Is There A Word That’s A Mix Between Angry And Sad

Cryptid Bruce is awesome

Cryptid Bruce

Martha and Thomas Wayne struggled to have a child for years and Thomas meets a shady man who tells him that a child will come to them soon

Thomas just ‘??? okaaaaaay’s him but in a week, Martha bursts into his office looking frazzled

“We’re being haunted.”

“….”

“Don’t give me that look, Thomas Wayne. The Manor. It’s haunted. Alfred! Tell him we’re being haunted!”

And Alfred comes in, also looking frazzled but to a lesser degree.

The two explain that things are moving around the Manor without any kind of explanation, but Thomas doesn’t believe them. Until he notices things in his office also being moved. The weirdest event is when they start hearing a child’s giggles. No explanation. None.

Not until Thomas, sleep deprived after going over paperwork for one too many hours, pops into the kitchen and…there is a child. Sitting on the kitchen counter.

The child, a boy, turns. Grins. Waves.

“Hi, daddy.”

—

Bruce, they name him, can melt into shadows. He finds it hilarious. Martha thinks she’s going to go grey at her young age. She adores him. Thomas adores him. He’s their son now.

The Waynes have a mysterious child, but they keep their private lives very private, so maybe they just successfully hid a pregnancy? And then a child. For…three years. They think Bruce is three, at least.

Despite how odd of a child Bruce is, they love him dearly. He’s some kind of miracle. A…very weird, possibly magical(?) miracle.

—

Dick thinks his adoptive father is strange. Extremely strange. Bruce makes absolutely no noise when he moves. He doesn’t cast shadows but he seemingly is able to *blend into them*. His smile, whilst genuine, seems a little too sharp.

He thinks he’s a vampire.

Bruce laughs so hard, he doubles over.

“No, but I am the Batman, so I guess you’re not far off.”

“…is this a joke?”

“Nope.”

“A dream?”

Bruce pinches him and Dick yelps.

Bruce doesn’t explain to Dick what he is, because he doesn’t have a clue himself. He just…is.

—

But when Jason comes along, he has a million and one questions. Bruce blinks at him.

“How did you do that? You literally *melted* into the shadows!”

Bruce shrugs.

“No. *No*. Explain.”

“I…can’t.”

“You said no secrets, B!”

Bruce puts his hands up defensively. “It’s not a secret! I really don’t know! It just…kind of happens.”

Jason stares at him. Bruce stands there. He seems to flicker? The edges of his body go a bit transparent and Dick knows he only does that when he’s stressed.

“Leave him alone, Jay. He’s telling the truth. He’s just…like that. But he’s still Bruce.”

It takes Jason two months to accept it. By then, his questions are more from genuine intrigue and wonder. He hides under Batman’s cape and somehow it’s spacious? It can even fit Dick at the same time. No one (but Bruce) can even hear them when they’re under there.

And then one day, when he goes to take a nap under Bruce’s cape, someone else is there.

“….B?”

“…”

“You know what I’m going to ask.”

“…”

“*Bruce*.”

“No real names, Robin.”

“No one can hear me!”

“…I didn’t kidnap him.”

“What his name?”

“Timothy Drake.”

“FROM DRAKE INDUSTRIES?”

And Tim wakes up, rubbing his eyes. He looks exhausted and way too skinny, and all of a sudden, Jason understands why Dick has cooed at him the first night Bruce brought him home.

“Um…hi.”

“B, we’re keeping him.”

Jason doesn’t need to see Bruce’s face to know he’s smiling.

—

Damian just…appears. Bruce suddenly understands his parents’ reactions to his first appearance because nearly the same exact thing happens. Bruce wakes up from a nap. He doesn’t need to sleep very often, something Tim finds incredibly annoying, declaring it to be *unfair*. He wakes up, and curled against his chest is…a boy. Who looks a *lot* like him.

“Uh.”

The child wakes up, blinks at him w striking green eyes.

“Hello Father.”

What the fuck.

Dick slams his way into Bruce’s office, followed by Jason and Tim, who are bickering with each other.

