#I have a lot of hope that this Batman can do better as a parent than his previous incarnations | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jasmines-library · 9 months ago

Note

👀 'tis me, i loved the other one so much ❤️❤️❤️, and am back with this wAcky idea muahahaaa:

batboy (you choose) x villain!reader

they are supposed to hate each other because of circumstances (you choose) BUT they got caught in a fight and are working together. after that fight, batboy finds that reader is actually a HUGE softie, and has never really had relationships, and when batboy does find out, he teases reader to embarrassment. they end up falling in love they kiss and fluffy things, under the moonlight, but then reader goes spiraling. like- is it safe to do this? is it okay to show weakness like that? will they put batboy in danger? and they are on the verge of a panic attack. they run away from batboy, which breaks both of them 🥹. reader avoids batboy for months, not really coping with their feelings, having panic attacks every night and all. and then one night, batboy sees reader fighting in an alley. reader takes out the thugs quickly and batboy approaches, and he can see through reader's eyes a whirlwind of emotions and it breaks his heart... and then they somehow make up and a lot of fluff pleeasee <3 (omg it's not totally angst 🥹)

ilyyy muah! (platonic ofc 😘)

Bullet With Butterfly Wings

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Note: This is so cute! I love this idea and I hope you like it. I just wanted to make a side note and say that i am queer, and whilst I am very happy to write romantically for the batboys, It may not be super great (which is why most of my work is platonic tbh) so apologies in advance for that. I also chose to write for Jay so I hope that's okay!

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Minor injuries, self doubt, manipulative parent (bane) but only brief, swearing teasing, kissing but no smut (SFW)

Word Count: 5k (it took me 40 years but it was worth it)

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

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Jason Todd was your enemy.

That is what you have always been told. It had been ingrained in you since you were very young. Batman and his band of proteges were a nuisance. Bothers. Vermin that needed to be exterminated from Gotham. Your father had countless rivalries: and that had extended to you. Your whole life was dedicated to training to cause havoc and trying to remove Gothams vigilantes.

Jason Todd was your enemy. And you despised him. He despised you too. Not that you cared, he had every right to. Your father had broken his many times.

He had always been tricky. He slunk around the shadows and always put a stop to your fun. His brothers weren’t much better. So when he was killed… you should have been ecstatic. You should have clenched your fists in rage when he returned…but instead you felt…lost.

Jason Todd was your enemy. So why were you helping him…?

You had heard the commotion from nearly a block over. The cacophony of shattering glass, the ricochet of bullets followed by the screeching of the building's alarm: you were over there speedily, tugging your pistols from your holsters as you weaved towards the orange glow of the flickering lights.

The building was completely destroyed. The windows were smashed in, spidering where the bullets had passed through them or jagged where what looked like a brick had been lobbed into it. The frames of the windows were completely broken too, splintering under the brute force of the coloured bandits that had weasled their way inside. Dressed in unsubtle colours, they seemed to be searching for something; they overturned desks and sent an array of papers scattering to the ground. It was that or they were just looking to have fun. You smirked, taking a step closer to the building ready to join them but then you caught a flash of the triangular emblem they had haphazardly spray painted on the back of their jackets and cursed. Safe to say that they weren’t going to tolerate you being near them. Your father had royally pissed them off. More than once. But who were you to back down from a fight?

Shouldering your weapons, you stepped closer crouching to try and keep out of their sight. It was going to be much easier for you if you could take them by surprise. Much more entertaining for you too. Though it seemed that luck wasn’t on your side because one of them, a tall girl with blonde hair she had tied back in a braid, turned her head just before you could dash out of the way and with a cry of your alias, all heads turned to you.

There was no use hiding now your cover was blown so with your guns raised high you aimed and fired. They were quick to retaliate and with their the sheer number of them it was difficult to predict their movements and stay out of their line of fire despite all of your training. The whole ordeal was a mess, bullets and punches flew left, right and centre. The whole ordeal only got a fuck ton more complicated when he arrived. The knight in fucking black and red armour. He perched on top of the roof, teetering dangerously to the edge, before landing on his feet only a few metres away, no doubt with a smug grin hidden behind his red mask. It didn’t do him much good. You knew exactly who he was and it hadn’t taken you much to figure it out. But perhaps that was because you were much more perceptive than most. Perhaps it was because you spent far too much time thinking about him.

Red Hood stood towering over you, glaring at you through his brows. He tutted. “Y/N Bane. Should have known you would be here.”

“And miss the chance to beat your pretty face?” You mocked. “You should know better.”

Red Hood rolled his eyes, shifting his weight as he reached for his weapon. He looked as though he was going to say something; another jest or sly remark, but the moment was ruined when one of the bandits ran up behind him bearing a weapon he intended to plunge into the vigilantes side. However he was much quicker, twisting around to grab the boy by his wrists and flinging him over his shoulder. He landed with a grunt before trying to grab at Red Hood's legs. You beat him to it though, landing a harsh blow to his back and sending him slumping back to the ground.

That seemed to set the rest of them off and all of a sudden the pair of you were surrounded. The street quickly became a flurry of punches and rounds of bullets that lodged themselves in the crackstone bricks or ricocheted off of the metal pipes with a cloud clang. None of them found their mark. Strange for a group of people who wielded their weapons so confidently.

It seemed to be going well. Some sort of unseen rivalry seemed to bloom between you and Red Hood, trying to see who could take the most thugs down. Those that didn’t flee dropped like flies. But you were outnumbered. And even though the pair of you were twice as skilled as them combined, you began to find it difficult to push them back.

Darting into the building to shelter from their hail of bullets, you managed to take down the pair that were hurtling things at Hood. And then it all fell silent.

Exhaling heavily, you wiped the sweat from your brow and holstered your weapons after checking the coast was clear. Smirking, you slid out of the doorway ready to jest to the vigilante. But he seemed to be nowhere to be seen. You rolled your eyes. Coward.

“Given up already?” You jested. “Honestly for a man of your size it thought that you would last a lot longer than-”

Your stomach sank when you turned the corner and saw the vigilante hunched up against the wall, his one hand pressed firmly into the wall, the other pushing hard up against his right side. His breaths came in short, ragged gasps as he tried to catch his breath, his back still turned away from you. You furrowed your brow, taking a hesitant step toward him. It was then that you noticed the crimson that oozed between his fingers.

“Here to finish me off?” He spat, words laced with a thick and potent venom.

“I’m thinking about it.”

He turned toward you, his body jolting in agony as he twisted. From there you could see the two small but ragged circles that jutted out from his suit; one above his left hip and the other a few inches to the right of it. Only one of them seemed to have an exit wound.

“Get on with it then.” He grumbled trying to keep his composure. You could see the way his legs trembled as he tried to keep his composure. “They’re not coming any time soon.” He gestured to his coms. The screen was blank. Broken. “Comms are down.” his voice was torn up by a sickening cough. “But I'd get it over with quickly so you can leave before they catch your trail.”

Your fingers twitched as you reached for your pistol. Instinct. You should finish him off. It would make your father proud. It would end your years of resentment and it would bring you oh so much glorious fame. He was already practically cowering on the ground; an easy kill. Jason Todd was your enemy. You should have pulled the trigger. But instead, you found yourself darting forward as Jason as his body careened forwards.

When Jason awoke, he did so in a panic. His eyes were wide and his heart pounded in his chest. It was only when he tried to push himself up and was met by a sudden pinch in his side that everything came back to him. He didn’t recognise his surroundings. The walls were decorated in artwork that he didn’t recognise, and he was laying in a bed with streets that belonged to a stranger. He scrambled for his pistols only to realise that they weren’t there. And that his mask had been removed.

“Lay back down, you idiot.” You scolded from across the room. “Your wounds are still healing, And relax.” You gestured to his mask and the top half of his suit that you had folded up and laid on a chair. It was then that he realised that he was not wearing his shirt and that the eternity of his torso was wrapped securely in bandages. “I knew who you were.”

Jason had to do a double take. But he soon turned sour. “What the fuck am I doing here?”

You scoffed, placing the glass of water you had brought in on the bedside table. “A thank you would be nice.”

“I’m serious” he narrowed his eyes on you.

You faltered, eyeing him cautiously and pursing your lips. Truthfully, you had struggled to get him back to your apartment. You had to move fast with the amount of blood he had lost. You were glad that he lost consciousness when he did because although you should have left him there to rot… you couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him writhe beneath you as you dug a pair of tweezers under his skin to dig out the bullet.

The vigilante eyed you cautiously, still confused as to why you had decided to drag him all the way back here. It couldn’t have been easy for you. He watched as you dug around in one of the draws in your bedroom. He had never seen you properly without your suit on. And he could fully see your face now it wasn’t obscured by the black and white mask that sat comfortably around your eyes. Jason stared for a little too long and found his thoughts wandering a little too far for his liking. He was supposed to loathe you. He was supposed to think you were vile. But yet again…you were the furthest thing from what he had convinced himself to believe.

“You’re staring.” You could feel his eyes on you.

Jason’s cheeks flushed and he turned his gaze away. Rolling your eyes you tossed him a bottle of painkillers that you had pulled out of the mess of your draw. They rattled as they hit the side of the plastic container when he caught them.

“Take some of those. They should help with the ache.

He gave you an unamused look, hand hovering on the seal.

“Relax, bird boy. If I wanted you dead you would be.”

Jason popped two in his mouth hesitantly and swallowed them down with the water you had left on the side. A loud buzzing sounded from out of the room. You disappeared briefly out of the doorway. Not being able to see you made him nervous, but you returned soon with two items in your hand. The first, his phone and the source of the incessant buzzing, and the second his comlink which was no longer dark like it was before but instead was lit up around the crack on the screen. You handed the two to him.

“You might want to let them know that you’re alive. That damn thing’s been going off all night.” You told him.

“You fixed it.” Jason gawped, turning the small device over in his hands.

You shrugged. “Had to make sure the GPS was off. Besides, I had nothing better to do.”

After sending a quick message to reassure his family that he was alive, Jason frowned at you. “Why are you helping me?”

You faltered. Why were you helping him? It went completely against everything you had been taught. But you hadn’t really thought much about what you were doing. It was like your body was on autopilot, moving without thought of feeling and just following someone’s orders blindly. You shrugged at him. “It just felt like the right thing to do.”

Jason practically laughed. “But doesn’t that go against your entire image?”

“There is a lot you don’t know about me, Todd.”

The vigilante smirked, the corners of his lips creeping upward. Snarky. He liked you. “Then perhaps I should get to know you more.”

No matter how hard he tried, Jason couldn’t take his mind off you. Even once he had long returned home, he couldn’t get the image of your face out of his thoughts. There was something about you that was just so enthralling to him. And that bothered him greatly. His hours passed by quickly as he thought of you. What you had done. And god he was so conflicted. But the part of him that seemed to want to inch closer to you won.

After struggling to pull on his hoodie, no thanks to the dull ache that still emimated from his wounds, he slipped on his shoes and trudged down the stairs. He was just about to slip out of the door when a voice stopped him.

