#and Jason's inability to see Bruce as a person who can learn from his mistakes and be a semi decent parent

[the-purple-possum]

When I say I really want a Jason adopts tim fic, I don't mean I want him to become a parent at 19 to a teen like 2-4 years younger than him, I want Jason to meet Tim and decide that he wants Tim on his side.

I want Jason to adopt Tim as his Robin, like he decides that he wants to recruit this 15 year old that is some how the smartest and snarkiest person in Gotham. I don't want infantilised tim, I want a sorta Nani and Lilo sibling dynamic, but with a smaller age gap.

Like sure, Jason sees his little brother as some sort of soggy kitten that he must protect, but also a Tim that is very capable of looking after himself.

I want Tim to look at Jason, see Bruce back when he first donned the Cape and traffic light colours. And then in true Tim fashion decide to fix him, B was being too over protective since Red Hood showed up anyways.

Like imagine, Jason meeting Tim instead by accident when he drops in on a drug trade. Tim says some quip that throws him off his game while fighting. Jason basically losing to a very deadly fifteen year old who's not slept in 29 hours, and he thinks 'f it, I like the kid'. Then trying to recruit him consistently until Tim goes 'why tf not'.

I want enemies to caretaker, but they both think they're the caretaker

[enby-soup-computer]

Honestly? I find Batman as an isolated character rather boring. I find most characters in isolation boring. But Bruce suffers from being isolated fairly often because for some reason filmmakers have this concept of "Batman works alone", despite having Alfred even when it's early in his story. Bruce only becomes a compelling character to me when he has other characters around him.

When he's with Commissioner Gordon there's solidarity, in trying to fight for the right thing before the robins, and in fatherhood after. With Wonder Woman and Superman and the rest of the JL he becomes an interesting contrast, a voice of reason.

When Dick Grayson is first introduced he is suddenly flung into the fact that he is now responsible for another person. And now he has to be more careful, can't just yeet himself into stupid situations. He has to help this child learn to moderate his emotions, to guide him away from murderous anger.

When Jason Todd comes in, he is grieving his relationship with Dick, has made mistakes there. He sees another child who needs help, and he tries to stay removed, tries sending him to his grandmother. It very much doesn't go well. Suddenly he has another headstrong boy to guide and protect. When that relationship goes a little sour just before Jason's death, and really bad after his return, we also see more of Bruce's struggles with his emotional issues.

Tim forces himself into Bruce's path of self destruction after Jason's death, and we get a look at ruinous grief and the return from the brink. In many ways this warps Tim and Bruce's relationship, ways we see in later arcs, things like Tim's absolute willingness to sacrifice everything for Bruce, but also his inability to fully rely on him.

Stephanie's brief tenure throws him back to both Dick's Robin days, and in much more painful ways, Jason's.

Damian crashes in only a short while before Bruce gets lost in the time stream, so we don't get a ton of interaction between them while Damian's settling in, but after? After Bruce comes comes back? We get a Batman who's used to a Robin he can trust to work as his equal more than his sidekick, and a Robin who's just a breath away from going homicidally rogue. We get an estranged father who desperately wants to connect to his son who seems nothing like him (too alike to him).

So, TLDR; I generally don't find Batman on his own to be a terribly interesting character. It's when he's around other characters that his story becomes something compelling. He's the rice to the extended cast's curry for a bad metaphor; he is the base that gives them more substance and allows their flavor to shine.

Also if Wayne Family adventures got a show based of it I would probably die happy.

[remakethestars]

Being Batman’s Daughter Would Include:

Headcanons.

❝Listen, Robin. At their core, people are cowardly and self-serving. Trust no one until you know them. And even then, never completely.❞

— Bruce Wayne, “The Lesson Plan”

TRIGGER WARNING: Plant murder. Mentions of drugs/tranqs (stopping dealers), violence/physical harm, broken bones (knee cap), limb dislocation (shoulder), (Jason’s) death, smoke, waterboarding/drowning?

Headcanon masterlist.

You know how every teenager has that paradigm shift because as much as they love the people around them, they’ll never know the inner workings of your psyche? And they realize they’ll never truly be known? And it makes them feel really lonely?

Yeah, you never come to feel like that because you know Bruce digs so far into everyone around him he probably knows you better than you do.

Honestly, he probably reads your diary. At least, he reads the fake one you hide under your mattress. And the second decoy in the A.C. vent above your dresser.

If you’re as paranoid as Bruce, you probably don’t have a diary, and the aforementioned “decoys” are just to mess with him.

Sun Tzu’s The Art of War was practically your Bible growing up.

You’re torn between giving yourself the tactical advantage of being underestimated & being non-reactive, which — besides giving you the lioness role in the lion–gazelle dynamic — gives you the advantage of having time to think carefully on the repercussions before speaking.

Because, as Sun Tzu said in chapter seven, verse twenty-one, “Ponder and deliberate before you make a move.”

Seeing as Bruce and Damian both have eidetic memories, I’m guessing you do too. 

Which means you totally read the dictionary when you were young and whip our big words nobody’s heard of.

Bruce always assured you it’s okay to be scared. As a matter of fact, like he told Dick (seen in flashbacks in “The Lesson Plan”), he taught you to “Let terror embrace you. The better you know fear, the better you can use it against others.”

And we all know Bruce is the paragon of using fear against people.

Take that, Scarecrow!

(See, I chose that gif because earlier in that move, he displays a fear of bats, & in that scene, he summons them to use as a distraction and walks through them completely unperturbed. No? Okay, I’ll see myself out.)

You started into the vigilante business young, a little bulge under the back of Batman’s cape that made the rest of the Justice League in the meeting think Bruce was host to an alien parasite until your little mask-covered eyes poked up over his shoulder.

The League’s known you since you were young, so they kind of all see you as their niece. That just quadruples the amount of people who are overprotective of you.

