helluo librorum

-

*the JLA holding a super important strategy meeting in the batcave*

Batman: -the main priority is to ensure the safety of the surrounding area even in the case of a fight, so we’ll have people stationed around the perimeter just in case. Hood, can you grab me the signal flares from the store room? you’re closest.

Red Hood, walking over: *grunts*

Batman: *continues to explain his plan as in the background Jason walks into the store room, pauses, and then promptly walks right back out*

Red Hood: *sweetly, from the doorway* Robin?

Robin: mm?

Red Hood: would you like to go into the store room for me? my darling, favourite brother-mine?

Robin:

Robin, eyes half-lidded: is there a spider in there?

Red Hood: maybe.

Robin, sighing in exasperation as he starts walking over: you really need to start trying to deal with these yourself, Hood. you can’t call me every time-

The Flash, watching Damian emerge with a small spider in the palm of his hand while Jason refuses to come out of the corner of the cave: doesn’t that guy chop peoples heads off sometimes…?

-

*Aquaman, on a mission with Nightwing and Batman, on a platform in the middle of the ocean*

Aquaman: if you have your rebreathers then you can follow me down, it’s not too deep a dive to the site.

Nightwing: *staring into the water* mhm.

Batman: *watching Nightwing in amusement*

Aquaman: …Nightwing, are you ok?

Nightwing, still staring: oh- hm? yep. yep, i’m good. i’m- yeah. lets go. lets do this.

Aquaman:

Batman: he has thalassophobia. he doesn’t like deep, empty waters.

Aquaman:

Nightwing: *staring down*

Batman: *faux shoves Dick forward, as if to push him in*

Nightwing, shrieking and jumping back: bRUCE- I TOLD YOU NOT TO DO THAT-

-

Superman: the victim’s in that room, if you need to examine the body.

Red Robin: got it, thanks.

Red Hood: so what actually happened to the guy?

Superman, as Tim leaves: well, it seems like the virus infects the mind and causes intense delusions. we think he was driven crazy and ended his own life. it’s… not pretty in there. he stabbed himself in the eye with a pencil.

Red Hood: *whistles* *pauses* wait. in the eye?

Superman: yeah. why?

Red Hood:

Red Robin: *slams out of the other room, falls to his knees vomiting*

Superman:

Red Hood, watching Tim calmly: yeah he’s got this thing about things in peoples eyes?

Superman:

Superman: really?

-

Green Arrow: shit, that’s a nasty scratch you got there, Bats. right across the eye, too.

Batman: *grunt*

Green Arrow: who’d you fight to get it?

Batman: Robin.

Green Arrow:

Green Arrow: Damian did that?

Batman: hn.

Green Arrow: …why?

Batman: he had a cavity and i had to take him to the dentist.

Green Arrow:

Batman: he’s scared of the dentist.

Green Arrow: wasn’t he raised by the league of assassins?

Batman: he’s scared of the dentist.

Dick's fondest memories of childhood is the hot chocolate he used to drink every winter. He thought Alfred had always made it for him, because Alfred had always been the one to give him a mug of it, but the year after Alfred dies Bruce hands him a mug and Dick bursts into tears right then and there. "You know his recipe?" he sputters, through snot and a lump in his throat. Bruce pauses, considers briefly and dismisses the thought of telling him the truth. "Of course, chum." He lies, because Alfred wouldn't have known where to start in making hot chocolate, that sort of drink was beneath him. "I'll teach it to you."

