#robin fic

[river-bottom-nightmare]

the two of the had always treated it as one big joke, was the thing. bruce and dick would put on a show together: a stumbling, overly-friendly yet well-intentioned gatsby and his young ward with a sweet tongue and an artful smile. laugh a little too loud, bat the eyes, play up the youth, and they had gotham eating out of their palms. it was fun, a punchline only the two of them were ever in on.

"that was a good one," bruce said, voice warm, deftly removing his cufflinks. "the bit with mrs. arlington's cosmetic surgery was particularly inspired."

"i thought so!" dick chirped back. his suit jacket was already draped over a chair in the sitting room, shoes flung off. "i mean, what could i possibly know about the divorce rumors."

bruce hummed in amused agreement. "i always forget how tiring brucie wayne is to play, though," he said. "for someone who doesn't exist, he's quite the effort."

right then, though, a quiet ripple of alarm went through dick. "wait, what do you mean brucie doesn't exist? what do you mean he's an effort?"

"i mean he's not...he's not real, dick. you know this." bruce shot him a confused glance. "he's a fiction i have to endure on occasion. having you there does make the theatre much more bearable, though."

"of cource brucie wayne is real. he's you!"

bruce was staring at him now, the tired comfort from a successful night wiped from his face. he was just confused, and more than a little concerned. heart on his cheek , always, helplessly (to dick, anyway). "it's just a performance, dick. it doesn't mean anything. you are well aware—"

but dick cut him off, shaking his head. "nothing is ever just a performance, b. that's not what performance is!"

and it killed him, gutted him that bruce didn't understand this, that he had failed to grasp 'brucie wayne' was poetic, was almost victorian, was a masterclass in crafting a mask around a kernel of truth. was the kind of murder you watched a play just to revel in at the end.

"i don't see how it isn't," bruce said, speaking very carefully. "the version of bruce wayne the public sees is a persona. his very existence is to perform the function of deceit."

"deceit?" dick said incredulously, almost laughing with it. "performing isn't deceit, bruce. and that's not what you're doing either." he jabbed a finger in bruce's general direction. "you way overplay how harmless brucie is, but you're not hardline serious all the time. with me and with other kids you meet on patrol, you're gentle."

"that isn't—"

dick kept steamrolling over him. "and sure, brucie is ridiculous sometimes. but you didn't pull that silliness out of thin air, did you? no, because you're playful with me and alfred."

"how i behave with you and alfred isn't a performance though, dick," bruce explained. "that's simply...well. that's who i am when i'm not pretending to be someone else."

"that's what you're missing, b. a performance isn't you pretending to be someone else. you're exaggerating certain parts of yourself like crazy, but at the heart of it all, you're still you."

"why does this affect you so much?" bruce asked. "you're hurting." you're hurting because of me, went unsaid. it wasn't an apology, but it was the closest dick was going to get.

"because brucie is bruce in all the ways that matter, and bruce is my best friend," dick said simply. "don't you dare tell me my best friend doesn't exist!"

bruce was still tense, though. like his heart was a step behind his head, like was a dandelion seed and the wind was unsure. so dick did what he should have done at the beginning of his whole ordeal: went over to him and looped his arms over his waist in a hug, as high as they would go.

"performing is a little tiring, but like batman is," dick mumbled into bruce's shirt. "it isn't a chore you gotta get through. it's an art, and you should have fun with it! because every show you put on is you basically just exaggerating different parts of yourself. you're not creating anyone new."

bruce reached down to hug dick in return, holding him close and sure, strength and sinew and sharing it all. "dick," he said honestly, "that sounds exhausting."

"yeah. but it's worth it," dick said in return. "you always perform for a reason. brucie exists 'cause you want to help people."

"i suppose that desire's real enough," bruce said, gentle. "in that case, thank you."

"for what?"

"for being my best friend, no matter the performance."

---

hahaha noooo being a performer from a young age hasn't impacted me or dick in any way at all we've got a perfectly normal relationship with performance i promise

anyway look guys!!! i wrote a thing!!! first time in forever idk my writing's rusty but i hope yall like it regardless. lmk if i should pop the taglist back in here i'm pretty sure half the people on that thing forgot i existed

#scribbles from the swamp #dick grayson #bruce wayne #batman #robin #dc #dick grayson fic #bruce wayne fic #batman fic #robin fic #dc fic #long post

[gravedigginbbydoll]

WELCOME TO HAWKINS UNIVERSITY

The College Sweethearts Saga (+18)

Semester One starts Aug. 7th.

