands to untie it and get it on.”

He shrugs and starts to untie the piece, tugging at thin ribbons and cute lace embroidery, toying at the fabric like some cat batting around a yarn string. When it becomes clear that Wayne doesn’t know what he’s doing in the slightest, you turn around to face him and give him a disappointed look. But, in your attempt to do so, your top instantly falls to the ground, startling both you and Wayne.

“I-I had it.” Wayne chokes out, covering his eyes and desperately trying not to give into any thoughts to look at all the places he shouldn’t.

“It’s fine! Just let me—“ You bend down and try to pick up the top, accidentally bumping directly into Wayne, crashing right against his legs. When you try to stand up, Wayne moves forward to give you more room, but ends up throwing off your balance over all.

“Sorry—It’s just so cramped in here! Here, wait, go over there! No, over there—fine, ok I’ll go! Ugh! Wayne!“ You groan in frustration and finally, manage to stand up. Only, now you’re somehow closer than you were before, only centimeters apart to Wayne’s face, who’s now up against a wall, halfway down it.

His hands twitch as they lay on the smoothness of your thighs, giving into the slightest touch and only itching to have more. He quickly finds it in himself to pull you closer, bumping your exposed chest into his clothed one, not caring or even paying any mind to your nudity. He only curls his fingers of his unoccupied hand into your hair, reaching up and gently closing the gap between you.

You hadn’t realized before just how soothing Wayne’s kisses were. In fact, they were the only thing keeping you from freaking out, quite literally naked and full of anxiety that someone could walk in and see you both. But all fear washes out as soon as Wayne reminds you, yet again, to keep your attention on him.

It’s hard to focus on just him though, with people talking around you, the sound of metal hangers gliding across racks

He spoke slowly, “Can I?” asking for permission. With a head nod, you agree and maybe without thinking, you lean forward and kiss him again.

With no room to make any sound or talk after that, Wayne pulls you onto his chest, hoisting you up just enough so he can hold you with both arms. Even when his eyes are closed, he still knows the way to your body as if they were wide open. He begins to move his hand south, brushing his rough skin against your smooth body, tangling his digits in the spaces of the orange silk. You can feel his chest expand as a sign of his impatience, wasting no time to pry the fabric off your lower half.

You let him do all the work, since you have no room to, and feel as he undoes his own belt and shags it down just enough so the rough denim of his jeans hangs off his hips, enabling a window of his boxers to be seen. Even though you're too busy trying to stay quiet, the scene is all too familiar, you can practically see everything. Wayne hurriedly takes himself out, fixing his hold on you as he releases his cock out of it’s confinement, and wastes no time to press against you.

As you look down, the sight of his tip already soaked in precum makes your heart flutter. It’s just as hard and erect as you thought it’d be, seeing as the effects of your outfit must have worked like a charm.

“I uh...I thought of—” Wayne opens his lips and tries to say, his voice an level higher than a whisper.

“Shh!” You hush, already somehow winded, “Shut up.”

Wayne presses his lips together and nods, a bit stunned from your hostility. But there was no room to be nice, there was no room to do anything at all. Almost instantly, his big hands ride the saddle of your hips and he snaps back into motion.

“Hm!” You let out a small yelp as Wayne enters his way into you, pushing the lacy material of the orange underwear to the side, he uses the tip of his cock to part your legs open, his size stretching you just enough to send both of you over the edge. He waits for a second, just to catch his breath, and watches you as you adjust to his size. He’s always been a bit too big for a daily fuck, but you barley paid any attention to it. When you’ve caught your breath, you look up at Wayne and give him a nod, silently telling him that you’re ready for him to move. He nods back which moves the choppy bangs in front of his eyes to sway forward.

His pace is slow, at first, not wanting to hurt you but also a bit rushed, seeing as the public place isn’t the most convenient to share an intimate moment with. But seeing as you hadn’t planned it at all, you had little room to complain.

Even with what little room you have, you find yourself subtly grinding back on Wayne’s groin, not even thinking. The small movement makes him throb inside of you, an uncontrollable response. Before you two know it, you pull away and gasp for air, hot breaths meshing together as you try and catch what little oxygen the room has to offer. It’s stuffy, so it doesn’t help the rising temperature between you, and the heat emitting off your bare chest makes it worse.

Wayne watches as a string of saliva connects from his lips to yours and breaks instantly, effectively making your lips wetter and rosier than usual. The sight makes his heart pound. You barely register his expression before he moves again, rutting himself against you like a depraved animal.

Not wanting to make a sound, two hand covers your mouth as Wayne starts to thrust his hips into yours, hard and deeply. Wayne can’t move as much as he’d like, if he had the opportunity, he’d absolutely ravage you like he usually does, savoring each moment and taking it slow. Once he grabs hold of your hips and starts moving your body against his, the combination turns deadly.

You squeeze your eyes shut tight but Wayne refuses to look away. His icy brown eyes practically glued on your eyelids beg for you to open yours and just look at him.

Labored breathing works its way out of Wayne as you writhe under his touch, scraping your nails into his back, even with a shirt on, managing to make a few red marks that’ll sure to appear later. He didn’t mind, Wayne’s only concern was fucking you as quick as possible and then find a way to get out of the dressing room without being noticed. But how can he think clearly when all he can hear is the struggled, barley muffled noises coming from your mouth?

“Open your legs a little.” You can barley hear his voice, it’s so quiet. He must’ve actually listened. “Right there, just like that.”