“Jay?” Dick asked, scowling at his brother. “Where are you going?”

“Out?”

“Again? You’ve only just got back after completely wiping off the radar and now you’re sneaking off?”

“I wasn’t sneaking.”

Dick cocked his brow.

The younger Wayne sighed and with a roll of his eyes told him defensively “It’s nothing, Grayson.”

Jason slipped out of the door.

Even though he had only been there once, Jason seemed to practically have the route to your apartment engraved in his mind. After all, he had walked in over and over again in his head as he thought about returning to see you. Although he was confident on how to get there, when he stood in front of the door with his fist poised to rap against the panel, a very rare occurrence happened to Jason. He was nervous. His stomach fluttered and churned underneath the bandages and then the door flew open.

And there you stood. You looked more awake than before. Perhaps because you had actually managed to get some sleep since he had left. It had been a well needed rest. The ache in your bones from the previous night had nearly vanished once you awoke. However, similarly to the vigilante, when you awoke you too had found your mind wandering back to the boy you had dragged back into your home.

There he was. Standing in your doorway.

“Todd?” You darkened your brow. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I came to get to know you.”

Gripping his wrist you pulled him inside and shut the door behind you.

You and Jason had grown close very quickly. After he had slunk up to your apartment, the pair of you exchanged numbers. This led to many rendezvous and you began to actually enjoy spending time with him. He was an intricate person. He had so many layers to him, each one more interesting than the next. He had also discovered that there was much more to you than your facade let on. You were kind, funny, and deeply compassionate despite your history. It was ironic really. But that made Jason love you even more. He loved the way you smiled with your eyes and the way they lit up when you saw something you adored. He loved the curves of your cheekbones, your nose, your jawline and your figure. He had grown to love your laugh and the way your voice softened when you were tired. He loved all of you. But he wasn’t sure if you so much as even liked him back.

It would be a complete lie to say didn’t. Slowly, the pair of you began to open up to each other. You knew little about his past and hearing him open up about it brought tears to your eyes. That was the first time that you had hugged him. Wrapping him up in your arms seemed to come almost naturally and despite the fact that Jason wasn’t a huge people person, he found himself leaning into your embrace. The two of you began to learn things about each other very quickly. You would tell him something and he would exchange the favour. Countless hours were spent as the two of you messaged back and forth or lounged around on your couch as you talked over the movies you tried to watch but failed because you couldn’t tear your eyes off of him. He was smart and he was kind and it was nice to have someone to really open up to. You had never really had that before Jason. Of course, when he found out about that and your lack of relationships, he couldn’t help but tease you. He thought it was adorable the way that your cheeks flushed and you shrunk into yourself.

Tonight, you were sitting on a hillside. It was a little far out of the city, but Jay had insisted that it was going to be worth it. Reluctantly, but with a little grin, you had followed him up the small hill.

The view was truly magnificent. From here, you had a view of the entire city. You could see all of the lights flickering throughout the skyscrapers and the neon lights of the signs as they reflected off of the dark windows. But what was even more magical were the stars. They twinkled above you brighter than a thousand diamonds all at once. It made your breath catch in your throat. With all of the light pollution in Gotham, it was hard to see the stars. But out here you could see them in all of their beauty. So as you lay back in the grass, basking in the moonlight while Jay pointed out the constellations, you twisted your body to sit face him. He returned the motion, looking at you with gentle eyes and a smile touching his lips.

“Thank you for bringing me here, Jay.” You told him. “It truly is beautiful here.”

He nodded, speaking softly. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I’ve never seen so many stars.” You said, inching yourself up so that you were sitting. “Though I suppose that’s because I’ve never really been out of Gotham.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. This was something new. “No?”

You shook your head as he too sat up. “Never. My father never let me.”

This surprised the vigilante somewhat, but he remained silence and let you continue.

“He’s… protective. And somewhat controlling.” you trailed off. “I know he just wants me to follow in his footsteps but for my entire life I’ve been following his command blindly. It’s always what he wants. He’s never once stopped and thought about what I want.”

Jason reached out a delicate hand to brush away a stray hair, tucking it back behind your ear. “And what is it that you want?”

“This.” You breathed out.

Tenderly, he leaned forward to interlock his lips with yours. They were soft and gentle and he kissed you with a gentle amorous touch. His hands brushed the back of your hair, tangling in your locks as you returned the kiss, leaning into his touch.

Being with Jason was more than you could ever have imagined. It was a different kind of love. Something you had never really experienced before. It was filled with gentle exchanges of touches, reassurances of your love for each other, gifts and small trinkets that you would buy for each other when it reminded you of them and so so much more. With Jay, you could just be yourself and he loved you for it. There was no more trying to keep up a facade that perhaps was much more of an act influenced by your father than you thought it was. Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

You and Jay had been going out for a few months when it happened. You had returned home after a late night stroll with him to find your father sitting on your couch. He was angry, face contorting with dark lines when he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Dad?” You asked, trying to hide the evidence of your outing from him. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t play coy with me.” He spat standing to tower above you. “I know exactly that’s going on with you and that little bird.”

He took a step forward, intending to intimidate you but you held your ground.

“How long did you think you could keep that hidden?”

“I don’t see what that’s any of your business.” You grit your teeth.

“I am your father. I made you who you are. Without me you would be nothing.” His words dripped with venom as he backed you into the wall.

“That’s exactly the point! You've never once stopped to consider what I want!”

Bane's face hardened and he leaned forward to speak to you in a scarily hushed tone and he gripped your wrists so hard you were sure it was going to leave a bruise later. “Now you listen here you insolent little girl. Either you stop running around with Bruce Wayne’s little protege or I will end him and I will make you watch. You understand.”

You didn’t meet his eyes. Instead you found a spot on the carpet to burn your gaze onto.

“I said, do you understand?” He raised his voice and you could feel your heart pounding against your rib cage.

“Yes, Father.” You admitted with defeat. He released his firm grip.

“Good.” Bane moved back towards the door. “Because I mean it.”

Without another word he turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him.

You crumpled to the floor, your body wracked with sobs that forced their way out from your ragged gasps.

And then your phone buzzed. His name displayed brightly on the screen.

Jason: Hey baby. D’you get in okay?

It was one of his usual messages. He sent them often when he couldn’t walk you back to your door. Sometimes even when he had walked you back and made sure you got inside with a parting kiss. You couldn’t blame him for being cautious. You had seen eachother fretting for the other when you came home with injuries. It was normal for Jason. But now it felt so wrong.

Opening the message your fingers hesitated over the keypad as you thought about your fathers warning. Was he right? Were you putting Jay at risk. Would it just be better if you. No. You tried to clear the thought from your mind.

You: Fine. Sorry for keeping you waiting.

You replied, waiting for the small bubble to finish typing.

Jason: you sure you’re okay baby?

You: of course. Why wouldn’t I be?

Jason: No reason. I just had this feeling.

You: Oh? Well I’m fine I promise. Night Jay.

You were in fact, not fine.

The next time you saw Jason your heart was racing. And not in the good way. In the “I think I’m going to hurl” way.

You had been thinking about him nonstop. About how much joy he brought you. How you could never fathom leaving him. But Bane's words kept replaying in your head. Seeing him had brought a part of your old self back. The part that you had long since tried to move past. Was being with Jason making you weak? You had told him so much that it felt as if he knew you inside and out. Was it okay to show vulnerability to him like that? You had been thinking a million thoughts at once. But the one that stuck out most to you was ‘am I putting Jason in danger?’ Would your selfishness of wanting to be with him cost him his life. You had tried to tell yourself that you were being silly. That Jason could handle himself. He was the infamous Red Hood. But you knew Jay. And you knew Bane. So you knew that if he put his mind to it, Jason Todd would die.

And that was why you needed to leave.

When Jason arrived he greeted you with a bright grin that only made your stomach sink deeper into your abyss of guilt. You took a deep breath, trying to hide the tremble of your body and the tears in your eyes. You could not bring yourself to return his mannerisms.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” He frowned as he approached you.

“Jay…. I-I” your voice caught in your throat: a reminder of how little you wanted this to happen. But you had to. For his sake “I can’t do this anymore.”

Jason’s face dropped. “W-what?”

You honestly don’t think you had ever seen him look more hurt. Another wound to add to the collection.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You gestured between the two of you. “ I love you, Jason. But I can’t carry on being with you.”

You took a step back and Jason reached out to try and touch you but stopped, cutting himself off short. “Y/N what’s happened? Please tell me baby. What have I done wrong?”

“Nothing, Jay.” You shook your head, blinking away the tears that fell. “That’s the worst part. Nothing at all.”

You avoided Jason Todd like the plague after that. No matter how much you mourned his face and playful smile. His flurries of texts and calls went unanswered until they slowly thinned out. Never stopping, but as the summer turned to autumn, there were less and less of them.

You could tell it broke him as much as it broke you.

You hardly left the house after that fateful day. Everything seemed to remind you of him and his stupid voice. You didn’t want to run the risk of seeing him because you knew the second you did you would break down again completely.

Your father stopped by occasionally. He would tell you that he was proud of you but you knew he was just trying to manipulate you back into his little copy of himself. You swore to yourself that you wouldn’t go back there, but after a short while you grew desperate. Perhaps it was because you had grown bored of staring at the same blank spot in the wall and the empty space on your bed, or perhaps it was because you secretly hoped that you would catch a glimpse of that infamous red suit.

It seemed that your wishes do come true.

You heard the fighting from around the corner. The cacophony of fists finding their marks. When you rounded the corner you saw him. The red of his suit outlined by the dark of the black to contrast. Your first thought was to run. To bolt back down the alleyway. But you weren’t a coward. You had had enough of hiding. You longed to see him and this was your chance. Red Hood was loosing.

With one swift action, you leaped towards the thugs grabbing one and sending her careening towards the ground. Red Hood had to do a double take when he saw the flash of your suit in the light. But there was no doubt that it was you. After months you had appeared.

Motivated by you appearance it didn’t take long of the two of you to take out the thugs. And when the last one dropped to the ground. Your first thought was to run. But then he said your name and you were glued in place. God you had longed to hear that voice.

“Y/N? Y/N please look at me” you had never heard so much softness in Jason’s voice before. He too was scared.

He was right behind you. Close enough to touch. You could sense him. His hands itching to reach out and gather you up in his arms.

Slowly you turned around to face him and your gaze met his for the first time in months. And his heart wanted to break. Jason had always been good at reading people, but he could see the whirlwind of emotions swirling in your gaze.

“I'm sorry.” You blurted out.

Jay hummed. Although he would never admit how much he had hurt during your absence, he had a feeling that you weren’t not thinking properly and had likely been influenced by someone else. The fear in your eyes confirmed his suspicions. “I know.” Jason wanted to reach out and snatch you up to pull into his embrace. “I know it was your father.”

You felt as if the whole world had been lifted off of your chest when he breathed out those words.

“Truly, I didn’t want to do it, Jay. But he threatened to- I couldn’t let him hurt you.” Your voice broke and your lips trembled as your eye filled with tears. And that was the final straw for the vigilante. He took another step forward and wrapped you up in a tight hug. He had missed you so much.

