Bruce Only Kept The Batmobile As A Name Because Dick Would Refuse To Call It Anything Else And Alfred

“Jim Gordon would play it cool if Bruce ever revealed his identity to him” lies, that man chain smokes routinely for a glimpse of sanity. He’s consciously ignoring so much daily, it’s giving him heart palpitations and high blood pressure.

If he saw Bruce Wayne trying to approach him with that Batman-esque look in his eyes, Jim would probably throw himself off the nearest building to avoid him. He knows, but he doesn’t want to know. If it’s never confirmed directly to his face, then he doesn’t know shit.

It’s telling that he’d rather take twelve decapitation cases in a row (with seven missing heads) rather than spend more than .3 seconds near Bruce Wayne.

Jim can handle Gotham, but not identity shenanigans.

Tim was working on an antidote for one of Ivy’s concoctions when it blew up in his face. He blinked a few times in confusion before scowling and walking away.

Unfortunately for everyone, this little hiccup wasn’t harmless. The gas messed with Tim’s head. Damian scoffed at him once and Tim snaps. Just packs up and leaves.

It’s 2 weeks of chaos until the bats catch Tim and are able to synthesize an antidote. Apparently whatever concoction blew up in his face turned him towards Villainy?

I mean, god damn. By the time Tim’s back to his senses, the bat’s all collectively agree to take a week off.

Tim doesn’t remember anything that happened, but the rogues are traumatized. The Bat’s are exhausted between hunting Tim down while also disabling every trap he’s set (so how tf is he setting these up so quickly and how are there so many). Tim himself is just…chaos.

Like they knew the kid was a little feral, but Tim’s brand of Feral combined with his stupidly high Intelligence lead to nothing good. They learned first hand why Ra’s was so dead set on keeping Tim on his side.

Tim just laughs at them like “oh, is this your first time dealing with evil Tim?”

And oh wow is that the rest of The LoA bases blowing up? Yeah, Jason and Dick refuse to go through this ever again and if that means systematically wiping out every villain with a smidgen of interest in Tim then so be it.

Bruce shares custody of Tim with Harley Quinn

Yeah, you read that right. Gotham’s broodiest billionaire vigilante and the queen of chaotic energy are co-parenting Tim Drake. And, somehow, that’s not even the weirdest thing that's happened to the bats this year.

Why? Two words: Joker Junior.

The details are locked down tighter than the Batcave, but here’s what everyone knows (or guesses): Joker broke Tim in ways none of them can fathom. He didn’t just try to kill him—he tried to make Tim like him. And while Tim clawed his way back from the brink, he didn’t do it alone. Harley was there.

She was part of the nightmare. And then, unexpectedly, she was part of the healing. She stepped in, helped Tim survive when Joker was doing his worst. When it was all over, when Joker was (temporarily) gone, she didn’t vanish into Gotham’s chaos. She stayed.

And somehow, somewhere along the way, Tim started calling her “Mom.”

And Bruce didn’t stop him.

Cue the Batfamily losing their collective minds.

Dick is pacing the Batcave, gesturing wildly. “Bruce, this is Harley Quinn we’re talking about! You don’t just co-parent with a rogue! There are laws against this! Or, like, there should be!”

Jason is sitting on the Batmobile, arms crossed, voice dripping with disbelief. “She’s literally a former rogue. She tried to kill you! Like, more than once. This is insane, even for you.”

Steph is perched on the edge of a desk, trying (and failing) not to laugh. “Okay, but, like, can you blame Tim? Harley does make amazing pancakes. Better than Alfred’s, honestly—”

A scandalized gasp echoes from the other side of the room.

Cass just watches quietly, her head tilted, but there’s a small, knowing smile on her face. She gets it. She’s seen the way Tim softens around Harley, how he relaxes in a way he doesn’t around anyone else.

Damian glares at Bruce like he’s lost his last shred of common sense. “Father, you have truly surpassed yourself. Allowing that woman into the sanctity of our home—”

Duke raises a hand cautiously. “Okay, but can we at least talk about how Tim basically has diplomatic immunity now? No rogue in Gotham is gonna mess with him. He’s Harley’s kid!”

And it’s true. Between Harley’s reputation and Poison Ivy stepping in as Tim’s unofficial stepmom (because of course she and Harley got back together), the rogues have adopted a weird kind of reverence for him. Tim’s no longer just a bat to them—he’s Harley’s kid.

Picture this: Tim’s out on patrol, and Riddler has the gall to interrupt with a riddle—only to end it with, “You’re sharper than I thought, kid. Guess Harley taught you well, huh?” before disappearing into the night.

Harley’s brand of parenting is chaotic but deeply personal. She knows Tim’s tells, the way his hands shake when he’s overwhelmed or the too-quiet moments when he’s retreating into himself. She’s the one who sits cross-legged on the floor with him, working on puzzles and cracking jokes until the tension lifts.