It feels too good. Better than usual in fact, to the point where the idea of stopping or slowing down quickly fades out of the picture. All of Wayne’s lack of reason only clouds his head and encourages him to speed up his pace, using a firm hold on your chest with the crook of his arms to hoist you up and arch your back manually for him to get in a better angle. You never thought it was possible to be this overwhelmed with everything all at once. Jolting downwards more, you let out uncontrollable moans, just barely being muffled by the palm of your hand to attempt to conceal your location as best as you can. Still though, Wayne remains completely unbothered and continues to thrust into you, the sides of his length rutting against your walls as loud as he can possibly make it.

A bit of frustration takes control as you twist over your shoulder, giving him an annoyed expression as he looks at you with a heavy-lidded stare of confusion. It’s moments like these where you wished he had a bit more common sense than what he had by default.

“S-Slow down! I can’t keep up!” You groan out, shuffling back into him to try and bump your hips with his.

Wayne grips your hips closer, harder, which makes you moan out again, only louder, and encloses the distance between your mouths with his lips on yours. You struggle to find the right part of him to grab on, slapping your hands on his chest, arm, and finding his back that eventually satisfies as a place to hold on to. He, instead, finds the underside of your thigh. The feeling of his fingers pressing lightly into your sensitive skin makes the hair stand on your body, losing grip on his back, turns into frantic touching.The sting of his nails digging into your flesh makes your head spin and very quickly forget all sensibility, allowing him to speed up again.

You can only hear the creaking of the feeble, obviously run down condition of the stalls next to you, as well as a bit of tapping from the metal lock clanging together.

With every sharp thrust, Wayne hoists you up, shoving you against the wall in front of you. He doesn’t mean to, but it’s enough to send all sorts of vibrations of heat to your core, basically slamming arousal into you each time. Wayne stares at your hands clamped over your mouth, eyes full of tears from the heightened feeling inside your stomach. You can’t bear to look at him anymore in fear of cumming too early, to which he’s well aware of, yet he pushes you against the wall one last time, nearly tossing you off the edge.

”Y-You're making too much noise—” You tear your hands away from your mouth for a second, just to protest his roughness, but Wayne takes the chance and plants his pliant lips against yours. When his mouth meets yours, his tongue roughly licks down, making a wet plucking sound when he pulls away, only to repeat several times. 

“Someone might hear us, just w-wait a second!” You clench down around his cock, locking your thighs around Wayne’s waist to try and get him to slow down. But it doesn’t help. 

You feel yourself spiraling, head reeling, as Wayne hurries his hips against yours and pounds into you, over and over again, just rocking you back and forth as quietly as he can. But even he can’t think right now, so he doesn’t even count how many ‘accidental’ times he’s made a loud squeak or shuffled his shoes against the floor to get a better hold on you.

Your walls tighten and suddenly you’re seeing nothing but the surface of Wayne’s shoulder, biting down on the thin fabric of his t-shirt, “Oh fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!” The taste of cotton laps over your taste buds, but even that isn’t enough to ignore the feeling of Wayne speeding up, now desperate to chase the high you both have worked so hard to finish.

He moans in pleasure and starts to pepper your bear shoulder in sporadic kisses, biting and marking down on your skin to silence himself just enough to last for a few more seconds. Just a few more.

Just a few more was all it takes before the pleasure finally collapses and so do you, right onto Wayne. He finally stops all movement and lets you ride out your orgasm, slowly pumping in and out of you to finish himself off as well. You want to cry, you want to curse, you want to scream his name but all you can do is sit as silently as you can on his arms, holding onto your mouth for dear life. Wayne huffs with his voice, raw with restraint and gruff with passion, watching your sad attempts at trying to keep it all together despite his cum filling every gap of your body up. “M-Mhm! Mh mh!” You let out a segmented sigh, your breath falling short on and dying half way. When Wayne pulls your body off of him, just enough for his cock to spring out of your insides, you can feel a bit of slick leak down the side of your trembling leg. You dare not make another noise.

You break away panting, maintaining eye contact with Wayne as he rubs his hands all over your body, almost apologetically for making so much noise. You can hardly see straight since all the blood in your body seemed to go directly to your head. For a second, there’s silence, a time to actually catch your breath without worrying someone is waiting outside for you. You glance up at Wayne, who’s gasping for air as much as you are, smiling, “Let’s never do that again.”

Wayne laughs a bit and bites his bottom lip. You can barely move from the pure ecstasy as he sets you down gently, legs suddenly losing their solid form and quickly turning into jelly. You cling onto him for stability and quietly look up at him again, to which he gives an understanding head nod.

Wayne goes to kiss you but suddenly gets interrupted by a knocking from outside.

“Excuse me?” A voice says, accompanied by the faint jingle of keys on a key ring.

“SHIT!” You mouth, profanity now spilling out of your lips faster than ever. A flicker of panic splashes across your face as the subtle sound of the door unlocking fills every gap and space in the small room. Wayne goes to turn around to hide but ends up bumping into the wall, cursing a bit as well before spinning back to you with his hand on his head.

“There’s a uh. Wall there. Just in case you didn’t know.” He whispers.

“I KNOW THERE’S A FUCKING WALL THERE JUST GIVE ME MY CLOTHES!” You demand with an open hand.

It doesn’t feel real, but just in the amount of time you have, you manage to throw on your jeans over your shifted orange underwear and shirt, stuffing the orange lingerie top from the ground into your regular bra. Fuck knows that you aren’t leaving this trapped hell without a free souvenir to take home.

Right when everything makes it way onto your body, you straighten your posture and turn to face the locked door, feeling all sorts of rushes of emotions. Fear, panic, pleasure, worry, relief, all pumping at an all time high.

