#barbara gordon

[gwensy]

@helenababs

laptop with seven fold-out screens

[celestialgalaxyglow]

Batfam group Chat

Bruce: I'm getting pizza, you do you guys want?

Dick: Pepperoni.

Jason: Beef

Danny: Mushrooms.

Tim: Sausage.

Stephane: Chicken.

Barbara: Ham.

Duke: Extra cheese.

Damian: Bacon.

Bruce (looking at the messages): Why did I decide to adopt so many sidekicks?

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |

[rizzanon]

Undoing Fate

neglected to regressor batsis! reader x platonic batfam

what if after 20 years of neglect from your family full of vigilantes, you face an unfortunate death, only to find yourself regressed back to when you were 16?

⤷ lots of emotional neglect, reader was batgirl, reader was a tryhard and an overachiever, reader had no social life in her first life, mentions of drugs, mentions of human trafficking, mentions of death, regression themes, toxic and unhealthy relationships, dysfunctional family, toxic mentalities, reader and everyone else needs therapy… | tba

⤷ info! (background) 1 | 2 | read this first to understand the plot and each batfam better :)

00 | And she cried over nothing

01 | Sixteen again

02 | A quitter?

03 | Everything is awesome

04 |

taglist (open): @tricksters-maze @dusk-muse @quethekillerqueen @silverklaus @isupportorbitalbombardment @nxdxsworld @vanessa-boo @coffeeaddictxd @moonsbluekingdom @yuya-bubbly @percythebitchwitch @anonymousdisco @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @redsakura101 @what-0-life @idkwhattoputhete @secretyouthcomputer @witch-waycult @allycat4458 @dazed-lavender @eclecticfurylady @wizzerreblogs @marsmabe @daddysfangirls-dc @hoeinthehouse @beeweensblog @ilxandra @agent-nobody-knows | ask to be added <3

(idk why i can’t tag some of y’all, must be your settings i think 😓)

[stealingpotatoes]

Hello you had a dc era? I need more of your Batfamily they’re so delicious! Also happy birthday

i'm always in my dc era deep down, but my absolute Peak batfam/dc phase was when batgirl of burnside and grayson were running so in honour of tweenage me, Them:

(commission info // tip jar!)

[a-m-w-worlds]

I'm officially too entrenched in Batfamily fics, I knew ALL of Bruce's instantly but had to seriously think about Clark's despite him having fewer! And I also don't know all of their tags, so, forgive me!

wahoo finished this in time for superbat week day 5: tired dads!!

[bookburners]

Unpopular opinion: I think Barbara would love if Steph and Cass we’re dating. Barbara showed time and time again she supported Cass doing “normal” teenage things like dating and while Steph might not be her favorite Barbara has never shown discontent with there friendship and Babs really started to like Steph after her Batgirl run. Plus Steph is probably one of the more normal ones of the Batfamily (even though that’s not a high bar)

Bruce however, his baby girl dating his least favorite Robin. The shovel talk would be insane

Bruce: watch yourself

Steph: Watcha going to do, you’ve already Buried me once old man!

Bruce:

Babs: ha

*Barbara and Steph bully Batman*

[novelistwriter]

The Phantoms Family

DP x DC Prompt

Danny had been the Ghost King for a long time now, it's been lonely, his friends and family have passed on when their mortal bodies reached the end of their time, they lived their lives to the fullest, being the happiest they could be, which is why they couldn't stay with Danny, Vlad, Dani and Dan. They all are in their own 'Happily Ever Afterlife', enjoying their Happily Ever Afterlife until they want to be reborn again. The Halfa's can't die, being stuck with an Immortal Body can indefinitely extend the lifespan of them. Sure they have each other, but their lives keep them apart most of the time.

It was during one of Danny's lonely times in the Throne Room when a natural portal opens in front of him, and out comes a 6 year old Bruce Wayne, who stumbled upon the natural portal in one of the less used studies in the Manor, he too was alone, with Alfred doing shopping and his parents out of the Manor doing business.

