Batman: Crime is abnormaly quiet today, one more round and we should go home, chum.
Robin (Jason): A-Okay. I may even have time to read a bit before going to bed.
Batman: I'll think about it.
Robin: We could go to Bat Burguer! Di-Nightwing said they have an amazing chocolate milkshake.
Batman: I don't know, Robin...
Robin: I'm sure they have banana milkshake as well or something fruity.
Batman: Hm
Robin: I knew it!
Batman: Hm??
Robin: You are a fruit bat.
Batman: what?
Robin: I was reading a book about animals and they say that of the 1200 known species of bats only three are vampire bats. You are too normal to be a vampire bat. Also vampire bats are smaller and you are very big and vampire bats move solo and while you like to prented to be moody and lonley you have me, Agent A, Batgirl and Nightwing and that just in Gotham. So you are a fruit bat. And you love fruity things.
Batman: *smilling* I suppose.
Robin: And that means we are going to drink the milkshakes because you can't refuse fruit things!
Batman: Because I'm a fruit bat.
Robin: Yeah!!
----- [somewhere in the future] ----
Robin (Damain): I'm the son of Batman, I'll drink your blood, Hood.
Red Hood: Nah, B's totally a fruit bat and as the "blood son" that just means you like banana milkshake, sorry demon brat.
Batman: *in the background, accidentaly listens* *happy hm*
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Prompt 124
Bruce crouched next to the small child that had been bounding around for the last few months healing people, watching idly as they scribbled on a paper with quiet chirps. Spirit, the rest of Gotham had named them, Spirit and their Sister.
“Hi Mr. Bat!” The child beamed from behind the mask when they finally looked up, burn scar stretching slightly.
He ignored the gibbering man in the corner, at least for now, seeing as he’d just arrived. “Is your sister around?” The other, well he wouldn’t call them vigilantes seeing as the kids (He’d be surprised if Sister was an adult) focused more on evacuation or healing, but it was the closest word.
“Nope!” the child put their crayons away in one of the many pockets inside the almost victorian-styled coat, one of the reasons they’d gotten their name. “Uncle Kerian is watchin’ me tonight, ‘cause Sister is busy.”
“Uncle?”
“Uncle!”
Bruce could be forgiven for the startled wheeze when the literal shadows twisted and ripped, a pair of Lazarus-green eyes- or whatever they were- gleaming from the darkness, dark hair twisting as sharp teeth similar to the siblings’ were bared in very open warning. As if the giant flaming sword wasn’t enough of a warning already.
Ah. That’s who had traumatized the several would-be kidnappers then.
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Other than it being bad, the ending of superantural has also fucked up my relationship to destiel fic because the only thing I wanna read now is widower era dean with cas coming back from the empty years after he died
There's just something so captivating about the idea of dean only figuring out cas was the love of his life and already functionally his partner after he dies and taking up a widower role in a new community with people who never knew any different.
and cas coming back only to realize that dean's whole perception of reality has shifted in the time he's been gone
I could chew on this premise forever
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it was a nice boop. all the boops had been nice. there had been rather more than seven of them so far, and boop hadn’t been invented yet. but boops massing east of boop suggested that the first boopstorm was on its way, and it was going to be a big boop.
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i like to think my coral island farmer (who is just me, but likes the outdoors) shows up late one night at the museum with like five wriggling fish in her arms and scott is just like
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