“Looks like you two got locked in!” The voice laughs, key clicking into the jammed lock with a rusted, silver key. And just like that, light flows into the darkened room and nearly blinds you both. Just as the light pours in, the friendly face of a young worker does the same, her thin lips spreading across her high strung cheeks, happily, looking at two people with stray hairs flying all over the place and flushed faces.

“When my boss told me she saw two people come in here on the cameras, I didn’t believe it!” The worker laughs, clacking her keys back onto her belt, “The sign must’ve fell off or something. So sorry for the inconvenience, we’ll give you both a discount for any item you purchase today!” She bows her head apologetically, “Let’s get you out of here, I’m sure you’ve been waiting for a while now, huh?”

“R-Right. Sorry, we just...we lost our way a bit, but thank you for letting us out. I was convinced I was going to die in there.” You give a half hearted chuckle, just to appear like a normal, functional person.

“No worries at all! Let’s get you two rung up if you're both ready to check out?”

You nod and start walking out, Wayne following behind you, “More than ready.”

As you two follow the worker, you notice Wayne lag a little bit behind. You stop for a second to grab his hand, securing him in his rightful spot next to you, rather than behind. He gives you a smile, to which you both share. The moment was over for sure, and hopefully there isn’t another time that would ever happen like that again. You let out a sigh of relief and Wayne notices, leaning down to say something,

“Maybe we should do it out in public more often. That was fun. Don’tcha think?”

#kaicubus #kaicubus requests #wayne #wayne series #wayne x reader #wayne mccullough #wayne imagines #wayne mccullough imagine #wayne mccullough x reader #wayne mcullough smut #wayne mccullough x y/n #fanfiction #wayne fic #wayne x you #smut #smut fic #wayne smut #smut fanfiction #x reader smut

[strange-birb]

Had to when I saw the quote lol

I love Jason sm 😂

Og post @batfam-imagines

#batfamily #batboys #batfam #jason todd #batbros #ghost rider #ghost rider Jason Todd #jason todd headcanon #jason todd angst #ghost jason todd #jasontoddasaghostrider #dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #tim drake imagine #tim drake #damian wayne imagine #damian al ghul #damian wayne #jason todd fic #jason todd fanart #jason Todd rage #angry Jason todd #tim drake angst #jasontodd #batman #incorrect batfam #red hood #red robin #dc robin #nightwing

[frownyalfred]

okay so there were a ton of posts/fics about the hilarious "fuck/maryy/kill" Bruce Wayne & Justice League scenario (I read them all, amazing comedic timing y'all) but to me, the most hilarious scenario is the JL play fuck/marry/kill, Bruce's name comes up, and half of the people in the room in the know immediately turn bright red and refuse to keep playing and no one will explain why.

Hal: "...and I would fuck Bruce Wayne. No, I would kill him. Nah, actually I'd fuck him, who am I kidding."

Clark: choking on his coffee and rapidly turning an alarming shade of red

Diana: "An....interesting choice, of course."

J'onn: "Shall we play a different game?"

Hal: "Wait, what? that was the game, wasn't it?"

Ollie: "I'm with Hal, I'd fuck the shit out of Bruce. He's the easiest guy I know, it's not like it'll exactly be a hardship for him."

*every single person in the room turns to Batman, standing in the corner*

Clark: "Wow! I think I just heard someone drop an ice cream cone in Guatemala. Batman, I'll need a team up."

Ollie: "For ice cream?"

Diana, standing up and putting herself in between Bruce and Hal: "This sounds dire. I will also assist."

Clark, under his breath, one hand on Bruce's back: "It's not worth it. He's not worth it. Come on. Walk it off."

#treadmill thoughts #bruce wayne #batman #dc #fic commentary #justice league #jl #and then like three years later #when he finally tells them #this moment comes back to hal jordan in technicolor

[adreamfromnevermore]

AU Where the Justice League forms as usual except for one slight difference where Bruce just so happens to have been the one superheroing for the longest. (Excluding Diana, who got up to it in World War 1 and then mostly didn't while she learned about Man's World)

Bruce helps form the Justice League, ignoring all of the comments as they come to the sudden realization that Gotham's baby cryptid story is actually a man in a very intimidating armored suit who can and will break your arm if you cause problems for him. They are unaware that this is not the first team he's led, and actually he's used to teams full of mostly teenagers who also happen to be his children. This should be easier, this team is primarily adults.

He realizes rapidly that he doesn't understand these people.

His kids take bonding activities to mean learning a dozen different ways to break someones leg. That doesn't fly with these people. And that is most of Bruce's ideas, hell when he was a kid Alfred took every opportunity to get him out of his room and mostly that was with the agreement that Alfred would teach him how to defend himself. He's come by it honestly.

This team is not easier. They have more drama than when his house was actually full of kids. It's insane. He doesn't know what to do with it, usually he just sent the kids to their rooms or grounded them from patrol. That doesn't work here.

He comes to a strange crossroads. That falls apart when he forgets who he's working with and snaps at Hal with a full room of heroes that the next person to throw a punch or an insult without a reason too will be sparring with him.

A long standing rule in the batcave that worked two fold to prevent infighting between the kids and too ensure that they were well and truly trained.

It works wonders. No one says a word out of line for the rest of the debrief. Bruce becomes the unofficial mediator of the league over Clark because anytime he walked in on a fight it suddenly became 10 times more civil out of sheer terror of what he'd do to them in a sparring match.

Eventually they actually meet his kids. Well, one kid.

Half way through a mission (one of the rare ones in Gotham) the Bat comes to a complete stop at the edge of an alley. Every single league member on the team comes to a stop behind him. Slowly from the shadows of the alley a man in a red helmet stalks out to greet them.

"You don't call, you don't write"

"Red Hood."

"Don't Red Hood me! We've been worried sick!"