The two of them bond a bit while Danny searches for the dimension Bruce came from, when Danny does find the dimension that Bruce came from, he sends the boy home, he doesn't expect to see the little boy again. But he's shocked, and a little glad, to see Little Bruce sitting on his throne when he returns from Ghost King business. Bruce had returned through the same portal, feeling lonely again in the empty Manor, wanting to feel the warmth of someone caring for him again.

Over the course of two years, Little Bruce visits Danny regularly, and over time Little Bruce became known as the First Prince to the Ghost King. But when Bruce visits Danny after his parents funeral is when Little Bruce is embraced by Danny for a long time, and over the years, Bruce visits less and less, until he doesn't visit anymore, having left to train to become Batman.

Danny returned to being his lonely self again for many years, having the thought that his Little Bruce abandoned him. He doesn't want to reach out to Bruce, fearing that what he thinks is true.

It's only when another boy is found in his throne room that Danny opens his heart again. Richard "Dick" Grayson stumbled upon the room Bruce used to get to Danny's Throne Room when he was exploring the Manor. Dick spends time with Danny when he gets overwhelmed, has a fight with Bruce, or is feeling lonely. He doesn't tell Danny that Bruce is his adoptive dad, just referring to Bruce as B when he talks about the man. Dick becomes the second prince to the Ghost King, but is more known by his title, the "Joyful Prince" in the Infinite Realms.

When Dick brings Barbara on one of his visits, she and Danny take the time to bond with each other. But eventually, Danny becomes a second Father to Barbara, with Barbara becoming the First Princess to the Ghost King, or better known in the Realms as the "Smart Princess".

When Jason was introduced to Danny, the boy was distant, not trusting Danny, it took awhile for the two to form a bond. Jason enjoys reading in Danny's library and listening to woes of Ghosts he finds, Jason becomes the Third Prince of the Ghost King, but is better known as the "Caring Prince" in the Realms.

When Danny feels the bond he shares with Barbara Flare with so much fear and pain, he manifests himself to her side. Seeing his little girl, bleeding out in her own home with a gunshot wound to her abdomen, breaks his heart. Since Barbara has become a Liminal person, Bruce, Dick and Jason also became Liminals during their visits to him, with her visits to Danny, the ectoplasm that Danny is giving her heals the worst of her injury. He leaves when she's bandaged up and put to sleep in her room, Barbara doesn't become crippled because Danny came to her side when she needed one of her dads in her time of need.

Danny can feel it when Jason dies in the warehouse explosion. He falters in his path when it happened before he abandoned his duties to zoom to where he feels the Ghost of Jason form in the Realms, he can feel the distress coming off of the bonds he has with Dick and Barbara at Jason's bond going silent. He brings Jason's Ghost to his Keep, where they wait for both Dick and Barbara to come.

During the time of Jason's death affecting Bruce, who had become more violent as Batman, Tim is introduced to Danny, it doesn't take long for Danny and Tim to form a bond. It is also through Danny that Tim learns what parental love feels like. This is what pushes Tim to tell Bruce about his living situation in Drake Manor. Tim does learn about Jason's Ghost living with Danny. He tries to get Jason's Ghost to return and talk to Bruce, but Jason isn't ready yet to fave Bruce. He is known as the "Smart Prince" in the Infinite Realms.

During one of the times Danny and Jason are having one on one family bonding is when Jason is ripped away from Danny. Danny frantically searches for Jason everywhere in the Realms, his bond going silent again for everyone. It isn't until Jason's catatonic body is put into the Lazarus Pit that the bond flares to life again, Danny races to the location and takes Jason away from the rotten portal and to his Keep again, where Dick, Barbara and Tim are waiting.

Jason eventually leaves the Keep, being a new Halfa, to be back in the Living Realm, he stays with Dick in Blüdhaven for a bit until he reveals himself to Bruce. Bruce embraces Jason in a hug, tears falling down his faces at the miracle that brought his son back. This prompted Bruce to think he should visit Danny again, but Gotham, Wayne Enterprises, and the Justice League keep him busy.

