#headcanon

[oh23]

remember when i said Bruce would forget his kids arre adopted?

imagine the same thing but opposite w damian for some reason.

Damian starts showing interest in medical stuff and Alfred lightly comments, "just like his grandfather," and Bruce hums with a finger on his chin, "Ra's?" and Alfred gives him a look and THEN Bruce realises, oh his father. his side of the family. because he's the dad. for real this time. ohhhhh.

[fckbatmanhiskidsareminenow]

multilingual batkids. they learn each others languages so they can mix and match. for example:

tim in french: have you figured out how we’re gonna tell b we’re not going to that gala yet?

damian in arabic: no i thought that was thomas’ job?

duke french: me? no jason said he’d do something

jason in arabic: hey don’t drag me into this!

dick in romani: i’m gonna kill him i really i am

steph in russian: who are we killing?

dick in english: ah! nobody! wait i didn’t know you spoke romani

tim in greek: you’re an asshole

jason in english: wait my greek is rusty say it again slowly

tim in greek: you’re an asshole

jason: …. you motherfucker

cass signing: nice drawing

damian in chinese: thank you

dick yelling at bruce about something he did

jason in spanish: what language is he speaking right now?

tim also in spanish: uh all of them i think

jason: does bruce even know-

tim: no he doesn’t

[whoracleoracle]

bruce letting duke learn how to drive on the way to school:

bruce: signal.

duke: hm?

bruce: duke, signal.

duke: uh… yeah?

bruce (raising his voice): signal!

duke (gripping the steering wheel): WHAT??

bruce (bracing himself): SIGNAL!!

damian (triple buckled in the backseat): your TURN SIGNAL, imbecile!

later, bruce: i need to start calling it a blinker.

[incorrectbatfam]

Bruce uses his kids' birthdays as passcodes because there are just so fucking many of them that it's not a security risk

[pukefactory]

AUTHOR’S NOTE

I loved the idea that @the-void-via submitted to me so much that I couldn’t help but write some headcanons about it. Shoutout to them for such a unique prompt. Happy reading!

- COMET

•☽────✧˖°˖ PHANTOM PSALMS ˖°˖✧────☾•

★ Summary: A Compilation of Headcanons Featuring Salesperson ENA X War Medic Reader

★ Character(s): Salesperson ENA (ENA: Dream BBQ)

★ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

★ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

★ Image Credits: @JoelG

☆ ENA meets you on a Tuesday. She says it’s a lucky day because Tuesdays are for strategic repositioning and shiny discounts. You tell her you’re not buying anything. She stares. Doesn’t say a word. Her cap tips forward slightly, and you can hear the subtle click-click-click of bullets sliding somewhere unseen, just beneath her hairline. You offer her a bandage instead of a handshake. She takes it. Her fingers twitch like they want to wrap around something tighter.

☆ “I’m not that anymore,” she says, as her shadow glows red with crosshairs. You hadn’t accused her of anything. All you did was say, you look tired. And maybe, just maybe, she is. Maybe ENA was programmed to obliterate entire populations and can no longer remember the difference between routine and remorse. You hand her a coffee instead of a confession. She gulps it like it’s blood.

☆ She doesn’t know what to do with your softness. You speak in triage terms: Here. Let me check. You’re not bleeding, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. ENA hears you and glitches. Her Salesperson side smiles, her Meanie side crumbles. “No one has ever offered me gauze before,” she says. “Usually, they offer…retaliation.” You offer her a blanket. She asks if it’s a trap.

☆ There’s an instance where ENA panics. Real panic, the kind where her claws shake and her mittened hand begins typing something in the air you can’t read. “I’M NOT DOING IT,” she screams, the bullets fall again. You step in front of her. Not to fight. But to triage. “It’s okay,” you say. “If this is what you did…you don’t have to do it anymore.” She looks at you like you just handed her a reason to live. Or maybe just a reason to not die.

☆ You become the only one she listens to. The only one who doesn’t speak in orders. “You have the face of a sergeant,” she tells you one day. “But the heart of mercy.” It’s supposed to be an insult, probably. Her voice glitches halfway through. She looks away. You touch her shoulder and say, “Good. I’ve seen enough of what happens when soldiers forget mercy.” She doesn’t respond. But the megaphones don’t spin that day.

