#S: batman beyond

[harveybwabbit92]

Belial: What are you suppose to be?

Bounty hunter: Your worst nightmare.

Belial, snorts: ...You have no idea what my nightmares are like.

[The Bounty hunter just sneers and is about to strike the ex-dark lord only to realize they realized they can't move...it was then the hunter noticed their body was becoming numb.]

Bounty Hunter, shivering: What is this...p-p-p-poison?

Belial: No, not poison. Something else...Haven't you noticed? that chill in the air? that's not nerves kid...

[The bounty hunter went to snap at him to shut up but found the words stuck in their throat as pathetic shuttering breath escaped their mouth in the form of vapor.]

???: Really? I go out for groceries and come home to this?

Belial: Oh, you know me R/n, I like to add little pizzazz to the marriage.

R/n, coming to face the hunter: I see that...*examines their guest*

R/n: Tiny thing aren't they? What are you 13-15? way too young to be legit...

Bounty hunter, glares: ...

Belial: That's explains why they were so sloppy, the last one managed to get within a hairs length of me before I noticed 'em, this one I knew was here before they even got in, but I was tending to Isla and didn't want her caught up in her old man's problems.

R/n: They must not have heard that you're off limits and under IGDF protection now due to my royal title and endangered status, otherwise they wouldn't tried this.

Unknown voice: You're correct on that ma'am.

{Both Belial and R/n jumped a bit at the unexpected voice and saw another bounty hunter sitting at kitchen bar helping himself to a drink, he was dressed similarly to the young hunter R/n had frozen in the living room; they assumed the two were related. After assuring the couple that he meant no harm the older hunter explained that he was just there to retrieve the youngling before they did something stupid. Once R/n and Belial were sure this wasn't trick the frost giant unfroze the kid who earned a good slap upside the head for the trouble they nearly caused before being dragged out of the house by their relative/teacher.]

[vertigoartgore]

Spider-Man 2099 meets Batman Beyond by artist Dan Mora (2015).

[mrt-s]

Batman Beyond fanart

[yukkue]

I draw men

[bluejaysandblackbats]

You're Just Like Quicksand

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Batman Beyond

Summary: Jason Todd is ready to go into semi-retirement after fifteen years working with troubled youth, but one case in particular forces him to confront the sins of his youth and painful memories from his past.

Chapters: 15/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Terry McGinnis, Warren McGinnis, Mary McGinnis, Matt McGinnis, Bruce Wayne, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): TBA

Additional Tags: Protective Jason Todd, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Retired Jason Todd, Multiple POV, Hurt/Comfort, Parent-Child Relationships, Canon Divergent AU, Angst, Mourning Jason Todd

Chapter Fifteen: Back of the Closet (Jason's POV)

Every day after I finished dropping Terry off, I spent a few minutes getting Avery-Marie cleaned up for dinner, and I checked on Andrew in his room. He’d taken up painting as a hobby, and he rarely came out of his room for anything. It was our normal. I knocked on the door frame, and Andrew looked up from his painting. ���Whatcha working on, Drewby?” I asked. 

“Mom’s garden,” Andrew answered. I sat beside him, rustling a hand through his hair, and I kissed his temple. It’d been two years, and I still couldn’t get past the joy I felt looking at his face every day. “How was your day? Is your friend’s son okay?” 

“Uh-huh… I’m worried Powers is after him because of something his father found out… I’m gonna have someone look into it,” I answered. Andrew looked at me. 

“Are you gonna put the helmet back on?” Andrew questioned. I shook my head. 

“I don’t want to. I wanna see if the authorities can suss this out without help… Did you go to therapy today?” I questioned. Andrew nodded. I never pushed him to talk about it, but he’d tell me sometimes if he was in the mood to talk. Andrew continued to work on his painting. 

“I talked about you today… And Mom… Why weren’t you and Mom getting along?” What happened?” Andrew asked. It was a long time coming, but I was surprised he finally asked me about it. 

“It was my fault… I didn’t pay enough attention to her, and I never listened to her pleas about making nice with your grandfather. She just wanted me to work through my trauma. And I wanted to close it off and pretend it didn’t matter,” I answered, “Your mother was the sweetest woman I ever met. She was a good wife and an amazing mother. We weren’t gonna divorce… I would’ve stayed with her forever if I could’ve.”

Andrew smiled. I’d been seeing a lot more of that recently. Avery-Marie finished taking her bath, and she knocked on the door. “Uncle Andy,” Avery-Marie whispered as she knocked on the door. “Uncle Andy, can I show you something?” 

Andrew stopped painting, handed me his brush, and he let Avery-Marie in. He never turned her away. Even on his bad days, he gave her his full attention, showering her with love and affection like he used to do with Maggie. He picked her up and kissed her cheek. “What is it, Sugar Plum?” Andrew asked. 

“I made you something,” Avery-Marie whispered. She always whispered to him. He set her down, and she ran to grab her backpack before returning with a handmade suncatcher. “Grandpa put his present in the car.” 

Andrew opened his window and taped it there. “Wow. Thank you so much, Avie. Every time it’s sunny, I’ll be able to open my curtains and see the rainbow. This is so nice,” Andrew grinned. 

“I’m gonna start dinner,” I whispered to excuse myself. Andrew would help Avery-Marie with her homework while I cooked. It always calmed my nerves. I liked dinnertime. It was the only time I had to clear my head and focus on a single task. I didn’t have to think about Abigail surrendering custody of Avery-Marie to me. I didn’t have to think about Michael being tangled up in the magic scene in Louisiana. I didn’t have to think about Andrew’s agoraphobia. When I cooked, it was just me and the stove. Today, I made burgers and french fries. It was Avery-Marie’s favorite. I brought our meal to Andrew’s bedroom, and we ate at the little table by his closet. Avery-Marie sat on my knee while we ate. Andrew took his pills with dinner. After dinner, I put a movie on for Avery-Marie, and Andrew took a nap beside her. 