Stephanie was introduced to Danny when her and Tim dated for a bit. She was skeptical of Danny, but she accepted him as a better father than Cluemaster. She became the second princess to the Ghost King, but better known as "Prankster Princess" in the Realms.

Damian is introduced to Danny by Dick. It takes a couple of years for the two to form a bond. Cujo is one of the reasons why Damian visits Danny, but he does tolerate Danny. Damian became the fourth prince of the Ghost King, but is better known in the Realms as the "Strong Prince."

When Cass is introduced to Danny, it doesn't take long for the two to form a bond, Cass is eager to have more family in her life, she becomes the Third Princess of the Ghost King, but is better known as the "Quiet Princess" in the Realms.

When Bruce got stuck in the Timestream, Danny had been told of it by Tim, who found traces of Bruce in the Manor, this gets Danny to ask Clockwork to help get Bruce out of the Timestream. Bruce only got a glimpse of Danny before he was back into his proper place. Bruce is determined to see Danny again, but he needs to recover and get free time made from the three things that will definitely keep him busy

When Bruce manages to make free time to visit Danny. Darkseid, Brainiac, and Starro attack Earth at the same time.

When Danny feels the bonds of all his children flair with so much distress, he manifests to their location. Seeing them all so beaten and bruised at the hands of others caused him to lash out on Darkseid, Brainiac and Starro, beating them and sending them to Walkers Prison. It's when he turns around and sees Bruce for the first time in a long while, he had been working up the courage to reach out to Bruce after Tim came into his life. He walks up to Bruce, cups the face of the man before him, smiles sweetly and greets his First Prince

"Hello, my Little Prince"

[incorrectbatfam]

Dick and Barbara: *kissing*

Damian: What the actual fuck?! Oh you sick, sick bastards.

Barbara: Listen, Damian—

Damian: This is incest!

Dick: No it's not.

Damian: Yes it is, Richard.

Dick: We're not related.

Damian: Oh and that makes it okay, I suppose?

Dick: Well it makes it not incest.

[everwalldigan]

I’m laughing so hard at this he’s literally just this meme

Bruce seems like the type of dad who cannot comprehend the idea of his children having sex lives. Like one of them will make a crude joke on patrol or something and Bruce will just… blue screen. Because there is no way someone did something like that to his precious baby???

[shyjusticewarrior]

Tim: You've heard of alphabet soup, now get ready for... times new ramen.

Dick: I sent this to Babs and she got so mad at me she sent me an audio recording of her yelling.

[insonniacaotica]

Batfamily damn good ao3 tags pt.4

This is a list of ao3 tags about batfamily that I think deserve to be used more (semi-serious list)

Canon tags:

• Supportive Batfamily (DCU) (It's criminal how little this tag is used) • Stephanie Brown Loves Waffles (Do it for the crack fanfiction) • Alfred Pennyworth is Bruce Wayne's Parent (Not exactly a rare tag but still less than 500 fanfics. And I love it, so...) • Alfred Pennyworth Tries to Be a Good Parent (Here, THIS is a rare tag. Alfred trying, failing and trying again to raise a little Bruce… my heart can't take it) • Tim Drake Has Chronic Pain (Honestly? I'm a bad person) • Jason Todd's Love Language is Cooking (I'm weak for love languages) • Dick Grayson Loves His Family (The fact that it's a tag is so sweet) • Dick Grayson Sings (I will die on this hill) • Bruce Wayne Can't Cook (Canonical, practically) • Unimpressed Damian Wayne (Damian just being Damian) • College Graduate Jason Todd (I'm weak, weak, weak) • Jason Todd's Autopsy Scars (Imagine: you read some fluff and then autopsy scars are mentioned. And you… you cry, what else can you do?) • Bruce Wayne Has Too Many Kids (The fact that it's a canonical tag makes my day better)