☆ Sometimes you catch her staring at her own hands. Not in awe. Not in vanity. In disgust. Her left palm opens to reveal a cracked metal chamber. Her right fingers are sharp. “I was made to point and eliminate. You were made to stitch.” She says this and doesn’t finish the sentence. You finish it for her: “Then maybe we’re supposed to meet halfway.” She looks at you like you just gave her a new job title: Healer in Training.

☆ She dreams in crosshairs and you dream in tourniquets. One night, the two dreams overlap and she wakes up tangled in a fever. “You were there,” she says. “On the battlefield. But you didn’t shoot me. You…you pressed your hands to my chest and told me to breathe.” You didn’t have the heart to tell her you’ve never been to war. Maybe she just pulled that memory from herself.

☆ “I keep trying to do better,” she tells you once, quiet as a wind-up toy losing momentum. “I aim for the target. I follow protocol. But everyone still looks at me like I killed their world.” You sit beside her on the dusty casino floor and whisper, “That’s because you probably did.” She flinches. “But you’re here now. You didn’t run from the wreckage. That means something.” She doesn’t speak for five whole minutes. Her hat slips down her brow like a salute.

☆ You see it, one day. The flash of her other form. Green cracks. No arms. Jagged mouth leaking color that doesn’t exist in any medical manual. “They made me into a god of endings,” she says. “But you…” She leans in, wild-eyed, “You always begin things. Even now. Look at you—bandages and tea and dumb questions about feelings.” You laugh. She winces like it’s a bullet wound. But doesn’t move away.

☆ When she finally asks what your role was, you hesitate. “I kept people alive,” you say. Not proudly. Just honestly. ENA turns away. “And I kept people from continuing,” she replies. And for a moment, there’s nothing but static. Until you say: “Then maybe it’s time we learn from each other.” She doesn’t reply. But she stops dropping bullets for the rest of the week.

[bats-and-the-birds]

Situation where Clark has formed a tentative working relationship with Batman, but somewhere in that time, Batman acquired Robin and, naturally, didn't tell him.

Clark finds out about Robin's existence when a ten year old Dick Grayson in full Robin gear breaks into his apartment at two in the morning and shakes him awake because Batman's missing and Alfred's away and Bruce taught him that, in the case of emergency, Superman was one of the only people he could trust. Bruce just didn't think to tell Clark that he was, by all means, his son's emergency contact.

Clark: -wakes up to a small boy that he's never seen or heard of before in a cape and a mask with lenses that reflect light like a cat's perched on the edge of his bed in a pitch black room-

Dick, calmly: Hey, Batman's -- stop screaming -- Batman's missing. I need help.

[headcanon-that]

hc that jason todd has an instagram/youtube/tiktok account called gatsbyreviews (named after jay gatsby) where he posts reviews of various fictional media (mostly books). thing is, he always gives the reviews in the tone of a pissed-off drill sergeant explaining something for the third time to a particularly bone-headed group of rookies. so even when the review is positive, he sounds like he's passionately defending it in court. he does all his videos in a hoodie and sunglasses, so his identity isn't clear (especially since any viewers who could have recognized him somehow would know he's, y'know, dead) but the visible scars on the lower half of his face are an endless source of intrigue to people in the comments. someone once asked how tall he was, and he responded with a video of him silently stacking up books until the pile matched his height, then standing next to the pile for several seconds before playing jenga with it and eventually knocking it over, as jenga usually ends up going. another youtuber uses the books to find jason's height (the guy in question is real, his name is shane fanx and he's known as the asian height guy) and when it's revealed that he's fucking 6'3 all his viewers start losing their minds. they talk more than ever about this massive, scarred man with the biteable thighs and passion for literature. he gains thousands of followers overnight, people are thirsting in his comments, and jason's just like "hey wtf have i gotten myself into"

on the bright side, he stops thinking he's the ugliest member of the family. after all, when hundreds or thousands of random people on the internet are thirsting over you without seeing your full face, it's hard to keep thinking you're hideous.

[cybertr0nian]

@indomitablespirits

This was made for a fan community I am working on. If you would like to apply these as headcanons to your own work, go right ahead

All the human stuff is real btw, I have a source linked below that goes into much more detail on the topic.

I was planning on doing the cybertronians body language or anatomy post first but decided to go with this because the info it provides helps with the other two. its also a lot shorter than the other two so I knew I could get it done a lil faster.