She carries extra band-aids in her purse because “Ya never know when a fight with some thug is gonna leave ya with a paper cut!” She also leaves sticky notes on his projects with scribbled messages like “You’re a genius, baby boy!” or “Don’t forget snacks!” They’re goofy, sure, but they make Tim smile when he needs it most. She keeps a stash of snacks in the Manor because Tim forgets to eat when he’s working. She shows up with pancakes at 3 a.m., douses everything in syrup, and calls him “baby boy” in that soft tone that makes Tim feel… safe.

Even Harley’s chaos has an odd kind of comfort to it. She’ll burst into the Manor unannounced, dragging Tim into impromptu “self-care parties” with face masks, bad rom-coms, and every flavor of ice cream imaginable. Somehow, it works.

Ivy, on the other hand, balances Harley’s energy with her own structured nurturing. She insists on “proper nutrition” and occasionally sends Tim home with meal prep containers filled with organic, eco-friendly food labeled things like “Stress-Busting Smoothie” or “Brain-Boosting Soup.” If Bruce raises an eyebrow at it, Ivy simply reminds him that “The human body can only fight crime properly with the right fuel, Bats.”

One time, she cornered Bruce in the greenhouse, pointing an accusatory finger. “If you send Tim out on patrol without a proper meal or at least six hours of sleep, I swear, Bruce, your rose garden is compost.”

And while Harley is the queen of hugs and chaos, Ivy is the one who sits with Tim on the porch at night, talking softly about resilience and regrowth, using plant metaphors Tim pretends not to understand but secretly finds comforting. Once, after a particularly bad night, she gifted him a small cactus with a note: “Even when it feels like the world is trying to tear you apart, you’re stronger than you think. Also, low maintenance, like you.”

Bruce knows the family doesn’t fully understand. But as he watches Harley teaching Tim how to make lasagna one night, the two of them laughing as the kitchen turns into a war zone of flour and tomato sauce, he doesn’t regret it.

Sometimes family doesn’t look like you think it will. Sometimes it’s stitched together from the most unexpected pieces.

And sometimes, it’s an ex-rogue, a traumatized teen, and a brooding billionaire all trying to figure out how to keep the lasagna from burning.

Welcome to Gotham.

Oliver: Want to hear my British accent?

Bruce: No.

Oliver: I’m going to do it anyway. Hey mate, fancy some beans on toast?

Bruce noticed Alfred pause his dusting, visibly straining to keep from hitting Oliver.

Bruce: Carry on.

Oliver: It’s nice out today, innit? Such a lovely Chewsday!

In a swift motion, Alfred grabbed a serving tray and knocked it against Oliver's head, sending the man sprawling forward onto the table, unconscious.

Alfred (muttering under his breath): Bloody American.

Bruce took a silent sip of his tea, trying to mask his amusement while Alfred took an early break.

Junior turns on his heels, a manic grin spread wide accross his cheeks. Scars of a grotesque smile pull in a permanent mimicry of happiness as a hysterical giggle filters through his lips.

"What do you get, when the Sun disappears?"

The captured Kryptonian blinks, "what?"

JJ's grin grows impossibly wider, "A dead Super."

Superman gulps.

Looks are exchanged amongst the league and bats, confusion marring the gazes of all but one- Batman, who watches the proceedings with a sense of dreaded resignation.

"Hello, JJ."

Joker Junior grins delightedly, "Hello Batsy!"

"JJ, what are you doing here? Could you take your pills- or at least give control back to Tim, please?"

JJ merely smiles in response, before turning to Nightwing, arms swinging widely at his side as he does. "Nighty Nighty, what do you get, When a birdie leaves the nest?"

Nightwing frowns in confusion. "What, Tim?- what's going on?" JJ giggles in response. "Wrong!!! Nighty Nighty when the birdie takes flighty, does he find accused insanity. Nighty Nighty do you like reality?" Nightwing stares, befuddled, into Tim’s manic gaze. "Tim-"

"Nuh-uh. I'm fronting now. You wanted insanity and now your wish came true- turn that frown, upside down!! Daddy does so love a smile. He cut one for me, see?" At the words, Tim gestures to his scarred face.

The assembled (captured) heroes only manage to stare in confused horror as Bruce closes his eyes in resignation.

"Junior,"

"Yes Batsy?"

"Could you let us go?"

Junior hummed, peering at Batman for a moment, before grinning again, body moving in a mockery of a fluttering bird, "What do you get, when packaged is insanity?"

Bruce looks at him helplessly, "I don't know. What?"

JJ's grin takes an increasingly sinister edge, "a birthday present." Bruce winces in response. "Ah."

A confused Green Lantern cuts in, "Bats? What's he on about?"

Bruce grunts, shifts, and then sighs. Regret tinges his voice as he speaks. "It appears... Junior is taking revenge on Tim's behalf."

Junior cackles. "Batsy, Batsy. Theres a nugget of thought after all- you should drip it till it falls..."

Only one day left!

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.

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

FIRST POST EVER AAAAAA

Merry Chrimah everyone!!