"I was at the cave last night."

"You didn't answer my texts B. You always answer my texts."

Somehow it ends with big and scary following them through the rest of the mission with a running commentary of how much Bats has let him down in his failure to respond in a timely manner to a text send less than an hour before he ran into them in the alley. It only ends when Red Robin shows up.

And even then it only ends because Hood can't keep himself from throwing a punch and Bruce has to snap at him that if he throws another one they're sparring when they get home.

And by god is Jason giving up the chance to punch his brothers.

#the psychic whiplash when the league realizes #that the pit fight tactic is from dealing with his children #also that he has children #batman #dc #bruce wayne #red hood #jason todd #red robin #tim drake #batfamily #clark kent #justice league #superman #nightwing #timothy drake #batfam #fic ideas #wonder woman #diana prince #diana of themyscira

[yuwigqi]

HC an actual real forensic psychologist interviews Joker, and realizes he does not meet the legal requirements for being mentally unfit to stand trial (TRUE), and the jury finds he does not meet the requirements for criminal insanity (TRUE) and he is sentenced to death and just like actually successfully executed by Belle Reve Penitentiary.

Batman's official statement "I do not kill. However, I do not give formal statements in political issues, such as the death penalty. If Joker escapes, I will send him back to Belle Reve, regardless of whatever sentencing he receives. I am a Vanguard. I am not a New Jersey Apex Court Justice. Sentencing is outside my jurisdiction or personal interests. Thank you."

Orphan's statement is "I believe wholeheartedly in the sanctity of life. However, I am not opposed to euthanasia."

Red Hood gets hired as a literal Seasonal Summer Worker for Belle Reve, and stands guard.

Barbara Gordon gets hired as Belle Reve Archivist.

Duke Thomas speaks publicly about the Justice System's constant ignorance of the realities of Mental Illness, and the pathologization of acts of violence as mental illness, as well as how white men are frequently given passes for violence by the justice system.

The Joker is executed on April 1st. He is cremated, and his ashes are used in compost alongside goat and pig manure.

Dr. Harleen Quinzel is tried as well, and actually found criminally insane, and after 1 year in psychiatric hospital, and triweekly therapy, she has shown proof of improvement and rehabilitation, 2 years after that, her licensure is reinstated. Instead of going into patient practice, she does psychiatric research, and publishes several papers on the interactions of PTSD and psychotic disorders, as well as developing counseling treatments for domestic abuse and cult survivors.

"Jokes on You Day" becomes a national holiday.

#The Joker #Harley Quinn #Duke Thomas #Signal #Jason Todd #Red Hood #Bruce Wayne #Batman #Batfam #Cassandra Cain #Orphan #Black Bat #Barbara Gordon #Oracle #Genuinely long considered writing a fic on this #But I really do not want to write that much Joker dialogue lol

[imma-dragon53]

You’ve heard of “justice league doesn’t know Batman has kids”

Now prepare for “the Team doesn’t know Batman is Robins dad”

#yes there is a fic #batfam #batman #batfamily #robin #dick grayson #bruce wayne #justice league #young justice #kinda #not super hard sell on it being the Team #there’s a lot of overlap #the fic is being written as we speak #my laptop is in my lap right now #it’s already longer than both the focus incident and small victories #no surprise there though #I actually have a plot with this one

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

After Jason’s resurrection he finds that his body works… wrong somehow.

Some days he forgets to breathe until he wants to say something and finds there’s no air in lungs. Other days his body goes eerily cold until someone points out that his lips are blue and he needs to warm up.

And some days his heart stops beating in his sleeps.

It’s fine, really. It always starts again eventually a short while after he wakes up. And yeah, of course it was a bit scary the first couple times it happened but it’s not like his resurrection and Pit-dip came with an instruction manual, so this is probably pretty normal stuff, all things considered. He is kind of the definition of “undead”.

The real trouble starts when he forgets to mention those little details to the Batfamily when he stays over for the night.

#prompts #jason todd #batfamily #bruce wayne #dick grayson #batfam #tim drake #damian wayne #robin #fic #ideas #angst #nightwing #red hood #Batman #batdad #batbros #zombie Jason #sort of #side effects of being dead and then resurrected #he really should have told them about the heartbeat and breathing thing #it’s a pretty scary combo to witness

[violent138]

Stephanie: "Did you get it?"

Tim, scoffing: "Of course I did. *unwraps the vase from bubble wrap* It's the exact same, one of the three original vases made."

Stephanie: "Wait. The old one had a nick, right there on the shoulder. *uses a Batarang to recreate it* There."

Tim, setting it down carefully and smiling: "Perfect. I think we just got away with it."

Jason, reading on the couch: "He'll know."

Stephanie: "How? You'd have to--"

Alfred: "Is there anything you guys want for dinner?"

Tim and Stephanie, immediately: "No."

Alfred, frowning slightly: "Very well." He walked over, both Tim and Stephanie trying to play it cool as the butler adjusted the vase on the table.

Jason looked up from his book.

Alfred: "I'll remind you again, Master Timothy that skateboards are not permitted inside the house."

Jason cackled at the expression that Tim and Stephanie made.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Bruce: "How did you know? Technically speaking, it's the same vase."

Alfred: "I have a contact at the auction house where you bought the second one years ago."

Bruce, clearing his throat: "Yeah, Jason accidentally kicked a ball into it."

Alfred, raising an eyebrow: "He threw a Batarang at it because you wanted to make him more comfortable."

Bruce:

Alfred: "I do wish you'd all stop adding that nick back."

