bat patrol

Batman headcanon that while typing in a group text format, Jason accidently misspells ‘Bruce’ and types 'Bryce’ as in “I’m meeting up with Bryce later”. Bruce, being the doornail that he occasionally is, asks who Jason’s friend Bryce is. And Jason, being the shit that he is, just goes with it and thus the completely fictional family friend Bryce is born. He is pulled out whenever the kids need an excuse or are trying to get out of doing something. No matter how much the siblings fight, they will always, always, confirm with Bruce or Alfred that Bryce is real and said sibling is really with them.

Of course it gets to the point where Bryce becomes not only more developed but also becomes a projection of all the things the kids wish Bruce would do with them.

“Sorry B, Bryce and I are going out for coffee, we’re going to be discussing our emotions and airing out all of the troubles we’ve had over the years and reconcile once and for all and assure the other that we love and care for them”

“Don’t wait up Bruce, my friend Bryce is helping me with the technology on my computers because unlike some people he values my tech expertize and leadership as more than a disability and doesn’t treat me like a secretary.”

“Ya I’m meeting up with Bryce cause he actually gives a damn about me and he’s gonna murder the Joker for me and then stop replacing me with 10 year olds :)”

“Bryce and I are going to hug, for like, an obscenely long time. I will probably cry big ugly tears that I deserve after all the shit I have been through. It’s ok though because Bryce is emotionally available and let’s me express weakness without the fear rejection.”

“Bryce is teaching me to read, because you won’t.”

“Nah, I can't patrol tonight Bats. Bryce is taking the time to train me himself, not as a replacement or a novelty, but to actually give me some goddamn support and respect and treat me like all the other boys you took in.”

“Bryce is buying me 12 dogs because he loves me.”

Bruce, of course, doesn’t quite get the exceedingly obvious, passive-aggressive hints and just asks Alfred why he’s never met this Bryce character. Alfred just rolls his eyes and tries to think of a way to convey the children’s legitimate complaints in a way that even the oft obvious batman can understand.

anonymous asked:

Hi. Could you write more Jason-centric Hurt/Comfort? I really enjoyed your previous fic in which Jason has pneumonia. So I was wondering if you are willing to write more sick!Jason with respiratory illness? Like, he has bronchitis on top of abdominal wounds so every time he coughs (and he coughs A LOT), it's extremely painful for his wounds (also his chest hurts and coughing sucks). And Batfamily try to take care of him during his recovery.

I hope this is to your liking anon :) Sorry it took so long to get done, Jason was being very stubborn about accepting care from his family…

The gash across his stomach alone wouldn’t be a problem; it’s far from the worst injury he’s sustained. But of course he doesn’t just have an abdominal wound because his body likes to be really - what’s that word Tim is always throwing around? - Extra™ about punishing him. For what, he has yet to figure out. Alfred seems to think it was going on patrol while he had (what he thought was) a mere cold. But that couldn’t possibly be it. Must be because of all those cardinal sins Bruce is so disappointed he broke (like the man himself is such a damn saint).

Although, in hindsight, maybe the fever did have a little bit to do with it because apparently he’d gone out without his armour, just in the leather jacket and a long sleeved shirt which, in his defence, does kinda look like the Kevlar-reinforced one he usually wears as the Red Hood. Jason is sure he checked that he was properly outfitted before leaving his apartment (through the door apparently, which, yeah, he’s starting to see how the fever might have been a little higher than he thought and messed with his decision making a little more than he remembers) but the whole night is hazy in his memory. He can accept, begrudgingly and only in his mind, that the version of events Tim and Alfred retell is probably correct.

He’d been surprised to wake up in the Cave. Even more surprised to see the Replacement slouched over a tablet beside the bed, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else but stubbornly not moving in a way that probably meant Alfred had ordered him to keep an eye on Jason. (Or he was worried, which, weird. It was only an unlucky slash across his abdomen.) Then Jason had tried to speak and any surprise had vanished beneath the fire that ignited in his chest.

Tim’s head had snapped up immediately, wide eyed and so damn concerned as he stuttered through some soothing bullshit about being okay and calming down and just breathing. Easy enough for him to say; he’s not the one who’s entire body from waist up is protesting every incremental movement with agonising pain.

(“You’re being dramatic.”

“You wanna swap places and see how fucking dramatic you are when even breathing hurts?”

“I’ve had bronchitis before, Jason. It sucks but it’s not that bad.

