#a silent guardian...a watchful protector..

[doritofalls]

I follow you. Watching. Waiting.

[silent-guardian]

The Dark Knight

Because he's the hero Gotham deserves, but not the one it needs right now. So we'll hunt him. Because he can take it. Because he's not our hero. He's a silent guardian, a watchful protector. A dark knight.

[jackspadesillustration]

[garrulus]

me: i will stop my compulsive buying

also me: buys dc underpants that i can't even wear because there is a huge red batman sign on the butt and i have to wear white work clothes all the time

[vexingjacktheripper]

Detective Conics #1000 variant cover by Lee Bermejo

[dollishmiso]

WEIRD THINGS BATBOYS DO WHEN THEY LIKE YOU ── .✦

a/n: this is a request + ask so tysm to whoever sent that but it’s (here) but anyways I’m so excited for my birthday on december 7th this year and it’s just so beautiful to see me grow up honestly and find myself. (Tags: batboys x crush!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Excessive Flexing (Literally): Dick will "accidentally" do pull-ups in front of you. He’s already shirtless and grinning, saying, “Oh, didn’t see you there. Wanna join?”

Compliment Overload: “Is that a new hairstyle? New shoes? You look incredible. Oh, wait, you always look incredible.” He will literally point out your eyelashes looking perfect “wow so nice, your lashes are so long and beautiful.”

The Over-Helper: He suddenly insists on helping you with everything—carrying bags, opening jars, lifting heavy stuff—and does it with the biggest, dorkiest smile. “It’s no big deal, bab- I mean—uh… friend.”

Trips Over Air: He’s graceful in battle, but near you? He’s knocking over coffee cups and walking into doorframes. "I swear, I’m usually coordinated, maybe I’m falling for you?😉”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Overly Cool Persona: He tries to play it cool, acting like he doesn’t care. But then he’ll text you at 3 a.m. with, “U up? I found a meme that reminded me of you.”

Teases You Constantly: Jason’s version of flirting is lightly roasting you. “Did you really think that outfit would work today?” But if anyone else says something, he’s ready to fight.

Surprise Gifts: He’ll give you something like your favorite snack but pretend it’s no big deal. “I just had extra,” he’ll mumble, even though he went to three stores to find it.

Blushes Like Crazy: He’s all tough-guy until you compliment him, and then it’s over. He gets red and stammers, “Shut up,” while smiling like an idiot.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Awkward Genius Mode: He’s smart with everything… except his crush. Suddenly, forming coherent sentences is a challenge. “I-I mean, uh… yeah, computers.”

Googles 'How to Flirt': You’ll catch him peeking at his phone mid-conversation because he’s literally reading “Flirting 101” or reading Reddit threads on flirting gone wrong.

Coffee Delivery: He’ll bring you coffee with your exact order memorized and pretend it’s casual. “Oh, you like this too? Weird coincidence.” It’s not. He asked around for hours.

Accidentally Compliments You: He’ll blurt out, “You smell nice.” Pause. “I mean, not that I’m sniffing you or anything!” Cue him turning bright red and hiding behind his laptop.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Pretends He Doesn’t Care: He’ll act indifferent but secretly monitors everything you do. “I don’t care what you do,” he says while glaring at someone standing too close to you.

Suddenly Overly Polite: Damian, the king of sass, becomes weirdly respectful. “Would you like me to carry that for you? No? Okay. Are you sure?”

Gives You Fancy Gifts: He gifts you rare, expensive things like hand-picked flowers from the Wayne estate garden. “It’s not a big deal. Just take it.”

Random Acts of Bravery: He’ll jump in front of a moving bicycle or push you out of the way of a puddle, then act like it was nothing. “It was instinct. Don’t be dramatic.”

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Becomes an Awkward flirt: He’s smooth in public but completely loses it around his crush. “Do you need anything? No? Water? A chair?” He’s offering things you don’t need.

Over-Explains Everything: Bruce will start talking about something mundane and give a full TED Talk. “Well, you see, the Batmobile’s engine is unique because…” You just wanted to know if it had cup holders.

