#Neither did Batman in all honesty.

[radiance1]

There was a rumor going around with the people who go out at sea. One where a voice could be heard the farther you went out, there was no fixed placed it came from, no has anyone ever seen the owner of said voice, but everyone who has heard of it claimed it to be the most beautiful, enchanting voice they've ever heard and they felt as if within a trance.

Like a Siren's song.

No one really saw a problem with it, the voice was nice to hear out at sea and unlike the Siren's heard in stories the voice never tried to lead anyone astray or entrap them so far that they willingly fall into the ocean.

At least Diana and Batman went undercover for a high profile event. Diana was sure she didn't hear correctly when she heard there might be the chance of being far enough to hear the 'siren's voice', it couldn't be a siren, for they were turned into trees thousands of years ago.

The host of the party didn't lie, however. Far enough into the ocean and she heard the voice of what was unmistakably a siren. Did one of them somehow manage to escape the punishment of Aphrodite? Or did someone reverse their transformation into a tree.

She had to know, she may not be killing innocents know, but with the track record of the Siren's she knew, it would only be a matter of time before she killed someone.

After the mission was over she called for a meeting with the Justice League. Asking her to help locate the lone Siren out in the sea, Siren's were dangerous beings, captivating wayward sailors with their voices to bend their will and inevitably kill them.

With Batman's help she managed to pinpoint where exactly the Siren seemed to frequent the most, then sent out to find her. She wasn't exactly surprised that Batman followed her, she sort of expected it, even.

She knew Siren's were dangerous women, their voices their most powerful weapon to captivate the weak willed. She could see that this Siren at least had some good in her, based on how no sailors disappeared or threw themselves into the ocean, and hoped she would allow herself to be reformed.

So what was she supposed to do, when she flew to the lone rock sitting in the sea with Batman in his plane behind her, and the dangerous Siren she expected was not only a child, but male as well. A boy who couldn't even be past his teens, yet covered in scars from where she could see.

The most dastardly scar of all being what was undoubtedly one of dissection running down his torso.

[torasplanet]

being bruce wayne's controversially young gf is probably such a handful. with all the paparazzi, and new reporters and don't even get me started on that whole batman thing...you'll never forget the time you discovered the batcave in the middle of the night and neither will bruce. you were just sitting at the computers next to Barbara in your silky rope with a frown on your face just ready to yell at him for not telling you.

but that's not what we're here to talk about. we're here to talk about that little munchkin damian.

see at first, he didn't really like you. you were there before him but he still didn't like you very much in all honesty. the other batkids took a liking to you, some quicker than others (dickie) but they still liked you and told damian that you were cool and everything but damian found it disgusting how his father would date someone as young as you.

you were only in your twenties but considering bruce's age being early forties... he thought it was weird. damian was one of many who thought it was horrible until he didn't. you don't exactly know what made him switch but you weren't complaining well...sometimes you were because of his clinginess but you loved him too! damian was attached at your side the moment he started to like you and it was hard to get him away.

you always defended damian especially when he would go back and forth with bruce, which by the way he hated, but it didn't matter the topic because you'd still back him up. "father, school is a waste of time. training is far more important." "yeah! dami is too smart for that."

but don't get him wrong, he still found the age gap horrifying but it was more toward bruce than you now. as time went on, he stopped caring about it but he acted as though he did. damian is just a hater tbh.

anyways, back to him being the clingiest son ever! during galas, you are never seen without the middle schooler at your side either silent or talking to you about something he is passionate about. bruce thinks its cute and plus it makes the public not hate this relationship more but when damian actually needs to do things at the galas, it's pretty annoying for him...

"todd insisted that i play uno with him and the rest of the former robins and it was quite interesting. especially when todd jumped at grayson for cheating." damian ranted in your ear while standing at your side as you sipped at your wine glass carefully listening to him unaware of your boyfriend approaching.

damian noticed before you did and his silence made you confused "damian, you cannot stand next to her all night." bruce said with a sigh and his son only narrowed his eyes at him "why not? i don't find talking to these other wealthy families any sort of intriguing." damian argued while you only smiled brightly at the fact that he found you interesting!

"that doesn't matter, you still have duties."

"well ummi–[y/n]..." damian stuttered clearing his throat in embarrassment as the conversation seemed to go silent. bruce looked at you and you were close to dropping the wine glass because of how happy you seemed so he swiped it from your palm quickly. "...she doesn't seem to mind at all." the boy continued before looking up at you.

you barely registered him looking at you. you were just too happy about him referring to you as his mom!! even if it was just a slip-up. "oh yeah! i don't mind at all and you can call me whatever you want dami! i don't mind that either." you shrugged while rocking back and forth on your heels and damian seemed to be relieved with that but he quickly cleared his throat again and looked at his father with a careless expression.

"well, we'll be going now. grayson is better company than you anyway." damian said grabbing the glass from bruce's hand and grabbing yours with his other before beginning to walk away. you looked back at bruce and silently screamed to show your excitement. i guess he can let it slide this one time...because he was just as happy.

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

[theloneotaku158]

As of Batman: The Brave and the Bold #12, local precious-gremlin-who-I-would-die-for, Maps Mizoguchi, is now officially(?) the sixth Robin. Or at the very least, she's now "in" on The Secret™.

If this isn’t a set up for her taking up the Robin mantle officially then I genuinely don’t know what is.

As one of the twelve Gotham Academy enjoyers in existence, I am having the extremely normal reaction of "FUCKING FINALLY! LET'S FUCKING GOOOOO--!"

In all honesty, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't seen this coming from miles away. Like, Maps has appeared in a number of seemingly random cameo roles recently, including Batgirls (2021), and even technically as Robin in the backup issues of Batman (2016) #119-121, and in a short story in Batman Black & White. And most of those got collected in a standalone titled "Maps of Mystery", which specifically gathered all her appearances as Robin (and the Gotham Academy Belle Reve story).

And then, of course, her recent time-travelling Future-Trunks-esque appearance in Birds of Prey (2023), as the tech-based Meridian, from a potential future timeline where she apparently makes it as a superhero using gadgets she apparently designed, proving that she's hero material.

That's not something you do for a character for no reason. That's the sort of thing you do when you want to keep a character in the conscience of your readers for whatever reason, because you have bigger plans for them.

Also interesting to consider that, in the "Mother's Day" story where this took place, Alfred is standing right there and not lying down six feet under wood, dirt and a stone slab, and that Bruce is in the old Batcave under the manor so he still has Money™. So we must assume this was some nebulous time in the past (after GA: Second Semester(?), but before City of Bane)... which I won't bother to analyse the exact timeframe of because DC doesn't care about the post-Flashpoint / New 52 / Rebirth / Prime Earth / idfk / Dawn of DC timeline, so neither should I.

But I think it's really funny that this presumably means Maps has known The Secret™ for a long time relative to present-day comics, but always acted like she didn't.

But if all her appearances are in chronological order, that means Bruce is only the fourth Bat whose identity she discovered.

Like, she discovered Cass' identity almost by accident on a trip to the zoo, Damian showed off his grapple gun and gave her an actual Batarang during the three hours he was enrolled in the school (as if she wouldn't immediately put two-and-two together even back then), and she even found out Terry fucking McGuinness would become Batman in a future via a time-travelling grandfather clock.

No I did not make that last part up. Read Gotham Academy istg.

Did Cass know that Maps had been acting as a Robin when she met her, both at the zoo in Batgirls and her future version in Birds of Prey?

Does Damian know the one (1) friend(?) he made in Gotham Academy is potentially in the running for his job?

Is Bruce himself aware that she knows as much about their identities as she currently does?

How is DC going to retcon this so it all makes sense in the barely-functioning canon of the modern DC universe?

I'm digressing. Where was I going with this?

Point is, she's destined to become a Robin, and I'm glad DC finally pulled their fingers out their asses and capitalised on that destiny.

Let's just hope it doesn't take another year for them to follow up on this plotline again.

Bonus: Jason Todd, after learning of Bruce taking yet another happy kid under his wing as yet another Robin, giving her some advice:

[deliciousbasementtrash]

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

Artist: Dexter Soy

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman has offered you a job. You are now a nurse for the entire Batfamily. You have been asked by Bruce if you are working with the very people he fights against.

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x Female!reader

Warning: Adult language, mentions injuries, sexual language

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it

Part 11: Honesty

“How many villains have you helped in the past? And are you helping them now?”

Everything for me stopped at that moment. Having Bruce’s eyes on me, a certain type of panic filled my chest. I had to mentally remind myself that he was not my father and he was not going to hurt me. That didn’t stop my pulse from racing. It didn’t stop my mouth becoming dry. It didn’t stop the fear that ripped into me so brutally that my hands shook. I picked at the skin around my nails, the stinging pain made me focus. 

I could play dumb, but there was no way Bruce fucking Wayne wouldn’t see right through that. I could deny the accusations and demand to know why he would think that. I could quit and save myself the trouble. 

Or I could do the scariest thing of all… tell the truth. 

Gotham City: 14 Years Ago

I looked across the table at a man who didn’t feel human. He felt closer to a demon, a devil, a monster. He felt truly vile. His eyes were dark, empty, and joyless. He had a smile carved into his face, but I knew it would never meet his eyes. It took everything in me to remain neutral and heal him. 

He had several cuts along his arms, but they were in various positions, various angles, and various lengths. They were random. 

The creature must have noticed me staring, “Little girl, ask me how I got these cuts!” His voice was shrill, and he cackled when he noticed I flinched. When I didn’t say anything he laughed harder. His hand snaked out faster than I could pull away. He gripped the nape of my neck and pressed his forehead to mine. His skin felt loose and cold. It felt undeniably wrong. His dead eyes stared into mine. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, or blink, or move, or scream. I couldn’t do anything. I was at his mercy, and I knew he had so little of it. 

“I said ask me!” He screamed at me and pressed his forehead harder into mine. 

“H-How d-did you g-get those c-cuts, sir?” I asked, unable to keep my voice from trembling. 

The creature released me. I had to fight the urge to turn around and run away. How could my father leave me alone with this man? He had to know I wasn’t safe. I knew he didn’t care about me, but I thought he would want to at least keep his golden goose alive. 

“The Bat gave me these cuts! He and I, we have a repertoire you see. We enjoy playing cat and mouse. And you see little girl, we like to play rough. It was my turn to be a mouse! Gotta keep the relationship fresh! Would you like to be the mouse or the cat?” 

The question felt like a trap. If I answered mouse he would treat me like prey. If I answered cat he would demand I perform violence to prove myself as a predator. The longer I took thinking about it, the more impatient and angry he got. 

“Neither,” I answered honestly. I willed my tired body to heal him faster. 

“Ah ah,” he tsked, reprimanding me, “that is not part of the game. Pick one.”

I have played mouse my whole life. I was sick of being weak. I was sick of being used. 

“I’d want to be a fucking dragon. Not a cat. Not a mouse. I want to breathe fire so I can tell men like you to fuck off and leave me alone. I want men like you to be scared of me,” the words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them. 

The Joker tilted his head like he was seeing me for the first time. He smiled at me and began laughing so hard he wheezed. 

“You have a lot of work to do then, little mouse.”

With that, the clown got up and left. The second he was out of the room it felt like I could breathe again. I swallowed hard. 

Tonight was the night. I couldn’t do it anymore. Despite everything the Joker was the one to finally spur me into action.

I ran to my room and lifted up my loose floorboard. I grabbed the cash I had stolen from the safe. I grabbed my go bag. And I ran. 

Gotham City: Present Day

I told Bruce everything. I told him every minute detail. I told him about my mom, my dad, and everything that happened in my life. 

“So, to answer your questions: I don’t know how many there have been, but it has been a lot. And no, I vowed the day that I ran away that I wouldn’t heal another villain again. And that I would never be– I will never be a pawn for someone else.” I would never be a mouse again.

Bruce stood quickly and moved around his desk. He stood before me large and brooding, and then he knelt. 

“I am so sorry, Y/N. You don’t deserve what has happened to you,” his dark voice became surprisingly soft. “And I am sorry for doubting you.”

I felt my eyes start to burn, and I roughly blinked to rid myself of the potential tears. 

“Does this mean I still have a job here?” I laughed weakly. 

“Yes. I value honesty and loyalty above all else.”

I nodded and rose on shaky legs. I left the room without another word. 

I took the elevator down to the Batcave. My nerves felt frayed and split open after reliving my past with Bruce. I needed a distraction. I needed to hit something. 