“DAAAAAAAD, THEY WON’T SHU- oh. Steal another kid?”

“…he just appeared.”

“That’s the excuse you used for Jason.”

“No. Literally. I fell asleep. No kid. Woke up. Kid.”

“My name is Damian.”

“That’s no fair. You came pre-named?”

Damian is as odd as Bruce. Actually, he’s weirder. And stabby. Bruce finds him *delightful*. He adores him.

—

Dick is Nightwing, Jason is Red Hood (no death, he just thought it was a cool name), Tim is Red Robin, and Damian’s Robin.

Bruce is Batman. Despite being in his late 30s, he still looks like he’s in his mid 20s.

—

Batman stands in front of a bank robber who’s going on about their evil bank robbing plans. Nightwing pops his head out from beneath Batman’s cape.

“Can you get to the point?”

Red Hood pops out next.

“I’m getting bored.”

Red Robin follows.

“This is sad.”

Damian.

“Scum.”

Batman sighs.

“Why are all of you here?”

“Missed you.”

They all chime in.

The robber.

“How…how the *fuck-?*”

“Language. There are kids around.”

“B, I’m 23.”

“Says the boy taking a nap in my cape. And I was talking about Red Robin and Robin.”

“…’s comfy.”

“I’m eighteen???”

“F- Batman! I am not a child!”

There’s some shuffling sounds, no doubt Red Hood moving over to ruffle Robin’s hair.

“Whatever you say, Tiny Demon.”

And then Red Hood shrieks.

“No stabbing your brothers, Robin.”

“He called me small!”

“…you are.”

“This is insulting, F- Batman. I will grow to be as big as you. No. *Bigger*.”

The robber watches in confusion, mild amusement, and horror.

Batman sighs.

“We’ll talk about this later. Now, you were saying? Blowing up the bank, terrorizing the people.” Batman yawns. “Anything else?”

“Just take me to Arkham. I think I’m insane.”

It did work for the British

Just spent over an hour on a customer support line talking to half a dozen different people across five separate transfers, and the final resolution was that they were unable to help me because at some point in that process I'd somehow been transferred to their Australian branch. I didn't even know they had an Australian branch.

Headcanon that early on in Dick's tenure as Robin, Batman gets seriously injured during patrol one night. Not enough that his life is in danger, but like, enough that he's unconscious and needs medical attention.

And after he gets him squared away, Jim Gordon sees a small, masked child covered in someone else's blood, and then his Dad (tm) instincts kick in, and he refuses to let Robin go to wherever he calls home alone. So he just... takes him back to his home.

And this can go two directions. Either

Barbara, not Batgirl yet, wakes up when her father comes home and sees a boy slightly younger than her, covered in blood, and befriends him, for sure freaking out her father but also making him incredibly worried about Robin and if he has any other friends or not.

or

Barbara, fully Batgirl, but not on patrol that night because she had a test that next day, wakes up when her father comes home, and comes face to face with her best friend in his masked alter ego, and they both have to pretend that they don't know each other for like two days, meanwhile Dick's sweating because like Holy shit, I've had sleepovers here before, whatever you do, don't act like Dick Grayson.

Either way it ends with Dick, mask still firmly in place but wearing Barbara's pajamas, and Babs fully passed out on the ground around a game of monopoly when Batman finally comes to collect his sidekick.

This experience would also make Jim Gordon even more terrified for Robin on a daily basis because before, he was sort of a shadowy, cryptic force that followed Batman around, but now Jim knows that he's just a little boy, smaller than his own daughter, that likes the same games and cartoons that Babs does, and I'm not sure he'd be able to handle that.

VIGILANTES!!!!! WE WON!!!!!!!!