“Shh.” He hushed. “I forgive you.”

You sniffled looking up at him. “Really?”

“Of course I do.” He nodded, tucking your head under his chin. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Me too.” You muttered.

“So what do you say?” He asked. “You want to give this another go?”

“If you’ll have me.”

“Oh darling, I would trade the world for one night with you.”

And with that, Jason Todd leaned down and kissed you once more.

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BATFAM TAGS:

@hearts4robs

@hell-o-kittys

@xxrougefangxx

@aestheticdasies

@mamapucket

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side note in case it bothers anyone: I'm somewhat aware that Bane has a daughter canonically, which is sort of why I went with him. If you wanted to you could interpret this as the reader also being created in a lab, or being his biological daughter (how I imagined it) but it doesn't really matter. I also chose bane because I didn't want to go with the joker again, but this this also doesn't really matter as the reader kinda just becomes her own villain.

#batfam x reader #Jason Todd x Reader #dc #batfam #dc x reader #Batfamily x reader #enemies to lovers #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #red hood #red hood x reader

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rubydubydoo122 · 1 year ago

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I've seen a lot of discourse about who the angry Robin was, but like... why do we have to define the Robins in terms of that?

Dick's Robin embodied Light. He was the Foil to Batman's Darkness. His story is meant to parallel Bruce's and it's because of the reason he became Robin in the first place. He became Robin, not to avenge his parents- he didn't want to kill Tony Zucco. He became Robin in a very similar way that Jason became the Red Hood; To make sure it doesn't happen to anyone again.

Jason's Robin embodied Hope. He was a character who was given opportunities and he made the best of them. He was given a home, and a family, and education and he loved it all because at some point he could only hope to have those things. It gave him the outlook of 'If things could get better for me, than things can get better for other people, if I do what I can help them.' To Jason, Robin meant giving people hope, and that's why Jason was deeply affected by Gloria Stanson's death. She had lost hope.

Tim's Robin embodied Determination. No matter how many times he was rejected by Bruce, he still stood by his side. No matter how many of his family and friends died, he still kept fighting. No matter how hard he was beat, he still got up.

Stephanie's Robin didn't have a long run, and I sadly don't really know how to quantify her Robin. Maybe spite, I feel like. Because she became Spoiler to stop her dad, and be like 'haha, L' and also because she became Robin after her and Tim broke up. Idk, if any of you have a better idea pls tell me

Damian's Robin embodied redemption. You can tell from the beginning of his run, to current comics how much he has grown and changed. When he was younger, he didn't really understand how the LOA morals were wrong, but then he learned, and he's constantly trying to move away from that and lead with more compassion in his own Damian way.

Duke's Robin embodied the people. He was what they needed at the time. I don't really know much about his Robin either, so pls lmk if it's not that.

#dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #stephanie brown #damian wayne #duke thomas #robin #nightwing #red hood #red robin #spoiler dc #batgirl #signal #batfam #what it means to be robin

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gothamite-rambler · 14 days ago

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Gordon meeting the 1st Robin

Batman: Commissioner Gordon, I'm here.

Gordon: Finally—

Gordon noticed the young black-haired boy next to Batman, dressed in a bright and colorful hero suit.

Gordon (pointing at the kid): Who's that?

Batman: The child next to me?

Gordon: No, the Bat-Signal. Yes, I mean the kid!

Batman looked down at his Robin, who is mesmerized by the bright lights of the Bat-Signal. Batman turned his to face Gordon.

Robin (waving): Hi!

Gordon (slightly concerned): Hey, little kid. Oh, you're so cute. I'm just going to talk to your guardian for a second.

Gordon looked directly into Batman's eyes with a judgmental stare.

Batman (unaware how odd this looks): What? Is it the costume I gave him because that was his idea.

Gordon: Oddly enough, that's not my issue; he looks adorable in it.

Robin smiled while swaying back and forth.

Robin: Awww, thank you!

Gordon (frowning): Batman, I can forgive you for many things. The numerous parking tickets that you haven't paid for your Batmobile, the fact that I had to install a giant Bat-Signal on the building and you have not paid me the rest of the money for that yet, and even the time that you hit a fire hydrant and left a note saying ‘sorry'.

Batman (interrupting): I am sorry about that, by the way.

Gordon: Doesn't fix the fact that you haven't paid me for that either! Not the point, why is there a precious child next to you?

Batman: Well... I have a sidekick now.

Gordon: You have a seven-year-old!

Robin (offended): Hey, I am 8!

Robin held up both hands with four fingers on each of them.

Batman: He's 8 and an orphan. Not as weird.

Gordon took a deep breath, trying to accept that this is reality.

Gordon: I should not have to explain to you how that is not better! That's infinitely weirder, not going to lie.

Batman (hiding his embarrassment over his bad wording): I am now becoming aware of how this looks, but he is legally adopted by me. That is all you need to know.

Gordon (taking a deep breath): I have so many follow-up questions, and as a cop, I need you to answer a few of them. I won't be mad if they don't lead me to arresting you because I do kind of like you.

Batman (taken back): Oh... Thanks. Do I have to tell you, though?

Gordon (sternly): Yes.

Batman (relenting): I didn't kidnap him. I legally adopted him after his parents died, through no fault of my own—I realize how weird that sounds, but it's true. I took the kid in, and he's my... son—ch—wa-sidekick! Yes. It's not weird! It's not. He just needed a home. He's a good fighter too. Right, Robin?

Robin (confidently): I can do flips and tricks!

Batman: Yes, he can do flips and tricks. I like him so far; he’s... he’s neat.

Batman patted Robin on the head. Robin smiled giggling.

Gordon (smiling softly): Aww... Dang it, that is cute. Just don't get him hurt, okay?

Batman (sheepishly): Mm hm... Definitely did not have to deal with him getting eaten by a Venus flytrap. Twice. Yeah, we dealt with Poison Ivy earlier this week.

Gordon removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes in frustration.

Gordon: Right... He's walking across the edge of the building, by the way.

Batman (not turning around): Yep, he has a lot of energy.

Robin: This is awesome!

Batman spotted the child flipping on the ledge effortlessly. The new father groaned.

Batman (monotone): I'll go get him.

Batman reached out to grab Robin, but the lively young boy leaped off the ledge and darted away, laughter trailing behind him. Gordon observed the scene in confusion as the normally reserved Batman sprinted after his mischievous youthful partner.

Gordon (wistful): My kid is hyper like that... I hope she got her milk tonight.

Gordon wiped an imaginary tear from his eye.

Batman (trying to grab his son): Robin, stop running!

Robin: No!

Batman: Dang it, child! Stop!

Robin: No! I want to play!

Batman: The night of patrolling isn't over yet.

Robin: I'm hungry!

Batman: I got you McDonald's earlier!

Robin (demanding): I want more McDonald's!

Gordon (chuckling): You get used to it. Tell him you'll punish him if he doesn't listen.

Batman stopped running, realizing that this could work.

Batman (sternly): Robin, if you don't stop running, I will make sure you have no cookies for dessert at dinner tomorrow!

Robin stopped running, huffed, and went back to Batman's side. The little hero crossed his arms, pouting.

Batman: Thank you, kiddo.

Batman patted the boy on the head again. Robin giggled and hugged the man's waist, surprising the adult hero.

Gordon (smiling): Okay... I'm not too worried about this anymore.

Second Robin

Third Robin

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dxrksong · 2 years ago

Text

Jason 13 au memes part two

Bruce: *slams a door on accident*

Batfam: you slam door on Brood? YOU SLAM DOOR ON BROOD LIKE GROUNDINGS???! OH!! OH JAIL FOR FATHER!!! JAIL FOR FATHER FOR 1000 YEARS!!!!

Jason 13, calling Danny on speed dial: JAIL FOR FATHER!!!!

-----------

Kitty:

Jason:

Kitty: YOU DIDN'T TELL ME YOU WERE BUILT LIKE A BRICK HOUSE!!!!!

Jason: to be fair, I forgot???

Kitty: speaking of which, hows that going out for you?

Jason: it's been....emotional.....not to mention the whord of shades trying to mother hen me 24/7

Kitty: I've been meaning to ask you about those.

Jason: I thought you wanted to talk about our relationship?

Kitty: we have communication rings, we can do that later. I'm more worried about the tall intimidating city spirit behind you.

Jason: oh that's just Gotham

Kitty:

Gotham: *tall black lady that can kick your ass* ;)

Kitty, sweating:

Jason: don't worry, she's nice. She's just a litte over protective of her kids.

Kitty: there's MORE of you????

----------

Kitty:

The batfam:

Kitty, surrounded by baby ghost cores like stray kittens: I don't know what's worse. How much they look like you or the inane urge to just adopt them all, oh nooooooooooo!!

Jason: now you know how it feels old man.

Bruce: *confused in bat*

--------------

Kitty:

Catwoman:

Kitty: crimes?

CatWoman: hell yes, kitten!

[LATER]

Jason: WHO THE FUCK DYED MY SUIT PINK?!?!?!

--------------

Kitty: you know considering my name it's a little odd that you're the one being all cat like.

Jason, laying his head on her lap while she cards through his hair: shut uuup, it's not like I can ask anyone else for attention like this. It'd be weeeeiiiird.

Kitty: *sighs* better hope you didn't leave your comm on.

Jason:

Kitty: Johnny.

Jason: I can't remember if I turned it off or not

Dick: you know little wing, if you wanted attention you could've just asked-

Jason: SHIT!!!!!!

---------------

Spectra: so are you still dating him or..?

Kitty: you know? We died basically around the same time and we were introduced to each other first before anyone else, so we kinda just stuck together. And really everyone had kinda just started calling us boyfriend and girlfriend, and we just didn't think otherwise to correct them.

Ember: wait, so you two HAVEN'T been dating??

Kitty: it was never official, if anything it was an ongoing bet to see how long it would last before people started to notice. We're more like.....siblings but not quite. Or emotional support ghosts for each other.

Spectra: that....actually makes a lot of sense. You two are hardly seen without the other and you haven't exactly been dead for long, so it would make sense you're still settling down from the trauma of dying.

Kitty: did you just psychoanalise me?!

Spectra: You basically gave it to me on a silver platter!! It's a force of habit!!!

--------------

Jason: hey squishy

Blob ghost in Johnny 13's bike: ?

Jason: think you can get this blob ghost out of my corpse-

Squishy: *Rev's backwards out of the bat cave*

Jason: ouch! Not even my own pet will help a zombie out.

------------

Danny: so how you feelin Jason?

Jason, sarcastically: oh just great, I've only had ONE murderous breakdown this week due to Zom!

Danny: Zom????

Jason: the blob ghost possessing me.

Danny: You named it????!

Jason: WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!?! IT'S A FREAKING BLOB GHOST, IT'S NOT LIKE IT HAD A NAME BEFORE!!!!!

Danny:

Jason:

Danny: I'm telling frostbite-

Jason: Don't you DARE!

--------------

Dick: Hey, Jason? Can you come over? I need your help.