The elevator doors split open and revealed that I was not the only one who wanted to get a workout in. Dick and Jason stood in the middle of the training mat. Both were shirtless and sweating as they swung fists at each other. For a moment, all I could do was watch like a wide-eyed pervert. 

Jason’s body was riddled with a myriad of scars. I saw evidence of burns, lacerations, gunshots, and of course… the autopsy scar. Dick also had his fair share of scars but it was about ¼ the amount that Jason had. 

Dick had the body of a gymnast. His muscles were lean and lithe. He was built for fluidity and speed just as much as strength. 

Jason was built like a fucking brick house. His shoulders were impossibly broad, and every inch he was covered in thick roped muscle. His physique looked like he had been carved from marble. He was unforgivingly hard and defined. I couldn’t help myself as I stared longer. Despite his size, he kept up with Grayson. For every punch or kick Dick threw at him Jason ducked or blocked accordingly. When he moved to hit back he put his whole body behind the punch. I could see it in the way his thick thighs and hips rotated.  

Jason landed a particularly hard hit on Dick’s shoulder. Dick winced and held up a hand. 

“First: owe that hurt, jackass. Second: I want a break,” Dick said in a sassy tone that made me snort. 

Instantly, both of the men swiveled their heads toward me. I tried pretending like I wasn’t watching them, but something in the gleam of their eyes told me they knew it… and maybe liked it.

Jason smiled at me so brightly that it made my heart clench. 

“Hey, you. Where did you go?” He asked. 

I approached both the boys, “I had to have a meeting with my boss.”

Dick winced, Jason straightened up. “What did the old bastard want?” Jason asked. 

“Information, as per usual,” I replied. It was hard to focus. Jason was dripping in sweat. A bead had run from his forehead, down his face, and ran over his Adam’s apple. I had to force my eyes back up, so I wouldn’t watch it trail lower. 

Jason smirked at me and took a step forward, “Are you ogling me, Y/L/N?”

I could feel my cheeks heat, “Not at all, Todd. I’m just taking in the physical condition of one of my clients.”

Jason laughed, and leaned forward, “Such a good little nurse, aren’t we?”

I rolled my eyes, “Don’t worry I assessed Grayson just as thoroughly.”

Jason’s eyes darkened slightly, “Oh, I doubt that–”

“Okay well, I feel like an awkward third wheel. I’ll leave you guys to it,” Dick said, as he practically ran into the elevator. Before I could rebut his claim the doors were already shut. 

I returned my focus back to Jason and I saw his eyes trail the burn on my cheek and the bruises on my throat. His demeanor completely changed. He became ramrod straight. Every muscle in his body was tense. Even a muscle in his jaw tightened. 

He ran a finger parallel to the burn, “How are you feeling?”

Like I got my ass kicked, “Fine.”

“Be honest,” he practically growled out. 

“Sore,” that was an understatement but I didn’t feel like voicing my pain. Every time I did that with my father he would just tell me to suck it up and stop being a complainer. 

“You’re more than sore. I know you are.”

I shrugged and that seemed to anger him more. I ignored it and redirected the topic. 

“Spar with me?” It was more of a demand than a question.

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If I missed anyone please let me know <3

Author's note: You guys are so slay, ily all <3 Thank you all so much for your kind words, comments, messages, and interactions!! They inspire me to keep writing. I hope you guys continue to enjoy the story, thank you again <3

Hashbrown Cam!

[limetameta]

Was anyone going to tell me about alternate dimension lobotimized Joker, or was I just supposed to find that well of opportunity out by watching the episode A better world in Justice League?? Like my dudes, this is amazing batjokes real estate here. *slams Joker like the hood of the batmobile* The potential alone. The angst. Superman lobotomizing Joker to put a stop to him finally as he has done to numerous others. Batman thought that he was ready for this. That it had to be done. The voice in his head says that this should be everything he's ever dreamt of. The Joker stopped. He's not dead, either.

Surely. Surely this is what he's always hoped for.

But it isn't.

And it's far too late to return to how things were. All of the rogues gallery are lobotomized. They're calmer, and they don't cause any trouble. One can even say that Arkham is a home to them now. It's certainly nicer without all of the screaming and the mad cackling.

At first, he comes to visit him. The few doctors there treat this as his curiosity, but Batman is sceptical that the treatment worked. Surely, the Joker’s mind is unlike any other. A part of him he doesn't dare call hope wants the Joker to be faking his mellowed behaviour, his eerie calmness. He doesn't laugh, but he does smile when he sees Batman. And there's such a tragic layer behind the looks he gives him. No. It's tragic because the Joker has been stripped of the ability to hide. What Batman sees when the Joker looks at him now is the most raw display of love the clown has ever donned. When you strip away the guns and the knives and the acid and the gas, the purple suits and the maddening laughter - this is what's left: his deepest, sincerest form of love out for Batman to see. To judge. And he can't even hide behind a joke.

Even lobotimized, even after Superman destroyed the Joker - he couldn't destroy this.

Batman sees the Joker move gently, shyly to cup his hand in his. Over the glove. Batman’s breath hitches. He braces for impact, for when the Joker will take a knife out from his sleeve or a razor edged Joker card to slice at him with.

But it doesn't come. How could it? Those two lobotomy marks on his forehead, from where Superman's laser vision did its work, they glare.

"Batman," his smile doesn't reach his eyes, it doesn't even stretch wide enough for teeth to show. But what teeth are left to show? Have they not defanged the Joker?

Quiet and obedient are two things that don't suit the Joker. And Batman feels bile rising in his mouth. He feels anger at himself for letting this happen. But if Superman could kill Lex Luthor, surely this compromise is something Batman can accept.

"Joker, how do you feel?"

He blinks. Trying to think. "Half a brain lighter," he says and shrugs.

Batman dares to hope. But the laughter doesn't come. The Joker doesn't even wink. He yawns, exhausted, or too medicated. They're pumping him with more drugs than is necessary still. Precautions.

Batman grasps hold of the Joker by his wrist. Tighter than he intends. No flash of panic or excitement or even anger flashes across the Joker’s face. Nothing that can let Batman know there's anyone under that hollow mask, that face.

He's killed the man under the acid bleached skin and left something neither here nor there. Is this what might happen to him if the man under the cowl is to die?

"What do you like to do?" Batman asks him, controlling the way his voice sounds. Everyone is listening. Everyone is watching.

"I don't know. No jokes, though. They say I can't tell jokes anymore. But, um, well," he looks sheepish in this light, and normally Batman would say it's a ploy. But now he knows it isn't. So the honesty in the Joker’s expressions is worse than anything he's ever seen. "I don't really remember if I ever liked to do that. Did I ever make you laugh?" It's with childlike wonder that he looks at him now, inching closer than is allowed, but Batman can't find it in himself to push him away or to raise his voice at him. To remove him from himself and send him off to therapy or to his cell. His room. Wherever.

He won't be able to look at Superman again without seeing this.

"Yes." The admission comes at a cost.

The Joker’s eyes crinkle with happiness. "That's good." He grasps hold of his gloves hand and squeezes it. Not to hurt him. Just to feel him. Batman will never be able to return to Arkham. He will never be able to see this man again.

But it's too late anyway. The man he wants to see was ripped through those two marks on his forehead.

"Thank you." The Joker says. He's clasping both hands over his and smiling up at him. This is not the Joker you know, this will never be the Joker you knew. Nor will it ever be the one you wanted to know, the one who willingly went through rehabilitation.

But. But. The voice in your head goes on, louder, quicker: this needed to be done. How many people would need to die at his hand for you to realise this? Be happy Superman took this difficult task from your hands. You didn't kill. You still haven't killed.

The Joker mumbles something.

"What?" Batman barks, his voice flooded with wretched pain he hopes comes across as anger.

It doesn't. Even lobotomized, the Joker can tell: "Hush now," he comforts, patting his hands and humming, "you don't have to explain anything to me. You don't owe me anything, o Justice Lord."

The bile in Batman’s mouth is worse than any acid the Joker might have thrown at him. There is not a hint of irony in the Joker’s voice.

He rips his hands away from the Joker and stands. He isn't shaking only because he is a master of control, and he knows everyone is watching. Everyone is always watching.

It's heartbreak, pure and simple. "You aren't coming back, are you?"

"What's there to come back to?" Batman asks, hollow in his heart, looking at a hollow man. A shell of someone he doesn't want to think about. Because if he does think about him, he'll wonder if this really needed to be done. And he can't have such thoughts. Not when everyone is watching.

The Joker nods his head. He doesn't have the capacity for anything else. "That's all right."

Where is the fanfare? The fireworks? The theatrics?

Batman cannot recognise the man in front of him. So he turns around, cape billowing behind him. He cannot look back. But unlike what was promised to Orpheus, even though Batman doesn't turn around, the Joker never returns by his side.

Diana stands next to him. She puts a hand to his shoulder to ask him something, but he slams it away and growls: "I don't need anything from you."

Her eyes harden to steel and he knows that he said too much.

So he amends it: "I need some time. To recuperate. This is... a lot to take in."

Her voice is gentle when she speaks to him: "Of course. I am here for you."

"Yes." Batman says. Anything longer and he might let something else slip in his voice that he can't allow.

It is easy to disappear in the Batcave. It is easy because the other Justice Lords are all very much happy to be in the spotlight.

Batman obsesses over the man in Arkham. He never comes back. But he knows, because it is his business to know, that he is a model patient. Even entrusted to help out run Arkham. He loves being around people. But too much excitement tires him out. To pass the time he paints or he spends time with Ivy in the garden. Harleen Quinzel sometimes visits them.

Any footage he can find of the cctv in Arkham depecting the Joker has him subdued. He has scoured so much footage without seeing him shake with laughter. At most he smiles and shrugs his shoulders.

Alfred doesn't say anything. But he makes him tea and he brings it to him more frequently, trying to help him in any way he can. It feels similar, Batman takes the tea and drinks it, to how the first cup of tea tasted like after he had come home that night.

The Justice Lords attempt to get him to leave the Batcave and help them, but Batman tells them he is busy dealing with something important.

He watches the Joker attempt to put puzzles together with Edward Nygma. It's a 12+ puzzle. They're struggling.

Harleen Quinzel brings them 5+ puzzles next time. She sits with the Joker and she tells him about her day, about her new job at a different clinic. About how she wised up. Then, mushing her head in hand: "It was either I wised up, or I became like you and Ivy. Not much of a choice."

The Joker has given up on the puzzle. He tells Harley about this butterfly he saw in the garden. He has nothing else that stood out to him. It was purple. He thinks he likes purple.

Harley scoffs. "Now that's funny."

The Joker shrugs. "Sorry."

"What for?"

He shrugs again. And he manages to look into the camera. And how many times has he looked into Arkham cameras and left messages just for Batman to decipher? Is this something he remembers. Is this something he wants to tell Batman?

"Sorry." He looks at Batman. But Batman thinks that this is the Joker telling him he has nothing to be sorry for.

Batman cuts all contact with Arkham. He does not look at cctv. He does not read any news or any reports.

Alfred still brings tea and he still doesn't say anything. What can he say?

Nothing. So Batman doesn't waste words. He instead pursues research that leads him to finding alternative realities.

Watching himself is not something Batman is interested in. It means nothing to him to see Bruce Wayne or Batman or some amalgam of different circumstances.

And he is just about to step away from the computer and put an end to this research - when he hears it.

It's loud and maniacal and freeing and mad.

It's angry and despicable and outrageous.

It's dangerous and intelligent.

It's him.

Batman stares at the Joker, clad in purple and green, holding a laughing gas bomb and aiming it at the Batman of his world, with a grin so wide it must hurt. "Batsy, just in time for the punchline!" He throws the bomb and laughs.