**

When nighttime came, Andrew listened to the police scanner before bed. “That’s a code I haven’t heard in a while,” Andrew whispered. 

“What’s that, Drew?” I questioned. 

“The code for masked vigilantes. At Wayne Powers on the roof. Do you think it’s Grandpa?” Andrew asked. I shook my head. “Dad?”

“It’s Terry,” I answered. There was no doubt or hesitation in me when I said it. It had to be Terry, and I felt my blood run cold. Andrew frowned and nodded at me. 

I shook my head, feeling torn between my duty to Warren and his family, and my duty to my family. It felt like the same thing. Warren, Mary, Terry, and Matt felt like family… But Andrew grabbed my hand. “You stepped away because you didn’t want to hurt kids… Now you have the chance to save one. Go ahead, Dad,” Andrew reassured me, “Don’t be gone too long, or I’ll call Uncle Dick.”

“Uncle Dick is in California,” I whispered before kissing his forehead, “Comms are in my bedroom.” 

I left the room and got dressed in the last model of my costume. I hadn’t worn it since the kids were babies. They knew about it. That wasn’t a secret to them. 

I took my motorcycle through the old passageways to get there faster, and I could tell from the sound of the security guards that Terry was there already. I turned comms on, calling straight to the cave like old times, hoping someone was on the other line. “Anyone on the line?” I questioned. 

“Hood?” Bruce’s voice half-exclaimed on the other line. 

“What’s his location and why would you let him wear the—?” I heard a gunshot and a hissing noise before looking up to see Terry in the Batman suit tailing a plane. “He can’t do this on his own—.” 

“The kid is in the suit against my wishes… But he’s got it under control. He’s got a natural talent for this… Go home, Hood. Stepping in now would only jeopardize his safety. Unless you’d like to talk about—.” 

“Listen here, you sick old man. I’m only coming there, so I can chew you out for allowing this curse to take another kid,” I whispered. The drive to the cave felt like it took an eternity, but it was only a few minutes. Bruce sat in his chair, looking more alive than I’d seen him in years. He had a distinct twinkle in his eye. I hadn’t seen that in him since I was a little boy. 

“He said he’s heading straight home… I didn’t know he was one of your kids. If I did, I wouldn’t have hit him so hard when I caught him down here. What’s your opinion on his mental state?” Bruce asked. 

I couldn’t lie to him. “Terry craves adrenaline, and he’s smart… Intuitive and compassionate. He has a record and a past, but that’s not reflective of how strong his conscience is. Terry feels guilty for things that he’s done, and he has a strong desire to set things right even if they seem completely out of his control. He’s deeply empathetic… More than anyone I’ve ever seen, and I originally planned on partnering him up with a defense attorney before I took a step back from work two years ago… I’m not gonna be able to talk him out of this, am I? And I can’t tell his mother. That’d kill her,” I answered. 

“He reminds me of you… He’s got a smart mouth, but I think that comes with being a teenager,” Bruce replied. 

“You like him… You lonely old—. You want him back here, don’t you?” I questioned. 

“This city’s falling apart. I think he’s fresh, and I appreciate his raw talent. If you say no, I’ll respect that—.” 

“But he won’t. I know how this works,” I interrupted. I wanted to blame Bruce this time, but I knew it was as much his curse as mine.

[hotstreak2k3]

Batman Beyond premiered 25 years ago today on January 10, 1999.

[loislane-ana]

Batman Beyond - 1950's Super Panavision 70

[pinkopalina]

i am one hundred percent not fucking joking i think if joker didn't meet bruce he would literally be michael scott

[the-halloween-jack]

DC ✢ When he realised he loved you

Characters: Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian and Clark.

B R U C E⠀W A Y N E

The moment had been a quiet revelation, in a silence so profound it frightened him. The kind of silence that followed the first crack of thunder, one moment loud and undeniable, the next building with tension, waiting for it to strike again. 

You were sitting in the library of the manor, an arcane book resting open upon your lap, the fire crackling softly behind you. He had just returned from patrol — broken, bloodied, and defeated.

You looked up, eyes wide, alarmed at his state and asked, ‘Bruce?’ You had spoken as if he were not the Batman, not an emblem of vengeance and grit, but a man, just a man, whose hurt mattered.

Something in him gave out. Not in an ostentatious, cinematic collapse, but in the subtle yielding of defences too long held taut. His mind, a fortress of rationale and boundaries, fell silent.

She sees me, for all I am, it whispered. And yet she stays.

He had not believed in unconditional love since the alleyway. But in that moment, with the stench of blood from his suit and the leaden weight of the city upon his back, he saw love for what it was — not a sanctuary, but a quiet understanding, and a choosing. And she had chosen him.

It terrified him. Because now he had yet another thing to lose, to protect, something that was not abstract. It had a name. A voice. A laugh. It sat in his home and softened his world.

He had never been the same since.

D I C K⠀G R A Y S O N

It crept up on him — not a wave, but rather a tide. Quiet and constant and utterly irreversible.

You had fallen asleep in his bed, still holding a game controller, your brow furrowed even in your unconsciousness. He watched you in the blue glow of the screen and thought, God, I’d die for her.

And then came the laugh — low, bitter, surprised. Because of course he would. He was always ready to die for someone.

But this felt different. This was not a compulsion, a sense of duty. It was not about legacy or guilt. It was about you. And the way your presence grounded the part of him that had always been just suspended above the world, half-grieving, half-trying.

He remembered kissing your forehead before leaving for patrol that night. Slow. Lingering. The kind of kiss that was not about want, but reverence.

That was when he knew.

Love was not a thrill. It was a weight. And he had never wanted anything to anchor him, to tether him to this sphere, more than you.

The realisation made him smile. And then it made him ache.