If they were transformers what vehicle would they be

Dick: a clown car

Jason: a freight train

Tim: the Batmobile he embezzled

Damian: a horse-drawn carriage

Duke: a Mars rover

Cullen: a go-kart

Stephanie: a speedboat

Cassandra: a UFO

Barbara: a submarine

Harper: an 18-wheeler

Carrie: an ice cream truck

Kate: a bulldozer

Helena: a helicopter

Luke: a fighter jet

Bette: an ATV

Alfred: a coach bus

Selina: a limousine

Bruce: a suburban dad van

BONUS – the Joker: a Tesla cybertruck

Love this idea

Perhaps they ought not to have eaten the dragon. There had been people objecting to it at the time. Surely such meat was poisonous. Perhaps it was even an affront, an insult to some intangible order of nature they ought to honour.

But the city was starving, the siege had gone on too long, and the king's troops were still a week's march away. The scorched earth would be fertile again in time, but right now it was barren. Right now there were mouths to feed. So they changed their crossbows for butcher knives and got to work.

None of the royal commanders asked any questions that could not be answered. After all, their aid had come shamefully late. The dragon's horned skull made a noble gift, a fitting tribute from a triumphant city to its humbled king. Who would have thought to question them?

And none of the townsfolk spoke up, when the first golden-eyed babes were born. Children who grew up barefoot and fearless, clambering over the city's patched and rebuilt roofs like they had no notion of falling, with a strange glitter to their skin when the sunlight hit it just so. No one breathed a word about dragons.

Because soon enough there were deft, young hands taking loaves straight out of the oven, heedlessly lifting iron from the forge, plunging into boiling laundry water. And some of them more wondrous still, wild, warm-skinned youths, with inexplicable knowledge and peculiar remedies.

A blessing, their families said proudly. A blessing after so much hardship. Which it was, in its way. This city would never fear dragon fire again.

THE SHIT (GOLD) YOU FIND IN THE OCEAN (YOUTUBE COMMENT’S SECTION)

I just finished reading this story and I loved every second of it

It has been almost a year since I started procrastinating writing the last chapter for this fic so uh. Have a sketch of the boys ig.

He actually doesn’t play video games… Just wants attention.

Batman, arresting Harley for the umpteenth time: You're going to prison, Quinn.

Harley: You know what I was thinking?

Batman: what.

Harley: That you don't send me to prison. *grins*

Batman:...

Batman: I have no idea what to say to that.

Harley: No, think about it! I could wear my sexy nurse outfit and you me and kitty could have some fun!

Batman: *sighs* As appealing as that prospect is,....

Harley: *low squeal*

Batman: No.

Harley: You need a therapist who can fuck you and tell you about your mommy issues at the same time

Batman: I don't think anyone ever in the history of humanity has needed that.

Harley: (begging) Come on, Bats. They drug me in there! It gets all...spooky sometimes. Not your kind of spooky, the bad kind.

Batman: *hesitating*

Harley: And they feed me pea soup! PEA SOUP!! *kicks a rock and starts crying*

Batman: Quinn, you should have thought of that before you ran away with Ivy and killed the CEO of FutureTech.

Harley, pleading: That was Ivy, not me!

Batman: Uh huh.

Harley: She said he was a plant murderer. And I gotta admit, I wasn't feeling too good myself about him dumping all that toxic waste in the Amazon.

Batman: When things like this happen, you come to me.

Harley: You've never shown interest in plant shit before.

Batman, pinching the bridge of his nose: I can handle it. I know how important 'plant shit' is to Ivy and you. It's important to me too. That's why, next time, before you murder someone, let me handle it legally by scaring the shit out of them first. Okay?

Harley: *hiccups* okay.

Batman: Now. I'll talk to the Arkham parole board about your early conditional release. But I will make sure they give you some truly, spectacularly, horribly disgusting community service.

Harley, desperate: No. Not the garbage route again.

Batman, smiling grimly: Oh it gets worse. Trust me. *begins typing into his phone*

Harley: Oh my god I think I'll just do my time. I'm not going into the trash cans, you don't know the kind of shit people throw out! I think I'll just take my meds and stare at the walls instead.

Batman, looking up from his phone: I'm afraid that ship has sailed. *smiles evilly*

Harley: Oh my fucking shit you monster!

Batman: Remember that feeling the next time your trigger finger itches to pop off a human being.

Harley, gritting her teeth: It's itching now, bitch!

Batman, smugly: Good.