[finniestoncrane]

Yanno what id love to ask this purely for self indulgent reasons. What do you think of arkham eddie with an SO who's also autistic since we all are pretty damn sure he is? Like does the connection between them happen faster due to similar communication styles, how does he feel about parallel play, etc

YOU ARE JUST PREACHING TO ME THIS IS URGH and it made me feel so soft and warm. i'm going to try and NOT make this about my self-insert oc, but this is literally her and eddie, they are autistic 4 autistic/bisexual 4 bisexual love

but yeah, this is my daydreams literally written out 💚

i figure eddie would never have been diagnosed. he's old enough to not have been identified as anything other than "gifted" at school and i think his parents seem like the type who would avoid diagnosis out of ~shame~ so he'd be misdiagnosed or not diagnosed at all (until batman comes along with his non-degree and decides eddie is an obsessive compulsive narcissist. which yeah, fair. but also hello pot, this is the kettle speaking????)

anyway i think he would avoid all long-term relationships out of trust and a need to prove himself as above human needs and completely elf-sufficient, but it'd be easiest for him to get on with someone who is also autistic, even if they had very different communication styles. and i bet that would confuse him at first like "why does this idiot not bother me as much as all the other idiots"

a lot of the "bonding" would be done in silence, and would probably come from a place of blunt honesty, where eddie realised he could trust his new friend because they're either not afraid enough to lie to him or are too honest to know better. and he'd relish the ability to turn to someone and say "you are making my space crowded with your existance and i need you to leave" without them getting all moody, because they'd understand immediately

there might be a point where he picks up on things that make his new buddy a lil bit different, but i think he'd recognise them as brilliance before he thought of them as something "wrong" with them. mostly, because he'd see himself reflected back. hyperfixations and obsessions with certain acts/scenarios/things, an either intense focus or a complete lack of it, prone to sensory overload (which eddie doesn't know the name of before he meets his friend, he just assumes he has anger issues and is bad for going into tantrums), and there's bound to be a point where they both come to the realisation that neither of them understands other people's emotions or morals (cue a shared conversation about how people think batman is acceptable but not eddie)

going back to the bonding in silence thing, he's 100% given the key to life when he realises parralell play works for him. like you're telling him that you can be in the same room with someone and do your own thing completely, but they're there if you think of a stupid pun or you want to walk over to them to say "look what i made" have them go "wow!" and then turn around and go back to work???? where has this BEEN all his life (although now that he thinks about it, he did enjoy quietly reading amongst the other inmates at arkham)

anyway, i think at a certain point he'd find the bravery to tell his new friend that he thinks they're soulmates. maybe he'd follow that up with a confusion about romantic intent or interest, maybe he'd request a formal recognition of their friendship. and no doubt his lil buddy would be confused until eddie says "we're soulmates because we are literally the same person. we do all the same things. we think the same way." and his friend is like "that's sweet, eddie. and yeah, we might be soulmates. but i think a lot of that is because we're both autistic"

and eddie is like

"we're both what? so you're? and i'm? OH!!!!!!!"

and then everything falls into place, like he's just solved a complex riddle he didn't even know he was working through and he's stuck standing there for a while like:

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Where Hope Rises

by smallestfox Clark Kent had lived his whole life among humans, but Superman—the alien, the stranger in the cape—was born in fire and chaos, in humanity’s darkest corners. When he finally revealed himself, he made no attempt to be like them. Instead, he hovered inches above the ground, his eyes unblinking, his movements too precise, as though humanity were something he had studied rather than experienced. He did not try to hide his past, but neither did he elaborate on it. He offered only brief, disquieting glimpses, allowing people to come to their own conclusions. And it was through this unsettling honesty that the world came to know Superman—both as an alien and as one of their own. Words: 9896, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 2 of Alternate heroes, same hearts Fandoms: Superman - All Media Types, DCU Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Clark Kent, Martha Kent, Bruce Wayne, Lois Lane, James "Jimmy" Olsen, Jonathan Kent, Barry Allen, Dru-Zod, General Zod Relationships: Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent & Lois Lane, Clark Kent & Jonathan Kent & Martha Kent, Dru-Zod & Clark Kent, Barry Allen & Clark Kent Additional Tags: Inhuman Superman, Inhuman Clark Kent, Cryptid Batfamily (DCU), Secret Identity, False Identity, Clark Kent is Superman, Early Superman Days, Hope vs. Despair, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Protectiveness, Protective Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne Friendship, Alien Clark Kent, Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne Share a Brain Cell via https://ift.tt/UNGp71W

[psalmsofpsychosis]

Some Batman: Telltale thoughts

[this is a Batman Telltale critical post, ye be warned.]

So. There are perhaps no words in the english language to describe with how stupid i feel right now.

I started Telltale Batman because i thought that it's one of the more distinct unconventional Batman narratives that would let you have a more interesting, complex and nuanced relationship between Bruce and Joker— the game even lets you bring all of Bruce's sincere hypocrisy and sentimental selfishness to the surface and have him admit that yes, he can fight the rogues gallery because it takes a madman to know a madman; to love a madman. For a moment i geniunely thought that i can escape the everpresent shadow of DC hays code in the freakshow funhouse that is Batman comics, i thought Telltale had done something different.

But telltale's approach to The Enemy Within is so flaky and flimsy and timid at best— such noncommittal twist on themes of pain and grief. They take on a hefty plotline, "what does it take to actually fight through evil and be surrounded by it? How long does it take before your resolve and your selfhood cracks? When you lose the mask, which one did you truly lose— The ideal persona, the superhero, the crusader, or the person underneath, the casket that holds all your humanity and your heart and your hopes? How long can you stare onto the abyss before it stares onto you?" It's indeed a very Nietzsche approach to Batman— except that a good Nietzsche narrative takes a lot of intentional plot points and honesty of thought and of heart. And Telltale doesn't commit, not to Bruce's characterization, and not to any other character, and definitely not to Joker's journey in any variation of it. The existence of the Vigilante route is useless on every front; Joker is going to turn into a villain anyway, just with a different hello kitty eyeshadow palette and an extra bland consolation lollipop. No good choice Bruce makes on Joker's behalf affects anything whatsoever, and i particularly love the "community and friendship and sympathy do not help the mentally ill and all that ever works is punishment and shock therapy and confinement and loneliness" message the vigillante route puts on the table, charming charming status quo commandments from DC as always.

Telltale Batman could only be revolutionary if it had dared to break comic convention and let the vigillante route play out like Selina and Bruce's relationship always does; very grey morality, irrational, full of tension and trust, unstable, intriguing, inexcusable, irreversible, unavoidable and heartfelt, human. But we can't have nice things in batmanverse, so both Joker routes run on stuck gears and topple and fall into a predictable narrative hole that neither Bruce nor Joker can claim out of.

And on the predictable front? this story is too lukewarm to be a good time for me personally. When you get 84 Batman comics per minute every other Tuesday, all ending the same way no matter whatever the fickity happens inbetween, you have to pull no punches. This is my 53368532th Batman-with-tragic-batjokes-implications read of the week, say something new or forever hold your blue-balling silence, i dont care.

[thattimdrakeguy]

A Mild-Small Ramble-Jamble About Comics. Again. Yeah.

Look, I don't read comics anymore. I don't. At least DC Comics. Why would I? They're bad. You think they're popular 'cause of what the fandom makes you think? No, honey, what you think is popular is purely because most people who talk pretty about it will eat what ever slop they give you. Most people left. This is why characters that seem popular keep getting cancelled. There's no deeper reason than that. Most simply think they're a waste of time, and aren't very good.

Is that rude to say? Yes. I know it is. But I also do not care that much at the same time. Enjoy your slop.

Not everyone needs a five star meal to be content, you get what I'm saying?

I'm certainly not someone that needs a five star meal. I'm content with a two star meal honestly if that needs to be.

All I want is something that feels like it was made and properly prepared by someone who cared. In food, enough to have a nice enough taste. In comics it's that I want the writer to at least seem like they're trying their best to understand the character they're writing, and to give them nice new chapters and adventures that feel like they're worth reading and fit along nicely with the character.

All you have to do is give a shit.

Simply put, I'm fine with a person doesn't know what Tim Drake's favorite pizza is, as long as they know the sort of boy he is.

Someone forgets Damian Wayne doesn't eat meat? Well, I guess as long as they know who he is and who he isn't. It's not brought up that much in all honesty. I can forgive them not knowing one trait, that typically doesn't effect is personality in nearly every other moment not directly relating to it.

And gosh, if someone doesn't understand Superman that badly, why would I read anything they write?

Some characters like Batman have had such a varied existence as a fictional character due to the events in the industry that has forced changed upon him. Making his inconsistency, at least, to an extent, forgivable.

Others don't. They were made in times where comics have remained consistent beyond the tastes of the public changing. So when a character changes so violently, with no good reason, it's distracting and bad.

I'm not gonna be someone who'll let a writer making random changes be considered 'character development' when I know better. Character changes have to make sense and have some level of consistency with the character and the heart of their story to be actual character development. Treating someone's lazy work as if they did something good, only let's the poor work continue.

To me, if I have to convince myself I like something by lying to myself. I don't like the damn thing. That's harder to do when you're an active part of the fandom that takes up a good chunk of your personal life. Believe you me.

I'd rather read a mediocre comic that gives me the character, then a story that doesn't give me anything.

That has a soul at least. You could feel a passion then.

Yet, 'cause of the lack of anyone who cares remaining, we're left with writers getting their fan fictions published. And I have no problems with fan fictions, hell, technically every story written after the original creator is a fan fiction.

At the same time however, you'd be pompous and playing dumb if you couldn't admit the difference between a professional writer using his talents to create the new chapter, keeping good consistency, and general writing knowledge to create a nice bridge to a new era with a new imagination behind the controls keeping a steady grip on what works and what doesn't.

And a fan fiction where every character has two traits, and neither of them are right. And people only praise because it offers itself nicely to people who are fine only care about the superficial.

This is all made so much worse by the active 'fandom' obsessing over writers who took interesting new characters, who had so many different levels of complexities and eccentricities, and instead wrote them to have moments where they're written like a toddler, and can't keep the character's personality and motives consistent to save their lives, even taking part in making them do things that the 'fandom' themselves deem out of character, but they're willingly ignore because oh they gave the character an 'uwu' moment that's causing everyone else to leave.

Or relationships that make no sense when you actually read what came before, simply because they changed the characters to become tropes they didn't fit into before, that they happen to like.

Edgy characters, with boiling turmoil in their spirits that has potential for stories to last decades about mature topics, the other character in their super-hero 'family' couldn't tell, being turned into...well, just an edgier version of what another character used to be.

Highly praised character arcs ignored to make a character more quirky and pathetic, to seem more 'dateable' to a sect of people on the internet who I doubt would care about the character otherwise, and likely doesn't buy any comics to begin with.

Which, a lot of this sounding, gatekeeping, and I don't really want to gatekeep, and I'm not. If they enjoy themselves, so be it. I'd rather be grumpy and ignore something I used to like, over people who have nothing else because of the state of their lives to feel like they have to be lonelier. I'm well aware of how a lot of people can be.

I've been in similar positions before.

I'm just saying stuff I've already said before, but I'm saying again, 'cause it's all came to the top of my mind again. That's all really.

A company with creative properties that used to be at the top of their industry now laid to rest as soulless duds that sometimes don't look like themselves, let alone act like themselves.

Why purchase a product that's more offensive then something I can get for free? At least the actual fan fiction normally doesn't promote itself as actually being the next chapter in a character's life.

There's changing with the times, and then there's laying down and playing dead out of desperation someone might take pity on them.

Treating scraps like treats, when if they'd try a little bit harder the world's at their finger tips again.

Only reason I'm saying this again is the added layer of "Oh fuck, they're still like this?". It's more sad than it was before, and it was already pathetic.

[amateurwind]

Chapter 2

10 years later.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Crash!

Shaking out his hand a bit, Tim huffs from his position in front of the computer. He didn’t even know why he even bothered setting his alarm anymore. It’s not like he even went to bed most nights anyways.

Gazing down at the abused alarm clock in the corner. He shrugs.

7:30.

Huh. He had to be at WE in about an hour. Turning from the gadget back to his screens. Welp let the suffering begin.

Heaving a sigh he stretches before easing out of his chair, and heading to the shower. Only slightly lamenting his lack of sleep. He had spent weeks hunting down Marconi’s drug trafficking ring, and countless hours pinpointing where they were going to make their next drop. Last night he'd finally narrowed it down to a warehouse; about a block west of Gotham docks.

Stepping into the shower, he recounts the events of last night's patrol…. We’ll the absolute failure of last night's patrol.

He suited up. Brought out all the bells and whistles. Even a few prototypes to field test. The deal never happened. And it seemed like everyone had decided to stay in last night. Not so much as a mugging, all night. Put all that effort to suit up and got stood up! Why were criminals so rude?

Yeah… That was the exhaustion talking. Tim, probably needed to sleep. Scoffing softly as he shuts off the water and steps out of the shower. Yeah, sleep wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. He had too much on his plate.

He pats dry the remains of his shower, then starts getting ready for the office.