“Oh yeah? And did you have thirteen stitches across your stomach at the same time?”

“You know, maybe if you stopped complaining and got some rest you’d feel better.”)

All Jason wants is to curl up beneath two or three blankets - preferably one of those fancy electric throw rug ones - but, unfortunately, curling up isn’t exactly possible. Not without pain. Stupid fricken knife wound.

And Alfred probably wouldn’t give him an electric blanket anyway because apparently his fever is “worryingly high”. Whatever that’s supposed to mean. Surely if his body was trying to bake his brain, he wouldn’t feel so dann cold all the time? There had been brief warmth when Titus had got into the Cave and jumped onto the bed with him, but Alfred had put a stop to that real quick.


There’s an oxygen tube irritating his nose and a pulse oximeter clamped around his finger. He suspects its more so Alfred will be alerted if he tries to leave than for any actual medical necessity. He’s not that badly hurt.

(He’s stubbornly not including the severe case of bronchitis Alfred had informed him he had. With his disapproving eyebrows and everything. It’s not fair how that man can make Jason feel guilty about things that aren’t even his fault.)

“When can I get outta here?” he asks.

“If your vitals remain stable, you can move to one of the guest rooms upstairs at the end of the day,” Alfred replies.

Which they both know isn’t what he actually meant but. Whatever. Nobody argues with Alfred. Jason is just glad he didn’t suggest moving into his old mausoleum of a bedroom.

Even with the painkillers Alfred is pumping through his system, coughing really fucking hurts. And it feels like he’s constantly coughing.

“You should drink some more water,” Dick says after a particularly bad fit that has his muscles aching and his eyes stinging with tears he refuses to shed.

“You should fuck off,” Jason rasps, so not in the mood to deal with Mr Sunshine’s mother henning. It’s approaching midnight and he’d been looking forward to the peace and quiet and lack of suffocating caring while all the Bats were on patrol, but Dick, out of the goodness of his oversized heart, had decided to stay back and keep his little brother company. No amount of grouchiness and swearing have managed to drive him away yet.

Dick’s face falls a little, settling into an expression somewhere between subdued and downcast, which is so not fair because Jason knows that he knows that Jason wasn’t being serious. Well, not completely serious. His brother’s company (and the laptop and movies he’d brought with him) has actually been a mostly pleasant distraction from the itch in his lungs and the pinch of his stitches every time he moves too much. But Jason has a reputation as an arsehole that he needs to maintain. He can’t just go around reciprocating mushy feelings with other mushy feelings.

He sighs. Grumbles, “Okay, fine, I’ll drink the damned water. Just. Shut up yeah? You’re almost tolerable when you’re quiet.”

Dick’s answering smile is so soft and fond and fucking loving that it makes his chest ache for reasons entirely unrelated to bronchitis.

But that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to blame the damn bronchitis anyway.

Someone pauses outside his door and Jason knows who it is without even thinking about it. He can imagine the pensive frown carved into a tired face, the hand hovering over the doorknob, the silent sigh. Then the steady beat of footsteps moving further along the hallway.

Restless and sore and craving a distraction from his own scattered thoughts, Jason makes a snap decision and rolls out of bed, landing with a much-too-loud thump on the hardwood floor. The whole movement is uncoordinated and clumsy and it makes his abdomen scream and triggers another round of dry, chesty coughs (what doesn’t these days?). So by the time he stumbles across his bedroom to the door, it’s already opening, Bruce’s brows furrowed with concern as he sticks his head in.


“I’m fine,” Jason says immediately, pretends it’s gruff dismissal instead of the hasty reassurance that it is. He’s not entirely sure why he was suddenly so desperate to see Bruce when he’s been avoiding him most of the week Alfred has had him coupled up in the Manor (most of his new life, even) and now that they’re face to face words stick behind his teeth. He runs his tongue along cracked lips. Asks, “How was patrol?”

“It was fine.” Bruce is still frowning a little, still worried, hand tightening on the doorknob because he wants to reach out but he’s sure Jason will just shrug it off. “What are you doing up?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I was just.” Jason rubs his chest, hopes it will quell another cough. “I don’t know. I heard you walk past. I thought.” He coughs into his elbow. Shrugs. He has no real reason for being out of bed except that his irritated chest was keeping him awake and his abdominal wound was keeping him from getting comfortable. And maybe Bruce pausing outside his door made him remember when he was a kid and he used to check in on him before going to bed. And maybe it made him miss it. Just a little bit.