Subtle Touches: He’ll brush your hand “accidentally” or adjust your coat collar, lingering just a second too long. But if you call him out, he’ll stammer, “I thought you were cold.”

Silent Protector: He’ll stand silently in the background, watching like a brooding guardian angel. If anyone flirts with you, his jaw clenches like it’s personal.

Bonus: Dumb Things They ALL Do ── .✦

Group Text Fiascos: They’ll text each other for advice, and it always goes wrong.

Jason: “Should I call her pretty or hot?”

Tim: “Say she’s breathtaking. It’s classier.”

Dick: “Just tell her you love her.”

Damian: “You’re all fools.”

Bruce (accidentally replying to all): “…Delete this.”

Staring Too Long: Every single one of them will stare at you for too long, only to awkwardly look away when you notice. They’ll try to play it off, but you know they were looking.

Clumsy Idiots: They’ll all try to do something impressive—lift something heavy, show off their fighting skills—and it’ll backfire hilariously. But the effort is adorable.

[huckleberry-writes]

cw: mentions of hell, slight body horror (burning), manipulation, mentions of death

Yandere! Fallen Angel was never meant to love you.

Once, eons ago, when his wings were still ivory white and the voice of Heaven echoed clearly in his mind, it's light etched onto his golden brow, he was your sworn protector. Just that. Just a guardian. Bound by divinity to watch from afar, silent and unseen, gently guiding your steps without ever touching the fragile thread of your fate.

But you were too soft and full of the breath of life. He watched you become a mess over broken things, hum while stirring soup on rainy days, kiss bruises with the kind of tenderness no angel was ever meant to crave.

And with that craving, he fell. Not with fire and rebellion, but with longing. A quiet, sick ache that rotted his vows from the inside out.

An angel isn't supposed to love their human.

So he fell. And fell. Until the fires of hell licked up his skin and ruined his holy vow.

Now, he haunts your dreams. That’s all that’s left to him as he resides in the firey pits. A flicker of warmth in your sleep, a vision wrapped in beauty. You see him there around the haze of it all: slim and lovely, soft golden curls that frame his delicate face, and eyes like polished sapphires, too bright and kind, too perfect to be real. He smiles with lips like rose petals and reaches for you with slender, almost trembling hands.

You never question it. Never look too long.

Because if you did, if your gaze lingered past the surface of his borrowed grace, you’d see the cracks. See the way his dark pupils stretch too wide, black leaking into blue like ink bleeding through a finished product. The way his teeth are just a little too sharp when he smiles too hard. How his wings, though still feathered and golden at first glance, twitch as if something underneath is trying to claw free.

He is not what he once was.

But oh, he still guides you. Whispers into your heart at every moment of weakness, gently nudging your life toward the edge. Making sure you stumble, fall, bleed. Making sure your path is paved in poor decisions.

Because the closer you are to death, the closer you are to him.

He dreams of the day your breath slows and body collapses, and finally your soul flickers. He will be there, arms outstretched, wings unfurling like a cage. Not to save you. No. To claim you.

To make you his bride.

When the fire begins to lick at your bones and you begin to weep from the burns, he’ll hush your sad little cries with gentle hands. He’ll pull you close, wings curling tight around your blistered frame until your human flesh is no more.

Because he still tells himself it’s love.

That your ruin is the holiest act of devotion. That dragging you into the pit is just another way of keeping you safe. After all, what better eternity is there…than burning together?

[bat-mom-writer]

Flirting with Fortune

Reader(wife) X Bruce Wayne(Husband)

Summery: You're not only the wife to billionaire Bruce Wayne, but you are also his secretary. And as you are not public with your married or your position in his company, sometimes you will get flirted with. Like when a suspicious business man comes in, flirting with you and trying to get Bruce to invest with some questionable business.

Rating: flirty man, you showing him up, Bruce being a loving husband

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"Well, hello there, beautiful," purred a voice with the confidence of a man who was used to getting his way.