W.E. was entering its busiest quarter. There was a plethora of meetings and launches happening over the next few weeks. Don’t even get him started on the R&D inspection this afternoon. He also needed to check in with Drake Industries to make sure preparations for the charity event next month, were proceeding as scheduled. Tightening his tie, Tim breathes.

There was also his patrol. He needed to pinpoint what the traffickers would do next since last night had been a bust. He��d probably have to ask Oracle to scrub the surveillance systems. His regular patrol tonight then maybe after he’d get to the case files Batman asked him to update and close. Tim's steps stutter.

Batman.

Oof that was a can of worms.

The bats hadn’t reached out since he brought Batman home. But to be fair neither had he. He felt, with all that had gone down, it was better to stay away. It had been months now. He wasn’t all that surprised. They all had made it clear what they thought of him. Replacement, useless, crazy, unwanted. Those were the words he couldn’t seem to shake. In all honesty, He knew that they weren’t wrong. After all, he had never been chosen for his role.

He’d fought tooth and nail just to be of use to Batman. Did the same with Nightwing, all to show that he had something to bring to the table. That was a waste of time. When Dick had taken away Robin, saying it was because he and Tim were equals, Tim knew the truth. He never had a seat at the table in the first place. So it shouldn’t have been so surprising that he got nothing.

Batman had recovered ages ago and never tried to find him to talk to. Not one call or attempt to reach out to Tim outside of casework. No olive branch or even an invite to dinner.

Signing he gathered up his paperwork. He was used to this. He has gone on a communications silence for longer. He understood, he didn't have anything helpful to add now that he had served his purpose. Tim tried not to let it bother him, but… Blast It All! He had been right.

He found the clues and gathered the evidence. All to bring his family back together. He had thought things would be ok when he returned with Bruce in tow. Maybe not a full membership but at least an apology. Maybe even one of Alfred’s cookies. But he had gotten nothing. No thank you, or a good job.

Dick just acted as if nothing had happened. Dami still seemed to hate his guts. And somewhere along the lines, Jason had joined up with them and he still had it out for his ‘replacement’. Yeah, Tim didn’t know when that had happened, and honestly, he didn't care. It just further proved his status. They force him out but Jason is welcomed back with open arms.

Cold bitterness settled in his heart.

Be the Adult, give it time, they said. Let’s be real… How was an ‘adult’ supposed to react to nearly getting stabbed, and shot at by an infant assassin and resurrected zombie? Anybody and their mother would have don't their best to make sure they never experienced that again. He grits his teeth in frustration.

‘Yeah, but when I try to defend myself, it's ‘Be an adult’.

He wasn't perfect. That was abundantly clear this past year. He could only take so much. He had cracked when Bruce and his friends died, but he had been right! It was all worth it…wasn’t it? Bruce was alive, and Gotham now had its protector back. So why did he feel as if he lost?

He had proven himself. He’d done the impossible. Played the cards he had been dealt and came out on top. They came home and Bruce was accepted back into his circle of family, and friends. Treated like a war hero returning home.

What did Tim get you might ask. What was his reward for bringing B home? For not giving up? He got a revoked family membership, a new ton of trauma, trust issues, and a missing spleen.

‘Congrats. Thank you for playing’ Tim thinks disdainfully.

He’d deluded himself. This wasn't a fairytale. There were no happy end endings, there was just life and that moved on. There was no consolation prize.

He stares at his reflection in the mirror. Sweet Diana. He looks like death-sucking on a lemon. The dark bruising under his eyes practically tells his story for him. A bit of concealer should help. The last thing he needed was somebody noticing and asking questions. Hopefully, that would be enough for today. One of the upsides of being CEO when you passed by everyone avoided you.

Turning toward the door his thoughts continue to drift back to his family. Family…Yeah, even after everything that’s what they were. It didn't matter if they thought the same, he would always sacrifice for his brothers. He had gone to hell and back for his family. That was his cross to bear. His pound of flesh.

It was obvious he was the only one who considered them brothers. Dick was so quick to throw him to the wolves. Hadn’t he meant anything? Dami is hell-bent on him. Hadn’t he done his best to welcome him? An for Jason… He had no clue what he should have done differently. Batman needed a robin, no one else was gonna do it. But that one choice made him the target of the undead’s ire.

They may have tolerated him but God knows that was a stretch. He had overstayed his welcome. He was an employee and he’d been fired. Maybe there was something wrong with him? Nobody ever stuck around. Everybody either left or cast him off. Collateral.

That’s all he’s ever been. That is why his parents found no qualms in selling him all those years ago.

Agony pierces his heart and a crushing weight pounds on his shoulders. He stumbles slightly catching himself on the desk, as his body suddenly sags with the weight of that revelation.

He had never forgotten that night. He’d kept a lookout since then. Then he became Robin. The man or whoever never came for him. When his parents passed away a few years back he had waited anxiously for someone to come for him. Nothing happened. It has been ten years.

He tried bringing it up to Bruce once in the early days but he brushed away Tim’s concerns. He got that. It is not like Tim had any evidence to go will his claims. Tim had searched for a lead himself but he couldn’t find even a whisper of any courts. He tried looking for anything about owls in Gotham solely based on the strange mask he remembered, but that also yielded nothing substantial.

As for his parents, well… They were dead.

They had been for three years now. They had always made their displeasure of Tim’s continued presence known. They never found out he had heard their intentions for him. He made sure to act as naturally as possible so as not to attract suspicion, but the knowledge was enough to kill any familial bond or love he had possessed. He still made sure he kept his charade strong.

He made sure to fulfill their expectations. He became a pawn and nothing more. When he forced Batman to take him the behavior simply evolved. He would keep Bruce in check but also fall in at a moment's notice. He understood the mission came first, no matter the cost. He knew his place. He’d done his best to hide any hope of something more than that. He needed to be useful.

That’s why he had been useful right? He kept Batman from killing himself or anyone else. Gave Dick the chance to learn how to be a big sibling so he was ready when Jason and Damian showed up. Guess he gave Damian a chance to blow off some steam and gave Jason someone to hunt instead of anyone else.

Oh… wow, that's depressing. Is anybody depressed yet?

He couldn’t deal with this at the moment. He had places to be and emotions to ignore. He needed coffee!

Coffee always helped balance his thoughts and kept him anchored. Brushing aside his…. Well, whatever this was; Tim grabbed his laptop bag, and keys before finally heading out the door. He honestly didn’t want to think about the situation with the bats. Like, at all. As for the man in the mask and whatever cult he was a part of…well nobody come in ten years no reason to worry now.

But that didn’t matter. He had a job to do.

Coffee first.

_______________________

Tim stared. He should have known. Looking up from his desk to the figure before him. Yeah, his fault, he should have guessed today would turn to crap as soon as his mind brought all that up this morning. What did TikTok call it? Oh yeah, a “no bones day”.

The day had been fine (after he got his coffee). He went to the meetings, re-evaluated a few details with the launches, and had a wonderful time going back and forth with the engineers in R&D. Sorted out a few issues with the Charity event at DI. All in all, it was productive.

No, what ruined it was the fact that Bruce, bloody, Wayne had decided to stop by the office for a meeting with him.

No forewarning, no phone call, not even a ‘ Hey Tim, is this a bad time’. He had just walked in. Thank Hera, his secretary saw Bruce walk in. He was able to stall his next meeting as Bruce Wayne sauntered through the doors.

Now he was sitting here in front of the man. He didn't know what Bruce wanted to discuss with him, but hell must have frozen since he was here in person. They had barely spoken since Bruce’s return. Not for lack of wanting to, it was just Tim didn't want to impose.

He had fulfilled his purpose; he brought bruce home like the good soldier he was. Now it was time to let him heal with his family. Tim didn't need to be around for that. He knew his relationship with Bruce was only as Robin. But he wasn’t Robin anymore. Dumb and dumber made sure of that. That and he didn't need any accusation of instigating Damian or setting Jason off. No. it was better he just stayed away.

Now here was Bruce in his office. Bruce looked well. A heck of a lot better than when he came home. But again why was he here?

“What are you doing here Bruce”?

Oof. That didn’t come out as he meant it to. Welp this is already off to a horrible start. Is it too late to jump off the clock tower? The first conversation in weeks and he’s already screwing it up.

Bruce, however, didn’t seem to notice his tone. He just continued to stand there. If he didn’t know Bruce so well he would have thought he was uncomfortable. Nervous? Oh, yup it's finally happened Tim has lost his mind.

Shaking himself out of his deliberation he watches Bruce closely. Analyzing every movement and micro-expression. Trying to gain some clue as to why the other was here. Was it the company? Something to do with one of the up-and-coming launches?

“I wanted to stop in and see if you made any progress on those files I gave you”. Came the man's reply.

Huh? This was about cases? He could have just emailed, or called. There were only 4 files, and from what Tim had seen there was nothing time-sensitive. They were cold cases after all. That can’t have been enough to bring him down here. Tim wasn’t born yesterday.

“That doesn't answer my question. Why are you here? If this was about the files you could have just emailed me”. Tim pressed. “I’ve reviewed those files and there is nothing that warrants your being here to check their status”. Honestly, he was too tired for this.

He waited as Bruce seemed to steal himself and tense. Tim braced himself. What had he done now? He tried to wrack his brain for anything that could be counted against him. Did he forget to send the report from last night?

“You haven't been by the manor in a while, and Dick said you weren't answering his messages. This seemed to be the best way to reach you”.

Wait, what?

Tim can only blink at the man. Whatever he had been expecting from this conversation, this wasn’t it. Maybe a lecture, or even a drop-off at best, but dropping by the manor? Not on the list. Ever since he was … what fired? Yeah, let's go with that. He hadn’t wanted to try his luck. What with Damian roaming the halls? But even then why not call…

Hold on! Did he hear that right? His eyes narrow as a few of his mentor's words register.

“Messages? I haven't received a call or a text from Dick or any of you in months. The only thing I've gotten from you is the files. Nothing else”.

He keeps his voice even. He was even more confused when Bruce looked shocked. Ok, what was Tim missing here? Was this a joke? He pulled out his phone and checked his history. Yeah… still nothing he hadn’t missed anything. He looks back to find Bruce watching him.

“Well… just make an effort to come by the manor. Alfred worries”. Bruce stiffly says. Yeah, that's not going to happen. What the heck is going on right now? He blames sleep deprivation.

“I’ll make sure to call him then”. Tim replied cordially. “As for Stopping by the manor…I have prior commitments”.

“Dick said there was a movie night this weekend. How about then”?

An awkward silence settles. Why was Bruce trying so hard? No better yet… why did he care. He stared. He can't help it. It didn’t make any sense. He searches for any sign that this is a joke. His confusion only grows when he can't find anything in Bruce's expression.

Shaking his head, “I don't think that would be a good idea”.

“And why not”?

Tim sighs, “Bruce look, a lot of things went down…changed while you were gone. And one thing that was made obvious is that I am not welcome in your home. I appreciate the invite though”. Tim massages his forehead, waiting for Bruce's response.

The exhaustion of the day is pressing down on his shoulders now. He didn't want to get into this, but there was no way he would put himself in a position to be attacked or gaslighted. Not again.

“That doesn't make any sense”. Bruce looked confused.

Tim blinked. He felt simmering anger. ‘It’s Ok, calm down. Bruce doesn't know what happened, and I’m not gonna say anything either. Calm down.’

“Dick said he's been trying to contact you and left messages. Jason and Barbra say you haven't responded to their calls either”. Bruce insisted, crossing his arms. “ It’s true I don’t know what happened when I was gone, but there are things I have heard. And I am not sure it justifies you ignoring your family”.

Oh, screw this!

Anger burned hot and fast. The only thing echoing in his mind was, ‘How dare he’. He had no clue what the others told Bruce but he hadn’t heard anything from the bats outside the costume in months. They had all made it pretty clear what they expected from him. He was the one that was seen but not heard. Hate the point of adding insult to injury.

He had kept his distance as they wanted. It took him a while but, he got the message. What did they want from him? He had gone out of his way to respect their wish. He wasn’t welcome. Ok! Why act like it was anything different? This was a new low, even for bats.

They were mocking him. They had to be.

Tim’s face hardens. His eyes narrowed in concentrated anger. His jaw sets as he tries to control himself.

“Allow me to repeat myself. I have not heard from anyone in the last several months”. Tim said, speaking slowly, and pausing in between words so he knew they were understood. “If you don’t believe me I can show you my cellphone records as well as my official transcripts from the phone in this office, and you may see for yourself”.