Jason's favorite feeling in the world is slipping on a freshly ironed shirt. It's fucking fantastic. The greatest thing ever. He loves it so much. He used to watch Alfred do the laundry because he knew ironing was a part of it. Alfred never ironed a thing in his life. Bruce did all the ironing in the house. It soothed his mind to do it, to watch the wrinkles smooth out, to see the mistakes go away with just a little bit of water, heat and pressure. Jason comes to the Manor after a rough patrol and snaps 'where's Bruce?' and Tim points wordlessly to the laundry room. 'doing laundry? yeah right." Jason scoffs, and slams the door open only to find Bruce actually ironing. His shirt. "What are you doing?" He barks, and Bruce looks up, surprised. Like... genuinely surprised that someone is questioning the fact that he's ironing. "I'm... ironing?" He questions, and Jason snorts, snag his shirt and tosses it over his shouldr. "Yeah right. You lose a bet or something, old man?" Bruce debates for a moment, dismisses, and smiles at his son. "It can wait to be fulfilled. Hungry?"

Tim loathes cucumber sandwiches with his whole heart, but his parents staff used to do this thing where they'd put zuccini in the sandwiches in the center just for him. He told the story once to Bruce, and Alfred was in the room with them, and the next time he reached for a cucumber sandwich on the table, it was zuccini. He was elated. Alfred never bought zuccini. Never cooked it. He listed it amongst the top five worst gourds to exist. He never knew there were zuccinis hiding amongst his cucumbers

Steph had this one specific spoon that she loved eating with whenever she was at the Manor, and it was always polished to perfection everytime she needed it. She'd seen Alfred polishing and had been forced to polish utensils as a punishment enough times to assume that he'd just been doing it. When Bruce finally passed, he left the rag he would polish her spoon with and the spoon to her in his will. "I'm sorry I can't do it for you, anymore, but at least I taught you how to do it yourself."

Damian walks into his room to find Bruce bent over his shelf with a feather duster, meticulously cleaning his room for him. "What are you doing?" He barks, sharp and harsh. Bruce straightens, turns to him in surprise. "Damian! You weren't supposed to be home for another few hours!" "Only Pennyworth is allowed in here to clean." Damian says stifly, crossing his arms. Bruce raises an eyebrow. "I thought you said we're only allowed in to clean, unless you give permission otherwise. It's your room, Damian. I will respect your privacy." "Yes but-" Damian begins, and then stops. He'd said they could only go into his room to clean because thats what had happened in the League. Unimportant people, the servants, had cleaned his stuff. It didnt matter to him if they saw it because... they didnt matter. He'd thought... he'd assumed Pennyworth would- not... Bruce smiles.

bruce gets so embarrassed once he’s back in his own body, but what he doesn’t know is that the kids all fight over who gets the comfort of Papa Bat cuddles.

Gonna start the new year with babygirlifying him to the max!!

—🌸🐁

Thank you, Cote

Dick throws his wingding, watching it thud into the target.

"Go back to sleep, chum. It's just Dick."

Again.

"Go back to sleep, chum. It's just Dick."

Again.

"Go back to sleep, chum. It's just Dick."

Again.

"Go back to sleep, chum. It's just Dick."

Again.

"Dick."

"Leave it alone, Bruce."

He doesn't turn to look at the man that raised him, stalking to the target to yank them out of the wood and start again. Bracing a hand on the target, he grasps them by the body, feeling them poke at him through the reinforced gloves he'd barely remembered to yank on.

He still doesn't meet Bruce's unwavering gaze on his way back to his mark, then turns his back on him, once more.

"I didn't know you would mind."

The wingding goes wide, clattering to the floor in the darkness of the unlit portions of the Cave. He pants, staring after it, something dark and ugly whispering in his ear, louder than it has been at any point since he left Gotham a year ago.

It's not... it's not Jason's fault. He can't blame him. Bruce is the one that took in another child. Bruce is the one that has changed. Bruce is the one that—

"Why wouldn't I mind?"

He throws another wingding. His shoulder burns with the force, and the thud as it slams into the target is loud enough to cause a flurry of screeches from the bats above.

Dick has been set on fire. It doesn't compare to the heat of Bruce's eyes on him, branding the back of his head with his silent attention from across the Cave.

He throws another one to distract himself, and it thuds directly into the centre of the target, fitting perfectly into the well-worn groove from his precise aim.

"You left."

"And that's that? I'm gone, so you take my home, my mother's name, my name, and give it to some other kid?"