Sources I used while making this lore below  

Sources I used while making this lore 

https://www.heartmath.org/research/science-of-the-heart/energetic-communication/■ (had to break the link because tumblr would blacklist my post just remove the cube)

Several Wikipedia Articles about em fields and magnetoreception

[violent138]

Dick knows some shit is hitting the fan in the Batcave when he gets five separate texts telling him that he's getting some help on Blüdhaven this week, and also does his dog need taking care of-- his dog is getting fucking spoiled.

[imaginesleeping]

auntie!sevika headcanons

(bc god forbid a girl misses her favorite found family 😔)

auntie!sevika who stops smoking the second isha comes around so she doesn’t expose her to more toxic fumes

auntie!sevika who won’t admit it but absolutely cherishes the nights she gets to put isha to bed, paying very close attention to figure out what she’s trying to tell her

auntie!sevika who without realizing ends up taking better care of herself now that the kid is around. she eats 3 meals a day, doesn’t get into fights unless necessary, even tries to save up to get an apartment in a better area of zaun

auntie!sevika who now understands why silco would cave and spoil jinx so much

auntie!sevika who’s admiration for jinx grows as she sees her bond with isha

auntie!sevika who will get all excited and talk about isha to you and the crew without even realizing her tone

“Ran, she said NIGHT to me, almost shit myself” sevika told her friend with wide eyes as she recollects what happened just hours before. ran just looks at her and shakes their head, letting out a small chuckle

“Didn’t think you’d be so happy to have a kid around again” they say, getting sevika to roll her eyes, not being able to come up with a response in time to make their statement sound like a lie

-

author’s note: sevika and jinx and isha are together and a happy family and anything else is actually completely false!

if you want, check out the pinned post on my page to give some feedback, any ideas help! i wanna hear them all! thanks for reading :)

[pukefactory]

⋆༺𓆩 LONG TIME NO HEAT 𓆪༻⋆

✸ Summary: A Compilation of Headcanons Featuring Fire Spirit Cookie X Reader

✸ Character(s): Fire Spirit Cookie (Cookie Run)

✸ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

✸ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

✸ Image Credits: @Devsisters

ৡ He doesn’t ask you to follow him. He just glances back from the edge of Dragon’s Valley—molten air warping around his silhouette, cloak snapping in ember winds—and says, “Well? You comin’ or not?” Like it’s a dare. Like if you don’t keep up, you’ll be left behind with the smoke and the stories. (Spoiler: he’d still come back for you.)

ৡ He has a habit of picking fights with beings ten times his size just to impress you. “You see that guy? That guy looked at you weird, I swear.” You sigh. “He’s a mountain.” “A mountain that’s about to get charred.” Later, you patch up the scorched edge of his cape. “You’re lucky I like dumb ideas,” you mumble. He grins. “Lucky me, huh?”

ৡ Fire Spirit Cookie claims he doesn’t do “feelings.” Too soft. Too mortal. But when you’re hurt—even a scratch, even a bruise—his expression goes blank. Not angry. Still. The kind of stillness a wildfire has just before it leaps from the trees. “Who did this?” he asks, voice low and flat. He doesn’t wait for an answer. You’ve never seen the sky so red.

ৡ You once asked him what he really is—what happened before the Red Dragon’s Bead, before the power. He just laughed, flames flaring wild for a second. “Tch. You wanna know what I was before I burned bright?” He paused. Looked at you like no one else had ever asked. “…No one special. Just cold. Cold all the time.”

ৡ He gets jealous in the weirdest ways. Not possessive—more like competitive. You laugh too hard at someone else’s joke? He sets a nearby tree on fire by accident. You say you like stargazing? He tries to burn a constellation into the sky. “What? I’m just making it prettier,” he huffs. His bead pulses warmer when you call him ridiculous and kiss his cheek anyway.

ৡ His idea of romance is flying you through the lava flows of Dragon’s Valley at terminal velocity, cackling while shouting, “THIS IS SCORCHIN’ LOVE, BABY!” You scream the whole way. He has never looked happier. Later, he lets you ride on his back through calmer currents, hair like wildfire around your face. “You alright?” he asks, voice quieter. You nod. “Good. You’re the only one I’d let hold on this tight.”

ৡ When he’s exhausted—when even gods burn low—he finds you. Always. Doesn’t matter if you’re asleep, or halfway across Earthbread. You wake up to the smell of smoke and warmth curled beside you, his head on your lap, cloak strewn like shadows. “Hey,” he murmurs. “Don’t go out, alright? Just… stay warm. Just for a while.”