Tim’s voice was cold and sharp. ‘How dare they’, continues to echo in his mind. He realizes it may be a bit petty but he shoves his phone in Bruce’s face. Showing him his call history. A lot of outgoing calls but no incoming ones from anyone besides WE connections. Tim knows Bruce is well aware that Tim kept records of everything.

“I am not going to sit here and argue about what makes sense or not. I don't know what Dick told you, and I don't care”. Ok, so that was harsh but he didn't appreciate being fibbed on and then ambushed. If they wanted to play this game then he would teach them how to play.

“If this concludes our business, then I must be going. As for the files everything will be taken care of. I’ll send them to you once they are complete. Ms. Fox will show you out”. He said standing and brushing past Bruce.

“And next time please call and make an appointment. This may be your company Mr. Wayne, but please consider the time of those of us who run it.

Yes, he is aware he is being completely petty, but the tiny bit of regret is drowned out but vindictive glee when Bruce freezes in front of his desk. Tim could try to figure out what Bruce was thinking based on the man’s face but he could care less. His eyes scan the man before him as he processes. Tim waits half a second before standing and walking around the desk.

Walking out the door Tim signaled Tam to take care of Bruce. Before heading to his next meeting. A small part of him worried he was out of line back there, but it was too late now. Even then he only spoke what he’d believed.

Despite everything it looked like B was doing well, which was good. But he couldn’t deal with everything at the moment. He wasn't ready for that storm cloud. A small bit of him tells him he is ignoring his problems, but he brushes it off. He would deal with it later.

Now hopefully the rest of the day was less eventful.

Where was his coffee?

_______________

Bruce’s Pov

Bruce stood in front of Tim's desk for what seemed like hours before Tam gently usher him out. What had just happened? And what did Tim mean They hadn't called him. Dick said he tried calling him just days ago and got no answer. Oracle had confirmed that Tim hadn't gotten a new number. So that wasn’t it.

He knows that a lot had happened since his return. He had only just started to settle back into his role. He hasn’t been in touch with his third son in that time. He just got so busy with his recovery he just forgot to check-in. Tim hadn't answered any of his messages or calls. The others experienced the same thing. They had all thought Tim was busy or ignoring them.

But even that didn’t make sense. Tim was always attentive so if he was busy why didn’t he call back? That was the main factor that tipped the scales in favor of Tim. He wanted to come down here to see for himself. And he had. There was no record on Tim’s phone of receiving any calls from them. There should be some record of at least one call.

He should know.

He had been the one to make the call to Tim that morning and had gotten no answer. Only there was no record of his call.

What was happening?

The High pitched whine of worry settled into him. Bruce reviewed the conversation. Tim had looked awful. It was hidden well enough to fool anyone else but a bat could see. He was slumped over in what looked to be exhaustion. The touch of concealer under his eyes was further proof of that. The young man had been bracing as if he expected some form of confrontation. Tim was only 16 when Bruce was lost. When had he become like this?

While professional, he was cold. When had Tim become cold to him? When Tim had brought him back he had felt a piece of him heal at the knowledge that his son had been the one to figure out his clues and bring him home. Then when he returned home he was wrenched from the fantasy to learn that Tim had moved out. He wasn't there. One of his sons was gone.

When he asked after Tim’s whereabouts the others were very closed-lipped. Any information about what has transpired was a well-guarded vault. Dick briefly mentioned that there had been a disagreement at the beginning of his departure (death), which led to Tim disappearing for a while. But the Boy had eventually come back when he cooled down.

Bruce is ashamed to admit that he left it alone. Choosing to believe the words of his eldest as well as the input from his youngest. He wanted to ask Jason for his opinion but the young man hadn’t been involved at that point and could offer no extra information. But now, seeing his third son after so long faced with his behavior today it was obvious that he’d miscalculated. By an extreme margin.

He was missing a vital part of the story, and he needed to find out what had transpired. And he had a pretty good idea of where to start. He needed to figure it out and mend the rift between him and his son before it was too late.

________________________

[mxtantrights]

past lives | epilogue

a/n: time to look forward. and back. this doesn’t feature a big time jump. I’m gonna make an ending so cheesy... I think I’ve left this story pretty open so that you can insert whatever you want / envision for yourself. Once again thank you all who kept up and read or who’s gonna binge read once this comes out! Love ya <3

You opened your front door and there they all were. Most importantly Alfred. You had to show the man you could cook and fend for yourself if need be. Even though others couldn’t say the same.

“Great you’re all here. Come in, I’ve got the table set up and everything.” you said. 

They walk in one-by-one into your home. You were up last night tossing and turning because it really wasn’t much. They didn’t all live in the manor currently but they all had lived there previously. 

You eyed Damian specifically, to see his reaction to your place. He hadn’t been inside of it yet. Only ever on the fire escape and even that needed some work. You watched as took one swift look around and nodded at you. 

“It’s quaint.” he said.

“Did you just call me cheap or something?” you said.

“It was a compliment.”

“You hesitated.”

-

You wince as Alfred wrapped up your lower stomach. It was to help the swelling he said. You were sitting up on the bed in the guest bedroom. 

“May I ask what caused such bruising.” he asks.

You look over at Bruce who’s out of his nighttime suit and is watching from across the room. 

“A really big box.” 

You see Tim leaning against the door archway, hands behind his back. Bruce was Batman and Damian was Robin. That meant the Tim shaped Red Robin was Tim. He steps further into the room and reveals his hands.

He hands you two pills, “for the pain.”

You take them out of his hands and put them into your mouth. Then he hands you an opened water bottle. You take that and gulp down the pills, you have to tilt you head back a bit. 

When you tilt it back forward you feel the hammering of the punches again. It makes you wince. Alfred had already did the best he could with your face. No stitches thankfully. But just bandages and ointments.

“So how long have you known I was his child?” you ask Tim.

He shrugs his shoulders, “After the gala before the lunch interview”

“You mean the set up to get my DNA.”

He winces when you say that. 

“Tomatoe, tomato.”

Alfred lets you know that he’s done wrapping you and that you should lay down and try to get some rest. Which you don't argue with, you get the feeling that you don’t really argue with a man like him. He helps you pull your shirt down.

So you lean back slowly into the bed. You try to hold back the sounds of pain but one slips past your lips. This makes Tim and Bruce stand over your bed.

“You don’t have to worry. I’m pretty sure I’m not gonna die from a couple beatings from Ra’s.” You say plainly.

And it hurts Bruce. Damian had told him that you were in the league years before. But he could tell the harsh treatment you suffered there stayed with you. You were able to take so many hits from Ra’s it was something he never wanted to witness in his life.

“Any normal person would.” Tim says.

Bruce looks over at him.

“Well after I came out the pit things changed.” You answer.

They both look at you then. You figured Damian told at least Bruce that you were brought back to life by the pit. Maybe he was leaving that to you to discuss. 

“We’ll talk about this in the morning. Get some-” Bruce begins.

Then you hear the incoming footsteps to your new room. Sure enough Damian pops into view in the doorway. He wastes no time in running over to you, stopping short of hugging you once he sees the wrappings peeking through your newly acquired pajamas.

“Alfred says you’ll live.” he says.

You nod you head lightly, as to not start another headache before the ibuprofen kicks in. 

“You got there right in time.”

“I shouldn’t have let him get to you in the first place.” 

��Wasn’t your fault, besides I can handle myself.” 

“Obviously not look at your face.”

“I was in retirement. Cut me some slack.”

Bruce interrupts the impromptu match the both of you were having. Even though a part of him didn’t want to. He wanted to see the two of you interact more, since the both of you were family after all.

“Time to rest, say goodnight Damian.”

Damian takes another look over you. 

“Goodnight.”

He walks out the door with his brother and father. And they shut the lights on their way out. You're thankful you get to shut your eyes for a bit. The homecoming Ra’s gave you was anything but sweet.

By morning time, you wake up to find Damian sleeping in a chair at the end of your bed. He has a blanket pulled over his form, from either Alfred or Bruce you take it.

-

“Thanks for offering to do the dishes with me. I know Alfred is probably losing it in there.” You said.

Bruce looked at you with a laugh, “Yeah.”

When you handed the last dish for him to dry and cut off the sink you didn’t make a move to leave the kitchen. You had some words to say to him now that everything was out in the open.

“I wanna be clear, that day when you hinted at the recorder being on and me hearing your conversation with the others, I wasn’t rejecting you.” 

Bruce stopped drying the plate for a second. You saw him falter. He tried to pick up like it didn’t happen but you saw it. Instead of letting him continue you grabbed the plate from him.

He looked at you. 

“You weren’t?”

You shake your head, “No. I think you're a great guy, from what I know at least. And you had to be or my mother wouldn’t have liked you. Nor would she had wanted me to find you.”

“About your mother-”

“We can talk about her another time. I’m talking about you Bruce Wayne. I wanted to let you know that I do wanna figure out this relationship. I couldn’t say anything before because there was things I was unsure of.”

He cleared his throat.

“Like me?”

“No I wasn't unsure of you. I was unsure of how you would react about me and my past. I was your secret child who had been murdered and brought back to life by a mercenary who trained me to kill. On top of that, I had unknowingly cared for your youngest son before either of us knew anything.” you said.

He nodded his head at your words.

“But I think I knew I was sure of you when you wanted to fake me out about the added information in your interview. When you let me walk away.” you said.

Bruce tried to hide a grin but he couldn’t do it, “I thought you rejected me that day.”

“I was trying to protect you. Before I knew who you were during the night time, that is.”

“So now that you know, how do we do this?” he asked.

You hold up on finger, “First, you will not send me money. I make enough as it is and I do not need more.”

“Maybe just a savings account then.” 

“No, Bruce, no accounts. And no secret accounts either, I’ve heard from Alfred about your little set ups and such.”

“Sneaky.”

“I like him”

- 

When you finally get to the dinning room in the morning everyone, sans Alfred, is waiting for you. You hold onto your wrapping as you take the open seat next to Damian and across from Jason.

“I just wanna say I’m sorry for flirting with you before I knew you were family.” Jason says.

He doesn’t sound that sorry, which makes you look over at Damian. He’s got a proud smirk on his face. You face forward again.

“It’ll never happen again right Todd?” he asks.

Jason mumbles something indescribable. 

Then the room is filled with a moment of silence. It’s not really awkward per say, but you think it’ because they all have so many questions they don’t know where to start.

“So you guys LARP every night?” you ask.

Tim busts out laughing along with Dick. Jason crosses his arms over his chest with a chuckle. Damian, who you can tell is looking at you like you’ve grown another head, isn’t laughing. Neither is Bruce. Like father, like son you guess.

“I think you’re gonna fit right in.” Dick says.

“Speaking of which, are you gonna live here now?” Damian asks point blank.

Bruce beings to apologize for him but you shake your head and let him know it’s alright.

“I’m going to remain at my own residence. If you wanna come over you know the way.”

Jason has a look of shock on his face and Damian stops him. 

“Shut it Todd.”

-

A knock comes from your front door. It must be one of them, maybe they forgot something? You jog over to the door and open it.

Dick Grayson is in your doorway. 

“Did you leave something here?” you asked.

“No, I just wanted to say that I’m glad you're a part of the family. Honestly I’ve never seen Damian so calm before. And not his typical calm where he’s planning out every exit, this is different. It’s like he’s a normal kid.” he said.

You are speechless for a moment. 

“Thank you for letting me know, Dick.” you smiled.

“Gotta get going, a flight to catch.” 

You nodded you head, “Jason said you were in between red-heads. Do I wanna know what that means?”

He chuckled.

“I’ll let you know when I visit again, gotta go meet Wally.” he said.

Then he left with a simple wave. You could tell he wanted to hug you but didn’t want to cross any boundaries you might’ve had. In all honesty you would’ve hugged him back. You can see a bit of him in Damian and you’re thankful. 

You closed the door and turned the lock. 

-

As the rest of the boys cleared out, Bruce slid over your phone. The new one that you thought you had dropped on the sidewalk when you were taken. You reach for it and it’s totally fine.

You look up at him.

“Thanks, how did you get this?” 

“Nyssa.” 

Her name makes you still. She was never going to contact you after that night. Whatever friendship the two of your had was over. It was going to be hard to come to terms with but you’d have to make do.

But why did Nyssa have your phone?

“But this was on the ground last time I checked.” you asks.