Bruce nods, as though the stilted answer made any sense, and then he offers, cautious and hopeful and, goddamit, fatherly, “Would you like a cup of tea?”

Jason opens his mouth to say yes, a cup of tea would be lovely on his sore throat, just what he needs to relax his body enough to maybe get some sleep. But then his mind flashes to memories of being younger, of sitting on a stool wiping tears away with his pyjama sleeve, of Bruce setting a mug of camomile in front of him and telling him that he doesn’t have to talk about the nightmare, but if he wants to he’s here to listen. Memories of comfortable silences turned awkward except not really because they don’t even spend enough time alone together for there to be silences anymore. And he steps back, turns toward his bed, says “no thanks, I’m going to try get some sleep”, because he’s an arsehole and he doesn’t want Bruce’s worry or love or care.

Doesn’t deserve it.

The door clicks shut and Jason pretends that he doesn’t notice the long pause (the pensive frown, the hovering hand, the silent sigh) before Bruce walks away.

“Don’t be stupid next time.”

Jason rolls his eyes, shoves another freshly-laundered shirt in his bag, checks that his wallet and phone are still in his pocket so he doesn’t have to meet Cass’s gaze. Of all the Bats, she’s the one who manages to make him feel guilty about not making more of an effort to do the bullshit happy-families crap instead of just feeling irritated like he does whenever the others bring it up.

“Thanks for the advice,” he retorts sarcastically. “I’ll make sure

"Hey,” she grabs his arm, forces him to turn around and look at her, pokes a finger against his chest because - and this is one of his favourite things about Cass - she’s not afraid to fight dirty. “Take care of yourself. Or we will.”

Jason winces. Partly because his chest is still a bit sore and she pokes hard, but mostly because he knows that’s a promise as much as a threat. “Okay, okay. Jesus. Fine.”

Cass nods, satisfied, then steps back and smiles. Small and beautiful and gentle and overflowing with compassion. If Jason had to have someone looking out for him, he reckons he probably couldn’t do much better than her. And since he’s being sappy and sentimental, he can admit that the rest of them aren’t too bad either.

But that doesn’t mean he’s not glad to finally be getting out of the Manor and going back to his safehouse to finish recovering in peace.

the new addition | part three // batfam

Notes: I have realised that in this story, since the reader is a year or two older than Damian, I won’t introduce him just yet. It’s just so much more interesting for him to enter the household after the reader does, and then we can see how our darling sass god reacts around her. Sorry!


Warnings: mentions of abuse

Word count: 2,910


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anonymous asked:

My best friend's brother is a state trooper. My friend was driving home late one night when a cop pulls him over, freaking him out. Cop comes to the window and asks isn't it past his bed time. It's his brother. All I can think about is Dick doing that to his brothers when he's a cop.

hahaha oh no, that brother sounds (hilariously) mean! I bet Dick does it all the time. Especially when he’s on cop patrol during Bat-patrol and is feeling a little jealous about it. His favorite targets are Jason, Cass and Damian. They get so grumpy.

anonymous asked:

Headcanon: All the Starbucks and coffee shops in Gotham have the batfamily's coffee order memorized.

I read a hc somewhere that grateful shops in Gotham will put a bat in their windows to thank the Bats and alos lowkey let them know that this place is a safe haven for the vigilantes.

The coffee shops with Bats in their windows will stay open later to accommodate the Bats’ patrol. They’ll get a little tap on the window and the barista will just ask who’s on patrol tonight. Oh it’s just Robin and Red here? I’m glad to hear you two are getting on now, that’s great kids. I hear a siren going on down the block, go check it out, the coffee will be done when you get back. Here’s your order, tell your Dad we’ll be closing a 3 so if he wants something he’ll need to stop by before then. The Bats usually don’t pay upon collection but at the end of the year, the stores get a giant check that probably a good chunk more than all the coffees cost. 

Of Damsels and Heroes - Bruce Wayne x Reader

Prompt: Hello:)! I was wondering if you could do a Bruce oneshot where she is a vigilante and when they meet instead of the cliché of him saving her, she saves batman and after working together for a while they reveal their identities and maybe go on a date?

You were on the trail of a new kingpin that was taking over Gotham. You had been hunting and following leads for months. Between long nights of stakeouts and rough shakedowns of the kingpin’s top men you were ready to finally end this once and for all. You reached the warehouse that, according to you intel, was being used as the headquarters for the operation.