Eventually, in your tweens, you think enough’s enough and start out on your own — being underestimated may be an advantage, but it’s getting ridiculous — and you tackle unsolved cases.

You set up various safe houses around the world for your own disposal (using the zeta tubes) and anyone who sees the inside of one in an emergency is always surprised. You don’t really understand why; what serious vigilante doesn’t have secure, state-of-the-art safe locations scattered across the planet?

Sometimes, it gets you into danger, but you always get yourself out of it. If there ever comes a time you can’t, well, you’ve got a direct link to Batman, and if communications fail, you can always yell for your Uncle Clark at the top of your lungs.

If the latter ever comes to fruition, you ask Bruce if he’s disappointed you had to call for back-up or that you called Superman instead of Batman, and he says, “It takes a strong person to admit when they’re weak, [Y/N]; if anything, I’m proud of you. Besides … you’re not the only one who yells for Uncle Clark when they get in over their head.”

Your training entailed hacking and mechanics, so you like to fix computers and sell them on the internet Hugh Jeffreys style. It started out with Macs from the dumpster behind Gotham Academy and turned into a surprising side hustle. Large portions of your profits go into either savings or funding your extracurricular activities. 

You’re using a MacBook that’s running Linux and an iPhone 4 that’s running your own program. 

At some point, your phone falls into the wrong hands, and someone asks why it has such high security. You deadpan and say, “I have three older brothers.” No further explanation required.

One such solo case led you to a ring of drug dealers working in a small town outside of Gotham. You made some tranquillizers and heavy-duty smoke bombs and busted out your shinobi-iri training.

After sliding on a mask covering the bottom half of your face that filtered out smoke, you set all of the bombs off at once in the ventilation system, filling the building and using the infrared in your domino mask to sedate everyone before the cops arrived so no one got hurt (because there would inevitably be a firefight if the cops got involved).

You never go into a situation expecting to go hand-to-hand with someone; you always have a plan to take our your targets quickly an efficiently.

One night, when you’re working on a cold case in Gotham, you stumble across some intel that Poison Ivy’s been stockpiling chemicals and is going to wipe out all human life on Earth.

Luckily for you, Bruce’s paranoia is hereditary; you just happen to carry some white kryptonite in your belt, so you won’t have to go all the way back to the cave to obtain some.

You type out a quick debrief on your wrist computer in case you end up needing to send out an S.O.S., pop on your bottom mask to filter out spores or pheromones she might send in your direction, and bust out your shinobi-iri training again.

Of course, you try the peaceful approach, explaining to Ivy that you agree with her on the tree-hugger front to build rapport (T.B.F., who doesn’t?), but it comes to physical confrontation. You kill every vine that comes your way with a quick punch from your kryptonite ring, toss an expanding polyurethane foam bomb (see Batgirl #38) at her feet, and manage to get an inhibitor collar on her.

Gordon takes her away, and by the next morning, it’s on the news.

“You took down Ivy by yourself?” Bruce asks when you come down for breakfast.

“… Yeah,” you say after a moment, expecting a tongue-lashing.

“Are you hurt?”

“No. She didn’t get a hit in. And before you ask, I had a contingency set up in case things went sideways.”

“… Good job.”

Your dad has the article framed in the batcave, which is the bat-equivalent of having your drawing on the fridge or getting a sticker back on a test.

You’re fighting a grin for the rest of the day.

It bugs you you can’t tell anyone why you’re so happy, so you visit Dick in Blüdhaven while he’s on patrol and give him a play-by-play. You even get a hair-ruffle!

Deathstroke targets you at some point. One of Batman and Nightwing’s worst villains, and he targets you because he knows they love you. You’re the smallest bat at the time, the weakest; he thinks you’ll be the easiest to take.

Boy, was he wrong.

He was trained by the League of Assassins, so you know dropping a smoke bomb’s not going to give you cover (and his mask probably has infrared). His brain processes faster than yours, so tricking him is improbable. He’s probably done enough research on you to know you favor foam bombs and has fast enough reflexes to dodge before they go off.

And he’s jammed your comms so you can’t call for backup. You’re worried he’s got kryptonite on him and will hurt Superman if you call for help.

It’s just you and him.

He has enhanced stamina, so he tries to wear you out. You maintain distance to avoid taking damage and wearing faster.

You always admired Tim for his ability to plan ahead (see, like, the entirety of the Red Robin comics). He doesn’t know how he does it; he just does. He can’t really teach you, so you just watch and learn.

You realize your fight with Slade is just a matter of managing the distance and immobilizing him, so you strike. You duck behind a pillar or grab onto a railing or something and shoot him through the thigh with your grappling gun, reeling him in. He, of course, draws his sword or a knife to cut the line, but you’re already throwing high-density expanding polyurethane bombs.

And, just like that, you’ve single-handedly taken Deathstroke.

It sends a clear message to the rest of the Gotham villains, Blüdhaven’s villains, the League of Assassins — don’t mess with the bat’s little girl. She can hold her own.

Now it’s time for you to come up with another plan to take him down; you doubt the same method will work twice, and you’ve just made a very powerful enemy.

As Wonder Woman’s said, “Do not mistake a desire to avoid violence for an inability to deal with it.” You might go into most situations with a plan to take down your opponent already in motion, but when it comes to an all-out brawl, you’re perfectly capable and don’t pull your punches.

You’re working on an unsolved case in Blüdhaven (Dick’s got enough on his plate) when you get an S.O.S. from the aforementioned along with the feed and recording from his mask. You listen to the mission briefing while you ride back to the cave and then the audio from the Young Justice mission. They got jumped by the League of Shadows in an abandoned factory, and Talia’s trying to coerce Damian into joining the League or whatever.

The usual dropping some smoke bombs and tranqing everyone isn’t going to work on thirty armed League assassins who were trained to fight blind, so you load up on polyurethane foam bombs and call Jason and Cassandra.