“We saw on cctv, she picked it up while you were being put into the van. She had it on her the whole time, she’s the reason we were able to find you. Nyssa turned it on and it pinged a tower.” he answers.

Maybe it would be the last thing she ever did for you. Saving your life. You didn’t know what to think about her actions. It all felt like a past life or something.

You turn it on and see that you have unread messages and unanswered calls. Spanning days.

“How do I have all of this on my phone?” “I might’ve asked a favor from Killer Croc. It’s just the SIM card don't worry.”

“You mean Batman asked Killer Croc to find my phone?” 

“He told me it wasn’t that far from where you dropped it, outside of your building.”

“What I’m hearing is you and Killer Croc talk one-on-one.”

-

About fifteen minutes later, after Dick returned, there was a knock you were expecting. It came from your fire escape. You hurried your way into your room and drew up the blinds. There he was.

You slid open the window.

“Hurry up and get in, it’s fuckin cold out there and I’ve got nothing on.” you said.

He climbed through the window and stood toe to toe with you. 

“I can see that. Nice tank top.” he joked.

You raised your eyebrows at him, “You know I can just kick you out of my home you horny bastard.” 

“Oh but then we couldn’t all the fun stuff.”

“That would indeed be the point Jason.”

He kissed the top of your head. Then he began to peel off his jacket. The same one that he wore to the gala when you first met. He looked just as good right now as he did that night. The cigarette smell might’ve added to that too. He placed it over the chair that sat in the corner of your room near the window.

It was a quick, like lighting really, and you saw him move his eyes away but he looked at your scar below your collarbone. It stuck out like a sore thumb when you two weren’t rolling around in the dark.

But before you can say something to him, he speaks.

“I never told you this, but I think we must’ve ran into each other before all of this.” he says.

You tilt your head, “where would I run into you, Jason Todd?”

“I’m not sure, maybe in a past life or something.” he shrugs.

You watch as he walks past you, heading to the kitchen no doubt. Out of the both of you your fridge is the better choice for actual food and not takeout. You follow behind him, only up until your room’s doorway which you lean your body against. And you think to yourself, you have a couple of past lives now.

[the-delta-42]

The Demon and the Guardian

The Demon and the Guardian

Ra’s Al Ghul glared at the hidden box in the corner, he could tell just from sight that it was empty, meaning either all of the Miraculouses were in use or, more likely, the Guardian knew he was here.

“Doesn’t anyone in your family know to visit during the day?” Asked Marinette, as she entered the room.

Ra’s turned his glare onto the Guardian, as she frowned at him. Marinette took a step to the side, dodging Talia’s lunge.

“I see and hear everything that happens in this house, did you seriously hope to ambush me in my own home?!” Demanded Marinette, before snapping her fingers.

Talia gasped as she found herself in a plush armchair, while Ra’s kept glaring.

“I don’t see why two Guardians can’t have a civilized conversation without having to rely on violence.” Said Marinette, leaning back in her chair.

“I’m surprised you even recognised me as a Guardian, Mrs. Agreste.” Said Ra’s, his glare only deepening.

“Honesty, are all of you exactly like Su-Han?” Asked Marinette, her eyebrows raised, and tone exasperated.

“No, I just don’t like interlopers.” Said Ra’s, making Marinette grimace.

“I can see where Damien gets his attitude.” Said Marinette, leaning forwards and opening a book, “I know about you from the Temple’s archives, Ra’s Al Ghul, taken from his family around the same time and Wang Fu, believed that the Miraculous should be used to control the world, departed the order when you realised you weren’t going to get anywhere, founded the League of Assassins and then capitalised on the vacuum of power when the Temple fell, I assume that the Order’s been giving you some trouble?”

Ra’s glared at her, as Marinette smirked and closed the Tome.

“I’m going to give you the same answer as I gave the Justice League and all the other heroes and villians kicking around the globe,” Said Marinette, her face impassive, “Paris, is my turf. You stay out of it and I don’t invade your turf.”

“I was under the impression that ‘Hawkmoth’ had been neutralised.” Said Ra’s, making Marinette scowl.

“The Order’s informed me that the Butterfly has been stolen.” Said Marinette, frowning, “They don’t know who it was, but it was someone who knew the layout and general security of the Temple.”

Ra’s grunted, already seeing how little the order had changed, “And, yet you keep the miracle box in this room.”

Marinette snorted, “Don’t be ridiculous, Ra’s, that is a fake, a decoy to prevent anyone from looking any further.”

Ra’s didn’t react, only tilting his head when there was a loud thump.

“Expecting guests?” Asked Ra’s, as there was another thump.

“No.” Said Marinette, opening the door.

There was a man with a foot long beard with blood running from his eyes, ears, nose and mouth. Marinette flicked the man on the nose, and he vanished in a puff of orange smoke.

“The black cat miraculous is to be given to Damien.” Said Talia, getting a growl from Marinette, “It’s current wielder is unworthy-”

Talia gasped for air as she felt a lump form in her air ways.

“Let’s get something clear,” Snarled Marinette, thunder rolling, “you do not command me in who, or what, receives a Miraculous, especially since I’ve given all the Kwami permission to kill anyone who’s stolen or is using a Miraculous for their own ends, and I assure you, Damien Wayne will never wield a Miraculous as long as I still draw breath.”

Ra’s and Talia found themselves back in the head quarters of the League of Assassins.

“You stupid girl.” Said Ra’s, stalking away from his daughter.

TDaTG

Damien winced as Marinette grabbed Bart and threw him across the room.

“How do you do that?!” Demanded Bart, rushing back over to her.

Marinette smirked, before pulling her sleeve up, revealing the snake miraculous, “Luka’s having an operation today, and we’ve been bonded to our Miraculouses to the extent where we can use our powers outside of the suit.”

“Recognised; Batman: 02.”

Marinette folded her arms and looked at Batman, not reacting when he glared at her.

“Ooh, the famous ‘Bat Glare’,” Snarked Marinette, smirking, “What’s happened, the Batmobile lost a wheel and the Joker got away?”

“Talia Al Ghul sent me a letter.” Said Batman, holding the envelope up, “Something about you threatening her family?”

Marinette snorted, “No, what I did was illiterate that she didn’t decide who got what miraculous.”

“Meaning?” Asked Batman, his tone flat.

“Her son isn’t going to wield as Miraculous as long as I live.” Said Marinette, shrugging, “He doesn’t have a good enough control over his emotions.”

“Neither did you.” Said Batman, everyone tensing.

“All the more reason to not give him one,” Said Marinette, glaring, “When Hawkmoth first reared his head, I sent out requests for help to the Justice League. And you all laughed about it, it wasn’t until Hawkmoth went to New York did you deign to even investigate the claims and then what happened?”

“The Justice League and all foreign heroes and villains were denied access.” Said Wonder Girl, as Marinette nodded.

“But that didn’t stop the various assassins that Ra’s sent after my team, my family,” Growled Marinette, the room slowly growing colder, “if that child is anything like his mother or her father, I wouldn’t hesitate in relieving his shoulders of his head, just as I did to all the other assassins that thought they could take the gems.”

Batman was silent, as Marinette exhaled sharply through her nose. Marinette rolled her eyes and flicked her hand, opening a portal back to Paris, “If you don’t mind, I’ll be taking my leave.”

Marinette stepped through the portal, before it closed.

TDaTG

Marinette scowled and rubbed her eyes. She frowned, she knew Bruce was concerned about her safety, and she knew there were similarities between her and Damien, the only difference was that she wasn’t raised to be a weapon. Marinette heard a light ringing sound, she sighed heavily and hung her head.

“Let me guess, Cheshire?” Said Marinette, looking at the woman’s mask, “How many times do I have to send you to the rainforests before you stop turning up here?”

“I need the money.” Said Cheshire, as Marinette shook her head.

Cheshire jumped at her, Marinette opened a portal to Cheshire’s living room and closed it after the Assassin had gone through.

“This is getting beyond a joke.” Muttered Marinette, rubbing her face.

“Cheshire’s here.” Said Adrien, looking up at Marinette, as Emma played on the rocking horse.

“She was, she’s home now.” Said Marinette, going to sit down, only to gag and slap a hand over her mouth.

Adrien sighed and passed her a bucket, allowing Marinette to throw up.

“Does the baby have to be so disgusting?” Asked Emma, stopping the rocking horse and looking up at her parents, “I don’t like it when Maman feels yucky.”

“Emma, all babies make their mother throw up, it’s what makes us know they’re there.” Said Adrien, as Marinette shook her head.

“Really?” Asked Emma, as Adrien froze under his wife’s glare.

“Well, it’s one of the things that makes un know they’re there,” Corrected Adrien, quickly, “there’s ultrasounds, cravings, mood swings, the odd fainting spell or two and the way Maman’s belly swells up.”

“So, Maman’s going to get fat?” Questioned Emma, as Marinette buried her face in her hand.

“No, she’s growing a baby.” Said Adrien, sweating slightly.

“The embryo starts out at the size of a pea and, over the course of roughly 40-weeks, grows to the be size of a watermelon, once it starts to get too big, her water will break and she’ll go into labour and over a period of several hours, the baby will be born.” Said Damien, making everyone jump.

“How’d you get in?” Asked Adrien, as Damien had the decency to look ashamed.

“I picked the lock.” Said Damien, as Marinette threw up again.

“I really hope there’s a reason for your visit.” Said Marinette, as she reached for a bottle of water.

Damien shifted uncomfortably.

“Damien, if you’re here to demand a miraculous-”

“Can you help me control my emotions?” Interrupted Damien, “I heard father say you had trouble with your emotions when you were my age.”

Marinette sighed, before standing up, “I can direct you on certain courses of action, but emotional control is only something you can learn from yourself.”

Damien looked down.

“But” Damien looked up at Marinette’s voice, “I will help you wherever I can.”

[animemangasoul]

Who Are You?

Summery: A Wizard takes away Tim’s memories of his least important person. Unfortunately for Damian, that’s him.

He doesn’t remember him. Doesn’t remember the little kid with the pinched face and uncertain eyes. He looks at him and he feels... something, but it’s not enough so he doesn’t pursue it. Just gives the little guy a wide smile and asks him his name. He must be important, he thinks. If he lives with Bruce.

“Damian.” The words are spoken softly, hesitantly, but they are also firm, strong. Tim feels like if he had known him, he would have admired him for that.

Instead he smiles even wider and reaches out a hand. “Tim,” he says in return and something flashes in the kid’s eyes; the sharp gaze darting between his outstretched hand to his face and then back to his hand again. Tim frowns. Maybe they hadn’t gotten along back--

But the kid doesn’t give him a chance to retract his offer, darting forward almost in desperation as he lungs forward to sandwich Tim’s fingers between his own two hands. “Pleasure to meet you again Timothy,” he blurts out; cheeks turning beat red as he does. But Tim can only smile, because the sincerity behind the halting words are very evident.

He wonders if they’d gotten along well.

He wonders if they did, why had he forgotten him.

The least important person the wizard had said..... So why Damian?

The rest of them, his family were firmly lodged in his brain. He could remember their every laugh, their every hug, tears, smiles, love. Good, bad, ugly. He remembered it all. Bruce with his confidence and safety, Cass with her warm hug and kisses. Dick with his laughter and comfort. Jason with his honesty and wild personality. Duke with his brilliance and gentleness. Alfred with his Alfredness.  

Remembering them wasn’t hard because the memories of them have never left him. So why Damian? Why him?

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

He wonders about it for the rest of the week. Especially when he hears the kid’s last name.

The little kid who skitters around the corners. The kid who doesn’t quite know how to laugh but his eyes would still manage to give him away every single time he found something funny.  

The little Robin who must have inherited the mantle after him and carried it with dignity and respect that must have made Tim’s heart bloom with pride.

Damian Wayne.

His little brother.

His only little brother.

And yet..... He didn’t remember him.

Least important.

Why?

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

Dick finds him one morning standing in front of the family portrait. The hall is empty except for the two of them, and when Dick comes to a stop next to him, neither speaks for a long while.

Tim is busy examining the expressions on everyone’s faces. And Dick, well, Tim wasn’t quite sure what he was doing but he leaves him to it. Dick would talk when he felt like it and not a second earlier.

“If you can’t remember him, how do you remember Duke?”

The words are no louder than a whisper and Tim can feel the unease coming off of his older brother in waves, but he elects not to comment on it. Instead he shrugs and focuses his gaze on the little face of the forgotten kid standing regally next to Bruce.

