not-so casual batman fan

Rules: keep your ai content/usage away, if you like batcest please don't send/request content of it, always reblog the tws

I HAVE AN OLD DOG AND I'M SCARED OF LOSING HIM STOP SENDING ME ASKS ABOUT DEAD/DYING PUPPERS

Odd One Out (original no pack au)

An Omega Without A Pack (elseworlds)

Some ficlets

Fic links to ao3

Fanarts (gifted)

Humans Are Space Orcs: JL Edition

Miscellaneous

Mini AUs

Getting very irritated at the moment with the swell I'm seeing in joking about suicide again.

Don't get me wrong, as a suicidal person myself I feel it is very important for suicidal people to have the ability to joke about past/present desires or actions, and it is actually (as I have found) a very good indicator of someone's mental health in that moment.

But people that aren't? That have never self harmed, or sat down and planned out how to die, or written notes for a loved one to find, I don't think they should get to joke about killing themselves.

You are trivialising something so serious, and it has somehow become a humorous idea to people en mass.

There is one thing Duke has never shown Bruce, but one early morning in the kitchen, he's not sure he can keep his secret any longer.

Sent 06/12/25. I know that I apologised already but I could not come up with a single idea. Believe me when I say this has caused me intense distress.

Also, thank you @superman-creampieing-batman I have now learnt that bears purr like little helicopters from watching videos of them cuddling.

Unfortunately bear and panther does not seem to be one of the peculiar pairings out there, the closest I got was a bear and a tiger. Which, naturally, was the inspiration for this.

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSQbbSNsh/

Can we have feral bat kids? 👉👈

I will preface by saying composure where? Everyone is losing their shit.

"Sound off!" Barbara orders, a hand pressed to her comm. She has all of her monitors set up, she can see the red dots in her peripheral, but she can't tear her eyes away from her main monitor.

Not when that is the screen where she is watching Batman die.

"Two minutes out," Nightwing pants.

"Turning onto Henel Ave; three minutes." His bike's engine roars, but she switches her attention to the growl of the Batmobile's engine.

"Catching up to Nightwing now, Oracle."

"Red Robin."

"I'll get there."

"Where are you?"

"I'll. Get. There."

"Then fucking hurry," she snaps back.

Bruce arches as another surge of electricity hits him, and Joker's laugh crackles through her headset. It sends a shiver down her spine, and she watches Bruce intently. He's too good to give Joker the satisfaction of the torture, he won't make a noise, but selfishly, she wishes he would. Just once. Something to let her know he's still breathing, the boys aren't too late, she hasn't just lost another person to the Joker.

"Medbay's ready," Duke reports. "Leslie's on the way, Alfred's ready to scrub in, Cass and I are ready to receive Bruce however you bring him in."

"You bring him in," Cass repeats, a demand.

"We will," Damian swears.

Dick's follow-up somehow doesn't feel like a reassurance. Or, not just a reassurance. Given how bad Bruce looks, it also stands to possibly be a goodbye.

"We're not coming back without him."

Barbara watches Joker throw his head back with a laugh, and two thugs lumber into frame, lugging with them—

"Hurry," she orders. "Bruce needs you."

"What's changed, O?"

"Joker has— fuck, I don't even know what it is, but it's clearly... fucking hurry up."

"I'm there, I'm here, where the fuck are you guys?!" Hood yells.

Dick heaves a deep, whistling breath. "Red?"

"I'm here, let's go—"

"Going dark," Damian rasps, and four beeps sound in her ear as they cut off their comm lines.

"Are they gonna make it?" Duke asks, and she presses her fingers to her mouth, watching the masked goons aim the whatever-the-fuck at Bruce's exposed, battered, bleeding chest.

"One bad day," Joker sing-songs. "You never agreed, Bats. Shall we find out whay your birdies think?"

Barbara breathes a sigh of relief as the flash of blue she glimpses in the pixelated shadows.

They made it.

Bruce is safe.

They converge around Joker, stepping out of the darkness to surround him from all sides.

Nightwing holds a glowing baton under his chin, and Joker tinkles a laugh that is cut off by the crackle of electricity.

Previous

The portal closes, and the League immediately casts aside any concept of being professional, groaning and dropping into their chairs in the conference room, casting aside bloodied weapons and resting tired bodies.