Fanon/not yet canon tags (tags that I have used or seen around on ao3 but that are not recognized as canonical tags):

• Jason Todd calls Duke Thomas "Narrows" (I think I made this tag up but in comics it HAPPENS so yes, it's a tag now) • Smart Duke Thomas (Our boy is so cool) • Demon Hunter Bruce Wayne (Okay I'm biased but come on… COME ON) • Robin is magic (I thought it was a canon tag but IT IS NOT) • Workaholic Barbara Gordon (You see why this should be a tag, right? There is also a wfa episode for this!) • Coffee Lover Barbara Gordon (My girl needs her coffee)

[fangedbats]

YESYESYES OMG HOW HAVE I NEVER THIUGHT ABOUT THIS

90s DC Fancast — Gillian Anderson as Barbara Gordon/Oracle

[violent138]

There's a little pop-up on Dick's computer systems for when Barbara decides to go through his files or recently uploaded data. It's all in the name of politeness, she could easily sneak in and out without a trace.

Dick doesn't have the time or the interest to keep working at preventing Babs access. She (usually) doesn't have any malevolent goals and warns him about potential weaknesses in his system, for which he's grateful and they leave it at that.

[why-i-love-comics]

Nothing Butt Nightwing #3 (2024)

written by Patrick R. Young art by Moy R. Marco & Monica Kubina

[rizzanon]

00 | AND SHE CRIED OVER NOTHING

m.list | next

You weren’t supposed to be out here tonight. You knew that very well. The injuries that you sustained from your previous few night patrols hadn’t fully healed yet. Leslie warned you not to go out that night.

Yet you still went out.

Why?

Because you finally had a lead on the drug ring you had been tracking down for who knows how long. And if you didn’t act now, they’ll get away. Again. You couldn’t allow that.

You could have asked for some backup, but that wouldn’t suffice.

Not because you didn’t want help—actually no. You didn’t want help. This was your mission. Your lead. But backup would have been nice. Though you knew no one would come.

Dick? He was busy juggling his duties in Blüdhaven. Even if he wanted to help, his plate was always overflowing, and he wouldn’t drop it all just because you asked.

Jason? Yeah, right. You could already hear his sarcastic laugh if you dared to call him. “Why? Can’t handle it yourself for once?” he’d sneer, probably adding some comment about how this was why you didn’t belong in the field, before handling the whole situation himself. You weren’t about to give him more ammunition.

Tim? He was neck-deep in some case he swore was more pressing than anything else. The last time you’d asked him for help, he’d given you that look—the one that screamed—You can’t do this without me?—before ultimately brushing you off. You didn’t want to go through that again.

Damian? He’d probably make some cutting remark about how you lacked the skills to deal with it on your own. And while he might grudgingly show up, it wouldn’t be out of concern—it’d be just to make sure you didn’t screw up his father’s reputation. Or make things worse to clean up.

Cassandra? She had her own priorities, her own missions that rarely overlapped with yours. And truthfully, you didn’t even think she noticed how much you struggled. She always seemed so focused, so capable. You couldn’t bring yourself to admit how lost you felt in comparison.

Duke? He might’ve come if you asked, but it wasn’t fair to rely on him. He already did so much during the day. You didn’t want to drag him down with you.

And Bruce? Your father? Well. He was offworld with the Justice League. Besides, he never showed up unless it was absolutely critical. And let’s be honest—he didn’t think your leads were ever “critical.”

So you didn’t bother calling. You didn’t want the dismissive tones, the passive-aggressive remarks, or the lingering sense of being an afterthought.

This was your lead. Your mission. And if you didn’t do it, no one else would.

The warehouse loomed in front of you, its shadow stretching long across the damp pavement. Your heart pounded as you slipped into the shadows, your injuries screaming in protest with every movement.

You moved silently through the shadows, the dim light from the flickering bulbs overhead casting long, jagged shapes along the warehouse floor. The stench of oil, dust, and something far more pungent hit your nostrils as you crouched behind a stack of crates, eyes scanning the scene.