You came across across some knocked out men along the perimeter. You shrugged it off. you weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Moving closer to the warehouse you swore under your breath when you saw that there were far more men on lookout than you expected. Every fucking window was covered. Getting into the warehouse through the window wasn’t about to happen. Whoever the bastard was that came in before you really had them spooked. You circled around the warehouse behind the treeline to find a new way in. After walking for a little while you noticed something wedged into a nearby tree. You pried it from the wood and turned it in your hand to inspect it. It was some sort of knife projectile shaped like a bat.

‘Not this guy.’ You internally groaned. This was your case and your perp! He had all the psychopaths in Gotham to deal with. Did he really have to butt into your work?

If the big bad bat was here you probably didn’t have a lot of time to act before all the action was over. Hastening your steps you continued searching for the perimeter for a way in. Your eyes caught sight of your golden ticket: a broken basement window. You hid behind a large tree waiting for the patrol to pass. When the coast was clear you snuck to the window. You peered into the window to ensure that the room you were sneaking into was empty. You pushed your hand through the broken section of the window and pulled from the inside to open it. Luckily for you the widow was large enough for you to slip your body through without getting stuck.

The window you climbed into was situated into a indented corner of the building. Most of the basement was in your field of view but you didn’t know what was around the corner closest to you. You carefully peered around the corner and almost burst out laughing.

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anonymous asked:

(GUESS WHO) in light of our constant sobbing over these two, I would love no. 3 with Alfred and Jay (it can be adult Jay or bby Jay I'll leave that up to you!) <3

thank u so much for sending AND SORRY FOR THE WAIT <333 

Here they are Alfred and Jason. hurt/comfort, timeline?? what timeline. it’s not their first meeting after jay’s resurrection I know that. <33 pls enjoy

3. please don’t leave 

Jason shouldn’t be here.

Coming to the manor for a few books he likes is one of his worst ideas. The weather is dreadful, snow reaching his ankle, cold biting his skin as he strolls to the side of the manor, close to his old window.

The security system is down which means Alfred had stayed home instead of going to grocery shopping. Huh, that’s fine. Jason is going to be quiet and won’t make a ruckus. Alfred won’t even know he was there.

He isn’t avoiding Alfred.

He is only keeping his distance so he won’t crumble and break down in front of those sharp eyes, seeing everything Jason wants to hide in the back of his mind. Alfred just knows him too much. Even after he came back to life, their conversation never has turned to his death or his resurrection and Jason wants to keep it that way.

It’s not the first time Jason is in the manor after his death but it feels like it. The stuffing feeling seeing his books on the shelves, the bed reminding him all the time he was awake in the morning hours reading instead of sleeping.

It’s a bitter reminder what he lost but he can only blame himself in the end.

He exhales a shaky breath as he stands in front of his bookshelf. Before he can choose the books, his door opens and it’s Alfred standing in the door, calm and collected like always as if Jason’s presence is welcomed.

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anonymous asked:

#HeyBatsCheckYourRR like, "I just saw RR get gassed with FearToxin??? He got all the civilians to leave so they wouldnt get gassed, but now he's just sitting in a corner, terrified?? Why haven't any of his partners come for him yet???" or "RR took some bad hits and lost a lot of blood tonite, but when Batman was asking everyone if they were injured, a cop came in and interrupted RR and then no one followed up???" or "I thought the Bats dont patrol alone anymore?? whys RR by himself then??"

Caught Red Robin napping on my fire escape again. Third time this month. Don’t this boy have a bed? #HeyBatsCheckYourRR #Someone put this kid to bed

RR saved me and my girlfriends from a fire. Jessie couldn’t stop crying and thanking him from saving all of us. Red got this thousand mile stare and told us to take of each other cause you never know when your friends will leave you #HeyBatsCheckyourRR #Heavy man #Didn’t most of his friends die? #And his boyfriend?

Was chatting up Nightwing when he was interrogating our dance club, asked how lil Robbie was doing. Cute kid always took time to talk to and compliment the dancers. Wing went on about that new brown Robin and he gave me a blank look when I asked about the other one. #HeyBatsCheckYourRR #I miss the other Robin #Sounds like I’m the only one who does

Barbara loved being Oracle; the only down side was that she felt helpless knowing that her team are in danger but couldn’t really do much but hope. That is when she realized how Alfred must have felt, still does, when one of the Bat family is out patrol or fighting. So on nights when Alfred is securing the city, Barbara always volunteers to be with him, in a way of saying “you are not alone”. (And when it’s a quiet night, she and Alfred watch his favorite television shows and movies).