ৡ He has scars. Real ones. You weren’t even sure fire could scar. You touched one once, and he flinched—actually flinched. “You shouldn’t…” he muttered, pulling away. But when you kissed the burn instead of asking what caused it, he stared like you’d just changed gravity. “You’re dangerous,” he whispered. “You make me want to be seen.”

ৡ Sometimes he flies too close to the edge. Seeks out chaos just to feel something. You’ve had to pull him back more than once. “Why do you care?” he sneers, every time, every time. “You shouldn’t care.” And every time, you do the same thing: take his hand, hold it tight, and say, “Because you’re not just fire, Fire Spirit. You’re light too.” His flames shudder. “Tch… That’s not fair.”

ৡ You’re the only one who’s ever made him hesitate. The only one who could say “Come back” and have him actually stop mid-flight. “…You’re serious?” he asks, hovering over a world he could reduce to cinders. You nod. No flames. No threats. Just you. He lands. Slowly. “…Guess the fire’s not done with you yet,” he says, but his eyes soften. “Guess I’m not.”

[mastemamothpriest]

Sebastian Solace (Pressure), Ena (ena the series) and Ena (dream bbq) are three off the top of my head

You should start headcanoning characters as intersex

[queenbasicallynotbasic]

Headcanon of when Jason (as Red Hood) finally starts working with the BatFam again:

[Bruce, Jason, Tim, Dick in the cave, researching] Bruce: Jason? Tim and Jason: (in a disturbingly identical voice) yeah, Bruce?

Everyone freezes.

Dick's gaze keeps switching from Tim, to Jason, to Bruce.

Jason is breathing deeply and trying his very best to stop his hands from trembling. (He's not particularly successful.)

Tim is very, very still.

Bruce looks like he just killed someone.

(And that's how it's revealed that during the majority of Tim's tenure as Robin, the amount of times Bruce referred to him as Jason was seriously astounding.) (It's revealed that in order to keep the Batman from seriously hurting someone else or himself, Tim had to be a placeholder for a dead Robin.)

(It's revealed that Tim can walk like Jason, he can talk like, laugh like, fight like Jason, better than he can be himself.)

_

Inspired by this post (https://www.tumblr.com/replacement-songbird/781673672670904320/tim-almost-never-sees-bruce-wayne-he-sees?source=share)

[chessboredom]

More old doodles of mama Pioneer.

Been figuring out how to draw mama's hair.

And Shamil too, I guess.

[at4-raxia]

I've been eating up Mark Grayson X reader Fanfictions like a machine: series, one shots, headcanons and so on. But like, a lot of the readers in those are human and I can't help but think about the fact that the both of them, no matter what ending, they are doomed.

I mean, Mark is half alien and that gives him a really long life span. Compared to his, ours is the one of a thraxan.

Imagine the grief, the mourning, the sorrow that doesn't just appear when you die, it comes in your lives way before.

Sometimes you can't easily fall asleep in Mark's arms, you lay awake and look deeply at his face. Something builds up in your chest and your eyebrows furrow. He hasn't changed over the years, but you have: grey hair and wrinkles greet you in the morning as you stand by the mirror, while Mark's face is youthful and his hair is black and luscious.

You don't know if you should be angry at your humanity or at his alien heritage that will keep him alive in this world far longer.

In the deep of the night you wish he hadn't fallen in love with you, because it was selfish. You know Mark, you know how much he loves you, how much he will grieve.

Yet it's too late to go back, too late to not accept his shy invite on a date as the both of you are freshly out of highschool, when life was easier.

It's selfish to hope that he will love you even centuries from now on, so while deep down you want him to love you forever, you wish he will move on and find someone else that can keep him just as happy.

Mark tries to ignore the signs, you can call it denial I guess. At first he hadn't thought about this, he didn't really notice the grey hair, he saw some wrinkles here and there but nothing that made the alarms in his head ring. What really made him aware of your ageing was the frailness that came with it, the way you stopped going outside with him in fear of being judged due to the big age gap in appearance.

I think that Mark will mourn and if he moves on it's up to you, even though I don't think he would, especially if you have children (even worse if the kid looks a lot like you, even if the viltrumite genes are strong as hell).

Like imagine he remarries after your death and yet everything just reminds him of you, bonus points if your children don't like his new wife, lol.