#A long one #might be funnier to consider these guys breaking something bigger #like burning down part of the kitchen and hastily getting it remodelled before Alfred notices #I'm bored #not a texpost not a mini fic #but a secret third option called testing my followers' patience #batposting #batfamily #tim drake #stephanie brown #jason todd #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #batman

[sully-s]

Clark: Why do I always miss the gossip missions?

#Superbat #world's finest #Clark Kent #bruce wayne #Superman #Batman #DC Comics #DCAU #Fanart #My Art #Very Messy Art #Listen it's been awhile sience I drew some blatent Superbats art I was due lol. #Shout out to all those fics where half the league is in love with Bruce.

[kaicubus]

Stains We Can’t Remove | Wayne M.

₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ───────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ─────────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊

warnings ✩° : angst no happy ending, cursing, angry wayne, trauma responses, hurt/no comfort, wayne not listening to reader, wayne’s mommy issues, spoilers kinda for the series, wayne WANTS to go after reader but doesn’t.

pairing ✩° : wayne mccullough x fem!reader

premise ✩° : wayne’s mom isn’t a perfect person, that’s pretty obvious to you and everyone around you. everyone but wayne, who gets defensive when you start to question his true place in her life after talking with her.

word count ✩° : 3.3k

authors note ✩° : this may get a part 2 but i had to leave it on a cliffhanger you know me teheh...anyways this uhm this really hurt my soul but i like doing angst no comfort until you guys come at me with knives demanding a part 2. so until then!

────────────────────────────────────────────

Maureen smelt like cigarettes.

Usually, people make an effort to mask the scent when they come back in for a short smoke break, knowing how most people find the smell revolting, dousing themselves in cheap perfume or body spray or even take off the clothes they were wearing that the smoke latched onto. But Maureen didn’t care. She didn’t even acknowledge it.

That’s just the kind of person Maureen McNulty was.

You had to admit, it bothered you seeing Wayne so attached to a mother who clearly didn’t give a damn about her son, in fact you’ve never seen anything like it before. In the short amount of time you’ve known her, you’ve seen Wayne’s mom force a smile and laugh with him like it’d been her dream to see Wayne after so long, out of the blue despite being the one to leave him since all these years. And seeing a look of hopefulness on your boyfriends face when she told him how much she missed him made something inside of you bubble with anger, knowing that all Wayne was to her was that certain stench of smoke she couldn’t be bothered getting rid of or even spare a passing glance.

Of course, you didn’t want to break Wayne’s spirits. After all, it was the first time in a long time Wayne had something else besides you to live for. He had his friend Orlando, sure, but Orlando wasn’t considered family. He was just someone Wayne bad to protect.

You fall under that category as well, but on a more intimate level. This was the first time though, that Wayne could be protected—comforted—by someone else. He could finally take shelter and relax in the arms of his mother, family he had been deprived of for so long.

But how could you relax seeing all the false, squinted smiles that told lies of ‘i love you’ and ‘i want you to stay here forever’, even taking it as far as showing him baby pictures of himself that Maureen had conveniently kept but ‘accidentally’ hidden away.

It didn’t help that you had overheard Maureen one day talking to her husband, who seemed to be frustrated with the sudden two additions in his household. You could hear the way his loud, angry voice, echoed throughout the halls and since it was only you three home and Wayne and Reggie were out ‘bonding’, you heard everything very clearly.

You almost wish you didn’t.

“Ok! Fine! You know what! Yeah, he’s a little annoying and clingy and following me around everywhere, but he was like that when he was a kid! Give him a damn break!” You heard her say, followed by a large clattering noise from her husband knocking his fist into the wall causing a painting to tumble down.

“I don’t care if you think he’s your little fuckin’ baby, Maureen! He’s not my son and I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea! I want him out of my house as soon as possible, otherwise I’m just going to throw him on the street along with his skanky girlfriend too!”

“Don’t you call my son’s girlfriend a skank!” You liked that she defended you, “But, you’re right. I can’t have my past follow me around like some puppy dog. It’s not right. I just…give me time to break the news to him gently. I’ll tell him to back his bags. He’ll be gone real soon, babe.”

And that was it. Then Wayne and Reggie came home and Maureen pretended to act normal again, flying above Wayne’s radar and tricking him into thinking he can stay with his mom. It didn’t even matter if Maureen opened her arms to both you and Wayne and let you both inside of her home, because to you, it didn’t matter at all if all she was going to do was go back on her word and make you guys leave, breaking Wayne’s heart all over again. What also hurt was that Maureen was nothing like Wayne; She was actually fun, well spirited, unlike Wayne who barley spoke two words to her when he saw her again, while she spoke novels. It was interesting seeing the two interact, but it didn’t change the fact that none of it was real.

You just had to tell him what he failed to see. And you were going to do it tonight.

When the time came, you could hardly ignore the rapid beating pounding inside of your chest. The whole time you stood there, waiting for everyone to go outside or leave the house was spent pondering over every single thought in your head, debating on if this was truly a good idea and rehearsing what you wanted to say to him. Telling Wayne straight up that his mom didn’t love him and actually just wanted him out was completely out of the picture, so you had to lay it down slowly and sugar coat the hell out of it and pray he’d understand.

When everyone finally leaves, Maureen’s husband outside in their garage, Reggie out with friends, and Maureen smoking a pack outside by a bonfire, you tug your boyfriend back into the dining room and sit him down across from you. Wayne, who appears to be already over the moon from having a private conversation with you, smiles curiously at what you have to say, batting his eyes at you curiously when you just stare at him saying nothing.

“Wayne I have to tell you something.” You start off easy, folding your hands onto the table and looking anywhere but his eyes, “It’s...it’s kind of hard for me to do this, but. I think I should really tell you.”