Jason, muffled by a humming noise: sorry, I don't think that'll be possible at the moment?

Dick: what do you mean by that Jay, and what is that sound?

Jason, swallowed into the shadows and getting fussed over by the shades: would you believe me if I said I got readopted by shades?

Dick: U Wot?

---------------

Batman: Jason, what's this about shades adopting you??

Jason: look I didn't ask for it, it just happened.

Bruce: and are they....good? Parents?

Jason: well they like putting me in shadow jail alot.

Batman: Shadow jail?????

Jason: not to mention the constant babying-

Bruce: WHAT?!?!

Jason: ?! Jeez Bruce!! Wha-

Bruce: YOU LET THEM BABY YOU?!?!?!

Jason:

Bruce: I HAVENT BEEN ABLE TO DO THAT SINCE THE FIGHTING STARTED!!!!

Jason: .....are-are you JEALOUS?!

Bruce:

Bruce >:'(

--------------

Dick: ok, so to recap! *pulls out a projector and a Google slide document*

Dick: Jason got reanimated by something going awry and messing with reality, accidentally reviving Jason. *click* He gets scooped up by Talia and revives him fully. *click* this leaves him with powers and uncontrollable emotional problems *click* apparently he can talk to ghosts and they are often friendly to him back. *click* so much so, according to Jason himself, he has been adopted by the entirety of the ghost population in Gotham *click* including the SPIRIT of Gotham herself.

*it's a vague drawing of what Gotham looks like*

Dick: any questions?

Tim: yeah, uh. Who's that?

Danny: hi! :D

Dick: no clue, next question!

Danny: I'm phantom! I used to beat Jason up when he used to go by Johnny 13!

Batfam:

Cass: does the Lazarus pit taste like lemonade?

Dick: no, it tastes more like sprite.

Duke: wait-how do you-

Dick: NEXT QUESTION!

--------------

Jason, 'living on his own':

The Shades: :)

Squishy: :)

Gotham sometimes: :)

Kitty: :P

Danny: >:)

The various bird and/or bat: :)

Damien: :

Ember: lmao I'm the older one now! >:D

Spectra: (usually only when Kitty shows up)

Skulker: (target practice training) >:)

Technus: (built Johnny's bike believe it or not) >:)

The box ghost: (this man has dad energy, change my mind) >:)c

The lunch lady: (every growing ghost needs proper calories!) :)

Jason: ...............I need a bigger house....

-----------------

Batman steps into the batcave to see green fire everywhere, Jason in his ghost form, and Damien trying to stab him with a sword.

Damien: it was Todd's idea!

Jason: Damien, you fucking snitch!

Batman: language!

Damien: yeah Hood, watch your fucking language!

Batman: DAMIEN!

(Reference to this)

--------------

Jason: remind me why you're here again?

Danny: what? Like I can't visit my favorite Rouge?

Jason: I thought that was plasmius?

Danny: he's my arch nemesis, not a rouge! He doesn't count!

Jason: if you say so. But why am I your favorite, and I'm pretty sure I no longer qualify to be one of your rouges?

Danny: dude you're the only one I can have a serious conversation about! Vlad's a fruitloop!!

Jason: yeah but at least he knows what he's taking about half the time.

Danny: psh. 'Half the time'

Danny:

Danny: you can still turn into Johnny, right?

Jason: I mean if I concentrate real hard I guess? But it'll take a lot of energy.

Danny: wanna convince Vlad he's going insane?

Jason: only if I can record it.

Danny: DEAL!

#danny phantom #dp x dc #jason todd #red hood 13 #halfa jason #dc x dp #johnny 13 #dc red hood #dc x dp au #dc x dp crossover #jason 13 #more memes #kitty danny phantom #dp spectra #ember danny phantom #johnny 13's shadow #shades #blob ghosts

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redrobinsrobbingrobin · 17 days ago

Text

Here is the aforementioned essay! I said I’d get it done (and my notes were pretty detailed anyway)

Dick's robin is representative of the distinction of youth culture coming to light as more kids distanced themselves from the conservative views and began questioning authority figures, during the 40s, when they questioned the actual effects and causes of war, questioned the authority behind it and the reason for not intervening earlier. Batman as a character was also introduced in this period, and is a call for social change. He is a billionaire who wants to help the lower class. He empathises with the people, he sympathises with the child that lost his parents in front of him, and death is a driving factor in both their lives. To me, this seems like a homage to the families who lot their children, their fathers, their brothers, to the war, and wanted to do and be better, to live their memory and be able to push through and help the world. Dick also puts McCarthyism into question, as he doesn't exactly obey Batman all the time, despite needing to. He questions Batman, he questions Bruce, he is rebellious and harsh, and angry, and maybe that's how he would have turned out, even without Bruce giving him a cape and weapons.he represents the beginnings of change, the start of hope after a war, the ability to raise yourself and your family above that.

Jason's post crisis character when referring to youth of the time is much like Tim's and Dick's. This was a period after wartime economy, where the majority of the population were people who couldn't fight in the war, where communism was a genuine fear, and his whole story line of 'crime alley, poor orphan, adopted by a billionaire,' pulls both capitalism and communism into question- why is there a billionaire when the people are suffering, and capitalism CAN help the few lucky enough to receive that help. In terms of youth attitudes, he came from a time of youth rebellion, evident in his later comics, where he pulled away from Batman which lead to his eventual death. He took more risks, he had an edge over Dick I terms of his street brawler style instead of Dick's grace in acrobatics. The older generations saw this rebellion of youth as off putting, and often refused to hire younger generations due to their more leftist views, and a perceived notion of them being radical and troublemakers. This stigma till exists today and is still evident in later Robin runs.

Tim’s characterisation as a representation if the youth is the most prominent to a modern audience, though, because he is representative of teens in the 90s/very early 2000s and they were attempting to get more teens into comics without it being seen as nerdy, however, this push for more youth diversity in comics prompted a huge shift in youth culture, where comics were now being seen as old people stuff and ‘nerd culture’ up until televised media (TV/movies) started adapting it to exclusively appeal to nerd audiences who didn’t want to watch new media, as it might mean letting go of old media. Televised adaptations also brought in new fans who could understand storylines visually and in a more efficient way than reading several decades worth of back reading comics could. Tim was a skateboarder and a photographer, and these pictures and excessive stalking of Batman and Robin could almost be seen as a teenage girl in the 90s having posters of her celebrity crush all over the walls. He also slept A LOT, which might be the writers trying to represent the youth as lazy in order to keep older readers and avoid being seen as 'pandering' to the youth.

Coincidentally, Steph was also introduced as a Robin during this period of the early 2000s which meant that DC were trying to ensure that women were being represented more in traditionally male media in order for the women’s equality movements to also be appealed to. She, as a character, does not fit into any stereotypical female character archetype (nosy reporter, damsel on distress, femme fatale) and is so evidently an individual of her own, without simply being a part of someone else’s character, like Tim’s. This shift in views towards women in comics was probably what stopped more comics from ‘fridging’ their female characters in order to elevate a male character’s story, even though Steph and Barbara were both pretty badly portrayed at the end of their individual runs (Killing Joke and No Man's Land, and Steph's baby). Her introduction as a Robin, 'the Girl Wonder' was so that Batman comics would appeal to more women, specifically, women who were actively less conservative and more likely to get into traditionally male medias, as many women in the 2000s were stepping out of conservative roles, and more were engaging in these 'nerdy' interests.

Damian’s introduction in a post 9/11 world, where the vilification of the LoA had reached a high and probably contributed to the extreme whitewashing of his character, sometimes seen in the DCAU, or even a lot in comics. He seems to feel ostracised by the rest of the family, because of his upbringing, the same way many Arabs and other ethnic minorities felt at this time. Damian being white passing also meant that he perhaps reflected the Arab youth in America who were not so outwardly ostracised by their peers due to the racial and religious tensions in the country. He was also introduced in or around 2006 (I can’t remember the exact date) where the youth were, again, largely viewed as rebellious or hooligans, which is NOT reflected in his character, not that I can think of any examples.

Anyway. That’s it for the essay, let me know if I missed something, or got something wrong, and thank you for reading till the end!

#batfam #batman #tim drake #dc comics #jason todd #damian wayne #dc #dick grayson #steph brown #dc robin #robin #robins #this took me about two hours yall better appreciate it

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 year ago

Text

The Other Half Part Twenty Three

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Notes: This is a long one y'all. There's more angst, BUT there's a fluffy ending, so. Ya just gotta trust me.

Length: 6K

Warnings: Angst that ends in fluff, so you're gonna suffer, but you're gonna be happy about it; canon-typical violence; a D-level DC villain that's usually more of a Superman baddie, but he's fought Batman once or twice, so.

Summary: When Michelle had announced that she would be moving to Keystone City, you’d burst into tears. Your other friends had passed it off as you being overcome by the news of your oldest and dearest friend moving, but Michelle knew you, and she knew better. It hadn’t taken her long to drag the truth out of you.

“I never liked him.”

Michelle’s flat insistence makes you splutter a laugh through your tears. You sniffle, raising both hands and scrubbing at your eyes, knowing that you're almost certainly ruining your makeup. You’ve tried to put on a brave face, but Michelle has known since you arrived that something was off. She’s banished everyone else from the kitchen, giving the two of you a quiet space to talk. The odd swell of laughter and conversation reaches you every few moments, reminding you that you’re having an incredibly sensitive conversation just a few feet away from people that would probably sell it to the Gotham Gazette for one corn chip.

“Yes, you did,” You argue, raising your hand and scrubbing a tear away.

“...I mean, a little.” Michelle rips a piece of paper towel off of the roll, passing it over. “Did he tell you why?”

You dab at your eyes, trying to piece a reasonable explanation together—one that wouldn’t shock Michelle and expose Bruce’s secret.

You had waited up for Bruce all night, but he’d never come back. At least, he hadn’t come back to you. You’d realized when you’d gone down for breakfast that Bruce had returned, but slept elsewhere—down in the bat cave, maybe, or in an entirely separate wing of the house? But there he was at the table, genially listening to your father discuss whether or not the Metropolis Metros had any chance of making the playoffs that year. You had gotten yourself some coffee and sat at the opposite end of the table, unable to catch Bruce’s eye. He was avoiding it; he was avoiding you. He’d kept that up as you’d seen your parents to the car, as you’d hugged your mother and dodged her attempts to discuss what had been said last night. You saw the firm handshake that Bruce had shared with your father, the strained smile that he’d managed as your father had insisted that he hoped that there weren't any hard feelings.

The two of you had stood side by side as the car pulled out of the driveway, hands to yourselves, eyes set on the fading red tail lights until they were out of sight.

“Can we talk about it?” You finally hedged.

“I don’t think there’s much to talk about.”

You turned to watch him stride away, stunned. It took you a moment to follow, taking the stairs two at a time to catch up.

“I think there’s a hell of a lot to talk about!”

“I don’t agree.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because they’re right.”

“Excuse me?”

“They’re right!” Bruce barked, whirling around to face you. You froze in place, eyes widening as his yell echoed in the foyer. “I can’t keep you safe.”