A small group of men huddled around a table near the back, laughing, their voices low but unmistakably clear. The bags of white powder scattered across the surface of the table made your stomach churn.

They're pushing more than just drugs this time, you thought.

Weapons, too.

A rough-looking man passed a large duffle bag to another, his fingers brushing the edge of the table. You could see the gleam of a few pistols tucked in the bag, alongside the drugs.

This was more dangerous than you thought.

You couldn't risk waiting for backup-you had to end it now.

You moved, a blur of motion, cutting through the darkness, your body fluid and quiet. The first guy was an easy target—a simple kick to the back of his knee sent him collapsing forward. You grabbed his collar and shoved him into the crates with a muffled thud, silencing his surprised yelp with your fist. He slumped, unconscious before he could make a sound.

Two more men turned at the noise, and before they could react, you were on them, one swift strike to the throat with your elbow knocking the wind out of the first. He staggered back, choking, and you took the opportunity to jab your fist into his ribs-hard enough to knock the breath out of him but not enough to take him down completely.

The second man lunged for his gun. You didn't give him a chance. Your leg snapped out, sweeping his feet from under him. As he crashed to the floor, you were already on top of him, wrenching the weapon from his hand and twisting it behind his back, forcing him to the ground with a grunt.

Three down.

But there were more.

You heard movement behind you. The fourth man was charging. You spun, ducking just in time to avoid his swinging fist. Your foot came up, landing a solid kick to his stomach. He doubled over, gasping for air, but you weren't done. Before he could recover, you snapped your knee into his face— cracking his nose with a sickening crunch. He crumpled, blood pooling beneath his head as you quickly swiped the gun from his belt.

But more men were flooding into the warehouse now, alerted by the noise of the fight.

You dove into the next move, tossing the gun to the side and using your momentum to launch yourself into a roll, just narrowly avoiding a swing from a fifth man. Your leg shot out, sweeping his feet out from under him. As he crashed to the ground, you were already on him, pinning his arm behind his back.

Your breathing was heavy now, muscles straining from the effort, but you didn't stop.

You couldn't.

Another man tried to rush you from the side. You twisted just in time, grabbing his arm and using his own momentum to throw him into a stack of crates. He hit the ground with a crash, dazed. You didn't waste time, hitting him hard with a knee to the chest.

But then, something shifted. You were surrounded. More men had come from the back, the entrance-everywhere.

You counted at least seven now, all armed, all ready for a fight.

Your heart raced, pulse pounding in your ears. You fought harder, faster, but exhaustion was creeping in. You could feel the weight of your injuries dragging on you, slowing your reactions, dulling your reflexes.

One man landed a punch to your side.

Pain exploded, sharp and brutal, as your ribs cracked under the force. You staggered, trying to keep your footing, but then another slammed his fist into your jaw, sending you spinning. Your head whipped to the side, and for a moment, everything blurred.

You barely managed to catch yourself before hitting the floor. Focus, you thought, shaking your head to clear the fog. But it was too late.

Gunfire erupted.

The sound echoed through the warehouse, deafening, sharp. You barely had time to react as the first shot rang out, grazing your shoulder. You cursed under your breath, trying to duck behind a crate for cover. But then another shot-this time, it struck you in the side. The pain was unbearable, like a fire burning through your skin. You fell to your knees, the force of the blow knocking the wind out of you.

You tried to rise, but the pain was too much.

Blood pooled around you, your body screaming in protest as you desperately tried to keep your eyes open.

But it wasn't enough.

Another bullet pierced through your side, and you crumpled to the ground, gasping, your body going cold. Your vision dimmed, the world around you fading into darkness.

Damnit, this couldn't be the end. This couldn't be the way you die.

You gritted your teeth, trying to will your broken body into motion, but it was no use. Your muscles betrayed you, trembling under the effort to even inch forward. Blood pooled beneath you, sticky and warm, and every movement sent a sharp, searing pain radiating through your torso.