"It's still yours, Dick."

Bruce doesn't flinch as the wingding drives into the rock nrxt to his head, meeting Dick's glare steadily.

"Then act like it," he hisses.

The words travel fine across the suffocating silence, and Bruce's lips pull down. His mouth opens, but Dick holds up a hand.

"I left Gotham. You told me—for years—that I could never leave this family. Were you lying?"

"No, Dick—"

"Were you lying?"

"No. You are my son."

"And you are my Bruce." You are so much more. Words cannot encapsulate who you are to me, and you replaced me like it was nothing. "So try again." He smiles, the smile Gotham's streets have learned to fear, the same lesson he is now teaching to Blüdhaven. "Who am I?"

So caught up in their eye contact as he was, Dick did not realise the reason behind it's intensity increasing: their proximity doing the same.

Bruce reaches out, up, reverently cupping Dick's cheek between calloused palms. "You are my chum."

Dick lifts the final wingding, holding it so the tip brushes Bruce's bobbing adams apple. "Don't ever forget it."

The wingding clatters to the floor, and Bruce is already moving to catch him as Dick leaps up, wrapping around him.

"I won't," he promises, kissing the words into his hair as Dick plasters himself close.

"Good." There's no force behind his voice anymore, it trembles, and he squeezes his arms tight enough around Bruce's neck he could probably knock him unconscious. "Good."

He is not 'just Dick'.

He is Bruce's chum.

Ship Warning! - JLA x Batman

I am a big fan of those fics or posts about the main 7 (6 in this case) pinning and swooning over Batman.

Especially when Batman is involved, or had previously been involved, with one of the JL members, and said JL member brags about it.

Batman and another member kissing, it’s cute, it’s romantic, and it’s dangerous. While Batman’s eye’s are closed, 6 eyes are open, glaring at the lucky one. I lent death threats being exchanged within seconds.

Depending on who it is, the luck-favored member either feels a cold sweat down their back, or my favorite, extremely smug about it. Maybe they’ll flex their hand around Batman’s waist to show off, or perhaps they’ll give them a cocky wink before using their tongue. It makes the other JL member’s blood boil.

Jason met Batman in that alleyway amidst his attempt at theft. Tim was invested in Batman first before he knew the person under the cowl. Cass knew the mission before the family, the knight before the man. Damian had been raised with stories of the Bat specifically and recognized the legend before his parent. Barbara imitated the Batman's shadow before outgrowing it. Stephanie trusted Batman before/more than she trusted the man behind it. Duke had been raised with the stories of Batman, knew him first before knowing who he truly is.

Dick though?

The first encounter he ever has with Batman is as Bruce Wayne

Bruce who cared not about Dick being a stranger and the larger case unfolding around them, and just saw a child crying and surrounded by his dead guardians, and thought "This is what I was made for" before coming to help him

Omg, so awful of him to not want people to kill others. To care about life. Anyway, can we get some sources of him "forcing" others to follow his no-kill rule?

"Once Dick killed the Joker and Bruce revived him."

Yeah, because Dick would have kill himself if he had stayed a murderer. He hated himself so much after. Bruce saved the Joker to save Dick.

"Well, he forces Jason."

THE CRIME! A FATHER DOESN'T WANT HIS SON TO BE A MURDERER! Quick, go ask your parents how they would react if you decapitated 8 guys, how they would feel if you started murdering people. And don't smother things with "but they are bad people" because Jason murdered many goons, people who would never have been served the death penalty. Call me back after.

I had an idea for this but the draft didn't save so I Ieft it in petty anger and now I can't remember the idea 😅

Talia stirs to the mattress tipping, and rolls her eyes without opening them. "Good morning, Richard," she grumbles, faceplanting into her pillow. It can't be later than two in the morning.

"Bruce. Bruce."

Talia knows Bruce is usually awake before his pup has even step foot through the door, and is quietly smug at her beloved feeling safe enough in her presence to sleep deeply. It also amuses her how irritated the pup is.