J A S O N⠀T O D D

Jason felt it like the first rays of sun upon his back after a piercing winter, it flooded his system, warm and compelling. It struck him all of a sudden — new, unfamiliar, and… unwelcome. He did not want it. He had not asked for it.

You were brushing your teeth, half-asleep, wearing one of his old shirts, humming a song under your breath as though nothing was wrong in the world, as though it were not in a state of disrepair just beyond the window. And while watching you, he could believe it for a moment too.

Jason stood in the doorway, paralysed. Because he had seen too much tragedy, too much carnage. He could hardly believe that a quiet instant of peace, like this, could even exist, let alone in his reality.

His first instinct was to run. Not literally — he could never leave you. But to emotionally retreat, to steel himself for the moment this fleeting softness was stolen from him.

But you looked at him. Just looked — toothpaste foam and all — with a kind of amused concern, and asked, ‘You okay?’

After everything he had been through. He was not sure he had ever been less okay.

He loved you. He loved you with a passion that made him feel unworthy, as if he had tainted something holy.

A voice in him protested — said it was weakness. Said this would end in catastrophe. But he ignored it, just this once. He stepped forward and kissed your temple.

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Just tired.’ But he was not. This was a lie. His mind was reeling.

He did not sleep that night. He lay awake memorising your breathing.

T I M⠀D R A K E

It was a question you asked that did it. Something ordinary, like, ‘Did you eat today?’

Tim wanted to laugh because it was such a cliché, wasn’t it? But clichés exist because they are true. No one ever asked him that, not like you had, not like it genuinely mattered. 

Then you brought him a coffee, one of those orders so tailored it was essentially an identity. You did not need to ask what he wanted. You simply knew.

He blinked down at the cup, then at you, and suddenly the task he was completing meant nothing.

He felt the world tilt. Quietly. Like the axis of his orbit had shifted. And it had.

Love, to Tim, had always been a puzzle he did not have time to solve. A thing for normal people, with normal lives, for people who lacked the responsibility he had garnered.

But there it was — simple, unassuming and irreversible.

He did not tell you. Not for a long time.

But he began cataloguing what made you smile. The way your face changed after a laugh, crinkled and carefree. He noticed the way your eyes sparkled just a little brighter when you spoke of things that made you passionate, and how the corners of your lips turned up when you were lost in a quiet thought.

This love became his sustenance, it was the first time in years he feared forgetting something.

D A M I A N⠀W A Y N E (Aged up as Batman)

It had infuriated him. The sheer idiocy of it.

Love was chemical, juvenile, a distraction. Or so he had been taught. So he had believed.

And yet there he stood — across from you in the garden, where you were speaking to a stray dog as if it were royalty, and something in his chest pulled.

At first, he mistook it for contempt — annoyance at your softness in a moment where he was attempting to be serious. But then you looked up, grinned, and said, ‘I think she likes me.’

And the words caught in his throat. Not because he did not believe them, but because he liked you. Against every grain of his upbringing.

He wanted to scold you, retreat, build walls. But instead, he asked the cat’s name.

That was the beginning. The fracture.

He loved you. In an old, mythic sense. In the way poets spoke of their love — fierce, unyielding, as though it could bend the very fabric of time. 

And that it did, time slowed every time you entered his concentration.

He began to dream of futures — a concept once as foreign to him as mercy.

He has not told you. But he will. In his own time. For now, he will continue to relish in it, and continue in this alluring descent. 

C L A R K⠀K E N T

He did not realise. Not at first. Because what he felt for you was too immense, too intrinsic, to label with as small as a word as love.

It was not until you fell asleep in his arms, mumbling about a stressful day, completely unaware of the god you were held by, that it hit him.

You did not see him as Superman. You saw him as Clark Kent. You simply saw him. The man. His hope. His grief.

And he realised then — you are his tether.

He thought of Krypton. Of its loss. Of the gaping emptiness it had left as soon as he had learnt of it. And for the first time in years, he did not feel hollow. He felt… full. He realised, that the planet could never have been home to him like she was. 

You snored softly. He laughed. Then cried.

Love, he realised, was not loud. It was simply your hand over his heart. It was your laughter in the next room. It was your body next to his.

He had not fallen in love. He had found it, unexpected and irrevocable, and for all the power he had been bestowed, this force had left him helpless to resist.

And now he guards it with everything he is. Because you are not just his world.

You are his home.

If you're interested, I've since posted a follow-up called 'When he admitted he loved you' linked, here. Every comment and piece of advice is welcomed and appreciated <3

[harveybwabbit92]

Reiya, after rescuing her niece: When you die, it will be by my hand, and my hand alone.

Shio: ...thanks... I guess...

{Reiya then jumps away dodging Taiga's Strium Blaster.]

Taiga, jumping in front of Shio: Get away from her!

Shio: Taiga...

Reiya: Oh, how sweet you've got yourself a boyfriend.~

Taiga & Shio, flustered: It's not like that!

Reiya, chuckles: Right...*Escapes*

Taiga, about to fly after her: Hey!

Shio: Leave her.

Taiga: But...

Shio: She wants us to chase her so she'll find a way to separate us and pick us off one at a time. Just leave her for now.

Taiga: *sigh* okay.

[sirxlla]

hey so how do you think the batboys would deal with them sat in their chair reading a book or doing work, and their s/o just casually sits in their lap, curls themselves a bit into the boys so they’re not in the way, and reads their own book. And s/o’s just like “Don’t mind me. Just keep doing what you’re doing”?

Casually Sitting In Their Lap (Batboys)

Dick: Dick is one of those people that has to make sure everyone is well, and it tends to stress him out frequently; currently, it was Damian; Damian had had a rough time trying to acclimate to normal life outside the League. Dick is naturally a nurturing person, so he does his best to help Damian the best he can.