Your hand, slick with blood, dragged itself forward, reaching for the comms device tucked at your side. Come on.

Just one call. Someone has to be there.

With a shaky grip, you brought the device to your lips, gasping into it. "H-hello? Anyone... anyone copy? Oracle? Batcave?"

The comms buzzed faintly, then fell silent.

Nothing.

Your heart sank, a cold weight settling in your chest. No one was coming. You pressed the button again, harder this time, as if that would somehow force a response. "Please... anyone..."

Still nothing.

Tears blurred your vision as the reality of your situation hit you like a freight train.

You were dying, and you were alone.

The sounds of movement around you grew louder. The men you'd fought earlier were groaning, pulling

themselves up off the ground. You heard their footsteps, slow and deliberate, growing closer with every second.

You swallowed hard, your breaths shallow. No. No, no, no. This can't be happening.

But then, the distant wail of police sirens pierced the silence, growing louder by the second. The footsteps halted. You could hear hurried whispers, curses under their breath. They weren't going to stick around to get caught.

And just like that, they were gone.

You lay there, helpless, listening to their retreating footsteps echo through the warehouse. The mission was a failure.

The drug ring was slipping through your fingers, and you could do nothing but bleed out on the cold concrete floor.

Your vision blurred further as tears fell freely down your cheeks, mixing with the blood beneath you. You felt hollow, a deep ache spreading through you that had nothing to do with the gunshots.

Flashes of your life played out in your mind, each memory sharper and crueler than the last.

You saw yourself as a child, training relentlessly, throwing yourself into every practice, every drill, every mission. You wanted so desperately to prove yourself.

To make your father proud. To make anyone see you. But no matter how hard you worked, how much you pushed yourself, it was never enough.

You saw the countless patrols where you'd fought harder, faster, and smarter, hoping for even a flicker of recognition from your father or your siblings. But they always moved past you, as if you were nothing more than a shadow in their much larger, brighter world.

Your father's dismissive glances, your siblings' subtle comments, their silence—it all piled up, brick by brick, until you were buried beneath it. And now, you were dying under that weight.

Tears kept falling as another thought crept in, sharper than the rest.

You shouldn't have put on the mask.

You weren't cut out for this life. You never had been. Maybe you were too stubborn to admit it before, or maybe you'd known all along but refused to face the truth. You wanted to be like them-to belong. But maybe you were never meant to.

After all, even your own mother didn't want you.

That thought cut deeper than any bullet ever could. If your own mother had abandoned you, why did you ever think Bruce or the others would be any different?

And then there were your friends.

Adrien and Caitlyn.

The only two people who had ever cared about you, who had tried to stop you from breaking yourself for a family that didn't care. You pushed them away—no, you drove them away. They saw through the cracks in your armor, saw the truth you didn't want to face, and you hated them for it.

You remembered the arguments, the cruel words, the way you shut them out of your life, thinking they didn't understand. You'd been so stupid, so blind. And now? You'd give anything to take it all back. To tell them you were sorry.

What would they think when they found out about this? Would they cry? Would they be angry? Or would they feel nothing at all?

They didn't have to care anymore. You made sure of that.

And then your family...

Would they even care? Would your father see your death as another failure? Would your siblings mourn you, or would they move on, like you were just another casualty in the war they'd chosen to fight?

You'd never know.

At least now, maybe you could finally see Alfred once again.

Alfred… the man who was your family’s butler, and someone who was more of a parental figure to you than your actual father.

Everything changed when he died. God, you missed him so much. Everything was so much harder, so much lonelier without him. At least now, you could finally see him again.

As the world around you dimmed, your thoughts grew quieter, like the fading notes of a melancholy song.

Your chest rose and fell in shallow gasps, each breath weaker than the last.

The pain ebbed away, replaced by a strange, cold stillness.

And with one final, trembling breath, everything went black.

Everything felt peaceful for a moment.

But then, you heard a sound.