“You have kept me safe—You do keep me safe, Bruce!”

“If I could, you never would’ve gotten kidnapped in the first place!”

“I got out of there because of you—”

“You got in there because of me!”

“There are people in this world that are just plain greedy, Bruce. There’s nothing that you can do about that, it is not your fault.”

“It’s my fault that you of all people were taken, and as long as you and I are together, you will continue to be a target.”

“I don’t care!”

“I do!”

“Oh, so you get to go out every night and put people away and get the shit kicked out of you even though you know I hate it and that’s fine, right? Bruce Wayne can make his own damn decisions and put himself in as much danger as he wants, but I get into one little situation and that’s it? You’re decided? I don’t get a say in this?”

“You get a say. You have had a say, but I am through knowing that I’m endangering your life.”

“Well let’s think this through, then. Who else are you putting in harm’s way? Lucius, for one—”

“That’s enough—”

“You’re endangering Alfred. Are you telling him that you’re through putting him in danger?”

“Do not bring Alfred into this.”

“It’s a bullshit argument, Bruce.”

“I’m done talking about this,” He warned coldly, turning away from you. You didn’t let him get far, keeping a pace or two behind him as he strode toward the study.

“What if I’m not?”

“I don’t give a damn.”

“What do you want, Bruce?”

“I want you to leave!”

He stopped short again, but there was no danger of you slamming into him this time. In fact, you took one step back, then another. You searched Bruce’s face desperately as your entire body felt like it was going to cave in on itself. You shook your head a little, hands flexing at your sides as you forced yourself not to reach out, not to tug him in and hold him close and beg him, plead with him to reconsider.

“You don’t mean that,” You insisted.

“I do.” Bruce’s gaze dropped to your shoes.

“Look at me.”

“I’ll have Alfred pack your things—”

“Look me in the goddamn eye and tell me that.”

“You can stay at the penthouse until Michelle can move you back in.”

“Bruce, don’t do this—”

“You can take as long as you need.”

“You—” You reached up, grasping the lariat necklace and yanking it roughly. You felt the clasp break roughly against your skin, heard diamonds scatter as you tossed it at his feet. “You are a fucking coward.”

You hadn’t let him see you cry, but you were sure he’d heard you. You’d hardly made it into your shared bedroom before you’d knelt down and let out a raw, sharp scream—one so long and so loud that you were hoarse when it finally broke. You had spent the day hiding out in your room, and had only managed to stop crying just long enough to fake a few smiles at Friendsgiving.

When Michelle had announced that she would be moving to Keystone City, you’d burst into tears again. Your other friends had passed it off as you being overcome by the news of your oldest and dearest friend moving, but Michelle knew you, and she knew better. It hadn’t taken her long to drag the truth out of you.

“We just, um…” You sniffle. “We just haven’t been seeing eye to eye on a lot of things lately.”

“Marriage? Kids?”

You shake your head at her plying.

“A lot of things.”

“...Does this have anything to do with the fact that your parents were at Thanksgiving?”

“Let’s just say their visit was less than stellar.”

“Oh, hon, I’m sorry,” Michelle shakes her head, taking your hands in hers. You give them a gentle squeeze in turn, eyes swimming as you look down at them. She’s quiet for a few moments before she plies:

“What are you going to do?”

“...May as well move to Metropolis,” You admit. “Mom and dad are there, you’re leaving, and Bruce…” You clear your throat. “There’s nothing keeping me here.”

“Will they let you transfer at work?”

“Something tells me they’ll have the bright idea first thing Monday morning.”

“No, he wouldn’t.”

“He’s stubborn. Once he gets an idea into his head, he won’t shake it.”

“You can be damn stubborn, too.”

You nod a bit. “I can, but I’m just…” You shake your head as the tears well viciously again. “I’m so damn tired, Mish. I can’t keep fighting for him if he doesn't want me.”

“Honey,” Michelle sighs, crowding close and drawing you into her arms. You curl your hands around her arm, keeping her close as the sobs begin to shake you again.

“How is the weather there?”

“We’re really resorting to speaking about the weather?” You smile. “My my, times are desperate. Did you pull the lilies up yet? Must be getting cold over there.”

“Now who is speaking of the weather?”

You chuckle at Alfred’s reminder, shaking your head. The two of you go quiet on your sides of the phone. You focus your gaze on your mom’s macrame plant hanger, shifting from foot to foot. You know how Alfred is (“Just fine, as always, dear.”), but you don’t dare ask how Bruce is.

“Have you settled in?” Alfred presses before you can bring anything else up.

“Um…” Your brow furrows. “The office is nice—bigger desks.”

“And the apartment? The car?”

“I’m with my parents. I don’t have a car.”

Alfred is quiet for a few moments before he offers: “Master Wayne—”

“I know what he did,” You cut in quickly. You'd gotten the email from the newly Wayne-owned apartment building, as well as the message to pick your new car up from the dealership when you'd arrived in Metropolis. “I don’t want anything from him.”

Alfred sighs softly on the other end, and it makes your gut twist. You lean back against the kitchen counter, looking down at the floor.

“...How is he?” You finally mumble.

“He misses you.”

“Funny way of showing it.”

“Buying you an apartment and a car?”

“I don’t care about things, he knows that. If he cared, he would pick up the—...Damn phone,” You trail off in a mumble as you hear yourself growing more and more frustrated. You tried calling him three times before you left Gotham, but you hadn't gotten a single response. You haven't bothered to try since.

“Anyway,” You clear your throat, “You never answered me about the lilies.”

“I have a few weeds to pull up before I cover the beds.”

“You should do that soon. It’s only going to get colder. Are the lights up in the city yet?”

“They are.”

“Must be nice. I love Gotham at Christmas.”

“How is Metropolis?”

“It’s nice! It’s nice. It’s fine. Pretty. Good lights. Not as good as Gotham’s, but good.”

“Are the accommodations at your parents comfortable, at least?”

Comfortable. That isn't the word you’d use. These days, you’re sleeping on a lumpy pullout couch in a cramped living room, living out of a duffel bag. They’re meant to be spending their days comfortably, not with their heartbroken daughter sleeping in the living room and trying to put the pieces of her life together. You’re grateful to them for opening their home, and you feel so ungrateful for feeling crowded, but a week ago, this was not the life that you pictured—

You raise your hand to pinch the bridge of your nose to stem a wave of tears.

“Mhm!” You nod, though Alfred can’t see you, hoping that the affirmative movement will bolster the firmness of your tone. “S’nice, it’s cozy.”

“I am glad to hear it.”

“Yeah! Yeah, thank you.” You clear your throat. “I should get going for work soon, I’ve got a meeting to prep for.”

“Of course. I'll send the remainder of your things tomorrow."

“Sounds great. I’ll call you soon.”

“It will be lovely to hear from you then.”

“It’s lovely to hear from you now.” You smile bitterly. “Bye, Alfred.”

“Goodbye.”

You lower the phone and hang up, raising your hand to swipe at the few tears that have managed to slip. Work, you have got to get to work. Your parents' place is a quick bus and train ride to and from the office, but you’ve been getting in early to get up to speed—and with the hopes of avoiding the paparazzi.

There aren’t nearly as many as there were when you were in Gotham, but so far, you’ve had a handful lingering around the front door when you leave. They always throw out questions—Why’d you leave Gotham? Did you and Wayne break up? Did he cheat on you? Why aren’t you living in the apartment with your name on it? Are you ever going back to Gotham?

You hadn’t bothered to answer a single question, just kept your head down and strode toward the train station. They had the decency not to follow you on, or back to the apartment. When you arrive this morning, there isn’t anyone with a camera outside the building. You give the receptionist a friendly smile before you head to the elevator, pressing the up button with a knuckle to keep from dropping your phone or spilling your coffee.

The office is quiet when you step inside. You can see a couple of other people there, but they don’t acknowledge you as you settle in. You open your laptop, humming to yourself as the laptop begins to boot up. You heard a few carolers performing Silver Bells on your way to the office, and it is stuck in your head now. You rest your chin on your hand, trying to picture what the grounds’ gardens must look like all covered over. You can picture Alfred crouching down, covering the raised beds with chicken wire, with Bruce pulling it taut from the other end—

You shift in your seat, trying to push the thought of Bruce away.

He’d be bundled up, too, maybe using the spare pair of gloves that you bought for Alfred—

Ugh, stop it! Stop, just banish him from your mind. That’s probably impossible, sure, but you can pretend, right? You click on the internet app, and freeze when you see the loaded article on the homepage: Bruce helping a model out of a car. You recognize her. You're sure that you’ve seen her at a couple of Liz’s parties. You can’t quite remember her name, though…Your eyes stray to the description before you force them away again, pulling up your email and biting the inside of your cheek to keep from letting tears fall. It feels like all you can do these days is cry, no matter what you do. You know that getting over Bruce is going to be slow-going.

Your hand strays to your neck, where the lariat necklace used to sit…No. Nope, letting it go. Taking out your headphones, putting on your favorite angsty playlist and letting it go.

“How was your day, honey?”

You poke through your container of leftovers as you lean against the kitchen counter. You give your mom’s question a placid smile, and don’t bother to say a word. You know that an admonishment isn’t far behind.

“Oh, don’t stand and eat,” She tuts just a moment later when she spots you.

“I’m fine standing, mom. I've been sitting all day.”

“Your day, honey.”

“It was okay. We got the invite for the Christmas party, it’s next week.”

“Everyone was nice?”

“It’s an office job, not my first day of kindergarten.”

“Well,” She sniffs, “Forgive me for asking a question.”

You roll your eyes.

“Everyone's pretty nice, yeah, but...I don't know. We reviewed this application for a toy maker who wanted to set up a workshop for the holidays, but the board wound up turning it down. I thought it seemed like a good cause,”

“Oh really, that’s nice.”

Nice. She isn’t listening—but you push on anyway:

“It’s a bummer, you know, this Schott Jr. guy’s application was kinda…Sad. It was a little childish, though. I think the writing on the grant really messed up his chances.”

“You can tell me about it later, hon. I have my quilting group tonight.”

God, your mother has more of a life than you do these days. “Well, have fun. Where’s dad?”

“Late shift.”

“Out on Neville Island? Jeez, how late are they gonna keep him?”

“Your father is a big boy.”

“I know, just…”

Your mom casts you an almost pitying look. “This isn’t Gotham, sweetie. He’ll be fine.”

You nod a little, peering down into your remaining leftovers.

“Have fun at quilt club,” You add as your mom heads for the door.

“Sure! We’ll keep it down when we come in!”

“Yeah, I know you all get really wild while quilting.”

“Oh, and honey?”

“Mm?”

“Try not to spend the night sulking. Maybe…I don’t know, go to a bar, pick someone up—”

You choke roughly as you accidentally inhale the bite of food. You regain your breath, throat throbbing as you gasp, “Mom!”

“The only way to get over someone is to get under someone! Okay, I’m going, I’m going,” She insists, holding her hands up in mock-surrender as she edges for the door, taking up her quilting tote bag. You scoff, turning and practically flinging the remainder of the leftovers into the trash as you hear her footsteps retreat down the hall.