Dick texted Damian as fast and as quickly as his fingers would move. You noticed the tension in his shoulders and figured a thing would be good, but considering he was sitting, that's a bit harder, so,, therefore you climbed onto his lap and hugged him, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly just to remind him he's not alone. Dick put down the phone and wrapped his arms around your waist as he breathed in the smell of your hair.

"You know I love you, Honey? I love how much you do for me and everyone else. You're amazing." You asked as you ran your hands through his hair.

"You keep sayin' that I might be inclined to believe it." He quips trying to sound happier and less stressed than he is as he rubs your lower back.

"Good, I might as well say it about a million-gazillion times more." Smiling as you gently massage his neck to try to help ease his tension. You rest your head on his shoulder and allow him to go back to texting Damian. Right now having you close was a lifeline or a godsend.

Jason: Jason, for once, was relaxing but being across the room from him felt too far, and his gaming chair only seated one. You slyly and very carefully, as not to interrupt his online Call Of Duty game with Gar and Connor, slipped into his lap. He lifted his controller and looked around you before you slotted your body between his arms.

"Yeah, go right! He's on me!" He yelled through his headset; his mind hadn't even registered that you were in his lap.

"Yes! That's right! Get fucked assholes!" He yelled at the other players with pride in his voice before he looked down.

"Oh Hey, Babygirl." He smiled and kissed your forehead before going back to his game, it didn't phase him at all. He just kept playing his gun and would give you occasional kisses on the forehead and squeezes. His heart warmed at the feeling of you climbing up in his lap for no good reason, it felt nice that someone just wanted to be close to him just for the sake of being close. It felt nice to be wanted rather than just needed.

Bruce: Bruce, at this point, he is beyond used to you sitting in his lap whenever he is at the Batcomputer. You realized very quickly that begging him to come to bed was never gonna happen so you would climb into his lap with a blanket and snuggle yourself into him. He won't say anything, but it means the world to him that you wanna be around him.

"Evening, Darling." He'd say as he moved his arms to make space for you in his lap, but his eyes never leave the screen; they're red from the screen. You wrap the blanket around each other and press your warm body into his, and you both relax. He rubs your back as he takes in information. You don't know it, but just this small action in itself makes his job so much easier.

You just sit in his lap and it allows you both to spend time with eaxhother considering how little the both of you get time together.

You read your book or play on your iPad whilst you sit in his lap making sure to not be in the way. His hands gently and subconciously rubb your back or twirl your hair as he look up the information required for his next mission. Bruce might be busy due to how calculated and busy Batman is but times like these just made it all worth it. Your safety, security and happiness is all that could matter to him.

Tim: Tim was in the middle of researching new materials for his suit, he needed something more breatheable and didnt leave him drenched in sweat. Sometimes when he reads he gets tunnel vision so you'd often find yourself having to throw a pillow or stuffie at him or at times you'd have to literally wave your hand infront of his face to get his attention.

This time you decided now was a good time to get his attention in a more obvious way, you slipped into his lap and he immediately froze as his face turned beet red.

"I've been calling your name for like fifteen minutes, Baby."

"I- I- I- don't know what to do with my hands." He stammered out as his hands hovered over your body before he relaxed and put them on your hips.

"You know I don't have cooties right? I lost em when I got with you." You tease and poke fun at him a tiny bit.

"Cooties? Does that go along with the Cheese Touch from middle school?"

"Something like that I suppose." You smiled as you hugged him and he hugged you back.

"Sorry, sometimes I get lost in my iwn little world."

"You're my world." You said in a very truthful tone.

"Cheese." He quipped back and gave you a squeeze and a peck on the cheek.

Damian: You slipped into Damian's lap while he was doing something or the other and he immediately froze.

"Beloved, not right now." He said as he gently moved you off his lap before he promptly noticed your shoulders fall.

"I said not right now, that doesnt mean I don't want you up here. If I'm entirely honest I'd rather you be up here than me having to read these long ass annoying documents. You know what? This can wait for now, I've got a headache and I need a break. Come here."

You swiftly moved back into his lap like a cat that heard a treat container. Damian's arms wrapped around you as he breathed you in.

"You might be the only good thing in my life." He mumbled into your neck and squeezed you tigher which prompted you to squeeze back.

"I love you, Dami." You said to him to reassure him you'd be here as long as he'd have you. Damian isn't obvious about it but it's in the small things most people would thing are trivial that you find your answers most. Is he angry? Is he sad? Is he happy? Its all so glaringly obvious one you figure him out. Like a puzzle you cant unsolve.

Damian needs you even if he wont admit it upfront, you're the only thing right now thats keeping him from drowning in the vast ocean he's in. He's used to swimming on his own but now that he found a life raft, he'd never go back to before.

Masterlist

Send me prompts if you'd like

[lazycats-stuff]

Could you do "baby bat" where a killer tried to kill Bruce Wayne's youngest son when I saw that all the media and the family loved him but Titus was sleeping in his room and saw him and bit him to save the baby

Sure can. Oh Titus the good boy is coming to save the little baby.

Summary: Titus is a good boy who loves (Y/N). And is very protective.

Warnings: Breaking in, Titus protecting (Y/N), so there will be aggression from Titus, but in defense of (Y/N), everyone is protective

Bruce gently cradled (Y/N) in his arms, trying to soothe him so that he could go to sleep. (Y/N) was an easy baby and when fed he would be docile and just sleepy as hell. Bruce loved that about his boy. (Y/N) was the youngest one out of all the siblings and Bruce was taking care of him since his mother passed away.

Everyone stepped up to take care of (Y/N). Dick loved nothing more than to soothe (Y/N) to sleep. It was his favorite thing in the whole wide world. And feeding him was great too. Dick just loved his baby brother too much.

Jason would jump in too, he would simply talk to (Y/N) about stuff or simply played with his stuffed animals. Seeing (Y/N) giggle and move around excitedly. Jason more often than not fed him whenever necessary, since he wanted to be closer to his brother.