The three of you take out the guards outside before splitting up and taking either end of the building (Cass stays with you). You meet in the middle, in the room the team’s being held in.

You highjacked the speakers, so they’re blasting AC/DC’s “Shoot to Thrill” upon Jason’s insistence. You wanted Zayde Wølf or Alice Cooper’s “Hey, Stoopid,” but big brothers will be big brothers.

Jason pops them with rubber bullets from above to slow them down for you while Cass demolishes them and you drop foam bombs, slinging your signature custom shuriken, bonk them over the head with Tim’s staff you picked up along the way, dislocate their arms, or shatter their kneecaps. 

You and Jason get a couple slices from swords that got a little too close, but it’s nothing compared to what you’ve had before. 

When the fighting’s done and the building’s quiet, the team’s, like, “Who the heck are you guys?” 

And Dick’s, like, 😏 “They’re our siblings.” 

Speaking of siblings, you’re older than Damian, and as such, you take upon yourself the honor of teaching him all things pop-culture.

“I have a lot of amazing older siblings. I want to be a good big sister.”

First things first, you give him one of your refurbished e-waste phones and take him to Target to pick out an OtterBox or a LifeProof case or something that’ll keep it safe in the pocket of a vigilante.

Vigilantes are always coming to you when their phone’s broken anyway; you’ve got a stack of spares you’ve repaired.

Then you help him set up a Spotify account (follow me at @remakethestars 😉) and try to help him find his rhythm.

Poor child’s never had Oreos before, so you drag a pack of Double Stuffs out of the cabinet and a glass of milk and show him the best milk-dunking method you know.

You think about handing him a cookie and telling him to waterboard it until the bubbles stop coming up, but cookie-dunking is something every kid does; it’s sacred, and you don’t want him to associate it with violence.

You show him how you and Alfred feed the bats in the batcave.

And you show him Vine compilations and your favorite shows and movies and as many classics as you can, and you put up with him pointing out the inaccuracies and calling them stupid.

Every time he doesn’t get a reference, you write it down so you know what to show him later.

If anything ever happens to you, Damian finds your list and makes it his personal mission to watch/read everything on it. It makes him feel close to you.

You build a relationship with him that’s similar to his and Dick’s, and he comes to you with things he might not be able to come to anyone else with.

Plus, since you live in the manor still and he doesn’t want Bruce to think less of him, it’s you he comes to after a nightmare.

If you know Alfred has pictures of him curled up in your side, you ask him to send them to you. Not for blackmail purposes; just to have.

You’d never use the need of comfort or the sharing of emotions against him because (A) it’s perpetuating toxic masculinity and (B) you don’t want him to think it’s wrong or confirm any of the stupid “strength” things the League of Shadows taught him.

You gave him a stuffed cat that looks like Alfred (the cat, not the butler) with some of your perfume spritzed on it. He verbalized his revulsion when you gave it to him, but on nights he has a bad dream and you’re not home, it brings him comfort.

Titus comes to get you when Damian’s upset. 

Even when he’s not with Damian, he seems to know. Pets are like that.

You’ve learned to trust Titus’s instincts. Damian thinks it’s suspicious when he’s feeling down and you just happen to call.

You never realized it until a long time later, but Ace was acting weird the day Jason came back from the dead.

And he was acting weird the day Jason came back to Gotham too. He ran to the door and began barking. Alfred swept security, but nothing seemed to be off. The whole family was on edge that day.

You were the reason Jason knew he wasn’t completely forgotten; he spotted you through a café window, and you were wearing his jacket.

Visit my headcanon masterlist.

[black-streak]

Waiting for the Worms - Empty Spaces

Part 2

Please heed warnings of part 1. Added warning of suicidal tendencies. If Anything about suicide makes you triggered, don't continue reading this particular story. Please be mindful of yourself. This WILL get worse.

Tag list of known masochists (I'm playing, you guys are amazing):

@northernbluetongue @thethirdwheelfriend @shizukiryuu @theatreandcomicfreak @michellemagic @karategirl119 @moonlightstar64 @my-name-is-michell @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @wuvpancakes @dorkus-minimus @jardimazul @allthebooksandcrannies @g-arya @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @persephonescat @mycupisbroken @luciferge @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dawnwave16 @alwaysreblogneverpost @kris-pines04 @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @weird-pale-blonde-person @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @kokotaru @naclychilli @slytherinhquinn @clumsy-owl-4178 @ladybug-182 @darkthunder1589 @evil-elf16 @lysslovsanime

~---~

Coming to in Marinette's body was jarring to say the least. Moments earlier, pain was all he could register and now he was leaning back on a bench in the back of a classroom. 

Leaning forward and hiding his face in his arms, he focused in on the tug in the back of his mind, trying to bring it forward. To force the switch back, only to be met with harsh resistance.

"Dammit Mari, don't do this. Let me back!" He whispered under his breath, panic starting to lurch to the forefront. He started to shake all over, the longer the connection lasted and the longer she resisted.

"Marinette, please stop, please? You can't keep doing this," he murmured, slowly rocking back and forth, pushing with all he had at the bond.

"God, how pathetic can she get? Faking a breakdown for attention," a voice from the front spoke, pitched just right to be intentionally heard by him.

"Why don't you mind your own damn business," a haughty voice exclaimed from his left, before a body drew closer, arm wrapping around his shoulder. He held back a flinch, trying to tune into her normal reliance on others for comfort, instead leaning into the body, vaguely recognizing it as Chloe. 

The resistance dropped and finally the tug calmed down. He still couldn't switch back, but she wasn't fighting him anymore either. He let out a sigh as the shaking calmed down. Bruce must've found her. She was safe, but likely exhausted and unable to switch back. As much as he hated her taking the pain for him, all he could do now was wait for the bond to pull again and leave a letter detailing exactly what he thought of her little stunt here.