You glanced up from the paperwork sprawled across the sleek mahogany desk, a silent guardian to the secrets of Gotham's shadowy protector. The man before you had a smile as charming as a snake and eyes that swept over the room with the same ease as a hawk surveying its prey. He was tall, dressed in a tailored suit that screamed wealth and power, with a crisp white shirt and a tie that shimmered with the subtle hues of a peacock's feathers. His hair was a shade of brown that whispered of nightfall and styled with a precision that suggested he had more time on his hands than most.

"Can I help you with something, sir?" you asked, keeping your voice cool and professional, despite the irritation bubbling beneath the surface.

The man's smile widened, revealing a set of gleaming teeth. "Ah, you must be Mrs. Wayne's assistant," he said, his gaze lingering a fraction too long. "I have an appointment with Mr. Wayne. Name's Castellanos. Sebastian Castellanos."

You tapped a few keys on the computer, watching the screen flicker to life with the day's schedule. "Let me see," you murmured, scanning the appointments.

"It's at 2:00, sweetheart," Castellanos said, his tone dripping with condescension.

You bit back a sharp retort, locating the appointment on the screen. Sure enough, there it was: Sebastian Castellanos, 2:00 PM. You took the moment to compose yourself, feeling a peculiar mix of annoyance and amusement at the man's blatant flirtation. It wasn't uncommon for people to overlook the significance of your role in the company, but rarely did they do it so overtly.

"You're right on time, Mr. Castellanos," you said with a polite smile, standing up and gesturing towards the door that led to Bruce's inner office. "If you'd follow me, please."

As you led him down the hallway, you couldn't help but feel his eyes on you, a sensation as unwelcome as a cold breeze on a summer's day. The tension grew as you approached the heavy oak door, the silent sentinel that guarded Bruce's sanctum. You paused for a moment, your hand hovering over the brass knob, and took a deep breath. This was your territory, and you had every right to be here. With a firm grip, you pushed the door open, revealing the dimly lit room beyond.

Bruce looked up from his paperwork, the shadows playing across his chiseled features. He was dressed in a simple, yet impeccable, suit, a stark contrast to Castellanos' flashy attire. His eyes met yours for a brief moment, before looking to the newcomer with a measured gaze.

"Welcome, Mr. Castellanos," Bruce said, his voice a calm rumble that seemed to fill the room. "Please, take a seat."

As Castellanos settled into the chair opposite Bruce's desk, you couldn't resist the urge to assert yourself. With a grace that belied the steely resolve within, you moved to the desk, placing one hand on its polished surface. It was a silent claim to your place beside the man you loved, a reminder that you were not just a pretty face or an object to be ogled. You hopped up, crossing your legs as you perched on the edge of the desk, your posture casual yet commanding.

The room grew a few degrees cooler as Bruce's eyes narrowed, his gaze flicking briefly to Castellanos before returning to you. He knew you well enough to recognize the subtle shift in your demeanor, the unspoken challenge you offered to the man before him.

"Well, Mr. Castellanos," you began, your voice as smooth as silk, "What brings you to Wayne Enterprises today?"

Surprise flashed across Castellanos' face, his eyes widening slightly at your sudden proximity and assertive tone. It was clear he hadn't expected you to be more than a pretty accessory to the office decor. He cleared his throat, adjusting his posture to match your own.

"Ah, yes, I'm here to discuss a potential investment opportunity with Mr. Wayne," he said, his voice a shade less confident than before.

Bruce leaned back on his chair, his hand coming to rest lightly on your thigh. "Pray tell, what kind of opportunity are we speaking of?" he inquired, his tone polite but firm.

Castellanos took a moment to collect himself, his eyes darting between you and Bruce. "It's a… a new technology," he stumbled, recovering quickly. "A revolutionary energy source, something that could change the world for the better."

You felt a smirk tug at the corner of your mouth. "How intriguing," you said, leaning in slightly. "But surely you know that Wayne Enterprises is quite selective with its investments. We have a responsibility to our shareholders, and the planet, to choose projects that are both profitable and sustainable."