Wayne’s eyes don’t leave yours for a second, giving you his full attention with that same hopeful smile he’s had all week. That only makes it harder for you to get your words out, and unfortunately, they do.

“Wayne, I don’t think your mom is who she says she is.” You hold onto your thighs and look up at your boyfriend through your lashes.

It takes a moment for him to process the statement in his head, but it doesn’t register. He looks up with a confused expression, with one of his eyebrows arched and squinted eyes, “She’s not my mom?”

“No, Wayne, she is your mom,” You laugh a bit, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders with his innocent question, “But I don’t think she’s as…perfect, or even motherly like you think she is. I mean, you’ve seen how she raised Reggie.”

“Reggie has a shit father, Y/n, I’d blame that more on him than my mom.” Wayne points out, “And yeah, my mom’s not going to be perfect, no moms are. But, she’s trying her hardest, and I got to see her, so I think that’s good.”

He wasn’t getting it.

You let out a short sigh and scoot closer to him, gently moving your hand to the center of the table where you could comfortably meet halfway and hold his hands. “Wayne, It’s not about her being a good mom or not.” You say gently, “It’s more about her not...wanting to be a mom to you.”

“That’s crazy, Y/n. I’m her son. I was here first. That don’t make no sense.” Wayne shakes his head and laughs under his breath.

“I know, I know baby. But I heard her talking, when you and Reggie were out. She was in the other room, and well,” Your shoulders fall, “She said she didn’t...she didn’t think it was a wise decision to keep past...personal assets in her...new life...” That was the best way you could put such horrible news. In a way, you understood the feelings Wayne must be going through; No child would want to be told from someone that their mom was talking shit behind their back, especially when that mom left them when they were just a kid and left no explanation saying why or even bothering to leave behind some lame excuse. To your knowledge, Maureen never told Wayne she was going to grab some milk and be right back, instead she just left one day and never returned.

The more you tried to spell it out for him though, the more confused he got. You were already dancing around the issue and trying to sugar coat it as best as you could, but his expression tells it all: he has no clue of what you’re trying to say. Wayne wrinkles his brows in utter confusion and stares at you, his smile fading away the more you stammer on.

“Look, Wayne. When you were gone, I heard her talking to her husband, he was all mad and whatever that we were staying here.”

“So? We’ll just move near by, my mom probably knows a place we can crash and we’d be out of his hair.”

Your back stiffens, “N-No, Wayne, he doesn’t want us—you—here, period. I’m not family, and I’ll have to go back some time. He knows that, and so do you. But I’m talking about you and your mom.”

Wayne re-positions his hands separately from yours and clasps them together tightly, rubbing his calloused thumbs over each other in thought. “What, uh. What else did he say?” His watchful eyes crawl back up to yours.

“He said that you’re not his son, and your mom agreed, and therefore he doesn’t want you in his house.” You look down nervously. If there was one thing you knew about Wayne, it would be that he talks a lot, just not in words. When Wayne holds a conversation, he doesn’t speak all too much, instead he pays attention to the person talking, mimicking their movements, and using body language to talk—hands to express his levels of comfort, eye contact to silently communicate, and his posture to dictate his attention—you can tell what he’s thinking just by looking at him. The body tells a lot of secrets the mouth won’t, but it was no secret that Wayne hated this conversation.

He hated everything about thinking his mom isn’t who she says she is or how his 5-year old mind remembers her. Instead of the woman who brought him toys and taught him how to read and decipher shapes, who cooked him and his father meals especially warm tomato soup on rainy days, your words were practically shredding that woman down to someone who doesn’t care one bit about him, who would and did leave him because she couldn’t care less. But Wayne tries his best not to show it all too much.

“What else?” He drums his fingers on top of the table and glances down too.

“She told him, she doesn’t want her past following her around like some...” Your lip curls, knowing what’s coming next would utterly destroy him, “...some sad puppy dog.” and it does.

Wayne feels your shoe turn and nudge him when he goes silent for too long, his body voided of any kind of language and instead replaced by nothing at all, but he doesn’t react. How could his own mother, he thought, think of him as some helpless dog when he did everything to hell and back to try and find something so dear to him? He rolls his head forward and allows the shadows of the flickering light above trace over his nose and forehead.

“Wayne..?” You say softly, softer than you ever have before. You fear that the slightest bit of volume could send him destroying everything around him, knowing that’s all he wants to do right now. The static in Wayne’s mind suddenly starts to fizz, jumping from a background noise right to all he can hear. The sound fills his ears and it fills his ears fast, leaving him no time to think.

“No.” Wayne shakes his head, “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/n. My mom wouldn’t do that to me, she wouldn’t say that to nobody. Not her kid, especially not me. She wouldn’t compare me to no dog. Why’d you say that..?”

Suddenly, your words were stolen from you. Was he really shifting the blame onto you? There was some misunderstanding. “No, that’s not it,” You lurch forward and try to catch his wrists to assure him you’re telling the truth, but he rips them away from you before you get the chance, “Wayne, I’m not lying to you. I heard how she talked about you.”

“Yeah, well clearly you didn’t hear right!” Wayne shouts. His abrupt change in tone makes you jump right back into your seat, eyes wide from how easy it was to yell at you, and it even shakes the table. Or maybe that was because of how hard he was gripping it in that moment. Still, you look at Wayne in shock, fear, and some lingering taste in the back of your tongue of anger.

“What are you talking about?! Wayne, I heard her say that shit! Why would I fucking lie about that?”

Wayne shrugs harshly, “I dunno, maybe you wanna like, split us up or somethin’? I don’t know! I do know that my mom wouldn’t call me a damn dog, following her around.”