“Only way to get over someone is to get under someone,” You mumble, “Fucking…Unreal.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, glancing toward the trash can. Maybe you shouldn’t have thrown out those leftovers. You’re still hungry. Maybe you ought to get yourself out of the apartment, grab some food. Or...You reach into your pocket, drawing out your phone. You don’t call Alfred again—instead, you dial Michelle’s number and walk over to the couch, plopping onto it. You wince a little, glancing down at the cushions. You really should be more gentle with it, you are sleeping on it all the time.

You set the sound to speaker as you wait. It rings…And rings…And—

“You better not be calling to tell me that you’re back with that jerk.”

You can’t help but smile at Michelle’s candor.

“I haven’t even heard from…Him.”

“That jerk. Call him a jerk.”

“Mish, please.”

“Well, he is. But I guess I’ve said it enough for both of us.”

“How’s Keystone City?”

“Honey, I have never seen so much corn in all my damn life.”

“Is it doing the men out there any good?”

“It would have to be super corn if it did.”

“How’s the apartment?”

“Oh my god, it's fucking huge. Half the price we were paying in Gotham for double the size. You should move down here. With our joint funds, we’d be able to build our own mansion.”

“Mm, I don’t think I could move down just yet. I’ve only been at the Foundation for three months, and just moved to this location a week ago. If I up and left now, I’d lose my job in minutes.”

“We could find you one down here.”

“Is it very busy down there?”

“No. But maybe you could do with slowing down a bit.”

“Maybe. Hey, have you gotten your tree yet?”

“Have you?”

“The couch folds out right where it would go. Mom’s thinking of getting a small one that she can put on the kitchen counter.”

“She wouldn’t.”

“...I think it’s guilt,” You admit. “She’s why I’m here, anyway.”

“Ugh, you’ve hit the point of blaming your mother. Finally—took you long enough.”

“Well,” You grumble, “She wasn’t thinking, but her not thinking kinda got me on her couch. You know what she told me before going quilting?”

“What?”

“That I should go pick up a stranger.”

“What?” Michelle screeches, and you wince, turning your head away from the phone. “Oh, my god! Are you mortified? I would die, oh my god!”

You giggle, a lightness taking over you for the first time in several days.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, the sexual tension between me and the electrical sockets are slowly creeping up. I’ve gotta find my own place.”

“If you need a reference—”

“I’ll call you—”

“I will lie through my teeth.”

“You’re a dear.”

“...Have you spoken to him?”

No. “No.”

“Have you blocked him?”

No. “Yes.”

“Do you miss him?”

Terribly. “Maybe.”

“...Okay, here me out—”

“Oh, no, Mish—”

“I’m just saying, maybe your mom is on to something. Not like that, but—have you taken a moment for yourself since you got to Metropolis?”

You think for a few moments, shifting back on the couch.

“...No, I’m just working,” You admit softly. “I feel like if I let myself do anything but work, I’ll just…I’ll fall apart.” Your words quiver as you say it.

“I’m not saying don’t think about it,” She reassures. “I mean…It was almost a year with him, you know? Just…Don’t let that be the only thing that you think about.”

You sink back into your seat, lips pursing as your eyes begin to wet.

“I don’t,” You protest weakly. Michelle sighs on the other end, and you know that you haven’t fooled her for a moment. You shake your head, resolved to push the conversation in another direction:

“Are you going to paint any rooms in your apartment?”

“...I got a few paint samples.” You can hear how reluctant Michelle is to move on, but feel a swell of gratefulness when she does. “Mostly blues and greens. I’m thinking of some kind of turquoise for the kitchen.”

“Some kind of turquoise? Isn’t there only one kind of turquoise?”

“You know, I used to think that, but the paint section of the store proved me very, very wrong.”

You tuck yourself in early, knowing that you won’t be asleep by the time your parents get in. Still, you’d rather fake it than have them ask you if you had a nice night in. Worse, your mother could ask if you’d gone out and gotten under someone, as it were. You stare up at the ceiling, trying to focus on taking slow, even breaths.

You can’t help that Bruce creeps up in your mind.

What’s he doing right now? Is he creeping through some alley? Swooping down on a wrongdoer? Conferring with Gordon?

Elspeth Emerson, that’s that model’s name. She’d hardly spoken a word to you the couple of times that you had met her. Come to think of it, you couldn’t remember what her voice sounded like.

Can you even remember what Bruce’s voice sounded like?

“I want you to leave!”

You wince at the thought, and you roll onto your side, as if you can pull away from the memory. Yes, you remember what Bruce’s voice sounds like. How long will it take until you forget? You peer through the curtains, chest muddling with pangs of regret and sadness as your mind begins to race—to wonder if things would be different if you’d just fought a little harder—

But how many times can you give your love to a man that’s trying to push you away? A man who only took a few days to get over you—or at least to go out and make it seem like he’s moving on?

He must have known that you wouldn’t use that apartment, or that car. He must have just wanted to seem like the bigger person, as if he wasn't the one that had sent you packing. You huff softly, raising your hand to swipe your tears away as they begin to leak. It’s no use; a few slip. It’s only a moment before the trickle turns into a stream, dampening the pillow beneath your head.

You fall into a rhythm. It isn’t a rut—it is decidedly not a rut. You manage to get up and out of the apartment before your parents are awake in the morning. The paparazzi stop lingering around the office, because your existence ceases to be news. You stop flinching at the mention of Bruce’s name; you stop hearing his voice as you try to fall asleep. The ache of missing him doesn’t disappear, but it lessens, some. You don’t take your mom’s recommendation of getting over Bruce by getting under someone else. You consider it, sure. You download a couple of dating apps, but you never actually make a profile. There’s just nothing about it that feels right.

You speak with Alfred almost daily—usually on the phone, if not over text. You don’t ask about how Bruce is doing, and he doesn’t tell you.

That doesn’t stop you wondering.

“What the hell is that?”

“Did you see it?”

“It’s so cute!”

“Do you think it’s some kind of office Christmas gift or something? A little teaser before the holiday party later?”

“You hear Wayne’s gonna be in attendance? Someone said they thought the saw him in the elevator. Do you think it’s because of…You know—”

“Who cares—Hey, does that thing move or is it just a decoration?”

Your coworker’s chatter draws your focus, and you turn away from your laptop. You can see people crowding around something by the elevators. You stand, joining them and peering around them to try and get a look at what they’re talking about. You can just catch a glimpse of a brightly colored, 5-foot tall nutcracker. Your brow furrows as you take in the fuzzy beard, the crisp blue paint of the nutcracker’s coat, the bright gold buttons, and the rifle tucked at its side. You nod at the painted script on one of the boots.

“What’s that say?”

“Schott and Son.” One of your coworkers steps forward, stepping around it and eyeing the back. “There’s a button back here!”

Schott and Son. God, why does that sound familiar?

“Press it!” Someone else urges. You hear the gears crank and whir, quickly covered by a music box rendition of the Nutcracker Suite. You smile a little, as the Nutcracker’s arms move as if marching. You all startle, then laugh as it steps forward and does a short bow. It reaches around itself, and your stomach churns as it grasps the butt of its rifle. You take a step back, warning,

“Uh, guys—”

“Lighten up,” Someone scoffs, “It’s just a toy.”

Their insistence is stifled by a gunshot, leaving the tip of the rifle smoking. You hear two panicked huffs before someone screams. You whirl around to see blood pouring from your coworker’s shoulder. Their scream is chased by others as the Nutcracker ventures deeper into the office, firing again. You scramble away as the others do, running for whatever cover you can find. You stumble as someone gives you a shove, practically climbing over you to get out of the way. You crawl along the floor, getting beneath a desk and tugging a chair in. You fold yourself in as tight as you can, clasping your hands together and fighting to keep your breathing and quiet as you peer out, watching people scramble to get out of the way of the Nutcracker.

Fuck, you left your phone on your desk, so you can’t call 911—Surely someone has, right? Someone’s heard the commotion from another floor, or an alarm has gone off, something—

You hear a horrifying thud, chased by a few more gunshots. You wince with the furious bashing sounds, raising your hands to press over your ears. You focus on your own pounding heart, your rapid breathing—

The feeling of the chair shifting beside you makes you scream and open your eyes.

The sight of Bruce crouching beside your desk makes you crumble.

“...It’s nice.”

It’s a feeble attempt at a compliment and a conversation starter. It’s also an insane understatement. It seems that Bruce didn’t only buy you this apartment—he’d had it furnished, and filled the fridge and cabinets with groceries, spices, all of your favorite goodies. You look from the fully stocked bar cart by the kitchen over to the living room, where Bruce is hurriedly closing the curtains over the lowered shades.

Maybe it shouldn’t be such a surprise that the apartment he chose is so big.

Just being the bigger person, You remind yourself, He doesn’t want to be the bad guy.

Bruce finally turns to look at you. You see his lips twitch with something unspoken before he purses them and swallows thickly. He looks so wan—pallid, and tired. He’d looked it when he’d found you beneath that desk, after apparently smashing the shit out of that Nutcracker with a printer. The ride to this apartment (in the car that he had bought for you and had driven to the office) hadn’t made it any better. Neither of you had spoken.

“You never, um…” You clear your throat. “What are you doing in Metropolis?"

“It was requested that I make an appearance at the holiday party.”

Your gaze narrows slightly. You smell bullshit...But you're not really in the mood to litigate it right now.

“Right.”

You turn away, finally, shrugging off your coat and tossing it over the back of a chair as you head for the bar cart.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Mr. Wayne. Great, even.” You take up a clean glass, setting it windowsill beside the car before you reach for the bottle of whiskey. “You want some?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“More for me, then.”

“Are you sure you wanna do that right now?”

“I can’t think of a better time.”

You reach for the seal, struggling to twist it off before you fling it away. You grasp the bottle firmly, trying to ignore your shaking hands as you lift it and the glass. You can’t steady them no matter how hard you try, but you pour anyway, some of the liquid sloshing over the sides and onto your fingers—

You go still as Bruce crowds up close to you, grasping your hands and forcing them down. The glass connects with the windowsill with a sharp, shrill sound; you wouldn’t be surprised if it was chipped, if not cracked. You squeeze your eyes closed as you just feel him—the heat and strength of him up against your back; the gentle press of his face against your hair, and the sound of him drawing in a deep breath; the warmth of his hands, steady over yours. Your lower lip begins to wobble as Bruce intertwines your fingers, using his grasp on your hands to curl your arms around yourself.

“Good thing I wasn’t in Gotham,” You quip dryly, forcing your stern tone over the your rapidly fracturing resolve, “Or today could’ve been a real disaster.”

You shake Bruce off, stepping out of his arms and snatching your glass from the sill, striding more deeply into the living room. You hear Bruce sigh behind you before he hedges:

“What do you want me to say?”

“An apology would be nice.”

“You want me to apologize for wanting you safe?”