This time Jason did flinch. He felt the first few blows Joker landed, he could only imagine how much pain she must be in now.

"You okay there, marzipan?"

That was a new one. Glancing up into worried baby blues, he gave one soft nod and slumped into her side, paying attention to the lesson. Mari would be upset if he let her fall behind in her studies while she was gone.

…

It had been four days since then and Jason couldn't help feeling like something was horribly wrong. It wasn't the first time they switched for an extended period of time, by any means, but his gut told him this time was different.

Sure she had claimed his body for well over four days before to wait out an injury or get more extensive training with Bruce before and he had held her body hostage for over a week once when she was in the hospital with pneumonia, but normally a tug or two would tell him that one of them was holding out on the swap.

This time, nothing came. His mind was achingly devoid of her and as the days passed, he feared he might end up here longer than planned. It would make sense. Multiple broken bones, blunt force trauma, and the sheer force of their swap could easily have overwhelmed his body and dropped it into a state of unconsciousness. 

He took to her computer, trying any combination of words related to the accident to see if anything had been reported only to come up empty handed.

That couldn't be right, if she were in the hospital, if his body was properly reported as a Joker victim, the report would be made public, even if the identity was kept under wraps for being an unknown minor. Anything to indicate someone was caught up in the accident. Surely Bruce wasn't relying solely on Alfred to patch them back up?

It wasn't until a week after the incident that he received his answer, buried in a tiny little notice in the back of a Tuesday local newspaper. Like an afterthought. Amongst the obituaries. A tiny note that the late Jason Peter Todd had died.

His soulmate died in his body and didn't even make it into the citywide Sunday paper. Just a local midweeker with barely more than two sentences.

Disbelief struck first.

This couldn't be real, right? Soulmates weren't able to just. Die in the other's place. That wasn't a thing. It was his body, if anything, he would have immediately been evicted the second his body died and moved on while she returned to hers. So how the fuck was he still here?

Next came anger.

How dare Marinette die in his place. How dare she end her life for his mistakes! And by the Joker! The fucking Joker deserved to die for torturing and killing his sweet little soulmate. He deserved a life worse than death. To be strung up and peeled apart inch by inch until he begged for death. And Batman... How dare he not make it in time to save her. It'd be okay if it were him, but not her! She didn't deserve this. Mari had her own life, her own desires and dreams, her own villain to hunt down, and that was torn away from her because Batman let them down. But even worse, Bruce barely cared enough to be open about his death. To mourn the loss of her like he did, even if the man didn't know it was an innocent in that body and not him. And even if it had been, it hurt knowing that he alone wasn't worth more than a barely there acknowledgment that he was once alive in an unseen back page.

Last came devastating grief.

She was gone. Marinette, the girl who never even really met him, cared so much for him, she sacrificed her own life for his. Forced him to stay in her body and took his as her own to the grave so he could live as her. With her loving parents and colorful room and warm heart. She gave him everything and wanted nothing in return. Slept on the streets for him at times, took brutal fights on as Robin so he could have a reprieve, skipped meals so he could taste something he'd never had before that her parents made that night. Learned English from an early age so they could talk and he wouldn't be alone in the world. And now that one of them had died, she ensured that he would be left in the best environment she could provide him, even if it had become rougher around the edges from when they were younger. And now she was gone. Dead. Never to return. And as he turned towards the mirror and looked into her beautiful, glowing blue eyes, he saw the tears trail down her face before he collapsed into himself, cursing anything and everything in the universe for allowing such a cruel fate.

…

For the next month, he moved through life like a zombie. As much as he hated her classmates for treating her the way they had, he couldn't help but feel grateful that no one wanted anything to do with him. They still muttered under their breath and glared and purposefully manipulated situations against him, but no one tried to ask what was wrong.

Everyone but Chloe and Juleka avoided him like the plague, which felt accurate in a sense. He didn't have to fake a smile or pretend to be okay like he had when the class still loved her. He could sulk and cry and grieve and it went unquestioned. The others hated him and the two girls, while worried, knew that sometimes she needed the reprieve of just letting her negativity go unchecked for a little while to make up for bottling so much of it all the time, so they let it go as well. The teacher barely glanced his direction. If it weren't so beneficial to him at the moment, Jason would be pissed at the obvious neglect his soulmate had endured at the hands of this lot. As it stood, he just cried a little harder at night in his grief, Tikki curled to his neck with tears of her own. 

The two quickly bonded over their mutual loss and the inability to talk about it to anyone else. Despite the stress of it, Jason refused to let anyone else know that Marinette had died. Her parents didn't need to suffer her death while looking at her living, breathing body, knowing she wasn't in it. That it was his fault she had died in the first place. And he couldn't even imagine having to tell them how she died.

So he resolved himself to live in her stead. To live as she would for the sake of her loved ones and in her honor. He had enough practice in the past to pull it off. It helped that they had both learned to suppress their emotions to the point of nonexistent in the light of facing Hawkmoth.

That was another thing entirely, though. While he resolved to fake a smile and play the happy designer in her civilian life, Ladybug took a turn from that day forward. He warned the cat off him, not playing into the teasing and banter, becoming stoic and professional. And when the kid got too brash, too pushy, too unreliable, he stripped the ring from him and moved on. Built a team she would've been proud to lead.

Over the next three months, he slowly adjusted her mannerisms to be more natural for him. Not enough to be noticeable or seen as anything more than growing older and slightly more jaded, but enough to make it a touch easier and less like he was living a lie.

…

Six months had passed and everything was different. 

The rest of the class didn't bother him. Didn't make accusations. Throw insults. Acknowledge his existence in any way. And maybe that was meant to be punishment. To be treated as a ghost haunting an unknowing audience. But it was pure bliss. He couldn't thank them enough for their continued silence. 

At least this way he could pretend her last days of life were happy and surrounded by people who cared for her. That they were grieving her just as he was.