Tim, despite loving his brother to bits, was more often than not afraid to hold (Y/N). So, Tim showed love in another way. By buying baby things, such as toys, clothes and other necessities and making sure that the security system in place is at the top of its game.

And Damian?

He loved (Y/N) a lot, considering the fact that he was a baby and the fact that (Y/N) made Damian feel protective beyond belief, since he is the weakest one out of the family. And he also allowed Titus to spend time with the baby, under supervision of course. And Titus was a gentle giant when it came to (Y/N).

Despite his tail wagging all around whenever he was around (Y/N), he was always gentle with him, gently licking his hands and sniffing him. It must be the baby smell that everyone likes. He would often follow (Y/N) around and whoever was holding him. Whenever (Y/N) cried, Titus would drag someone by their sleeves.

And since (Y/N) came, at least one person was home and not on patrol, since someone needed to take care of (Y/N). Everyone rotated every day to make sure that (Y/N) was taken care of. It was something they all enjoyed and loved.

And the public went nuts for the youngest Wayne. Bruce made it clear that (Y/N)'s face won't be circulated over the Internet and majority of Gotham agreed. If he was approached by fans, they would ask for photos and make sure that (Y/N)'s face wasn't visible. And then Twitter, known as X, broke. The normally toxic social media app went aww over the stories of meeting Bruce and the little boy.

Of course, no one shared any photos of the boy. There have been attempts, but Bruce shut them down. Alongside his older sons of course. Bruce wasn't afraid to protect his son's privacy. You never know what type of people are lurking around, looking for photos of children. Bruce would be damned if he even gave them ammunition.

Not on his damn watch.

Of course, any enemies of his as Bruce Wayne and not Batman have found a new target within the family. And people with not so good intentions have set their sights on (Y/N). Bruce knew that very well and alongside Tim, made sure that the security system was working.

It was in the middle of the night when Titus woke up. He was sleeping in Damian's room, whoever, Damian was in the Batcave, while Bruce, Dick and Tim were patrolling the streets tonight. Damian and Jason were home to take care of (Y/N). Titus knew that, but there was a scent that he didn't recognize so he got up to investigate.

(Y/N)'s room was not far and the door was open. Titus listened carefully and he heard some noise and off he went to investigate. He knew how (Y/N) sounded, so the noise was weird. He stopped when he saw a man, dressed in all black, with a knife in his hand.

Titus wasted no time.

He ran to the man, biting into the hand that was holding the knife, with all of his might. The man yelled out from pain, waking (Y/N) up who started wailing. Titus was pulling him out of the room and Damian and Jason were running up the hall, with Jason tackling the man and Damian pulling Titus off. Titus did one hell of a job and Damian moved him to the room and took (Y/N) into his arms, trying to soothe him.

" I'm calling GCPD. " Jason punched the man out cold and took his phone out, already dialing 911. Damian gently soothed (Y/N), who after a few minutes calmed down. Damian checked on Titus, whose snout was covered with blood, but otherwise, wasn't harmed. His eyes were trained of (Y/N) and Damian was going to let Titus sniff him as soon as his snout is clean.

" The system went down. They hacked our system. "

Jason sighed at that. That was no small feat. Their house was Pentagon type of secure.

" Tim's going to blow a gasket once he hears that something happened to the system... They must have gotten in when it was rebooted... Bastards... " Jason muttered to himself, crossing his arms. " Is (Y/N) okay? Not hurt? "

" He's fine. Titus saved him... "

Jason nodded, patting Titus' head, telling him he's a good boy for doing it.

" Who's calling Bruce? " Jason asked and Damian sighed as he forgot about them all.

" You are. " Damian said and Jason scoffed as he looked for Bruce's contact in his phone. Yes, they had channels of their comms on their phones, just in case for emergencies.

Jason stepped out to talk to Bruce while Damian turned to his baby brother.

" No one will ever hurt you (Y/N). Titus and the rest of us will make sure of that. Absolutely no one will hurt you. I promise you that. "

Jason stepped back into the room. " They are all on the way, they'll beat GCPD too. So... A plan is in order. "

Once everyone came in and checked on (Y/N), they managed to agree on a story that would convince GCPD. And if Tim and Dick kicked the assassin a few times? GCPD will overlook it. Even the most corrupted police department wouldn't mind if a hitman who tried to kill a baby just died.

But Bruce wanted to know who hired this bastard to kill a literal baby. A baby who can't defend himself. Safe to say, Bruce held his son throughout the talking with the GCPD detectives. Titus was also near Bruce, not wanting to let (Y/N) out of his sights.

" If I were you mister Wayne, I would take the dog to the vet, just in case... " The detective pointed out, clearly seeing the blood on Titus.

" I don't worry about him. He isn't whining or anything and let me tell you, he is one dramatic dog. If his blanket is not the right way on the couch, he gets huffy and whines, " Bruce said and the detective chuckled.

" If you say so mister Wayne... Also, (Y/N) is adorable. Cherish these moments before they turn into toddlers. I can speak from experience. I have 2 boys myself... "

Bruce smiled politely and nodded. Bruce never had that stage with any of his kids, so he didn't know what he was in for.

" A full house? "

" You have no idea. That one will be full of energy, I can see already. And I can promise you, we'll catch the bastard who hired the scumbag. And it's not because of your status. That baby deserves to be safe and sound, " Detective said and Bruce nodded. The two were fathers and a mutual feeling of protection was brewing in both of them.

" Here's my contact info. " The detective tucked to Jason since Bruce's hands were full. " Any questions you might have, feel free to call me, " The detective finished up and Bruce nodded, thanking him.

" No problems mister Wayne. The forensics will stay around for a bit longer to collect the evidence, you know, around the window and the crib. The man is on the way to Gotham general, since the good boy over here did one hell of a job of protecting (Y/N). Once he's patched up, he's going to lock up and await trail, " The detective explained and Bruce nodded, pretending he didn't know anything about how those things went.