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know!”

Tim scoffs. “A wizard messed with my head Dick.”

His brother winces and Tim finds himself smiling at that. Damian and Dick were much alike. It was cute.  

“Did we get along?”

“What?”

Sighing, Tim leans forward to press a light finger against Damian’s painted face. “Did we get along? Me and Damian?” Scrutinizing the stern gaze and the almost hunched shoulders of the kid, Tim wonders what he must have been afraid of in this frozen moment. “I’ve always wanted a little brother you know.”

Dick remains quiet for an inordinate amount of time.  

His silence tells a full story, so when Dick finally musters up a casual. “Yes, but you were both just kids so you disagreed sometimes.” He hums in agreement and lets its slide.

Dick was lying to him but Tim did not elect to hold it against him.  

Pretty little lies could make even the best of men tempted in telling them and whatever dynamic he and Damian currently held most be infinitely better for Dick than their previous shared history.

Still, ‘strike one Dick,’ he thinks as he turns around to make his way down to the kitchen, he was hungry after all. ‘Lying doesn’t suit you big brother.’

“Wait.”

Foot frozen midair, Tim drags his eyes up from the stairs and back to the silent figure by the portrait. Dick looks so very still.

“Yeah?”

One hand coming up to run through his hair, his older brother gives him a sheepish smile; eyes gleaming suspiciously but smile as sincere as ever.

“You got along better at the end. Damian he.... you guys weren’t.... you didn’t like each other in the beginning,” Dick pauses and there is pain there, in those words. Bitter pain. Protective, angry.  

Something most have been stolen from him too Tim supposes. And it hurts more because Dick remembers. Whatever built relationship he and Damian had most have meant more to Dick than he was letting on.

Interesting.

“Thank you for telling me.” He leaves at that. Not without a second glance or thought.

Dick doesn’t follow him. Tim thinks that’s for the best.

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

“You hated him?”

Tim blinks in surprise. “Really?”

Kon nods. Eyes on the bright screen and tongue sticking out in concentration. “Yup.”

“Why?”

Kon curses loudly; leaning back and dragging the controller with him to avoid the upcoming wall. “I don’t know man,” he grits out. “You never got along and Dick used to pit you guys against each other or something. Choosing sides and shit.”

“Why?”

Shrugging, his best friend elects not to answer the question. “Beats me.”

Frowning in confusion, Tim nods slowly. “That’s super weird right? I mean, Dick wouldn’t do something like that. That’s not who he is. Or at least who I remember him to be.”

Kon shrugs again. “Never liked the guy so don’t ask me dude.”

Tim thinks about it for a second but then he too picks up his controller and Kon restarts the game. It really didn’t matter in the end, did it?

So what if he’d hated Damian in the beginning for some weird reason. The kid seemed pleasant enough last time he saw him so maybe he’d changed. Jason had managed it after all and well, Tim had frequently encountered and even befriended less than decent people before. So a little kid like Damian couldn’t be quite that bad right?

Maybe he needed to have a sit down and actually talk to him.

Talking to everyone else about how he was supposed to feel about Damian wasn’t really working after all. They most have had some form of relationship if the kid looked hurt when he didn’t remember him. It couldn’t have been all antagonistic, their relationship. And it couldn’t have been all that great either.

Maybe they’d reached a sort of an in between.  

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

Finding the time to talk to Damian proves to be difficult. Not only is work literally drowning him in stress and gives him less free time than a man working three jobs but turns out Damian was avoiding him.

It becomes all too obvious when he turns a corner one day and is met with the startled gaze of the kid who then; unable to avoid him any other way, actually turns around abruptly and sprints away.  

Tim is left standing there with an outreached hand and a mouth open for a yell that never leaves his lips.

After that, it becomes more and more difficult to pin the kid down. No matter what he does; waking up early, coming home an hour before his time, choosing to patrol with batman instead of alone, he can’t seem to get the kid to talk to him.

Somehow, that hurts.

Not in the normal sense of faint disappointment. Not in the way of feeling sad because a stranger elected to be rude to you, no. It was this gut punching pain that just wouldn’t go away.  

He didn’t even know him, but it hurt. It really really hurt and Tim didn’t like that one bit.  

Damian Wayne.

He needs to talk to him. Nothing was going to fix this otherwise. Even if he doesn’t remember him, he.....

“He’s hiding at my apartment ya know. That’s why you can’t find him.”

Tim practically jumps out of his skin. “What the hell Jay!”

His older brother grins. A savage sort of smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he barely seems to refrain from outright laughing at him.  

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t,” Jason snorts. “And if you wanna catch the little brat you better go now.” And with that he disappears behind the roofline, leaving Tim to glare after him.  

“Jerk.”

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

“Found you!”

This time it’s Damian’s turn to jump out of his skin and well, Tim would definitely be lying if he said he didn’t see why Jason loved doing it so much.

“What.... why are you here Drake?”

Landing soundlessly on the floor, Tim shuts the window behind him before shuffling over to where Damian is sitting, careful not to trigger another run. “I just want to talk.”

The little guy glares at him. A proper glare with death threats and all. Tim is mildly amused. “Won’t you give me five minutes? Please?”

Damian flinches. “I do not wish to speak with you Drake.” He sounds young and scared and..... Tim doesn’t quite understand how he could have ever hated this kid.

“I don’t remember you,” he says slowly, the words leaving his mouth easily enough, but somewhere deep down, at the very bottom of his soul he finds himself retching at the casualness with which he says them.

It doesn’t help that the kid can’t quite hide the brief flair of hurt that dances through his eyes.

Fuck.

“I already know that Drake,” he snaps, but Tim steps forward, waving his arms frantically. “I didn’t mean it like that ki—Damian!” Swallowing thickly, he tries to take a deep breath. “Look, I just..... I don’t remember you that’s true. But,” he carries on quickly preventing Damian from cutting him off. “I would like to remember you again and just...” here he gives a helpless shrug. “Wanna help me find the wizard who did this and make him change me back?”

Clearly that’s not what Damian had been expecting him to say, for his supposed little brother is standing on the other side of Jason’s living room, silently gaping at him.

Tim bites down on his tongue to stop himself from saying anything stupid that’ll ruin things. And then--

“Why?” Damian’s voice is angry and suspicious, but it’s also pained and confused and.... Tim just wants to hug him. No kid should ever look that forlorn, ever.

“I want my memories back and I want to remember you,” he answers instead, giving the kid his most winning smile.

“Why?”

Sighing, Tim drops the smile and gives the kid an almost helpless look, because..... what do you say to that? How can he possible explain the disparity between what he’s feeling and what he knows. That his mind might not recall the little kid in front of him, who looks so much like Bruce, but his heart does.  

How can he just....

“I think you’re worth remembering,” he settles for in the end. “You might not have been part of my most important memories, but you were still important to me and that’s why the spell worked.” This time when he tries to smile, it comes out rather sad, a bit empty, slightly heartbroken. “We were getting there, weren’t we? Becoming brothers?”

Damian looks away and that tells him everything.

“Let me remember you.” Tim says, an almost plea breaking through his faked bravado.

This time when Damian looks back at him, it’s not fear or hurt or pain he sees, but a quiet sense of determination. It’s shaky and still uncertain, but it eases something within Tim. “So what do you say?” He asks again just to make sure.

The kid nods. “Very well Drake. You have yourself a deal.”

Tim grins and Damian, well Damian smiles just the tiniest bit and for the first time in days, Tim feels as if something broken in his heart has finally been put back together again.

It’ll work out in the end. Tim wouldn’t let it end any other way.

The End

@punjabj-ninja @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @river9noble

Anyone else who wants to be tagged please let me know. Or untagged either way :)

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Here's the headcanon-ficlet-thing I promised! Actually, sorry, it's only HALF of my idea. This thing got MUCH longer than I intended and I've decided it would be easier to just chop this whole thing in two. If I ever send another headcanon, it'll either be much shorter than this or I just won't use anon. Anyways, the death of Dick's parents had just been so SUDDEN and I started thinking, "What if Dick had some separation anxiety when he was younger that just... Never really got resolved? His parents were gone, just like that, and Bruce literally risks his life every day. That couldn't have helped my made up conflict either, I imagine." Hope you enjoy! (1/13)

When Dick first arrived at the manor, he'd just been so GLOOMY. Even after Tony Zucco's arrest, he moped around the living spaces and never seemed happy with how spacious the manor's rooms were. A handful of times, Bruce and Alfred had caught him crying in the emptier wings by himself, but they had never really been sure what to do with the kid other than feel guilty. Sometimes (rarely), Dick would seek one of them out for a hug or SOME form of comfort, but it never seemed to be enough to truly make him feel better. It was no secret that Alfred and Bruce were not the most affectionate people in the world, and Dick had come from a very loving place. It was just another new thing to adjust to in his already new, unfamiliar life. Then Dick wanted to be Robin, full time, and neither Bruce nor Alfred could really say 'no.' Dick still wasn't happy- not for a while- but eventually, his mood started to improve. (2/13)

Maybe that was why no one initially found the boy's habit of waiting by the manor doors alarming. It was one of the places he visited more frequently, and Alfred originally assumed it was because he liked hanging on that specific entrance's chandelier more than the others. However, as the weeks passed, it became obvious that it was just a place Dick liked to hang out when he was waiting for Bruce to return from work or patrol. When it began nearing six thirty, the time Bruce's work hours ended, Dick would set up his homework or drawing paper on the floor and work just to the side of the doors as he waited for them to open. Sometimes he'd even hold a handstand or stretch for however long it took Bruce to come home that day. At first, Alfred didn't know what to make of it. But, watching the way Dick's face lit up every time Bruce knocked at the door, the old butler figured the small habit couldn't do any harm no matter how strange it was. He was just happy the boy wasn't still brooding. (3/13)

Bruce also noticed how Dick always seemed to be waiting for him after work, but ultimately didn't find anything concerning about the observation. Sure, it was a little strange to have such a large reminder that he was an actual guardian now, but he reasoned with himself that Dick would grow out of it after a certain point. He decided to just let the boy be and life carried on. Besides, he wasn't Dick's only person of support; Bruce had caught Dick watching Alfred work in the kitchen on a number of occasions with a concentrated look on his face. Without a doubt, the boy was finally starting to adapt to the manor's way of life. (In all honesty, Bruce had probably been too busy being relieved over the old butler's existence to judge whether or not any of his new ward's behaviors could be considered alarming.) (4/13)

As Dick grew more and more relaxed overtime, neither Bruce nor Alfred put much thought into his other developing habits. For instance, as Robin, Dick always made sure to check in with a quick "Are you still there, Batman?" over the comms everytime the line went quiet for more than ten minutes. Bruce would occasionally warn him not to call in when they were on stealth missions, but Dick never quite seemed comfortable with leaving the line COMPLETELY dead whenever they left each other's sight. On those missions, he'd sometimes blow softly into his comm unit, and Bruce would have to make some subtle noise back so as not to completely worry the kid. Dick even seemed to develop certain behaviors around charity events and galas; for example, he would always hug Bruce's pant leg at the beginning of the events and would only let go once he was made to socialize. Despite the fact that it soon became apparent the kid was far from shy, the habit always took place without fail, to Bruce's perplexed amusement. Maybe the kid just hated Gotham's elites? (5/13)

More and more little habits flew under the radar as everyone still seemed to be adjusting to the new lifestyle. Occasionally Bruce and Alfred would pick up on something seeming a little off, but at the same time, Dick finally looked happy. Really, a few weird displays of affection here and there were FAR from their concern so long as Dick's days of endless distraught were over. And so, once Dick finally- and TRULY- settled into the manor as his new home, a bunch of odd behaviors just seemed to be swept under the carpet and ignored. On the unavoidable nights where Bruce got injured in the field, there was no missing how the habits seemed to rise in intensity, but by then... They became the everyday normal and were never addressed. (6/13)

(The Justice League found Robin's behavior more bemusing than anything. Dick was still in the habit of obsessively checking the comms when Batman, on a rare occasion, asked for backup. "Check in, Batman?" "Still scaling the perimeter. We might not catch any activity tonight past a few petty thefts." "Alrighty. And, uh, Superman! Status update!" "Nothing going on up here either, Robin." "Okay!" Ten minutes passed and the boy's voice crackled back to life on the comms once more. "Is everyone still okay?" After that one particular patrol, Clark had sent Bruce a questioning look. "He's nine. Of course he's worried." Clark didn't push it- or anyone else for that matter.) (7/13)