There were still mornings he forgot. Times he'd walk by a mirror and smile, seeing her looking back and thinking it just another of their sporadic swaps where he'd wake as her and find a note waiting for him. 

Then reality would crash around him as the little kwami would come out and look at him with those sad eyes, nuzzling his neck (her neck, this was her body god dammit). On those days it hit him differently. Sometimes he'd shut it all down, going through the motions for the rest of the day. Other times he'd break down and cuddle the small being as close as possible and share in her despair, not bothering to leave the house. Usually anger would coarse sharp and deadly through his heart, urging him to seek vengeance. On those days, any remarks made his way were brutally rebutaled, until the remarks stopped entirely. Ladybug fought with just a little more violent intent; he couldn't avenge her until Hawkmoth was defeated. Those gorgeous blue eyes set into her face turned into a deadly storm of promised danger. 

It all kept swirling and cycling through him over and over until one day, the desperation and grief and hurt all hit a little too hard and he laid on the floor, staring up at the dark ceiling, wishing he could be by her side. That he could join her and not have to feel like this anymore. That it could all just go away and he could be happy for once in his miserable life.

That night he wished for nothing more than to die. If it hadn't been for the absolute heartwrenching sight of her little, pale hand wrapped around a too big knife, he has no doubt he would have gone through with it. 

Afterwards he could only thank his cowardice for preventing him from destroying her body like that. She wanted him to live and who was he to deny her? 

That night, he curled up on the cold, hardwood floor and begged her forgiveness, promising to do better. To be better. He knew she couldn't hear him, would never respond, but he begged all the same.

[onelastbreath-writes]

On Bruce And Texting:

Author’s Note: Hello and welcome, this is my first properly written fic, originally posted to my AO3, and now that I have finally created a writing blog, it’s here as well. Please enjoy!!  AO3.  Masterlist

Warnings: Hopefully none, its all cute and fluff <3

Summary: Bruce Wayne texts like he's sending correspondences to the Queen, so of course the little monsters he calls children just have to make fun of him! Brats, the lot of them, but he wouldn't have them any other way.

Features: Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle, all the bats and birds, mentions JL, no crime fighting, only family fluff, jokes and nods to Millennial and GenZ shenanigans.

Word Count: 2.7k

---

Billionaire, genius, tech expert, father of many children, and all around up-to-date-with-just-about-everything type of person he may be, it is also a well-known Fact that Bruce Wayne, the Batman(TM) himself, can’t text to save his life.

Whether it’s due to his Very Proper English Upbringing, his inability to be informal via written correspondences of any type, his indifference, or the fact that it bothers his children so much, Bruce Wayne has not and never will text with anything less than perfect grammar, spelling, and formality. If he has not sent you a proper letter (featuring a dedication, indentation for every paragraph, signature, and post-script when applicable), he did, in fact, not send you that text. Informality is not his Batman Way(TM) according to his children... he’s not too sure what that even means, but it makes his young ones laugh so it’s probably fine?  

His oldest children (Richard and Jason) were raised in the time of Change, where computers, internet access, social media, and all things similar were only just being introduced into households en-masse. They were young enough to remember a time without such devices and connectivity (both for very different reasons, of course, but they grew up without the newest technology none-the-less). They could understand his relationship to the digital environment more so than his younger children, but they still tended to poke fun at his ‘texting blunders’ regularly. All his kids somehow ended up as brats. He doesn’t know how this happened. It’s certainly not his fault. He blames the League members, and especially Clark Kent, for their defiant personalities. 

His younger children, whom he loves dearly, like to confuse him as much as they possibly can with their slang, egregious spelling errors, and all-around ‘internet humour’. He doesn’t know what ‘wig’ or ‘worm’ or ‘oof’ or anything means. He has no idea what those dances are, or how they relate to the music that seems to always accompany them, and for the love of all that is good, don’t ask him what he thinks of this or that ‘meme’. What even is a ‘meme’, and should he be more concerned about his kids being obsessed with them? He tries, oh my god, does he try to follow the children’s conversations, but they somehow all learned a language he has no idea how to decrypt. His best response to them once they start speaking in tongues is as follows: smile but not too much, listen to child even though he is deeply confused, and pat child on head or shoulder when they are finished and are looking for assurance.  

He refuses to be a parent who ignores or tunes out his children, so he always makes sure to put down his work, his crossword, his tools, or whatever else is in his hands when a child searches him out for a conversation. But somehow, despite all the time he spends around them and their strange words, when he gets text from them comprised of abbreviations, acronyms, and completely random words, he goes a little cross eyed. He would never tell anyone, but he keeps a running list on his phone about the things they say that he has had to translate in the past. Spilling tea? Speaking the truth, usually to do with gossip. Wow? Multiple possible meanings: either a video game, or someone saying it (different pronunciation depending on context and who sent the text). Stickbug? A nice little prank with no ulterior motives, just for fun. Something along the lines of “this basic bitch Karen at the grocery store who is a dirty rat-licker and is def an anti-vaxxer just took 45 (forty-five) minutes to decide she didn’t actually want that almond milk. I Stan the cashier who had to put up with her. Rad af dude.” roughly translates to “A rude, middle-aged white woman who wasn’t wearing a mask and doesn’t believe in disease control or vaccinating her children wasted a great deal of an essential worker’s time in the checkout line. The cashier was very professional in their dealings with said customer and should be commended on their actions.”  

Given enough time, the internet for searching up new slang words, and occasionally some help from a friend (Alfred, Selina, Lucius, another of his children, etc), Bruce could decode and respond appropriately to most texts. He was quite proud of these achievements, and although he didn’t always like how often his children were on their phones or computers or gaming systems, he was quite proud of how integrated and easily they adapted to the ever-evolving world of electronics. All his kids were gifted in many ways, but their ability to learn, their hunger for knowledge, and their perseverance when exploring new and challenging ideas were always the things that he was most impressed by.  