" Alright, I need to get going, but anything you might need to ask mister Wayne, please call. "

" Of course, thank you. "

[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Prompt #6

Phantom is sitting at the Batcomputer, kicking his legs back and forth. With the seat last set for Batman's height, his feet barely skim the ground. He's propped his head up with one hand, examining something he is holding between his thumb and forefinger in the other.

He is very casual for someone who has never been told the location of the Batcave.

"Phantom," Batman grunts. Phantom doesn't glance his way, likely having heard the Batmobile pulling in.

"Hi Bruce," he says. "I had a nightmare last night."

It's important to note that The Justice League does not know Phantom's true age, although there are several theories:

Theory One: he is a ghost dating back to several thousand BCE. The proof of this is sparse but present, through written record of beings with white hair and green eyes and uncanny likenesses found in artifacts proven to be authentic. Could these truly be Phantom? Yes. However, there is

Theory Two: he is a teenager, as his visual presence suggests. This could be true even if his existence is thousands of years old, as his mentality might not have advanced beyond that of a child aged fourteen to sixteen when they died. This is supported by his general behavior and advanced knowledge of memes. The few times he and Red Robin have interacted, Bruce did not understand a word of it without extensive googling. But worse, of course, there is

Theory Three: Phantom is the age of his first recorded appearance in modern times, only a few years ago. Phantom's recorded appearances in the past were sparse compared to his consistent existence in this century, which could hint at a timestream accident similar to Bruce's own, if they are real. And ultimately, this would not be the first time a two year old presented as a teenager in form.

Two out of three options propose Phantom is a child, and so Batman's tone is gentle when he says,

"Did you?"

"Yeah," Phantom says, words almost a sigh. Whatever is in his hand catches in the lamp light, shining green.

It's kryptonite. Phantom is holding a shard of kryptonite.

"Sorry." Phantom twirls his chair around to face Bruce. He holds the shard out in his palm. "I called you Bruce, didn't I? I know you hadn't told me yet."

"That's okay," Bruce says. He takes the shard calmly, his suit's layered biometrics disguising the fact his heart is racing. He recognizes this chunk from his stores, kept in the secure, deepest, impenetrable section of the cave coded to his DNA alone.

He's been aware Phantom's powers include invisibility and intangibility, but the ghost has been benevolent, honorable, and heroic since introduced and he had allowed his guard to slip. All it would've taken is being tailed one time, and now he must rely on that benevolence.

"And I'm sorry about that," Phantom says, nodding at the belt Batman has tucked the kryptonite inside. It will do nothing to stop Phantom should he decide to pluck it away again, but kept out of sight in a lead-lined pouch still feels safer than out in the open.

"I needed to make a point." Phantom says. The words are threatening but his tone is not.

"Oh?" Bruce asks, wary nonetheless.

"I'm really strong," Phantom says. "I can walk through walls. I can disappear. I can fly. I can blast and freeze stuff. I don't need to breathe. Traditional weapons don't really work on me."

"I can duplicate," a voice says from behind Bruce. He whirls around, batarang in hand, to see another Phantom rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "That duplicate will have all the same powers," the doppelganger says, apologetically. He floats back over to the Phantom sitting on the chair and the two merge.

"I have bad powers too, ones I don't like to use. I can scream at things until they fall apart, even buildings. I can...I can possess people, and make them do things," he admits, unable to look Batman in the eye. "It's not that all ghosts are like this, pretty much all of them aren't, it's just that I'm one of the stronger ones, and I'm only going to get stronger, and the stronger I get, the more powers I might get, and the less weapons even made especially to fight ghosts will work on me."

None of this is phrased as a threat, but rather a confession.

"Why are you telling me this?" Batman asks.

"I had a nightmare," Phantom repeats weakly. He reaches under the computer table and pulls out a purple JanSport backpack, cotton dirty and frayed with use. He unzips the front pocket and pulls out a small plastic baggy. He offers the baggy to Batman, his hand shaking.

Batman takes the baggy, examining the contents. Inside are six tiny little dots. They look like poppy seeds, but held up to the light are a deep purple in color.

"Phantom, what are these?"

"Hemo Prunus," Danny says, eyes stuck on the baggy. He's paler than usual. "Colloquially: blood blossoms. At the time they were grown it was believed they required drops of blood to grow, but a friend of mine who likes plants thinks it's more likely they actually just like a higher quantity of iron in their soil. You know, truths found in witch's tales and stuff like that. I don't know much about their care beyond that but I do know they were grown previously in Salem in the late 1600s, early 1700s during their summer seasons with some amount of success so perhaps you can mimic that environment and go from there. From what I've gathered they're incredibly difficult to grow, but I figure if anyone can do it it's you."

"I'm not exactly the gardening type," Batman says dryly.

Phantom laughs faintly. He looks like he's about to pass out, which should be impossible and is not the correct reaction to gifting someone a rare piece of flora.

"Phantom," Batman says again, slowly. "What are these?"

"They're my kryptonite."

Bruce closes his fist over the bag immediately, taking several steps back to put distance between himself and Phantom. "Are you alright?" he asks sharply.

"I'm fine," Phantom says, waving a hand. "As seeds they just sting a little, like nettles."

That's not the reaction of someone being lightly stung, Bruce thinks. Phantom looks like he needs the chair he's sitting in just to stay upright.

Then the rest of his words click together.

"You're giving me these," Bruce says.

"Yes," Phantom says. "For safekeeping."

"To grow."

Phantom's smile fades. "For safekeeping," he says, looking at Bruce's belt. Where he has stored the kryptonite.