Deep in Indiana, lying in a small town, is a small public University known for affordable education and top tier students. Ranked Number One in the state for Music Education and Production, boasting an award winning group of athletic teams, and focused on the success and passion of its student’s, it’s not hard to see why many students make Hawkins their home. 

Perhaps music is your calling, where you may find students such as Eddie Munson succeeding in performances and working the center desk at the Student Union. Just be careful, he may drop out if his professor gives him another C. Perhaps he should focus more on his production classes rather than his…physical pleasure.

Maybe Linguistics is more your calling, with the ever studious and lovable Robin Buckley, who you can spot in the Campus Café, whipping up the latest caffeinated concoctions and consistently slipping on the spilled coffee. Don’t worry, she’s used to it. (Plus it’s better than her second job at the movie theater, where she finds mysterious…substances…in the seats towards the back. Or even her third job as an RA. She's tired to the bone.)

It’s possible that Sports Medicine speaks to you, where you may run into the dashing (and slightly dorky) Steve Harrington. He’s often spotted at the Sports and Recreation Center, manning the front desk and teaching swimming classes. He’s ever studious and a bit of a worrywart, but also can be spotted (failing) on the Basketball court on game nights! 

And maybe, as fate may have it, you will meet them without those majors while discovering yourself. Who’s to say? 

You take your pick. 

Semester One: The Munson Edition

Semester Two: The Harrington Edition

Summer One: The Buckley Edition

For my lovelies: @xxhellfiregirlxx @ghost-proofbaby @eddies-house

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #stranger things 4 #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson au #eddie munson angst #stranger things au #modern! eddie munson #modern! steve harrington #modern! robin buckley #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley #robin smut #robin fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #platonic stobin

[solisaureus]

new solangelo fic is posted!! just a short and sweet first kiss, inspired by this adorable fanart by @deepinfatuation !!!

#robin fic #solangelo #rrverse #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo fic

[babygorewhore]

Yup. I’m gonna write Spidey Robin smut. For my wife @reidsbtch

#personal #Robin fic #robin buckley

[the-inkwell-variable]

whoops i was inspired again

"I was never good at this sort of thing." + They had never talked about what they are to each other, but when Civilian gets kidnapped by the Villain for being the Hero's girl/boyfriend, it's the perfect opportunity to talk about it.

Prompts by @soprompt and @creativepromptsforwriting! Thank you so much for inspiring me to write this little drabble!

The bodies of Black Mask's mooks lay scattered among the desks and overturned chairs, all groaning in a soft chorus of their regret and Robin's vengeful satisfaction.  But his attention wasn't on the defeated goons – it was on the girl in the chair.  He'd recognize those bubblegum space buns anywhere, even if the face below them was caked in blood and bruises.

He stepped over the body at his feet and behind the chair.  The adrenaline of the fight was wearing off – his hands shook as he untied her wrists, fingers slipping on the slick silk tie.

The moment she was free, Kia slumped forward to rest her elbows on her knees.  She rubbed her wrist with the opposing hand.  As soon as Robin stepped in front of her, she lifted her hand to sign ‘thank you’ and shot him a tight-lipped smile twisted with pain and grief.

Wait – signed?

Sure enough, something crunched under his feet.  Something vividly crimson and definitely missing from her ears – a set of hearing aids at least a decade old, now useless.  He winced sympathetically, but there was nothing for it now.  She was alive.  That mattered most.

After Robin called it in to the GCPD, they stayed together in silence for a time, Kia in her chair, he on one knee before her.   Normally, he enjoyed quiet time with Kia.  It was a peaceful respite from the chaos of Gotham, but this… he hated this.  There was so much he ached to say to this girl who was so much more than his best friend.  So much he couldn't say for her own safety.

But how safe was she, really?  Black Mask had already written her off.  As long as she kept working for men like him, she was in constant danger – including from Batman.  From the very same cops on their way to help her now.

Maybe he could say a little bit.  A single sentence.  What better time than this?  She couldn't hear him, so his words wouldn't put her in any danger, and if he messed it up, he would bathe in awkwardness alone.  It couldn't be that bad, right?

Robin cleared his throat.  “I, uh, was never good at this sort of thing.”  His fists clenched and unclenched before him.  Kia's amber eyes rose to his, almost as if she could hear him – but she couldn't.  … right?  No, he was just being paranoid.  He swallowed against a desert-dry throat to gather his nerves and met her gaze.

But the words didn't come.  He couldn't think of a single way to tell her the truth.  Robin stared into her expectant eyes.  He listened to his heart galloping against his ribcage and his blood pounding in his ears.  Without thinking, he reached out to brush a sweaty curl out of her face.  His palm tingled electric at even that simple touch.  She smiled at him again, this time soft and hopeful, and he realized like a sinking stone that he could never tell her.  She meant too much to risk losing.