He could do without their comments though. Yes, surprisingly, he did manage to get girlfriends with his type of texting. No, he doesn’t miss the ‘good old days’ when telegraphs were the main form of long-distance correspondence (how old do these brats think he is?!). And yes, he does know what a “tweet” is, and how to “post” on his social media accounts, and what “sliding into your DMs” is (thanks to a frantic search after a WE employee mentioned it near him). The Wayne children, truly whom and what Bruce considers his pride and joy, are cruel little jerks to him sometimes. His hoard of parenting books fails to mention what one should do when their children gang up on them. Bullying is covered of course, but he can’t really talk to a teacher or his guardian about how his second son calls him an idiot sandwich, or that his third son regularly tries to get him to do something “For The Vine”. His oldest and youngest boys are only slightly better in the bullying him department; Richard and his puppy dog eyes when he wants to do something dangerous or not-Alfred-approved, and Damian and his growing collection of pets because “Mother never let me have them, and I am deprived, and don’t you love me Father?”.  

His only good child is his beautiful daughter Cassandra, the flower of the Wayne clan. She gives him hugs, and pats his hands, and can sit with him and just enjoy the quiet and stillness when his other children are not around. Her language skills are improving by leaps and bounds every day, and her heart and spirit are unparalleled, but her main method of communication is in her movements. Her hands, her posture, her dancing; Bruce couldn’t think of a more graceful, fluid, powerful person if the world depended on it. His amazing little girl doesn't bully him (and if she ever does, he probably deserves it, he trusts her), so he turns to her most of all when it comes to communicating with someone else. She doesn’t let him send anything that is “sketchy” or “wrong words, bad meaning, Dad”. He would give the world to his children, but for Cassandra, he would destroy it and build her an entirely new one.

Social media, especially with his terrible children all having accounts dedicated to making him look like a simpleton, was another rocky terrain he had to navigate on the regular. He had professionals in place at WE to run the company’s many accounts, paid top dollar to help appeal and relate to the masses, but he mostly had to manage his personal accounts himself. And so, @TheRealBruceWayne was one of the greatest struggles in his adult life. Why can’t he just retweet every post from @WE_Offical and leave it at that? People should only want to know about what’s new with the company. What do you mean they want to know more about our family and private lives? That’s unnecessary, and not important to the running of the company, right? Right? Why are you laughing?!

Luckily, most people in his life aren’t so intimately aware of his struggles. He can act and lie all he wants about being “hip” and “woke” and whatever else the kids are saying these days when he’s with the JL or in board meeting intermissions, networking with his associates. The Batman knows all and sees all, Green Lantern, of course he understands how “Tiktok” works. The Batman is a robot without a funny bone in his body, Green Arrow, but I did witness him sigh and say “same” when he knocked his cup of coffee over while on monitor duty once. No matter how badly his darling children call him out, the Justice League would be so much worse. So, it’s one of his most importantly guarded secrets... even more so than his secret identity at this point. Being unmasked in front of every Gotham rogue would be less detrimental to him than his “friends” learning of his utter ineptitude in staying on top of the younger generations’ lingo.  

When questioned why the League doesn’t have a group chat or a forum or anything that they can use to contact each other outside of world ending matters and communicator (”because we’re friends, Batman! Ma and Pa Kent would love to have everyone over for a barbecue!”), the person who dared even mention texting isn’t even given a verbal response. They are just glared at, silently, often for several uninterrupted minutes, frozen in place only able to breathe shallowly in fear of setting off the Bat. “You know why” his glare says, “I’ll eat you, your family, and everything you have ever held dear” the younger members hear. No one makes the mistake of asking about it twice.  

Outside of his children and Alfred, and his small circle of true friends involved in all aspects of his life, there is only one more person Bruce allows to know of his Darkest Secret. Selina. Someone most people would recommend he not be involved with. Catwoman: accomplished thief, distraction, chaos-incarnate most nights, and his significant other. Sharp as a whip (ha) and crafty like no one’s business; he is head-over-heels. On again/Off again and all over the place their long romance has been, but no one has ever challenged him, intrigued him, like this clever, beautiful, amazing woman has. He’s brought his partners around his children before, both for their judgement, and for their worst behaviours to vet out any “unworthy” suitors. He trusts them explicitly to tell him the truth about those he allows into the manor; were they rude about Bruce wanting to have group outings, did they say something about Bruce’s money, did they get angry or shout or make anyone uncomfortable while they were here? If his children even looked slightly unhappy with someone he brought them to meet, that person would not be invited back. Children, he finds, have the best sight when meeting people; no motives other than finding safety and love, no fear of consequences from speaking honestly...  

Selina, or Catwoman, as they had known her first, was someone all of his kids liked without issue right off the bat. She would make puns and play word games with Richard, his first Robin, tiny, still working on his English, able to connect with him over their acrobatic abilities. His second Robin, Jason, skittish and feisty as an alley cat, knew of Catwoman and her daring escapades long before Bruce found him. The young boy had a few heroes, and no one (not even Wonder Woman) could compare to the incredible burglar who bought food and jackets and medicine for the street kids in Crime Alley. She was saintly in his eyes, and to this day, Bruce was still working on convincing Jason he was good enough for Selina. Tim and Cass and Stephanie (basically another daughter to Bruce, she spends so much time with the family) all joined the Wayne clan around the same time and officially met Selina as a friend and partner of his, and in the good graces of his first two sons. Selina, in all her nightly business, and many travels and acquaintances, had met the three independently, helping Tim get home safely back to Drake Manor when he escaped to photograph Batman and Robin in the dank darkness of Gotham when he was just a young boy, spending some time with Cassandra when her despicable father left her alone long enough to recover from his rough treatment, showing her the first scraps of kindness in her short life, and watching over and protecting Stephanie as she followed and sabotaged her father Cluemaster and his criminal activities. There was no need to win them over once they met her civilian identity, she had already gained their favour and acceptance, and they were happy to have her near their new family. Damian, his youngest, his biological son, took the longest to warm up to Selina. He would never fault his little boy for fighting so hard against a woman that was not his birth mother, especially after all the manipulation and cruelty dealt to him by Talia for the first decade of his life. But as he began to learn about his father, these people in his father’s life, and this woman that was Not His Mother but “still okay, I guess”, he grew to see her as acceptable. Her cats definitely helped, he’d say, no one with cats that loyal and happy can be a bad person.  