“Was I safe today?” You snap, whirling to face him again. “Was that—Killer nutcracker something I was safe from? You can’t anticipate every moment of my life, Bruce. No matter where I go, I could be in danger. What, do you want me confined to a room somewhere and permanently out of harm’s way? What if someone breaks into that room?”

You search his face, desperate for some kind of recognition, some kind of understanding. Bruce shakes his head, his gaze dropping shamefully to his shoes. You lower yourself into an armchair, peering down at the amber liquid, watching it shift with your still-shaking hands. You hear Bruce cross the room before his shoes come into view. He grasps the wooden coffee table, tugging it closer and sitting on the edge of it.

“I just don’t…I don’t like the idea that someone could come after you again, with the purpose of getting to me, or getting something from me,” He admits softly. “I can’t be the reason that I lose someone I love. I can’t do that again.”

You lift your head as Bruce’s voice breaks, heart stuttering as you see his eyes well with tears. You set the drink aside, taking his hands in yours.

“I know that it scares you. It scares me, too. But Bruce, you cannot protect me from everything. But you do—” Your voice breaks as your face twists with upset, “You do protect me, from so much. You protected me after the kidnapping, you protected me today. If you hadn’t been there, I don’t know what would’ve happened…’Sides between this and the attempted robbery at the store, I think I’ve proven that I can get into plenty of trouble all by myself.”

Bruce huffs a shaky laugh through his nose as he nods. He raises your joined hands to his lips, pressing kisses to your knuckles.

“I’ve missed you so goddamn much,” He murmurs.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

“I want…” He winces at the phrasing, and seems to reconsider. “I mean…Would you consider coming home?”

Home. Your chest aches with it—with the thought of the mansion, and Alfred, and the covered garden beds.

“Bruce…I love you so much. I want us to have a life together, but…” You shake your head, steeling yourself as his face falls, “But I can’t keep having this argument. I can’t be pushed away from you over and over again and keep wanting to come back. This nearly broke me—No, Bruce,” You chase his gaze as he averts his, holding his eye as your tone grows more firm. “I understand that you want me in one piece, I get it. But how the fuck do you think I feel, night after night, knowing that every time you leave may be the last time I see you?...If I come back,” You hedge carefully, “This is…It. If we implode, or you change your mind and throw me out again, we’re through, I mean really through—”

“That will never happen again.”

“But—”

“You have my word.” He says it firmly, holding your eye as you held his. “I…I acted like an asshole. I didn’t want you to leave, but I thought it would be better for you.”

“Nothing about this has been better for me.”

“I know, I see that now. I’m sorry.”

You nod a little, looking down at your hands.

“...You just want me back in Gotham so you can keep a closer eye on me.”

Bruce chuckles softly, raising a hand to cup your cheek.

“I want you back in Gotham because nothing has been right since you left.”

You tip your face into his hand, letting your eyes slide closed and allowing your tears to fall as you accept the gentle touch. Bruce shushes you softly, smoothing your tears away and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Tell you what,” He murmurs. “Why don’t you call your parents, let them know you’re alright and you’re spending the night here before we go back. I’ll figure out getting your things back in a couple of days.”

“They’re not gonna like that…And the Foundation’s going to be pissed.”

“S’okay. I think they’ll understand you transferring back after what happened in the office. They've cancelled the holiday party to secure the building, make sure that thing didn't have any extra surprises hiding anywhere.”

“Speaking of which,” You lean back, scrubbing your eyes. “There’s someone you should look into.”

“What do you mean?”

“The uh…The Nutcracker, it had a name on it—”

“Schott and Son.”

“Right. Winslow Schott Jr. put in an application for funding from the Foundation, but it was denied.”

Bruce’s frown deepens. “When did this happen?”

“Uh—Two weeks ago, maybe? He left a few angry calls and emails, but then he dropped off, so we figured he’d given up.”

“Did he have a company he applied through, or was it just him?”

“Umm…” Your brow furrows as you try to remember. “It was…The Toymaker, or…The Toyman, something like that.”

Bruce hums, nodding. “I’ll have Fox pull the file, see what we can find.”

“Okay.”

You stand and step away, and only make it a couple of steps before you hear Bruce stand. He catches hold of your hand, folding you into his arms. You go willingly, pressing your face into his neck and drawing in a deep breath as you cuddle close.

"Bruce?"

"Mm."

"Why are you really in Metropolis? I know you, you hate these parties."

Bruce's thumb sweeps along your lower back as he peers gently at you.

"I needed to see you," He admits softly. "It was just supposed to be for a minute...But I was headed to your floor, and I heard the shots, and..." His face goes tight, his jaw tensing. "I couldn't stop myself."

"I'm glad you didn't," You give him a small, reassuring smile. "But I'm a little biased." You reach up, gently sweeping your fingers across his stubbled cheek.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” You accuse.

“Told you,” He mumbles, “Nothing’s felt right since I lost you.”

You tip your chin, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Then it looks like you found me just in time."

Next Part

#Bruce Wayne x Reader #Bruce Wayne x You #Bruce Wayne/Reader #Bruce Wayne/You #Bruce Wayne fic #Bruce Wayne imagine #The Other Half

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suzukiblu · 1 year ago

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currently having EMOTIONS abt your 'Billy adopts kon and it goes p good actually'. Billy's there just like oh man I'm rambling they're gonna think I'm so lame...meanwhile I as a reader (and presumably also Kon and possibly the other characters present??) are actually going 'oh my god. oh my god he's known Kon for like one singular minute and already arranged a flat according to his best predictions of Kon's needs/wants, gave Kon FIRST PICK OF BEDROOM, and has freely offered to learn how to cook AND how to drive for the sole purpose of taking better care of Kon'. like. oh my god. oh my god. Billy is so precious and I want to give him a hug. I hope Kon isn't too overwhelmed or suspicious due to Billy's enthusiasm tho lmao. (pls could there be..more? more Billy adopts kon, if possible?) anyway I love ur writing. thank you. idk how to ask from a sidelong but this is tryingahandinholdingapen btw :D

I gotchu, friend, lol. @tryingahandinholdingapen But yeah I love a good unreliable narrator, one way or the other it's just so fun peppering in all the bits of "the actual situation that the narrator is oblivious to", hahaha.

Rich people are weird, Billy decides, then sets the swiss rolls and zebra cakes and rest of the strawberry shortcakes on the counter in case Kid Flash is still hungry or Superboy wants any of them and closes the pantry. Batman’s just doing his best, he guesses. Though Billy hopes he knows how to coupon, if he’s always buying brand-name.

Well, he’s Batman. It’d be weirder if he didn’t know how to coupon, Billy figures.

It looks like Superboy ate all of his snack cake while Billy and Kid Flash were in the pantry, at least, which Billy hopes means he liked it. He doesn’t know how much real food Superboy’s had, but Batman’d said he should be fine eating solid stuff and not just whatever he’d been getting in his cloning pod. Though Billy’d still asked if they could get some bottled smoothies and protein shakes and stuff like that to keep in the fridge, just in case. He figured those might be easier for him to eat and digest, if it came up. Or like, maybe appeal to him more, if nothing else?

Billy has no idea, honestly, he’s just doing his best here. The wisdom of Solomon is pretty useful but it’s not really, like, that much of a parenting guide.

He is not going to cut Superboy in half. Like, ever. Like he understands the idea of that story but also it is an insane and incredibly freaky story and he is just not invoking it, ever. Just no way.

“If it’s alright, Captain, we should get going. We’ve got a bit of a drive to get home,” Mrs. West says, then sighs as Kid Flash empties the boxes of swiss rolls and zebra cakes in lightning-fast succession, though he leaves the strawberry shortcakes alone. Billy checks in the fridge and offers him a couple of the more filling smoothies–peanut butter and banana should be more filling, anyway, even with a speedster’s appetite. He steals those from convenience stores sometimes, when he can. He can’t be Captain Marvel all the time.

Well–maybe he could, he guesses. But he does miss being himself, sometimes.

“Thanks, man,” Kid Flash says eagerly, then immediately shotguns both smoothies.

“Wally,” Mr. West says in exasperation as Mrs. West sighs again. “Don’t eat Captain Marvel out of house and home.”

“It’s okay, we’ve got lots of food!” Billy promises cheerfully. “I work with Flash, I know how hungry he gets. I bet it’s way worse when you still have growth spurts to get through.”

“It is so much worse,” Kid Flash mutters vehemently, eyeing the empty smoothie bottles in his hands accusingly. Billy gets him another peanut butter banana one on principle. He really doesn’t want Kid Flash to be that hungry. It’s . . . not a good feeling.

“We appreciate it, Captain, really, but we’ve got snacks and a cooler in the car,” Mrs. West says.

“Oh, good,” Billy says, relieved. Mr. and Mrs. West both give him strange, inscrutable looks, then glance back to Superboy. Billy wonders if he likes peanut butter banana smoothies. Though if he liked the snack cakes, there’s strawberry banana ones too, so that might be better? And strawberry kiwi, but that’s probably less filling. “Superboy, do you want a smoothie too?”

“No,” Superboy says. Billy pauses again, then gets him a strawberry banana one and tosses it over. Superboy catches it, eyes it, and then opens it and takes a sip.

Okay, Billy thinks he’s getting the hang of this. But also they should probably talk about how “no” needs to actually mean “no”. Like, for Superboy he’s sure it’s just like that phase when toddlers want to say “no” to everything no matter what, but it’s still important for him to understand. Billy doesn’t want to accidentally upset him or overstep because Superboy doesn’t know how to really say “no” to something.

Yeah, they definitely need to talk about that, he decides.

#tryingahandinholdingapen #wip: billy adopts conner and it actually goes pretty good!#long post

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justficsiguess · 11 months ago

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I guess I'm just gonna post all of my daydream scenarios lol. Another batfam one!

tw: feelings of inadequacy, memory loss

So. You wake up, no idea where you are or what's going on. No memories of who you are or your life before this.

The people who call themselves your family try everything to get you to remember, show you around the mansion where you apparently live, showing you different trophies that are everywhere in your (admittedly, very beautiful) room, explaining to you how and when you won them, pointing at pictures hoping you'll remember where they were taken... But, nothing.

They even tell you about the vigilante stuff! They try throwing stuff at you and seeing if your reflexes still work subconsciously (you get hit in the face with a lot of pillows, Damian has to be stopped from throwing knives multiple times). Don't you remember when you solved the Riddlers puzzles with Batman? When you and Nightwing took down Poison Ivy? ...Nothing sounds familiar? You lost your memories after being hit by a weird ray gun from a new villain, they haven't been able to figure out exactly how it works yet...

When none of that works they try stuff that they think might upset you, but it's the only thing left. How you lost your family before being taken in by Bruce and joining your new family, becoming a vigilante to stop other kids from losing their parents in the same way as you. Unsurprisingly, that doesn't ring any bells whatsoever. They show you pictures of your old family, and... you think you remember them? But not dead, not gone, you get flashes of going grocery shopping with them, looking older than they were when they died, apparently? How can that be...? After that, most of your memories return pretty quickly. You don't belong here.