Robin left as soon as the cops showed up.  He grappled through the open window to the nearby rooftop.  She's in good hands, he reasoned as he watched the paramedics help her onto a gurney – so why was he watching them like a hawk?  Why was his heart still racing?

Kia waved at him as they loaded her into the ambulance.  He smiled and lifted his hand in a brief wave of his own. 

The hand on his shoulder didn't surprise him at all, nor did the quiet, gruff voice behind him.  “Looks like we need to have a talk, Robin.”

“Yeah.”  Robin let out a shaky breath.  “Looks like we do.”

#talia writes #writeblr drabble #writeblr #batman fic #robin fic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x oc #im not so good at writing romance x.x #but i kinda like this #i hope i captured the pining well

[flowerflamestars]

Migration Patterns snippet

Long before Elle was curious enough to go looking, old candle wax the strongest smell in the musty, airless space. Years of it populated the floor, spilled from broken votives, saints peeling faces newer and brighter the further you walked.

Elle breathed it in. Dust and the dead, grave dirt in her mouth just half a dream away.   People left all kinds of things. Notes and lights, messages written on the walls.   Until the very end of the tunnel, bricked over, where someone had painted a boy from Crime Alley, swinging up out of the gloom as though by magic.   “Hey baby Jay,” Elle whispered, palm pressed to edge of a lovingly rendered yellow cape. They’d gotten the shape wrong, but not the size. Too large, bright as traffic light, so heavy, in passing faded memory. “Anyone tell you lately that you grew up right?”   Jason’s kindness that felt so, so safe- nearly impossible to turn down- nearly goddamn impossible to turn away from, even when she knew it was the right thing to do.   For now.   She’d had years and years. To mourn this Jason, Gotham’s own and gone much too soon. Years to know he was alive, he was out there, that soulmates did not meet until it was time- what the fuck was the point of time if you’d already met?   Car keys in her hand. Jason, who’d disappeared without a word and would again, fear like the taste of blood polluting so much sugared heat in her mouth.   Jason, steadfastly trying to find a single offering she’d take- when all Elle had to really go on were the lines he’d drawn, and some strange hope for a someday that was so clearly not today.   “Warden.”   His voice came out of the dark, body to follow. Gotham’s original ghost, haunting his own past, stepping soundless out of the deep shadows to come up on Elle’s right.   She watched as he crouched. Bruce, head ducked, gently rearranging to offerings laid at his dead son’s feet, room left for the half-crushed marigold he pulled from his utility belt. An undented batarang. Three pocket Shakespeares.

Batman was the only one who left books at the wall for Robin, Elle had learned over the years.   It didn’t matter that the street kids stole them. It was, probably, half the reason he always came with more.   He relit every candle that had gone out, before standing.

“I wonder,” Bruce said, slowly, eyes forward, eerie in the flickering light, “If you might reconsider my offer.”

#Gotham mourned the shit out of a dead Robin! #I'm fully convinced of this #he was THEIRS #so much more than the others #Elle having a night #a time #Batman: hey so remember when I found you? #and asked you if you wanted TO BE A VIGILANTE? #the Bruce logic is like: #well Elle IS in danger #she is a part of this family #I can give her the tools to be safer #(I couldn't keep Jason safe. I will never fail another child. I will never fail him again) #Elle meanwhile thinking about the Robin cape she has shoved in a closet in new york: B? #B? Get fucked #it was correctly predicted this is the sad chapter #it had to be! #there was no way it was going to be easy #robin fic #Migration Patterns of Turdidae

[lazylittledragon]

if i had a nickel for every au spawned from twitter that i SWORE i was going to be normal about

#i'd have like. five. which isn't a lot but IT KEEPS HAPPENING #stranger things #platonic stobin #steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #here we go again boys #i've had this floating in my head for a Minute and i was like #nah i'm not gonna do it #maybe i'll anonymously write a fic #but no we're mombin posting on main #i think on twt we agreed it's a 'what's the worst that could happen' situation #platonic co parents can be so so so personal #also i have One more stobin wip and then bg3 again i swear #when i have a baby i Will be putting my giant black wings on beforehand #they have to know what kind of family they're coming into #cw pregnancy

[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

[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

[river-bottom-nightmare]

here's the thing: the average temperature for gotham is 60 degrees fahrenheit. in the summer, it can fight its way up to 80 degrees, chip-nailed and vicious, but more often than not, it contents to float around 40 degrees.

every time superboy flies into gotham, pointed feet landing on the paved rooftop without a sound, eyes fixed on robin and robin only, he's hit with a wave of cold immediately. shoulders hunched in his patched leather jacket, hands curled into his fingerless gloves, a tremble rocking through his muscled frame as he bounces over to robin's side. he's shivering, and he isn't supposed to be in gotham, but superboy has a habit of breaking a couple rules for robin.