The enormity of what Phantom is entrusting him with hits Bruce like a ton of bricks, and he finally realizes that Phantom is not sick but terrified. He is quietly, deeply, terrified. Bruce also realizes that a reaction like that is not born out of fear of the unknown but is the reaction of someone who has felt the sting of the bee and felt their throat close up. At some point Phantom has felt the blood blossom flower, and the sheer memory of it is enough to make the ghost go almost catatonic with terror.

And he has still handed over the one weapon that can hurt him to the Batman, and told him all he knows on how to make more.

I had a nightmare.

"Is this all of it?" Bruce asks, the question coming out brusquer than intended. Phantom blinks.

"Yes, I'm sorry, that's all I could--yes that's all," he stammers.

Bruce shakes his head. "I mean, does anyone else have access to it? Is anyone else growing this that we should be aware of?"

Phantom can't mask a sudden shudder, his reactions always woefully transparent (pun not intended). "No, that's the last of it. No. No. I don't think," his eyes grow wider, "I don't think so," he whispers, to himself, an attempt at comfort.

Way to go, Bruce, a familiar voice whispers, you just scared the kid harder. Bruce drops the packet on a table beside him and strides forward to put a firm hand on Phantom's shoulder.

"I'll make sure of it," he says. He'll pull Kal in and together they'll make sure, the same way they raided every GiW base across the United States four months prior. Phantom looks up at him the same way he did then, with complete and utter trust.

"Thank you," he says quietly. "But if you do...if you do find any more, promise me you won't destroy it. Promise me you'll keep it, the same way you keep the kryptonite. Please, Bruce."

He's not just asking him to keep it. Another weight finds its place, settling on the Bat's shoulders like the cape he wears. Another contingency for a hero he fears will one day be a dear friend.

"I promise, Phantom."

"Danny," Phantom says, "My name is Danny. A name for a name, right?"

"Danny," Bruce says, heart growing ever heavier. "I promise."

[bluejaysandblackbats]

You're Just Like Quicksand

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Batman Beyond

Summary: Jason Todd is ready to go into semi-retirement after fifteen years working with troubled youth, but one case in particular forces him to confront the sins of his youth and painful memories from his past.

Chapters: 14/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Terry McGinnis, Warren McGinnis, Mary McGinnis, Matt McGinnis, Bruce Wayne, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): TBA

Additional Tags: Protective Jason Todd, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Retired Jason Todd, Multiple POV, Hurt/Comfort, Parent-Child Relationships, Canon Divergent AU, Angst, Mourning Jason Todd

Chapter Fourteen: Fathers and Sons (Terry McGinnis' POV)

I hadn’t heard from Jason in over two years, but he was at the funeral. I thought it was strange. I wondered who invited him. I wondered why he stood so far away. Mom couldn’t move. She couldn’t process any of it. So, we stood beside her as everyone paid their respects and went home. They could go home. I couldn’t. I could never go home again. I had to officially move in with Mom once they let me into the crime scene that was once my dad’s apartment. Everyone left, and I stayed behind. Mom took Matt home, and Jason finally approached. I couldn’t pretend. I resented him for letting me go without a reason. So, I let him have it. I couldn’t remember what I said, but I know it was harsh. He stood there, tall and strong with sadness in his eyes. Jason didn’t move. He didn’t flinch. I tore into him until I didn’t have any other words to describe how I felt. And without missing a beat, he said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you… But I knew you were good. I wouldn’t have done that if I didn’t think you could handle it… But I missed it. Every moment.”

I swallowed hard. My stomach was in knots. It only took a few little sentences for me to forgive him. I knew he’d understand my grief. My anger. My emptiness. “What are you doing here?” I questioned, my voice breaking as I asked him. 

“I promised Mary that I’d look after you while you got your things. I also promised her that I’d try to get you to eat. We could get whatever you want,” Jason whispered, “We’ll go eat… And then we’ll get your stuff. I promise.” 

“Why? Why now?” I asked. 

“Because I lost my parents as a kid. And in retrospect, I think I needed someone who could show me how to process grief without being pacified with emotionally addictive coping mechanisms. Are you alright with me coming around for a little while?” Jason questioned. I wanted to say no. I wanted to pretend I didn’t need him, but I couldn’t lie. I nodded. 

** 

After Jason took me to eat, we went to the apartment. Jason came with me, and he stood by quietly while I packed everything that I could into a box. Everything I owned fit into one big box. It made me feel sick and empty in my chest. I looked up at Jason, almost pleading for him to feel it for me. Feel my pain.  

“One of the kids in my program took my family from me. He got too attached… And he—. He developed a jealous streak. He thought I passed his case on because of my children… And he took them from me. I was afraid that those feelings would keep me from helping you… And I didn’t want to make the same mistake of passing your case onto someone else, so I stepped away. Besides, you were so independent. You didn’t need me as much. You and Warren were doing alright. But, he—. He called me. He said something changed a few months ago. What was it?” Jason questioned. The confession seemed out of place. 

“It wasn’t like that. I get into with some guy at school sometimes, but it’s—. Dad was swamped at work. He didn’t have the time to talk about it anymore… So, I stopped explaining. I’m not messing around with gangs or stealing anymore. I swear,” I promised him. He nodded. “I would’ve understood if you told me what happened to your kids. I’m sorry, Jason.”

“It’s—. Thank you… I probably should’ve explained, but I—. It’s a lot to dredge up,” Jason replied, “Which is why I want you to talk about this on your own time. I’ll be available whenever you feel like talking about him. I spent a lot of time talking to Warren. We became friends. He was kind to me.”

“What did you have in common with my dad?” I questioned. 

Jason smiled as tears slid down his cheeks. “He had a normal life… Normal problems… But this—.”

“Feels wrong… I don’t think Dad would’ve opened the door for those twips,” I interrupted him.

Jason nodded as he looked around. He must’ve seen something because his jaw tightened. “Terry, after today… don’t come back here. Something’s not right. This isn’t—. If you see something weird, I want you to call me,” Jason whispered. He stepped into the doorway, and I could tell there was something wrong in his eyes. A switch flipped, and he scanned over everything. 