You all figure out together that apparently you didn't just lose your memory, you switched places with the version of you that actually belongs to this universe! It's nice knowing what happened and that they might be able to figure out a way to switch back with their version of you, to get you home, but it also hurts.

Looking more closely at the other-you's life, it's pretty close to everything you've ever dreamed of... Having hobbies you've always wanted to have but never had the time and/or money for (they can play so many instruments, they dance, etc), a close friend group, maybe even a relationship, even their room is decorated exactly how you'd decorate it if you had the space and money! And all of their achievements... Graduated top of the class, got a scholarship to college, trophies for all sorts of sports. Basically everything you could think of, they excelled in.

You start sleeping in one of the guestrooms.

It's awkward, answering the other-you's family's questions about your life. What are your hobbies? Oh, um, nothing much, mostly I just go to work I guess... What's your job? Do you like it? Uhm, well, it's nothing important or groundbreaking or anything, but I guess there's worse ones! I mean, especially considering that I dropped out of university... Ok, well, what about your friends? Family? Friends? Um, I mean I get along with some of my coworkers, but I wouldn't really call them friends... And my family is just a normal family, I guess?

Needless to say, they want their helpful, smart, wonderful family member back. And you get it, they don't know you, you're a stranger to them! But, after they're able to contact the other-you (unable to bring them back yet, but their memories came back as well and they started working on something similar to the Batfam, which makes it so they can at least talk to each other for now), you find out that they're doing better in your life than you ever did. They got a better job or re-enrolled in university, show way more motivation and discipline than you ever did for anything in your life... The worst part is, they couldn't tell your parents that they're not you, they'd never believe them! So your parents are of the opinion that the mysterious accident is the best thing that ever happened to you! Sure, it was rough at first, but look at you now! Finally making something out of yourself, they couldn't be prouder!

So you're just stuck knowing that both families prefer the other-you, the better-you, smart-you, vigilante-you... Sure, maybe your parents would want you back if they knew it wasn't actually you who was achieving all of these things, but still, now you know they really were disappointed in you, that you weren't living up to their expectations...

[The other-you is having a rough time as well, though. Imagine suddenly remembering that the people you've been living with after your accident/memory-loss are dead where you're from, and you can't even tell them that! You missed them so much, but it's been so long they're strangers to you now... You try to get your mind off of it, work hard, etc, but everyone acts like that's so unlike you and doesn't seem like something you would have done before? You don't know them, they don't know you, you missed them so much, you'll have to lose them all over again. The other version of you seems mad at you for changing your life even though you think it's better now than what they had before.]

#idk if this makes sense at all. turns out I'm terrible at proofreading/editing lol #batfam x reader #batfam & reader #x reader #reader insert #dc reader insert #batfamily x reader #batfamily & reader #dc x reader #yandere batfam #<- not really mentioned in the post but in my head they always are

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planetoflovers · 7 months ago

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As a Jason liker why am I in the anti Jason Todd tag but you’re so real for the “citizens see red hood as more effective than Batman” hate. Loathing. 13 year old kids seeing the guy that killed their uncle Anthony but it’s okay cause dealers won’t sell to their 16 year old sister who’s either now doing even shadier shit to get drugs or being forced through withdrawal. Okay. If you want to fanon jason stays in crime alley area and Jason really puts the fear of god into criminals by killing them -> generation of kids growing up with red hood related ptsd from their extended family and neighbors being killed by this dude. Like. Why are so many people in this fandom obsessed with theory posting about things they don’t know anything about.

It just does not make any sense to me. There are so many examples of goons with families in Batman comics. I’m currently reading Batgirl 2000 and this is a recurring archetype amongst the criminals she fights. I just really dislike Jason stans’ hypocrisy surrounding some of the characters moral codes. Like they say Bruce is childish and weak for upholding his no kill rule and then say that Jason’s methods of killing with no due process or remorse is what Gotham really needs. It’s absurd.

Murdered are a dime a dozen in Gotham. For every drug dealer Jason kills there’s probably another guy out there glad that his competition is gone. Bruce’s whole thing is that he never wants another child to go through what he went through when his parents died, regardless of how morally upright those parents happen to be. Him going around killing criminals goes against that cause whether you want to admit it or not every criminal has someone that loves them.

It should be obvious to everyone by now that Gotham’s main issue is corruption. The reason crime runs rampant is because most of the policy makers and law officials are in the pocket of crime lords like the penguin and black mask thus preventing justice from taking place.

I’ve probably said this before but a lot of gothamites don’t even like Batman and his associates and he works within the limits of the law. With Batman you at least know that you’ll live to see tomorrow but with the red hood that guarantee is not there. Batman inspired hope in people that they can change and choose to do better. Some newer comics seem to have forgotten the heart of Batman but moments like this one from Batman: kings of fear show that Bruce is making a change

And anyways Jason’s whole thing seems more like a child rebelling and lashing out at his father than any real attempt at crime prevention 🤷🏾‍♀️

#sorry this is so long but it something that really irks me #I honestly don’t even hate Jason I just dislike his direction #anti jason todd #bruce wayne #dc comics #batman meta #I really recommend Batman kings of fear #it’s up there with murderer/fugitive as a great comic that really discusses the who is Batman/Bruce Wayne dilemma #jason todd

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zeestarfishalien · 1 year ago

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Oops, John Constantine Found Family

[Day 1 dpxdc week 2023; John Constantine // Found Family // Oops]

• John Constantine/Box Ghost/Lunch Lady

John curses the Infinite King the first time he’s asked out to dinner.

It’s ridiculous, the parents of the little ghost child are loud and obnoxious and…definitely not endearing in the slightest. He’s sure he’ll be sick of the word “beware” before the end of the night.

But it is and he’s not.

He agrees to another dinner, more to prove to himself that this would never come anywhere close to working. He doesn’t get nice things and these two are just so…ridiculous and it’s so different from how his entire life has been, one nitty-gritty moment after the next; dooming his soul for power and favors.

But they aren’t turned off by his life or his rude demeanor. They like him and they show it. Against all odds, they just work.

And to think it all started with the end of the world…

~•~

John hates when he’s the last call, the hail mary pass, for the end of the world. Most of the better options for solving problems take time to put together, which is something few on the Justice League seem to understand and even fewer (read: None) seem to remember when a big threat comes about.

Since it’s potentially the end of the world, what’s one more time selling his soul going to hurt?

Possibly a lot this time. The King of Restless Dead holds sway over those that fall in the in between. They are historically stronger than most demons and spirits and on par with most deities. And since it is a title one by conquest most of the time the one to take over the throne is more powerful than the previous holders.

Now John really isn’t all that keen on joining the King’s legions but like he’s mentioned previously, end of the world and all that.

It’s a fitting enough end for him, he thinks and he hopes that his planned contract doesn’t have any loopholes for the King to take advantage of. Loosing the King of Restless Dead, King of the Infinite, King of the space between worlds, upon Earth for them to wreck havoc would probably cause Batman to revive John just so he can kill him again.

So it’s with a heavy heart and skyrocketing blood pressure that John starts chanting the words to bring the King of Ghosts to Earth, this Earth here and now. He’s got to be specific. Every single word matters…

…

John doesn’t know what he was expecting. A terror of the night? A horrific figure or possibly some sort of Eldritch entity that nearly melts his brain with its very presence?

Not a teenager that’s for fucking certain.

He’s not…he’s not certain what exactly he’s seeing as a funky little girl with blue skin and pigtails hikes herself up to peek over the teen’s shoulder.

He opens his mouth, probably to spit out some snarky comment or another but something in the teen’s eyes stops him. Then the overwhelming power hits him with the full force of a speeding freight train.

His lungs are too tight, too full. He can’t breathe, he can’t even twitch a bloody muscle under those glowing toxic waste eyes. The teen tilts his head, assessing John, weighing his tattered and bloody soul.

“What do you want, Laughing Magician?”

And that’s a fucking title. The King has his fucking title in hand with just a glance at him. The teen is all seriousness despite the little girl floating up to rest her upper body on his head like being The King just means he’s a glorified babysitter. She’s unaffected by the roiling waves of power washing off of him and crashing into John repeatedly.

He swallows and chokes on it because his throat is suddenly too dry. He coughs a few times before sinking into a bow.

“Oh King of Restless Dead and all those trapped in between death and life, I came seeking your aid to save this world and its inhabitants.” He doesn’t dare look up no matter how crawly his skin feels or how the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“Ohhhh. Oh yeah, I was keeping an eye on that but then Boxy asked me to babysit the tyke here. It’s that bad already?”

John has to fight every cell in his body not to look up at the King and give him a taste of the incredulous look on his face.

“We’ve lost several heroes already and countless civilians. Superman is stuck in recovery after an attack, he can’t be out there. Wonder Woman has a broken leg and Batman is no-“

“Okay, okay I get it.” He interrupts, “It’s bad. I’m on it. I just need one thing in return.”

“My soul?”

“Ewww no.” John finally does look up at that just to catch the genuine disguston the teen’s face. “I need you to watch little Boxy junior here while I take care of this. She’s too young for the battlefield.”

“But I’m not qualified to take ca-“

“Thanks!” The King plops the little ghost girl on John and she grabs onto him while he’s too shocked to respond. It’s a good thing she’s a ghost and can fly since it takes him entirely too long to wrap his arms securely around her.

She’s studying him furiously and seems to find him suitable since she eventually grins and introduces herself.

“I’m Box Lunch. Who are you?”

“John,” he answers and that’s all he planned to give her but she stared him down with her beady little red eyes, waiting. “John Constantine and as His Majesty said, I’m also sometimes called the Laughing Magician.”

“Ohhh, so you have lots of names like Danny does.”

“Danny?”

She sends him a flat look.

“You’re kinda slow aren’t you.” When he doesn’t respond she lets out a big sigh, something she definitely doesn’t actually need. “You call him King and use one of his titles but you don’t know who he is?”

Now that’s an answer. And an alarming one at that. Just how high in the ghostly courts are her parents that she can casually call the King by name?

“I uh…” he fumbles a moment for words. “News and info about your world doesn’t cross the veil to here very well.”

“Oh…” She says it like she didn’t realize that. “Oh yeah, that’s Danny’s world. I’ve never actually been to a living realm that wasn’t Danny’s.”

“Not even when you were alive? Or were you from His Majesty’s world?”

She levels that unimpressed look at him again before sighing the worlds biggest sigh. Highly entertaining coming from someone so young and so small.

“Come sit with me.” She floats to the floor and snags his hand to drag him down too. “I will teach you Silly Magician.”

He follows, not sure how to tell her no thanks without upsetting her, so he goes along with it.

~•~

By the time that The King in all his teenager glory popped back in, John and Box Lunch were snuggled into a nearby couch with John reading to her from a spell book (it’s the only thing he had on hand and he made sure to only read the kid safe parts to her).

And the rest is, as they say, history.

More accurately the continuation of John’s very very strange life but details, details.

#cursed casket offerings ship #magic lunch box ship #dpxdc #dcxdp #dpxdc week 2023 #rarepair #polyamory #polycule

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