Damian is the first to tackle Bruce, disappearing into the folds of the omega's outfit, pressing close with a puppy's whine. Cass tears across the room next, tucking herself into the crook of Bruce's neck, and the room watches Bruce reunite with his hoard of pups, tucking each of them under his chin until he's scented each of them so thoroughly they reek of their father.

Only then does he step back, signalling with a flick of his wrist to jingle the chains, and Clark's hands wrap around each wrist until the metal groans and both cuffs tumble to the ground.

"I spent a lot of money on that suit," is the first thing he says that isn't a soothing coo or sweet nothing into one of the children's ears.

"Shouldn't have gotten kidnapped, then," Harvey grouches, draped lazily in the chair with the Bat's insignia. "Wouldn't've had to ruin it."

Bruce snorts, and the room's attention seems to roll off his back like droplets of water, as he pads barefoot across the room to his mate.

He hops up onto the table with an easy grace, and Harvey scoots the chair forward, leaning into his space.

"Barry," Bruce calls, voice dipping into something softer. "Fetch me a first aid kit, please."

In a blink, it sits on the table beside him, and he nods his thanks.

"'S that femoral?" he checks, nodding to the slice along Harvey's thigh, and the afflicted man peers down at his leg for a moment before shrugging it off.

"Just a cut. Nothing major."

"Better be. Open your shirt."

"In front of everyone? Bruce."

"Fuck off," Bruce laughs, and Harvey's eyes sparkle as he obeys.

The two lapse into silence as Bruce cleans away the blood across his chest, and starts in on the worst cut, slicing deep into his pectoral muscle tissue, and threads the needle to pull it closed.

"Why not break it off? If you've not been together for years, and you had Talia help you hide who your mate was, why not break the bond?"

Bruce pauses at Dick's question, then keeps up his stitches, and Harvey is the one who answers. "You don't need to worry. Your father will never mine again, and we've both known that for years." He pauses, and strokes Bruce's cheek. "But you can't break the bond between Fated Mates."

The room is silent, until Jason's short, sharp laugh cuts through it like a knife.

"You can never do things the easy way, huh, B?"

"You mean the boring way."

Jason smiles sadly. "That ain't always a bad thing."

Bruce shrugs, his discomfort showing in his shoulders. "It doesn't matter. Like Harvey said. We're never getting back together."

Diana leans forward. "Was what I told incorrect? I was informed when I learned of Man's concept of 'Fated Mates' that it is agonising to live without your partner."

Harvey grimaces. "It's not comfortable. But we make do. We see each other often enough at night that it hasn't driven us insane yet."

"You're risking that?" Steph growls. "What the fuck?"

"Well, not by choice," the alpha snaps back.

Bruce growls, a short reprimand, and Steph receives a rather reluctant apology before the conversation moves forward.

"Why take the chance? I get that he's a rogue, but that hasn't stopped you before." Tim braces his hands on the table, studying them like a problem he can dissect.

Okay so I asked for help here and I am dearly sorry that at the point I return to this ask I am being battered by being sick + my antibiotics are being mean with side effects so my original plan of chaos shall be set aside as I simply cannot organise so many holidays while this fucked up.

Thus! Trinity shenanigains:

Jason's finger hovers over the mouse.

On the screen, the cursor hovers over Bruce's medical file. It would be so easy...

"You could've just said you didn't like it if it was that bad," Jason said afterwards. Afterwards, because he wasn't actually that much of an arse, and when he came across the man worshipping the porcelain throne his first instinct wasn't to make it about himself, and he instead kneeled next to him, rubbing his back, flushing the toilet when he slumped aside and wiping off his face like they'd suddenly swapped roles and Jason was the caretaker. It was weird. He doesn't like seeing Bruce so weak.

"Not that," Bruce had gasped, a hand curled into claws over his stomach as he slumped against the wall. "Was nice flavour. You're a good baker."

"That's why you're throwing up?"

Bruce grimaces. "Just something...don't worry about it, Jay."

So Jason had nodded, and pretended to agree, and after Bruce had clapped him on the shoulder and hobbled away, he followed the instinct tugging at his gut and followed it down to the Cave.

It would be so easy to find out why Bruce was throwing up.

So easy....

He clicks the file open.