It wasn't until Dick turned sixteen and started looking to be more independent that his behavior finally set off a few alarm bells. His check-ins had turned more snippy over the years when Bruce and him got into fights, but they never really stopped. The arms clinging to Bruce's pant legs at galas were instead replaced by a friendly hand on Bruce's shoulder, yet Dick's presence had never really left his side- only growing more flighty and uncertain as he got older. When Dick did his homework, by then in his last year or two of highschool, it was no longer on the floor but instead in the dining room closest to the manor's entrance- still started at around five or six just like when Dick first arrived at the manor, and still fit to Bruce's work schedule. It occurred to Alfred that a few of Dick's behaviorisms probably should have been checked out a while ago. (8/13)

"When you were Master Richard's age, you were barely home. It's normal for teenagers to want a bit of distance and alone time, but Master Bruce, he only stays after school for club activities. The rest of his time is either spent partoling around the city or helping YOU. I'm worried whether or not his behavior is healthy." Bruce had contimplated these words before giving his own thoughts. At the time, he and Dick's working relationship as Batman and Robin was becoming a bit more strained, but he still KNEW Dick. "I'm not sure, Alfred. He says he's happy with the friends he has, and he's always been relatively well behaved... Could it be that this is just routine for him?" Alfred disagreed and so the discussion continued. However, any plans they made to adress the situation were cut short when Dick got shot in the shoulder. (9/13)

Bruce tried not to feel guilty about firing Dick and then kicking him out of the manor. A little space would be good for the boy, right? For as long he could remember, Dick had always been just around the corner. It was safer this way. He ignored Alfred's angry, dissapointed gaze and Clark's furious demands to explain what the hell he'd been thinking. Batman didn't need a Robin, and Dick would be fine without Bruce. (Bruce would be fine without Dick.) Later, on patrol, there was a second where the comm crackled to life. Before anything could happen it got shut off again, and before Bruce knew it, Dick's check-ins were gone. Batman didn't need Robin. (10/13)

There was no missing Dick's sudden change. With the Titans, Dick's mother henning got turned up to an eleven. Dick was always somewhere in the tower helping someone, and no one could miss the way he was practicaly always asking if anyone needed anything. Missions and patrols ran mostly the same, but it was much more often that Dick could be found staying up late at night, going through evidence on cases he was working on. His friends did their best to be understanding, but there was no hiding the fact that Dick needed help. Real help. They urged him to talk about what was wrong, but even Dick seemed to be at a loss for what he was going through. "I mean, I got kicked out! What else is there to say?" He yelled one day. Roy tried to reason with him. "But there's MORE to it than-" "There isn't." "Dick, you've been acting off for months." "And I'll be FINE in a few more! I'm always fine. Stop worrying." (11/13)

Eventually, they did. After a few more missions, it was as if nothing ever happened. Dick worked as he normally would and he started running off to do his own things rather than hover around other people's projects. He still gave off a sense of brokeness but by then there wasn't much that anyone could do. There had been one week in particular, though, that things just seemed to... Shift. Dick had just discovered that Bruce adopted another kid in the newspapers and there were sightings of another Robin. For a second, he seemed furious, and they all remembered feeling VERY concerned for what the guy might do. For four days straight it was if he was too angry to talk. On the fifth day, Dick disappeared. He wasn't seen again until the next morning. "Dick, are you alright?" Something visibly settled in him and just like that, Dick was fine again. Still overbearing, but fine. (12/13)

Okay! That's all I have so far since I don't want to spam your inbox with any more text blocks for one idea. You probably noticed that this first part just goes over more HOW Dick behaved when he was younger. The second part to this will focus more on everyone realizing that Dick had some repressed trauma going on, and the consequences it's had on him for never adressing said trauma. (Also Bruce, you shouldn't have kicked your teenage son out of the house. That didn't help.) Some of Dick's coping mechanisms when it comes to dealing with Bruce will probably also be questioned, but with the time away from Bruce, don't worry- Dick will be more obviously independent. He knew he wasn't in the best place. I'll send you the second part whenever I get done with it, which shouldn't take too long. Thanks for being excited to read my head canon and ideas! (13/13)

hey babe. this is,,,,,,oh my god. i love it so much. well actually i hated it because it was full of angst and it made me feel emotions and AGH. but also i loved it and god i can’t wait for the next part. you have NO IDEA how much i need the next part.

also, can i just say? the fic portion itself (2-12) is 1.7k words long. with a little editing, this could be a full fledged fic you can post on ao3. you absolutely don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, that’s just an idea i’m throwing out there.

dick with separation anxiety sounds so so plausible, because that abrupt shift from living in a circus to wayne manor of all places must have been QUITE the shift. i really loved how you touched on all these different habits and quirks dick had growing up, and how those bled over into different relationships in his life. and i can’t wait to see how you resolve it.

and i have one more thing for you. this isn’t really the same idea but it’s got somewhat similar elements: i read a fic a while back about dick being touch starved. it seemed up your alley, and anyone else who liked reading this incredible drabble, i think you’ll enjoy reading it! touch starved by envysparkler.

[fyeahbatcat]

BatCat has been unnecessarily broken up AGAIN, in the comics. After 80 years, most Batman writers are still hesitant to allow Catwoman fully into the Batfamily, alongside Batman. As if there has to be a protective shield for Batman, in order to keep Catwoman away. What do you think it'll take, for DC to remove the BatCat time limit? Allowing for Bruce & Selina to have a more sustained relationship. Is it all on Tom King? Do you think Matt Reeves can make an impact, with his iteration of BatCat?

I really struggled with whether or not I should answer this, because there’s no way for me to be completely honest and give you the answer you were probably looking for. In any case my answer is below the cut, but be warned if you’re looking for words of comfort and solace they will not be found there. I’m just going to be very frank in a way that some may not like. 

DC Comics and Tom King told us exactly who they are on July 1, 2018. At this point I’m really not sure what else you were expecting. Yes; I fell for it at the time. I drank the Kool-Aid. But if I didn’t know better back then I sure as hell know better now. Believe what the evidence is telling you; not what you want to be true. What is evidence says it that they’ve become so morally and creatively bankrupt that they’ve resorted to outright lying to their fans and screwing over small businesses to sell comic books. 

This is going to sound very harsh but now is the time to start developing a sense of self preservation. DC Comics is not going to change. It doesn’t matter how passionate, supportive, loyal, patient, or forgiving you are. Those things have no value to them beyond their sales margins. There’s no sense in hoping that something is going to come along and inspire them to have a change of heart. DC Comics is a greedy corporation: they have no heart. 

What do I think it’ll take for DC to make a long-term commitment to the relationship? Complete financial desperation. I’m talking Marvel-Going-Bankrupt-Couldn’t-Afford-to-Buy-Paper-in-the-90s desperate. That or, to a much, much lesser degree, a complete overhaul in leadership, editorial, and organizational structure. Neither or which I think are going to happen. Not soon anyway. 

You have two options here. Number One: 

When you stop expecting anything from them and then you’ll stop being disappointed. I know people who are some how able to just roll with the punches, and take the good with the bad. If you want to just be able to enjoy reading comics as much as you can you’re going to have to become one of those people. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. There are bigger, far worse things happening in the world and if comics are your sense of calm in the storm and you’re able to manage your expectations, it’s worth it to continue reading. Just acknowledge that at this point we know what to expect from them and there’s no point in making a shocked Pikachu face every time they do exactly what they’ve been doing for the last 40 years. 

Your other option is very simple: it’s time to divest from DC Comics completely. DC Comics is not going to change and they’re not going to eventually give you what you if you just hold out long enough. I had to learn this lesson the hard way, and I’m telling you this so you can make an informed decision on whether or not you want to spend the next ten years of your life being constantly let down like I did. They have no incentive to change. With that said, let me introduce you to what I call “DC Comics’ Cycle of Deception.” 

This isn’t a fine science or anything but it usually looks a little something like this: 

1. The Tease AKA “Fan-Baiting” 

DC Comics/affiliates “announce” something that sounds new and exciting  or game-changing by way of interviews, solicitations, events, social media posts, etc. 

 Examples: 

“Catwoman will be the co-lead of Batman”

Lois Lane is the new Superwoman

Major character *death* 

2. The Hype 

DC begins to hype “new and exciting” event usually through increased variant covers, planned collector’s editions, tie-ins, merchandise. Sales/ pre-orders and fan engagement begin to increase. Creators engage in interviews with mainstream media outlets such as Entertainment Weekly   

Examples: 

Approx. 152,069 exclusive variant covers of Batman #50

Damian Wayne Requiem series

3. The Catch 

When the time comes it is revealed that instead of delivering whatever new and exciting story was promised, DC Comics’ pulls the rug from underneath of fans. This is commonly in the form of a bait and switch or use of shock value. 

Examples 

Batman #50 

Lois Lane dies in first issue of Superwoman 

Character is revived from death after a few issues

Story is written off as AU or dream sequence and will have no impact on future stories

4. The Backlash 

Fan express intense anger online. The backlash is sometimes reported in comic/pop culture news media.

5. The Decline 

In the months following the backlash DC returns to the status quo. Readers lose interest in current books. DC Comics’ pre-order sales begin to decline. They increasingly lose market shares and are pushed out of top 10 pre-ordered titles by Marvel.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat. 

The problem with fans is we keep getting caught up in steps one and two very easily. We (and this included me for a very long time) are constantly rewarding DC Comics by throwing our money at them every time they do the absolute bare minimum. All they have to do is trot out batcat every so often in the most non-committal way and we come running. Every. Single. Time. 

They have absolutely no incentive to change, because we as fans have made it exceedingly easy for them to leech off of us. We can’t keep doing the same thing over and over again and expect different results.

If you’re really tired of DC and their bullshit and you’re ready to divest you’re going to have to stop subsidizing their scams until they’re ready to make a commitment. Full stop. That means no rushing out to buy the latest issue of Batman and Catwoman kissing on a rooftop or beach or whatever. Stop buying variant covers completely (DC and Marvel [but DC in particular] uses variant covers to artificially inflate their sale numbers. Don’t play this game). Don’t buy their bullshit Wedding Album or 80 Years of Batman and Catwoman, or whatever else worthless “collectible” hardcover they publish. Put the onus on them to earn your money. If you really feel that you must keep up with what’s happening with the characters, pirate that shit. 

If and when a time ever comes that DC is ready to commit to change and commit to their stories (and actually commit; not just say they’re going to commit; make them prove it) then, and only then, should you consider giving them any more of your time, attention, or money. 

I don’t say this to be mean or harsh or judgey. I’m saying this because you asked me what I think and I’ve been where you are. I used to think that if I was loyal enough and patient enough that eventually I would be rewarded with this big emotional payout. It never happened. I don’t want you to end up where I am. Trust me; it’s not fun on this side of jaded. 

Maybe by sharing my brutal honesty about all that I’ve learned from my experiences it will save someone out there from years of constant frustration and heart-ache. At the very least you’ll know what you’re getting yourself into. 

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Where Hope Rises

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/UNGp71W by smallestfox Clark Kent had lived his whole life among humans, but Superman—the alien, the stranger in the cape—was born in fire and chaos, in humanity’s darkest corners. When he finally revealed himself, he made no attempt to be like them. Instead, he hovered inches above the ground, his eyes unblinking, his movements too precise, as though humanity were something he had studied rather than experienced. He did not try to hide his past, but neither did he elaborate on it. He offered only brief, disquieting glimpses, allowing people to come to their own conclusions. And it was through this unsettling honesty that the world came to know Superman—both as an alien and as one of their own. Words: 9896, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 2 of Alternate heroes, same hearts Fandoms: Superman - All Media Types, DCU Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Clark Kent, Martha Kent, Bruce Wayne, Lois Lane, James "Jimmy" Olsen, Jonathan Kent, Barry Allen, Dru-Zod, General Zod Relationships: Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent & Lois Lane, Clark Kent & Jonathan Kent & Martha Kent, Dru-Zod & Clark Kent, Barry Allen & Clark Kent Additional Tags: Inhuman Superman, Inhuman Clark Kent, Cryptid Batfamily (DCU), Secret Identity, False Identity, Clark Kent is Superman, Early Superman Days, Hope vs. Despair, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Protectiveness, Protective Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne Friendship, Alien Clark Kent, Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne Share a Brain Cell read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/UNGp71W