“You might not want to believe it, but that’s what she said. I’m saving you from a whole world of pain, Wayne. Imagine if she was the one to tell you? You’d believe her since it was coming out of her mouth, so why is it so different when I tell you out of mine?!” His words hit you like a truck right into your chest. You wanted to defend yourself and explain to him that the truth was evident, but Wayne just keeps shoving.

“You don’t know my mom, ok?”

“And you do?! You didn’t even know why she left you until she came up with some lame excuse so you wouldn’t keep pressing her for answers!”

Wayne stands up and balls his fists tightly. If there was anything distracting himself from the pain splitting his heart in two, it was the biting sensation of his nails digging crescents into his already scarred palm. “What? You think you know her just by lookin’ at her? You’ve only known her for a couple days, but I’ve been here with her, in a photo album or a wallet—she knows about me! She understands me, and I’m happy to be here with her. Why is that so hard for you to understand, Y/n?”

There’s a pause, a moments of hesitation, before you speak. In that moment, you stare at the way Wayne’s chest falls heavily, heaving with guilt and burden, knowing as much as his anger consumes him, the last thing he wants to do is yell at you. Your eyes flicker away from his for a second, catching a glimpse of all the photos and picture frames hanging on the walls of Maureen, her husband, and Reggie. Reggie’s baby pictures, her and her husband out on an anniversary date wrangling gators, Reggie grinning ear to ear holding up a gold club and soon after, a beer. Your eyes scan over all the memories this family has where they seem so well put together, one would even say, happy and loving.

Maureen was there, sure, displaying her crafts and small businesses she’s worked on over the years, and her husband was always in a picture with his eyes red because of the flash and holding something up to show, and then there was Reggie. There was nothing of Wayne. Not even a small picture on the fridge.

Wayne said that his photos were locked away, secret, but all that told you was that Maureen was ashamed of her past, and even more ashamed of him. If Wayne failed to see that, there was nothing more you could do. You had already lost to her.

Maybe you’d wish you hadn’t brought it up, or somehow made Maureen tell him himself so this didn’t make you seem like a liar trying to tear Wayne apart from his mom. You only wanted to let him know. Your eyes return back to him, and shamefully, you give him a half-hearted smile. “What I understand, Wayne, is that she’s not ready to be your mother. And frankly, I don’t think she ever was, and that’s why she left you. You’re holding onto something that doesn’t want to be held onto.”

Wayne falls silent. “Then I don’t think I want to be the one to hold onto you anymore.”

Your head flips back up, your brows furrowing. Now more than ever, it felt like your world seemed to shatter right beneath your feet. Those few words stung like burning needles stabbing right into your gut as the wind in your lungs struggles to escape, leaving your chest constricted and heart fully broken beyond repair.

You wanted to have misheard. You wanted him to regret what he said and quickly apologize. Like he always does, he always fixes it. But this time, Wayne doesn’t even turn his head up to look at you. Instead he keeps his eyes fixated on his hands, mindlessly picking at the skin around his nails.

You swallow, hard, and attempt to speak, but nothing comes out. You try to open your mouth more, but it snaps shut. There’s nothing you can say or do that will change his mind, so what was even worth defending? Your dignity was long gone when you first sat down with him, and it feels like there’s no love for you inside of Wayne’s heart, but you still hold on the best you can.

Even your strength can’t hold back the tears that eventually spill from your eyes though, and soon enough, streams of hot tears come barreling down the sides of your face, seemingly endlessly. You bring your sleeve up to your face and start hastily dabbing away your tears, blotting softly at first but quickly bashing your fists into your eyes to get them to stop.

Wayne’s ears perk up when he hears you sniffle, but he doesn’t look over. Even when he doesn’t speak, he still says a lot, and his silence was all you needed to realize that Wayne McCullough had chosen who he wants to be around and to spend his time with, and that person was not you.

Even if it meant leaving you behind, Wayne’s mind was set. He couldn’t change the past, but he was hopeful for the future, and if there was any ounce of changing that, then Wayne held on. It just meant that you were something that he couldn’t keep as well.

Despite everything, Wayne doesn’t bother looking up, he doesn’t even spare a passing glance. He ignores you. He ignores the tears now rushing from your eyes and spilling onto the only clothes you had on your back. He ignores all of those times where you’d saved him and he’d saved you, running from the cops and any authoritative figure to escape into a fleeting feeling of freedom. He doesn’t even acknowledge it.

He doesn’t have to tell you what to do next. Him not looking at you was more than he needed to say, and before you knew it, your bag filled with missing things was over your shoulder, and you, halfway out the door. Wayne still remains in the same position, back turned to where you had left him, only now he was facing you as you left. Dark eyes stick onto your teary-eyed expression like magnets stuck to their piece, but no words are exchanged.

For a moment, you see his hands twitch from his sides, but he stops moving all together. Now you were certain. If you left or not, Wayne would still go back to his mom. Even if she had left him all those years ago, she was stuck to him and he didn’t want to get rid of her or even see how much she’s hurting him.

In the end, you couldn’t change his mind after all. 

#kaicubus #kaicubus requests #wayne #wayne series #wayne x reader #wayne mccullough #wayne imagines #wayne mccullough imagine #wayne mccullough x reader #wayne mccullough x y/n #wayne mccullough fanfiction #wayne mccullough x you #wayne fanfiction #wayne fic #fanfiction #angst #wayne mccullough fanfic #wayne angst #angst no happy ending #angst no comfort

[ky-landfill]

#batman #jason todd #bruce wayne #accidential orphan acquisition #baby jason #too many fics of this nature to rec just one #maybe ooc / too damsely for Jay but whatever!