Castellanos' smile faltered, his eyes flickering to the hand on your thigh before he regained his composure. "Of course," he replied, his voice a touch too eager. "Our company, Castellanos Industries, has been working on this project for years. It's a clean, unlimited energy source that could replace fossil fuels entirely."

Bruce's interest piqued, he leaned forward. "Go on," he urged, his hand still a steady presence on your leg.

Castellanos took the cue, launching into a well-rehearsed pitch about his company's innovative technology. As he spoke, you studied his face, looking for any sign of deceit or hidden motives. There was something about the way his eyes glinted when they met yours that set your instincts on edge.

"It's called the 'Castellanos Engine,'" Castellanos said, his voice taking on a salesman's lilt. "It's a quantum-based energy converter that can produce power without waste or pollution."

You watched Bruce's face as he listened, his expression inscrutable. You knew he was processing the information, weighing the potential against the risks. Meanwhile, Castellanos' eyes kept straying to you, as if you were the real prize in the room. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, focusing instead on the subtle tension in Bruce's fingers against your skin.

As Castellanos spoke of the engine's capabilities, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of doubt. The technology sounded too good to be true, and Bruce's skepticism was palpable. "Fascinating," he said, his voice a low murmur. "But surely there are competitors with similar ideas?"

Castellanos' smile grew predatory. "That's where the chaos comes in, Mr. Wayne," he said, his gaze lingering on you for a beat too long. "We need to eliminate the competition. It's just good business, after all."

Bruce's grip on your leg tightened, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And what, exactly, does that entail?" he asked, his tone now as sharp as a scalpel.

Castellanos leaned back in his chair, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Well, it would involve… let's just say, a strategic realignment of the market," he replied, his words slipping out like a serpent's hiss. "Ensuring that our product is the only one that reaches the masses."

Bruce's grip on your leg tightened further, a silent signal that he had caught the underlying threat in Castellanos' words. "And what happens to the companies that don't align with your 'strategy'?"

Castellanos chuckled, a sound devoid of humor. "They're free to pursue their own ventures, of course," he said, his eyes gleaming with something darker than simple business ambition. "But I'd wager that without the resources or backing, their innovations won't get very far."

You felt your own anger simmering beneath the surface, but you kept your face neutral. "I see," you said, your voice cool and measured. "And what makes you think that Wayne Enterprises would be interested in… facilitating such a 'realignment'?"

"Well, Ms…" he trails off, his smug smile slipping as he searches for your name.

"Wayne," you correct him, your voice firm yet pleasant. "Mrs. Wayne."

The color drained from Castellanos' cheeks as the reality of his faux pas dawned on him. "Ah, Mrs. Wayne." he repeated, his eyes widening slightly. "Forgive me, I had no idea."

You stood, Bruce's hand slipping from your thigh as you come to stand beside Bruce, your hand resting on the back of his chair in a show of unity. "No need to apologize," you said with a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. "But let's get back to the matter at hand. You're asking for a significant investment from Wayne Enterprises. Can you assure us that your methods are ethical and legal?"

Castellanos nervously chuckled, his eyes darting between you and Bruce. "Well, Mrs. Wayne, in the world of high-stakes business, one must occasionally bend the rules," he replied, his smile never wavering. "But rest assured, everything will be above board. We just need a… nudge in the right direction."

Bruce's eyes hardened, and he pushed his chair back, the sound echoing through the tense silence. "We'll, I think we have everything we need, Mr. Castellanos," he said, his voice a polite dismissal. He rose from his seat, his hand outstretched.

Castellanos looked at the hand offered to him, his expression a mix of confusion and surprise. He took it, shaking it firmly, unsure of what had just transpired. "But, Mr. Wayne, the presentation, the details…" he stuttered, his words trailing off as he realized the meeting was coming to an abrupt end.

Bruce's smile was polite, but there was an edge to it that was as sharp as a sharpened knife. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Castellanos. We'll be in touch if we're interested in pursuing your… proposal," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Castellanos nodded, his bravado visibly deflated. "Of course," he managed, his hand lingering in Bruce's for a beat too long before withdrawing it. "I look forward to hearing from you."