Selina, the love of his life, he’d admit quietly to himself, was also a dirty traitor and in cahoots with his terrible children. She would say his texting skills were “sweet” and “very gentlemanly” when she was asked by anyone outside the family, and privately to him she would say she thought they were “adorable” and “please don’t ever change, Bruce, I like it.” However, nothing seemed to bring her more joy than his children sending her texts and “Snaps” and “memes” about him to her. Sometimes it was screenshots of the family group chat that they forced him to join, where he would post “To whom it may concern...” and “In regards to...” when he needed to reach all his delinquents in a timely manner. Sometimes it was video clips of him staring at his phone intently, then typing something on his laptop, then him reading and nodding along, and then finally going back and responding to the text he received with a small, pleased smile. And sometimes, when he got too injured or was too incapacitated to text coherently, he’d have his nearest able child transcribe his text to her. Depending on who was texting her for Bruce, she could expect many different things. From Dick, she’d get lots of shorthand and silly emojis, and many, many, winky and crying/laughing faces in brackets depending on what Bruce had made him type. Jason, bless him, used proper English most of the time, but would never write a single word of Bruce’s soliloquy to her, instead she enjoyed the TL;DR version: “hurt again, missing you, come home soon, blah blah blah, sappy gross words here, love you”. Tim would allow speech recognition to run on Bruce’s phone, and just let it go until the man passed out. Stephanie, the little chaos child, would film it and send it to her, including all her muffled laughter and shaky camera shots of Bruce emoting with his available undamaged limbs. Cass, still more versed in physicality and emotive movement, would interpret Bruce’s text into mostly emojis, hearts and happy faces and animals, but would include photos, and phrases that she found important enough to type out for Selina. Damian, forever his Father’s son in any way possible, texts very formally, referring to her or his siblings Bruce mentions by last name only, and lots of “Father requests me to tell you...” and “Kyle, know that Father...”. She adores these kids, and once Bruce recovers enough to text her himself, or she gets back to the Manor, they get to laugh about whatever she was sent this time.  

So, while it’s true that Bruce couldn’t text his way out of a wet paper bag, and his kids are sometimes brats about it, there’s probably a lot of different reasons he doesn’t spend too much time trying to improve his skills. Whether it’s the smiles of his children, the giggles of his significant other, or the warm feeling in his chest when he sees all his important people bonding over him, well, in the end, who’s to say?

[gobydana]

Amazing Quotes from the comics

Below are some of my favorite quotes from each person. Sorry this list is long. 

Bruce Wayne/Batman

- Death is powerless against you if you leave a legacy of good behind. Death is powerless against you if you do your job. My father saved the lives of over four thousand people, one at a time... with his bare hands and his mind. Death was with him the entire time.

-  Clark, I'm sure anywhere you go in the universe, you'll find stupid people.

-  You don't know how I question myself and everything I've become. The right of it. The wrong of it. Not allowing myself any reward for the good. Damning myself for every mistake. Thinking of everyone who's sacrificed themselves in my war. Everyone close to me. Everyone who cared.

- Our greatest glory is not in ever falling, but in rising every time we fall.

-  Sometimes it’s only madness that makes us what we are.

Selina Kyle/Catwoman

- Live fast. Love hard. Die young. Leave a good-smelling corpse.

-  A long time ago, before I put on this mask, I was afraid of everything

-  "Your ex-lover, a murderous psychopath who has repeatedly made our lives a living hell, nearly burns my new home to the ground and all you can say is 'gross'?!

-  Show a man what he expects to see, and he won't look beneath the surface.

Alfred Pennyworth

-  I fear sometimes, dear boy, that if you don't give this up, you'll have nothing. You can't have darkness and light at the same time, Master Bruce..

-  Everyone has a vulnerability

-  Hnn. At least when Master Richard snuck out, he had the decency to construct a pillow dummy.

-  Pirate Stories-why did I love them as a boy? Because at heart they're about children who rebel against their parents to create new lives for themselves. They're stories of defiance. But the trick is, when you look at them as a parent, you see, they're actually written as cautionary tales. The child comes home in the end, just before doom strikes the ship. But in this tale, Bruce, the one I've helped make for you, Batman...I worry it has gone on too long...that I've kept it going with you long past it's natural end. That's what I was screaming about when you were on the wrecked submarine. Not the ways you've failed me but the ways I may have failed you.

Kate Kane/Batwoman

-  You coming? Or do I have to smash this bitch in the teeth all by myself?

-  You think I'm afraid of you? Any of you? You gave me a bulletproof suit, you morons! What can you do to stop me?

-  You will never get these years with her back, and a daughter needs her mom. I know I did. And I would've done anything to have more time with her. I can't be the reason for doing that to another kid. I can't

- So there is someone new in town ... Who the hell wears white?

Luke Fox/Batwing

-  I really should lead with the knockout gas instead of conversation.

-  You're leading me around through this nightmare like it's business as usual. Like I'm supposed to accept the supernatural. I accept it, okay? And now I'm going to kick its ass!

-  This night sucks. And now I have no choice but to run and hide because "Mary Psycho Poppins" just handed me my ass.

Dick Grayson/Nightwing (including his time as robin)

-  With you guys, it seems like I'm hot stuff … a know-it-all … but I've been back with The Batman again, and next to him I feel like I'm a stupid kid repeating fifth grade … for the third time.