Prompt:  11. “Could you be more annoying?”

Character(s): Bruce Wayne x Reader

A/N: yeet, I was in the writing mood and felt like cranking this one out. Hope you guys enjoy! it’s also long as hell lmaoo

Shifting in your seat, you tugged the edges of your dress down by their sides so that the fabric rested at the top of your knee, trying to look as inconspicuous as you could be fixing your dress in public, hoping that the ever watchful eye of the media undoubtedly at this gala didn’t notice Bruce Wayne’s date looking utterly uncomfortable as you waited for the aforementioned man to return with your drinks. 

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tanekore  asked:

Canonverse AU where Tim and Robin!Jason became friends when Jay and Bats were out patrolling. Jay would check up on Tim, teach him a few things, make sure he wasn't falling asleep in odd places or pitching himself off roofs. Ofc he'd inevitably pose for pictures, the ham that he is. Tim even got some polaroids of the two of them together! When Jay died, Tim waited night after night alone until Selina showed up to tell him the news (bc Bats couldn't). Tim's camera collects dust on a shelf now.


when tim is really depressed he goes to see the photo album in jason’s room, he sleeps in his bed to remember his scent   

The streets of Gotham are finally quiet, the buzz of midnight traffic long gone, the patrol almost over. Stephanie sits on one of the taller rooftops above crime alley and stares west towards where the sun will eventually break over the horizon.

“I missed you,” she says, and Steph doesn’t have to turn around to notice Black Bat peeling out of the shadows behind her. She fiddles with the end of her cape as Black Bat settles cross-legged next to her. The hood she wears is terrifying, Steph notes. She can’t even tell if Black Bat is breathing. Steph shifts, and their knees press together, a small comfort in the hazy two am light. She and Cass work better like this, speaking in small touches during patrols, Black Bat striking out of the shadows when Batgirl forgets to watch her own back.

Somewhere closer to central Gotham, a car honks. Black Bat reaches out, her gloved hand palm-up on Stephanie’s knee. I missed you too.

Stephanie drops her hand gingerly into Cass’ own, and their fingers grip tight automatically. God, she’d missed this. Missed her. Steph scuffs her feet against the dirty brick of the building and leans her head on her best friend’s shoulder. A block or so down, she can hear the sound of a fight breaking out, a man getting shoved to the ground. Batgirl gets to her feat surely, Black Bat just a moment ahead of her.

“Ready to go fight crime?” She asks, and Stephanie can’t see behind the mask of the costume, but she knows anyway that Cassandra is smiling as she vanishes down the side of the building with barely a flutter of fabric. Batgirl grins, and follows her down.

Alisa Kwitney On Writing Stephanie Brown and Cass Cain in Convergence: Batgirl #1

DC Comics is launching their Convergence event next month and it is bringing back classic versions of characters as well as characters that have not been part of the new 52 continuity.

Two of the missing characters that fans were most concerned about when DC rebooted their universe were Stephanie Brown and Cassandra Cain. Brown is now back in Batman Eternal in a rebooted form (she is Spoiler and has never been Batgirl) while Cain has remained “benched” except for a brief appearance in a Batgirl issue set in an alternative future. The issue also features a pre-52 Tim Drake.

Writer Alisa Kwitney has been tapped to write the two issues named Convergence: Batgirl #1. Kwitney is not a name a lot of comic readers may be familiar with as most of her comic work was a few years ago as an editor at Vertigo on titles such as Books of Magic. I chatted with Kwitney about taking on these popular characters and what she has planned for them.

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I want to thank everyone who reblogged my post to let me know the Batman universe is fictional. This was both an enlightening and frightening discovery, as I have spent the past twenty-five years of my life believing that a man dressed as a bat patrols my city and keeps me safe from gimmick-obsessed villains wearing elaborate costumes. I now have to cope with the shattering realization that my entire existence up until this moment has been a lie, so I ask for your patience as I begin what I am sure will be a lengthy and intimidating journey towards integrating myself into a world I knew nothing about before today. 

Thank you, good citizens of Tumblr, for your wisdom. Without you I would still be testing my drinking water on a daily basis for hallucinogens and Joker toxin.