"i thought you were supposed to be half superman, right superboy?" robin says. superboy wouldn't be able to see his raised eyebrow under his domino, lead-lined as it was, but it was the principle of the thing, really.

superboy shoulder-checks robin lightly, and it's like a burning hearth, like smoke curling up from his lips. robin rocks backward to keep from leaning into him "shut up. i get power from the sun, i know you know that, and you can't see shit in gotham." robin just snickers at superboy's outrage, then at the other boy's dirty look, nots very gravely as he gestures to continue.

"besides," kon says, suddenly seeming off-kilter, a whisper, a fraction more awkward, "it's just kon right now. not superboy." his eyes bore into robin's white lenses, bright blue and too electric to be human, wanting to carve away robin's mask, wanting to find a way to sync his brain with robin's, wanting robin to feel safe enough to ask him for it.

(robin, with oil-painted shame, is inching towards feeling safe enough to ask him for it.)

"not superboy, huh?"

"i'm off-duty."

robin raises his second eyebrow, then slides down to dangle his legs off the side of the building. he kicks a few pebbles loose, and tracks them as they plunge into the boundless shadows of gotham city "are you ever really on-duty? kon?"

"i'll have you know," kon says, sitting down beside him, "that hawai'i public radio ranked me as their third top favourite superhero. professional superhero, that is."

"you'd think that you'd be first, considering you used to live there and all."

"shut up."

robin just laughs.

here's the thing: it's cold in gotham. it's cold and wet and rainy, miserable more often than not. it's a lighthouse, and the sea is angry and there are no ships in sight. kon flew here straight from a golden kansas home, hair seeped in sunlight, skin buzzing with heat.

so when he shuffles over, robin can't help but lean into him, basking in the light. when kon slings an arm around robin's shoulders, robin can't help but burrow into kon's side, leeching the heat off the crook of his neck. when kon's heavy fingers drift along robin's neck and tilt his head up, asking for permission, robin can't help but lean up to kiss the heat right off kon's lips. he was warm, warm the way a crushing hug was warm, warm the way a bleeding cut was warm, warm the way staring into a sunset was warm.

and when kon would pull back a hair's width, sighing robin into his lips, robin would say, "that isn't—that isn't my name."

kon would smile, somehow knowing the way robin's eyelids would flutter when he rubbed a thumb along robin's jaw, somehow knowing the way robin's heart would paint a rhythm tattoo inside his chest every time he pulled robin close. if robin is honest with himself, he knows kon could pick him out of a faceless line-up by his calloused fingers, his hitchhiker's thumb, the arc of his waist between his hard hips alone.

then, kon would say, "s'okay, rob. tell me when you want, tell me when you're able. i'll be here," and pull robin into another kiss.

here's the thing: the very thought of sharing his secret identity sends an icy shiver down robin's spine. the words tim drake dance along his tongue, then dash back down his throat, leaving frostbite in their wake, leaving him frozen cold, terrified. but kon, sunlight-drenched and clementine kissed as he is, seems to warm him up a little more every day.

--

superheroes telling other ppl their secret identity is a metaphor for coming out change my mind

anyway some classic timkon feels for pride!

tag list: @woahajimes @birdy-bat-writes @subtleappreciation @catxsnow @pricetagofficial @screennamealreadyused @clamityganon @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption @capricorn-stark @batshit-birds @buticaaba @comics-observer @newsical @queenofbooknerds @queen-of-ice494

#scribbles from the swamp #tim drake #red robin #robin #kon-el #conner kent #superboy #timkon #dc #tim drake fic #red robin fic #robin fic #kon-el fic #conner kent fic #superboy fic #timkon fic #dc fic

[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

[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

[flowerflamestars]