The sound was faint at first—a low, rhythmic ringing cutting through the darkness. It didn’t make sense. Everything had gone quiet, hadn’t it? The fight. The blood. The cold, creeping sensation of death. Yet, the ringing persisted, growing louder, sharper. It was unmistakable now. An alarm clock?

Your mind scrambled for understanding as the sound grew deafening. And then—

Your eyes shot open.

You were staring at the ceiling. Your ceiling. The familiar, faintly cracked white plaster of your bedroom greeted you, sunlight streaming in through the blinds. It didn’t make sense. Wasn’t this supposed to be—? No. You were bleeding out in that warehouse, weren’t you? The pain, the hopelessness—it was too vivid to have been a dream. Wasn’t it?

Your heart pounded as you sat upright, your body reacting before your mind could process. Your hands flew to your torso, desperate to find the bullet wounds that had felled you. But there were none. No blood, no pain. Nothing but smooth skin under your shirt.

But something was wrong. Your hands trailed over your arms, your fingers tracing the faint scars you’d accumulated over the years as Batgirl. Only… there weren’t as many as there should’ve been. You froze. Your heart raced as you stood up, scanning your room with frantic eyes.

Things weren’t where they were supposed to be. Some of the posters you’d taken down years ago were back on the walls, curling at the edges like they hadn’t moved in years. Old trinkets and keepsakes cluttered your desk—the ones you distinctly remembered throwing away. And the books you’d obsessively arranged last year? They were still in the chaotic, haphazard piles from years ago.

Panic bubbled in your chest. You turned sharply, catching movement in the corner of your eye—a reflection. Your reflection. In the mirror of your dressing table, you saw a face you barely recognized.

Your hair was longer, falling past your shoulders, untouched by the haphazard trims you’d been giving yourself since your late teens. Your face was softer, your features less defined. The heavy eye bags you’d earned through sleepless nights as Batgirl were faint, barely noticeable.

You stumbled closer, staring at yourself like you were seeing a ghost. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t who you were anymore. You looked… younger. Much younger.

Desperation clawed at you as you rushed to grab your phone from the bedside table. Your fingers trembled as you tapped the screen, and what you saw nearly sent you reeling.

The date on your phone.

Four years ago.

You weren’t 20 anymore. You were 16. Somehow, impossibly, you were back in the past.

just a retelling of this

taglist (open): @tricksters-maze @dusk-muse @quethekillerqueen @silverklaus @isupportorbitalbombardment @nxdxsworld @vanessa-boo @coffeeaddictxd @moonsbluekingdom @yuya-bubbly @percythebitchwitch @anonymousdisco @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @redsakura101 @what-0-life @idkwhattoputhete @secretyouthcomputer @witch-waycult @allycat4458 @dazed-lavender @eclecticfurylady @wizzerreblogs @marsmabe @daddysfangirls-dc @hoeinthehouse @beeweensblog @ilxandra @agent-nobody-knows | ask to be added <3

(idk why i can’t tag some of y’all, must be your settings i think 😓)

[ultimate-marysue]

My personal body headcanons for the Batfam

Bruce: He is a tank made of pure muscle. Like many other users have put forward (recommend especially @frownyalfred posts on the matter), that's not an easy feat to pull off. It is a testament to Bruce's willpower and dedication to Batman that he's even able to maintain it. Also, I think he took really good care of his scars in the beginning so they would be as inconspicuous as possible when sleeping around as Brucie. Once he gets older and leans more into the father persona he stops caring as much for anything that's going to be covered by his suits and shirts.

Barbara: I hated the fact that her disability got completely erased, so that's the first difference. If you want to have her be Batgirl again, you should do what Gotham Knights did and make it so there are lasting effects and limitations. I'm sorry, but it feels so cheap to me that they just erased disability rep cause they didn't know how to write a strong disabled woman. Skill issue. Also Barbara is built like a brick in my heart of hearts, she's a rectangle with the density of a neutron star. I also think she has one of the healthiest and normal diets of the Bats, mainly cause the physical requirements of Oracle aren't nearly as demanding.