Rather than laugh at him, Talia worms an arm out of the blankets, and grabs Bruce's face. Wiggling it side to side earns her a lick to her palm, which she wipes on his head. "Your kid's here, wake up."

Bruce sits up, forgetting about getting payback, and Talia's hand flops back to the bed, quickly crushed as Bruce reaches out, gesturing Dick closer, and the pup sits on her arm.

"Ow," she mumbles into her pillow, and jabs her nail into his thigh, prompting him to drop his weight even more.

"B," Dick whimpers. "I had a nightmare."

He did not. When Dick has a nightmare he comes in with a tear stained face, if Bruce wasn't already summoned by his screams, and he doesn't even try to fight Talia's presence, just curling up to Bruce's side.

No. This is the pup that cried wolf, and Talia has a feeling he'll probably fart on her arm.

"Did you?"

Bruce isn't stupid. Her beloved is brilliant. But he also loves his pup more than anything, pulling the nearly-presented boy closer to wrap an arm around him, not going to risk a rejection if the pup isn't lying. Which he is.

"'Bout last month."

Robin was kidnapped by Ivy, and nearly eaten by carnivorous plants. It was a narrow save. She held Bruce through his panic attack hours afterwards, while Dick slept just inside the room Bruce refused to stray from.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. What do you need?" Bruce's tone, tired as it is, is distinctly amused. They both know Dick is faking, and he knows they know. He also knows it doesn't matter.

"Can we go to the nest?"

Bruce presses his lips to the pup's head, and hugs him close. "Sure, pup. I'll be there in a few minutes, why don't you make sure everything's perfect?"

"Thanks Bruce," he mumbles, still pretending to be sad, and Talia coughs into her trapped arm.

"Liar."

"I'll go do that!" he yelps, talking over her, and scrambles off the bed, not taking any care to avoid knocking into her with his dash away.

The door closes behind him, and Bruce slumps back onto the bed, rolling closer to her with a soft smile. "He didn't sit on your hair this time?" he offers, and she rolls her eyes. "I'm sorry, darling."

"It's cute," she dismisses. "In a very annoying, very inconvenient way."

"I'm sorry, Alpha," Bruce simpers, looking at her through his lashes, and she narrows her eyes at her omega.

"And I see where he gets it from."

Bruce drops the act with a laugh, reeling her closer, and presses their lips together, decorating her face with affection.

"I am sorry. I'll talk to him."

"Ay, beloved." She taps his nose. "You need all the quality time you two can get." There's been tensions growing between them since his fifteenth birthday, as Bruce's pup grows into more. "I can cope with an empty bed."

"I'll make it up to you." He draws her into another kiss, long and deep, and she strokes his cheek when they eventually part.

"I'll hold you to that. Now go, or he'll start crying."

Bruce grins at her and rolls off the bed, making for the door. She's not blind that Bruce also enjoys the nights Dick gets possessive and hoards the omega away. Talia thinks their courtship restarting might be one of the best things for her beloved's relationship with his pup.

can we have some wholesome or angsty, up to you possessive son dick grayson

It has been a long week.

I love my family, I love my family, I love my—

"I'm the obvious choice."

He hates his family.

Dick pinches the bridge of his nose, blowing out a slowwwwwww breath. He can do this. He's sat through this debate dozens of times. He's partipated in good humour! He can do it again. He can entertain their ridiculous notions again.

Yeah.

He can do this.

"Fool, Timothy. I am Father's best partner."

He's going to kill his family.

Jason leans back in his chair. "I wouldn't know about that, kiddo. Before I died Bruce and I were one hell of a team."

Tim scoffs, Damian laughs, and Dick bullies down the rising anger in his chest. It's a harmless debate. There is no need to go nuclear.

"We best. I know him." I know him better.

"Come onnn, Cass," Duke drawls. "You want to get involved in this dick measuring contest?"

She smirks. "Mine's bigger."