Migration Patterns snippet

“Dick’s not the only one who got a shit ton of training,” he told her, tilting his head. Trying to judge the evenness of her pupils. “You’re cold.”   “City dropped me in my fucking pajamas,” Elle said, tone repressive as the arms she crossed tight over her chest. Like a mirror- the feel of it more a joke, something warm, warm, warm lighting wildly through Jason, she matched the angle of his face before saying in a whole different voice, “Didn’t miss you choking men with your thighs.”   There was blood on the jacket. A least one tear, a missed knife dragged through heavy, expensive fabric- it was sure as shit warmer than the tank top and yoga pants she was wearing.   Jason had it halfway off before he answered, belated. “You were going to kill all of them.”   “Shockingly,” Elle drawled, a whole wave of heat choking him as she held out her hand, taking the suit jacket like a forgone conclusion. “My morals take a raincheck when assholes shoot at my head.”   She wasn’t that small, not really. Short without those shit stomping shoes he was used to seeing her in- delicate to the point of absurdity drowning in his clothes, huddled, huge eyes catching neon.   “Self defense,” Jason heard himself offer, just to see her blink.   Scowl.   A Gotham girl, barefoot in an alley and still ready to go.   “I wasn’t worried,” Elle said, skirting around his body and making a sharp left toward the street.   “I’m parked the other way.”   Elle stopped. Closed her eyes right in the moment he might have really been able to see them, paused beneath the golden light of the stupid faux old-fashion streetlights the city had thrown up all over this district. Not even fucking solar, ugly as sin and twice as expensive as what had been there in the first place.   “I’m good,” she said, before looking back, somewhere toward Jason’s left shoulder, “Thanks for the jacket.”   The absolute fuck she was.   “Elle.”   A tired, inexplicable smile was all the real answer he got. “Night, Jay.”

#Gotham magic misfiring? #more likely than you think #(but IS IT MISFIRING) #Jason: why would Elle worry? Elle is a WARDEN #Elle: there were only six of them and your eyes started glowing like a horror show are you KIDDING- #Also Elle: the mob is not allowed to shoot at me they are sure as fuck going to live to regret shooting at MY SOULMATE- #EVEN IF WE'RE NOT REALLY SPEAKING AT THE MOMENT #Elle isn't even a murder kitten #she's just like #working in a moral framework that is not necessarily the one expected of her at first glance #and currently #having the mostly conflicted thoughts about a suit jacket #she is Just like. physically incapable of not flirting with Jason at least a little #but is also only going to let him take care of her so much when he just disappeared on her #Sad Jason voice: I have to make up for the fact that it's Me #Elle narrating this encounter to Wells: this sexy stupid motherfucker IN A SUIT #being HANDSOME AND KIND AND FUNNY- #anyway #they've gone seventeen steps backwards to go forwards and Elle has never before appeared quite so much like her sixteen year old self #robin fic #Migration Patterns of Turdidae

[lazylittledragon]

'i'll just do a couple of doodles of mombin™/platonic stobin parents' nevermind, borderline graphic novel

#stranger things #platonic stobin #mombin™ #robin buckley #steve harrington #i blacked out at 2am last night and wrote like 25 pages #i don't write fic so i do this instead and get to call it my job #incredible #i have No excuse to not finish this one bc i'm not at school anymore #there has to be an existing gay club called passionfruit right #cw pregnancy

[two-sibyls-tall]

Some of My Favorite Batfam Fic Tropes

In no particular order:

 - The batfam have their own language of chirps, trills, tweets, and whistles, and they use it in front of other ppl (civilians, the jla, whatever) and the other ppl go “what the actual fuck”

 - Bruce throwing the batarang at Jason Todd’s neck actually Does Damage(TM), and eventually the other members of the family find out and lose their shit

 - “Hey Tim?” “Yeah?” “Where’s your fucking spleen :)” “Lost it.” “LOST IT??”

 - Damian calling his brothers Akhi :)

 - “How many kids do you HAVE??” -The entire Justice League

 - Jason going to Titans Tower, seeing Tim, saying “is anyone gonna parent that” and then not waiting for an answer.

 - Literal Toddler Tim Drake informing the Batfamily that yes he knows everyone’s identity, and really if you didn’t want people to figure it out you should stop showing off your extremely niche skills during patrols Nightwing.

 - “Dude your son is a crime boss.” “Ex-crime boss :/”

 - A Batfamily member hearing someone talk about their civilian identity (bc, yknow,, they’re famous) and just having to Deal With It because what the fuck else are they supposed to do??

 - The Justice League hearing about Batman and assuming he (& his family) are demons or vampires or some other cryptid, and then meeting him and finding out he’s just Some Guy.

 - The batfamily learning the origin of the name Robin

- The Justice League meeting the Batfamily and specifically learning who Red Hood is, and one of the heroes nervously asks “Didn’t the second Robin.. die?” and Jason just goes “yeah lol”

Edit // If ur seeing this original post by itself, I already posted a fic rec list related to these tropes :)

#fic #ao3 #fic tropes #dc #batman #justice league #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #titans tower #dick grayson #nightwing #damian wayne #robin #i am literally begging for fic recs #batfamily