Dick Grayson: I'm not going to reinvent the wheel here by saying Dick Grayson has the perfect acrobat's body. My headcanon is that he gets it naturally. Not that he can just do whatever you want, sadly with their line of work you need to meet a series of requirements. I mean it in the sense of 1) proportions 2) really high metabolism from constant exercise since he was a child, probably the fastest tied with Cass 3) he doesn't need to work out as much outside patrol as the rest to keep his body mass. Every single robin after him low-key hates him for creating a fighting style that only he can do effortlessly.

Cassandra Cain: like mother like daughter, my girl is thick. None of that waifish, delicate ballerina shit. She's short and she has muscles most humans haven't heard of. Average goon tries to knock this 5 feet nothing girl only to be met by an unmovable object. Also, probably contender for top most scarred bat of all. She just looks like she could fuck your shit up without breaking a sweat and that's probably because she could. Also I think she has short legs, giving her an even lower center of gravity. She's just a brick wall.

Jason Todd: my man is one of the few bitches in this family with a normal, healthy, percentage of body fat. He's built like a strong man instead of a body builder, and the fact that he can be sneaky with all that mass is terrifying. I think for a minute there he wondered what he was doing wrong and why he didn't look as lean as Bruce. Then he figured what Bruce had to do to keep Batman's body in line and Jason said "fuck that, I'm not doing all that". In his villain self destructive era that waist was snatched, but the second he started taking actual care of his body it did what body's do. Considering how he mixes so many fighting techniques I can see him building his fighting style around his needs instead of the other way around.

Steph: she's the curviest of the Batgirls, which is why she favors so much the "indistinct blob" silhouette. As any woman with a boobs size above an B cup will tell you: people get disgusting really quick. I think part of her struggles with Robin was trying to wrangle her developing body into a fighting style designed for a very naturally lean boy. Balancing is harder when you have a large set of bazonkers, they don't tell you this in the comics but it is the truth. She also lacks the super fast metabolism other Bats have, and I can see her trying really hard to fit in the mold only to realize as she grows older that she can do her own thing.

Tim: I think Tim, growing up as society kid and then forcing himself into the Robin role, never learned what eating healthy is. I headcanon him having some sort of ED (I think he would evolve through a few of them as he grew up), not because I like throwing angst at characters (though I do) but because it makes sense to me giving his background and personality. EDs are not only about "looking thin", but also about feeling in control. Also, Tim hanging onto the Robin title reminds me of child actors trying to force their developing body's to stop at a kid size so they can keep playing their character. I could write a whole post about it, but for what's relevant, the ED headcanon doesn't mean Tim is just super thin. I think his body is fluctuates the most out of any of the Bats, depending on where he's at mentally and age wise.

Duke Thomas: my boy is built for parkour. He's got the longest limbs in the family, he's got the reach. He keeps waiting for puberty to hit him like a train and give him Jason/Bruce levels of muscle mass, but he's just too tall. Like, yes, he can bench press Jason, but proportionally he's so much taller than all of them by then he just looks noodly. When he puts on the body armor though he makes Batman look like a Barbie doll. Anytime he's looming about, Jason accuses him of overcompensating. Duke just pretends to not be able to hear him from up above. Also pls DC give him long hair that floats around him in the same way Batman's cape does?? Pls, just give him magic girl hair that defies gravity.

Damian: I've said this before but this poor child grew up being told he'd one day be as huge as his dad but grows up to be Talia 2.0. I think he does inherit Bruce's height, but is distraught to never be hulking mountain of muscle like OG Batman. Little does he know Bruce isn't naturally that big either, and it's only through frankly unhealthy means he maintained that body. Everyone else agrees to never tell Damian about it so he won't even think to try it, and instead focus on reassuring him he's more than strong enough to inherit the title if that's what's bothering him. It ends up playing in his favor, Cass is proof that you don't need to be huge to instill the fear of God into people. And the way he moves, like a panther stalking his prey, is more than enough to make the rogues quake.