-  Try to understand our position here, Batman. You began training to be a hero as a young adult. For me and a lot of the other Titans -- like Vic -- that training shaped and influenced most of our childhood. Unlike the JLA, the Titans aren't just about a promise to the world -- it's also about a promise to each other … to ourselves. We swore on our childhood nightmares that we'd be there for one another. If I don't honor that I don't honor who I am.

-  Sometimes I'm surprised I can even stand on a high ledge after what happened to the Flying Graysons. Boss Zucco could have sabatoged Haly's Circus any number of ways to drive down business and get his protection money. Instead he gave the crowd that night a show they'll never forget. I know I won't. When my mom and dad died, attendance actually went up.

-  Okay Mom and Dad, your 'Flying Grayson' is about to take the great leap. Or as they say in French, Le Grand Saut. Down, down, and away. I'd say I wish you could see me now, but I know you're watching me - I can feel angels on my shoulders. And probably a bat too. You said some records aren't meant to be broken, Bruce. But more than anything, I wish you were down there right now watching with Alfred and Tim as I break this one.

-  I had a good teacher, except for the interpersonal skills and the ability to work with others. That was me.

Barbara Gordon/Batgirl/Oracle

- A little over a year has passed since my old life ended, since I died and was reborn. The shadows remain, but only to give contrast to the light. I am no longer a distaff impersonation of someone else — I’m me, more me than I have ever been. I embrace it, and the light, with a deep, continuing joy.

-  Gotham should be safe again. Well, until the next thing. There’s always another thing

-  Wait for a hero? Barbara Joan Gordon -- Be your own damn hero

-  I'll wake up, learn from my mistakes and ultimately win the fight. I always do.

Jason Todd (including his time as robin)

-  I'll be damned if my best friend is going to die ... because he was dumb enough to trust me

-  Someone tell me I'm not having a heart-to-heart with a reanimated assassin

-  Trust? You...? I'll... give it a try, guys. But I'll tell you right now... I'm probably going to screw it up.

-  I'm sorry, I'm never going to be the hero you want me to be. I have every confidence in you--that you'll stay the hero I know you are

Tim Drake/Red Robin (including his time as robin)

-  The weight of the future... all of our futures... it just presses on me sometimes. And lately, it's been crushing, and I've been too afraid to ask for help. But I need to, Bruce. So this is me, asking for help.

-  It’s not smart to blackmail the wrong people

- That’s what we are. Not just a team, but a family. One day we might be the Justice League, but for today we’re the Teen Titans. 

-  I had a plan. That plan just went to hell

Stephanie Brown/Spoiler (including her time as batgirl and robin)

-  How come every time I try to do this different than Batman, I end up doing exactly what Batman would do?

-  I am who I choose to be.

-  I just watch two guys stealing TVs run into one another. Sadly, both televisions were lost... On the bright side, they'll each have a friend in jail.

-  Here's the deal, I'm a 'punch first, ask questions later' kinda gal. Him? He's a stabber.

Cassandra Cain/Orphan (including her time as batgirl/black bat)

-  I don't kill. But I don't lose, either.

-  Gotham City. Gotham. City. That just... sounds right. Mailbox. Van. Razor. It's strange how naming... changes things. I've walked these streets... every inch of this city... but I never had the words. I never knew the names. Now... it's like it's all changed. All new. Or maybe... Maybe it's me that's changing.

-  A special ability to predict my opponent's moves. That doesn't begin to describe it. Time... ran together. The future... blending... into the moment. A blink of an eye... the knife thrust that follows... both one. It was like... like I could predict my opponent's moves. Okay, that does describe it. But it doesn't do it justice.

Damian Wayne/Robin

-  Father, I'm sure you'll be angry with me for disobeying you again but I don't care, I will not let you fight Leviathan alone. You need me and I will always be at your side. Because it will be hard for me to say these words face to face, I want you to know that Mother may have givenme life, but you taught me how to live. Love and respect your son Damian

-  I don't want to end up like Ducard... without a moral compass... I don't want to turn into a NoBody... I want to be like you. I've always wanted to be like you.

-  I'm sure you didn't leave your hole tonight thinking you'd get your ass kicked by a ten-year-old!

-  I'm not the one in a ship filled with alien freaks, so how about shutting up and letting me work on keeping you safe, father!

Duke Thomas/Signal

- Someone told me that the problem with youth is the inability to accept your own mortality. I wouldn't consider this one of my problems

-  Sometimes you're wrong. Sometimes there is a place for you at the table. Some mysteries may never be solved by you alone. Sometimes you don't have to prove yourself repeatedly -- because you're confident about your purpose. And sometimes you just have to get to work for everything to work out.

-  not to mention you tire stealing genius, i’m not robin!

-  My career of choice has crazy hours, bad benefits, and doesn't pay. But it's the dream I never knew I always had. Mom, dad... I'm going into the vigilante business. I hope I live to tell you all about it.

Harper Row/Blue bird

-  I want training. Proper training. Tim's great at the tech stuff, but so am I. I want to know how to karate chop someone in the neck so their eyeballs pop out. I want to know the cool stuff.

-  Sometimes all it takes is a few words to change your life. For me it took seven. Seven words, spoken in the dark.

-  And you thought "Oh, Hey, I'm going to just talk to the scariest-looking bastard in the Narrows and see what he thinks"?

-  I never had a choice - but only because this is what I want, more than anything. And I was going to do this. I've told you that, again and again

Jean-Paul Valley/Azreael

-  You aren't asking if I'm okay, Lucas. You are asking if I can fight. I am angrier than I have ever been in my life, and I am sharing my mind with one murderous AI, and another one modeled off the world's most dangerous vigilante. Yes Lucas. I am ready to fight

-  Nomoz...he’s the one who came for me...he’s the one who broke me. For the greater glory of God

Feel free to add onto this list. I would love to know everyone’s favorite quotes.