What if Ghostbat each got turned into a cat:
Bruce: He’d be a large black cat. Khoa would laugh his ass off and try to put pink bows, little bells, and ridiculous tiny outfits on him. Of course Bruce would refuse to cooperate. He’d jump to the top of the tallest cabinet and sit there with his back turned to Khoa, tail flicking in irritation.
He’d still try to work, awkwardly smacking at the keyboard with his paws while Khoa laughs at him from the side. He’d continue his nightly patrols, refuse to sleep in bed, and insist on crouching on the windowsill like a gargoyle, silently watching every shadow outside.
Only after Khoa falls asleep would Bruce quietly jump onto the bed. And even then, he’d choose a spot at the foot of the bed, facing the door.
But the second Khoa feels a warm black furry thing by his feet, he’d immediately scoop Bruce into his arms.
“Bruce, quiet. Your purring is too loud.”
Bruce would look deeply offended, but once he hears Khoa’s steady breathing, he’d let himself stay there in his arms.
Khoa: He’d be a willful white cat doing whatever the fuck he wants. Bruce would try to train him the same way he trained Ace. Like, “Sit. Don’t scratch the couch.” Of course none of it works. Khoa would slowly extend one paw right in front of Bruce, knock over an antique vase, and then stare at him provocatively.
Eventually Bruce just gives up and lets Khoa walk all over his keyboard or sleep on top of his cape, leaving white fur all over it. And Khoa absolutely would not eat cat food. He demands bluefin tuna and A5 wagyu. He’d also ambush the Robins in the hallway just for fun.
Even though he acts completely unimpressed with anyone, whenever Bruce works late into the night, Khoa would quietly jump into his lap and curl up in the most comfortable position he can find. And if Bruce dares to stop petting him, Khoa bites his hand.
And his sleeping posture would be absolutely terrible. He’d sleep sprawled across the bed and shove Bruce all the way to the edge. Sometimes he sleeps on the pillow with one paw directly in Bruce’s face. Other times he just sprawls across Bruce’s chest like a weighted blanket. Poor Bruce probably has nightmares from getting crushed by a 18 pound cat.
But when Bruce wakes up from a nightmare and sees this fluffy white menace, he just sighs, pulls the blanket over him, and kisses one of those soft little ears.
“Goodnight, Khoa. Even as a cat, you’re still an asshole.”