"This way, Mr. Castellanos," you said, your smile as sharp as a blade as you turned on your heel and headed back towards the door. Your movements were graceful, almost predatory, as you guided him out of the office, your hand lightly touching the small of his back to steer him in the right direction.

While Mr. Castellanos was still trying to get a hold of himself, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the way he stumbled over his own words. He had underestimated you, and now he knew better. You felt Bruce's eyes on you, watching with a mix of pride and amusement. The air was thick with the scent of power and the promise of a challenge.

"I trust you know your way out," you said, starting to close the door to Bruce's office. Your voice was as cool and smooth as the marble floors beneath your heels. Castellanos' eyes widened even further, realizing his mistake in assuming you were just an assistant. He nodded, his cheeks reddening as he turned to leave.

Once the door was shut, you leaned against it, letting out a sigh. "Cocky little weasel," you murmured under your breath.

Bruce chuckled, his deep laugh resonating through the room. "I'd say you handled that quite well," he said, walking over to where you stood. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest, your heart beating a tattoo against his.

"Thank you," you murmured, a smile playing at the corners of your lips as you leaned into his embrace. "It's not every day someone tries to flirt with me while asking for millions of dollars."

Bruce chuckled, his breath warm against your neck. "He won't be making that mistake again," he said, his voice a low rumble of amusement. "But I'll have to keep an eye on him and any… illegitimate dealings he might have."

You nodded, feeling the tension in his arms. "Do you think he's dangerous?"

Bruce's grip tightened briefly. "More dangerous than he lets on," he murmured, his gaze drifting to the now-closed door. "But we've seen worse. But I think right now," he turned you to face him, his eyes searching yours, "we just forget about Mr. Castellanos and his 'engine'. Let's talk about something more… pleasant."

You felt a warmth spread through you at his touch, the tension of the encounter with Castellanos already fading away. You stepped into his embrace, your arms looping around his neck. "What did you have in mind?"

Bruce's smile grew, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "How about a surprise?"

Your heart skipped a beat at the prospect. "Surprise?"

Bruce leaned closer, his breath a warm whisper against your ear. "I thought we could take a little trip tonight," he said, his voice a tantalizing rumble. "Just you, me, and a private jet to an undisclosed location. Somewhere we can… unwind."

You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued. "Unwind?" you repeated, a smile playing on your lips. "My husband, Bruce Wayne, wants to unwind? Who are you and what have you done to the Dark Knight?"

Bruce chuckled, the sound resonating in his chest as he held you closer. "Even a knight needs to put down his sword sometimes," he whispered, his thumb tracing circles on the bare skin of your wrist. "And I can think of no one better to do it with than my queen."

You chuckle as his words tickle your ear, feeling the warmth of his breath and the steady beat of his heart. "Well, as much as I would love to jet off to some secret location with you, Bruce," you say, turning in his arms to look up at him with a playful smile, "I think staying home, relaxing for the night with a movie and a pizza is all I need."

His eyes light up with a hint of amusement. "A pizza?" he repeats, raising an eyebrow. "Is that all it takes to keep you happy?"

You grin up at him, feeling a flutter in your stomach. "Well, when you say it like that, it does sound a bit… pedestrian. But yes, a pizza. One that's not made by Alfred. I miss the simplicity of takeout, you know?"

Bruce's smile softens, his eyes warming at your words. "Then it's settled," he says, releasing you from his embrace but keeping a firm grip on your hand. "The best pizza money can buy."

You laugh, feeling a sense of relief at the idea of a quiet evening together. "The best pizza money can buy, huh?" you tease, tugging gently at his hand. "I'd settle for the greasy kind we used to get when we were first dating."

Bruce leans down, his eyes searching yours. His gaze is intense, a silent promise of a night without masks or battles. He brushes his lips against your forehead in a soft, lingering kiss that feels as warm as the sun on a spring afternoon. "I'll make it happen," he whispers, a gentle smile on his lips.