[redrosebug]

I think it would be very funny if the Batfam and Tim had two drastically different reactions to the Teen Titans Incident.

Like Bruce is super concerned about Tim's safety, and Dick is tearing himself apart because on one hand, the perpetrator is his little brother and Dick remembers him as tiny little Jason who loves classic stories and on the other hand, his new little brother has just been brutalized and possibly traumatized. Jason pretends that he is okay with having beaten up a child, but he is drowning in guilt and can barely look Tim in the eye.

Meanwhile, Tim just... does not care. It was literally another Wednesday for him. He is so delusional, he looks at the Red Hood and thinks "Yeah, I can take him." There is no fear in those eyes, just revenge.

#tim drake #red robin #robin #batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #dc #headcanon #fic idea #batfam #batbros

[frownyalfred]

"I'm gonna fuck your mom" "I'm going to get my adoptive billionaire dad to sleep with both of your parents and they're both going to fall in love with him and write you out of their will, fuckhead."

(Schoolyard threat from an unknown Wayne child, provided to the Gazette in March 2013. Bruce Wayne, responding via email, denied all allegations of an improper relationship and declared it "entirely spontaneous and consensual."

Mr. and Mrs. [redacted] could not be reached for comment, but court records indicate that Mr. [redacted] began divorce proceedings in April of 2013.)

#clearing out drafts #I think I wrote this while I took that one edible #it made sense at the time I think #bruce wayne #batman #dc #micro fic #batfamily #batdad #idk which batkid said this but #it was not an idle threat

[maskofredacted]

Batman AU where the batfam is an extension of Gotham’s will so they can’t leave the city without taking a piece of it with them

Bruce, ever practical, has a batarang made from a steel piece off the bat signal (not that he’d be able to throw it but it’s a backup nonetheless)

Dick, Jay, and Tim have made it Robin tradition to carry pebbles in their pockets (the justice league has come to associate the soft jingling of rocks with the arrival of the Dark Knight)

Steph finds pretty rocks and quartz to crack open and share with Cassandra- and they cycle through their newest finds (cass does keep a shiny piece of obsidian in her utility belt, it was the first one Steph gave her)

Duke keeps a corner from a road sign in his pouch, the reflective yellow paint matches his theme- (what better representation of the city than perpetual construction)

Damian reverently carries a piece of deep green sea glass from the harbor. The color reminds him of his mother, and he finds the beauty fitting. (The irony that the only way for him to leave his new home is an echo of the reason he’s there in the first place is not lost on him.)

EDIT: LOOK AT THE REBLOGGED VERSION WITH MORE CONTENT ITS WORTH IT I SWEAR

#don’t mind me I’m just rambling #feel ​free to add on too! #I kind of wanna write a fic for this tho #gothambound au #batfam #batfamily #Batman #Bruce Wayne #dick Grayson #Jason Todd #Tim drake #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #Duke Thomas #damian wayne #writing #meow

[theaceofarrows]

Welcome to the family

[Dick on the phone with Wally, while walking up the manors driveway]

Dick: I still can't believe that he got another kid! I'm gone for a few weeks, and suddenly, he gets empty nest syndrome, unbelievable

Wally: Yeah, definitely didn't see that one coming. So, have you met the kid yet?

Dick: [groans] I'm about to, not that I'm overly thrilled about this

Wally: I get it, dude. Just make sure not to take it out on the kid too much

Dick: Yeah, yeah, I'm not going to be a complete jerk. After all this mess isn't the kids fault

Dick: Ugh, I just hope this kid doesn't act like Bruce hung the starts or something-

Dick: [opens the front door]

Jason: -you really like the Frankenstein movie more than the book?! B, how STUPID can you be?!

Wally: [still on the other end of the line] What was that?

Dick: ...I'm gonna have to call you back, Wally

-

[Later]

Dick: [holding back laughter] And then, after he threw the tire iron he said- he said "Try and catch me you big boob!"

Wally: No way! He did not say that to Batman!

Dick: HE DID!

[hysterically laughing]

#dick grayson #wally west #jason todd #bruce wayne #incorrect batfamily quotes #batbros #batboys #batfamily #batfam #robin jason todd #this is cannon now #i thought about turning this into a fic but i don't have the energy #if anyone else wants to fine with me

[ktkat99]

Angst/humor fic idea, if you need a prompt:

Bruce finds out the hard way which of his kids is okay with the 'unadoption' joke threats he makes when they annoy or stress him out. "Why did I adopt you?"..."I still have your adoption certificate. I wonder if the orphanage accepts returns?"..."I knew I should have left you on that street corner where I found you."

Dick fires back with twice as much sass, sometimes rolling his eyes and flipping off Bruce when he gets older.

Young!Jason looks so scared the first time he hears one, and Bruce never jokes about it again. Adult!Jason makes jokes about unadopting himself.

Tim is far too tired to register that it was a joke and gets quiet and avoids Bruce completely for the rest of the week until Bruce realizes what he did wrong and tracks his son down. They talk and Bruce never implies regretting to adopt Tim again.

Cass laughs along with him before pulling out her adoption certificate from her pocket and grinning, scaring him. His kids's adoption paperwork was all stored in a hidden, impenetrable, designed-by-Batman safe. Laughter fades and she just whispers "You'll never be rid of me."

Bruce- Maybe Talia wants you back.

Damian, not even phased- And maybe Alfred would have rather been working for a doctor than a clown-hating, nocturnal, combat furry, but I guess we're both out here disappointing our parents.

#batman #tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #red robin #nightwing #red hood #damian wayne #robin #cassandra cain #orphan #batfam incorrect quotes #batfam #batfamily #angst #humor #fic ideas #writing prompts