Steph snorts, tipping to the side as she's wracked with laughter, and objections explode from Dick's brothers, scandalised voices layering over each other.

"AN-Y-WAY," Duke forces, bringing the room back down. "What if I threw my hat into the ring? I mean, B's practically obsessed with me. Imagine what it'd be like if I was a Robin?"

"Excuse you. Batgirls are great partners too." Barbara crosses her arms. "Not to mention, Batman is nothing without Oracle."

The shouting starts back up again, Steph joining in with an awfully amused, half-assed attempt at mediation, and Dick decides it's best if he left.

He doesn't quite make it to the door.

"Come on, Dick, what say you?" He doesn't get the objection to object, as the pressure layers and layers with half a dozen voices, until what he didn't want to happen finally happens, and he snaps.

"You think any of you are Bruce's best partner?" He laughs. "Compared to me? I redirected the entire course of Bruce's life. I redefined who he was at his core. I introduced the idea of partnership to a man determined to bleed out alone in an alley he didn't thirteen years before. Without me, Batman would be nothing more than a rumour of two blessed yars with less crime, before that perculiar murder case of the man in such a strange suit, and Gotham became even worse as it is wont to do.

"I was eight and fighting alongside Batman against gods, monsters, Rogues, on the same level as the Justice League. I was the first sidekick, the mould for every one since was taken from me, the human that paved the way for metas, mutants, and aliens under Bruce's wing.

"You think you can claim to be Bruce's best partner? No. You think you can claim to be his best Robin?" He chuckles again. "Robin is mine. Robin did not come from the Wayne house, it came from the Grayson's tent. You can wear the suit, you can redefine what being Robin means for you, you can bear the name, but you will never be me. You will never be the child that swore an oath to protect this city in the bowels of the city, and took to the streets by Bruce's side.

"He taught me everything he knows. You will never learn all of that, because it is inhumane, it pushes you to the very limits of what the human spirit can endure, and he will not let you. But I know all of it, we match down to our core, we are one when we descend upon Gotham. Bruce does not lead the Justice League, yet he had designated me as its future leader, and that has been cemented by its leaders because they know who I am. They know I am Robin, I am Nightwing, I am the product of Bruce's best efforts, I carry his legacy as I forge my own, and I will lead the greatest culmination of heroes our world has ever seen because of who he has moulded me into. I am Bruce's best partner."

The room is silent when he finally stops, and he casts a look across the room, taking in their shocked faces, and spins of his heel, stalking out of the room.

For dramatic emphasis, the universe perfectly times the door falling closed, the heavy oak slam punctuating his exit.

"Dick."

He startles, finding Bruce sat on a chaise just outside the door. "You were listening to the debate."

Bruce's lips tilt up. "I make a habit of it. They're very revealing." His analytical eyes pin Dick in place. "Some more than others."

Dick refuses to apologise, and bares teeth in a tight smile. "Did I say anything wrong?" He steps forward, and Bruce stands to meet him, face giving nothing away. "I came first. I came out best. I am your greatest pride, you have said so yourself. I love my siblings, Bruce, and you can take in as many as you want, it does not matter, it won't change that I had you first. It was me and you for ten years. You are my dad. You are mine."

Bruce's brows pull in, and Dick stubbornly doesn't lean into the grazing touch cupping his jaw. Deep, blue eyes bore into his own, and he lays his conviction bare.

Bruce leans in, and presses his lips to Dick's temple. "You have had a very long week in Blüdhaven. You would keep this all locked up very tightly if you weren't on your last straw." Dick grumbles, wordless, and an arm slides over his shoulder. "We'll hog the cinema room, alright? Give your siblings time to cool off."

Bruce starts walking, and Dick turns into him, picked up instantly because Bruce knows him just as well as Dick knows him. "It's alright, sweetheart."

Dick buries his face in his shoulder, and feels the adrenaline of his shouting crash as he's finally safe, held close and bobbing softly with Bruce's every step.