“What is it?” I questioned. Jason shook his head as he took me to his car. His face went dark, and he looked around. 

“I don’t know… I just feel strange about all of this, Terry. Get in the car, and I’ll take you to Mary’s. It’s getting dark,” Jason whispered. He shut the door and got in the driver’s seat. I looked at Jason. 

“Does this mean I’m back in the program?” I asked. I felt stupid as soon as I asked it. 

“Is that what you want?” Jason questioned. 

He wanted me to say it. Not for his ego. I don’t think he had one, but it was all for me. He wanted to know what I wanted. And he needed me to ask him. I started hyperventilating, and Jason tapped the dashboard between us until I calmed down. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do without my dad,” I mumbled.

“And I can’t fill that space, but I can create a space for you to cope if you’ll let me help you,” Jason answered. 

We didn’t say anything else for the whole ride home, and he walked me up to the door and said goodbye to my mom and Matt before leaving. And somewhere in between me entering my room and seeing Matt, I dropped my dad’s picture and found the disc. And that’s when I decided to get involved with Bruce Wayne. I didn’t know much about the old man, and I didn’t really care, but I needed his help. I knew I couldn’t go to Jason because he’d tell me not to get involved. He would’ve taken over, and I wanted my own answers… and it was Mr. Wayne’s company. 

**

Jason picked me up from school after Powers’ people accosted me. He pinched the bridge of his nose, before sighing. Avery-Marie sat in the back seat, kicking her feet. She had noise-canceling headphones on. “Are you okay?” Jason asked.

“I’m alright… Is that Avery-Marie? She’s so big now,” I whispered. 

“Yeah… She’s in kindergarten… Why is Powers’ muscle hassling you?” Jason questioned. 

I shook my head like I didn’t know, and he accepted it. He knew I was lying, but he didn’t push for an answer. “Powerphones off,” Jason commanded, and Avery-Marie looked up. 

“Grandpa, can I have a cookie in the car?” Avery-Marie asked. 

“Sure, Avie. Did you see Terry in the front seat?” Jason questioned.

“Hi, Terry! Do you want a cookie too?” Avery-Marie offered. Her blonde curls reached past her shoulders, and she wore glitter star stickers on her face. “Grandpa, is Terry coming over to play?” 

Jason tapped the steering wheel as he started driving. “Not today, Sweetpea… Terry’s busy.” Avery-Marie pouted as she handed me a cookie.

“Maybe some other time… ‘Kay, Avery-Marie?” I offered. 

Jason nodded. “If he’s free, maybe he can babysit sometimes,” Jason suggested. He wanted me at the office. I knew what that meant. He wasn’t ready to let the situation with Powers go. Not completely anyway.

[asha-mage]

🌶️

The MCU's Spiderman is not a poor execution of Peter Parker's character concept. He's not even poor execution of Miles Morales's character concept.

He is a poor execution of Terry McGinnis's character concept.

Peter Parker and Miles Morales both have so many fundamental pieces to their characters that are just missing for the MCU's Spiderman. Familiar names are floating around him- Aunt May, Mary Jane, Ganke Lee- but the fundamental ideas that make up Peter or Miles arcs just are not there. Themes like Miles's family expectations, Peter's constant money struggles, and the balancing act of doing good vs trying to live your own life are all absent. Even the idea of power and responsibility isn't properly introduced until the THIRD MOVIE when that really should been the central theme from the beginning.

Rather the MCU Spiderman has way more parallels with Terry McGinnis. Both are young hot shot teenagers who end up being taken under the wing of established and experienced hero who is on their way out. Both have complex relationships with their mentor which in a lot of ways serves as the driving force of their character arcs. Both gain high tech suits which enable their heroism. Both are viewed (or at least supposed to be viewed in MCU Peter's case) as heirs to the legacy of this hero.

It falls apart when you get into how they are different. While Uncle Ben is implied to have existed and be dead by the time MCU Peter is introduced in Civil War it's never actually confirmed and never properly comes up. Meanwhile the death of Terry's father is essentially the inciting incident of Batman Beyond: it's what motivates and drives Terry and the murder and it's fallout are the main focus of the first two episodes of Batman Beyond.

What's more MCU Peter's relationship to Tony is grounded in the fact that Tony just shows up one day and essentially taps him to join the Avengers. Bruce by contrast initially tosses Terry out on his ear, and when Terry turns up seeking justice for his father Bruce can't offer him anything but 'go ask the cops for help', and when that goes exactly as poorly as Terry said it would, Terry breaks into the manor steals the Batsuit and goes to stop Powers himself. Terry has active agency in his own choice to be a hero, which helps define his relationship with Bruce and to heroism. While MCU Peter was doing his own superheroics prior to Tony showing up in Civil War (not that he ever does much of that in future movies) his relationship to Tony is defined by Peter's dependence on him and his quest for Tony(/the Avengers)'s approval. And because they don't even bother name drop Uncle Ben or flashback to him, we're left with the impression that the main thing driving MCU Peter is that quest for approval. His motivations are never more complexly explored, and we don't even really see him just running around Queens stopping muggings or car crashes or anything that hints he enjoys or feels the need to actually help people.

And I think that gets into the final and most important difference between the two. Gotham not only needs Batman, it visibly and obviously and terribly needs Batman. Batman Beyond leans into this because decades without a Batman have left Gotham a cyperbunk dystopian hellscape. The city needs someone to stand up to the darkness, to be a symbol of hope, to be aspirational. Terry taking up that mantel means fighting supervillains, yes- but mostly it means doing what the original Batman did. Solving murders, stopping muggings, rescuing people from burning buildings or fighting off street gangs like the Jokerz.

But even in the earliest MCU movies, New York only needs superheroes when the current world ending threat shows up. Otherwise the city is all bright shinny clean streets filled with haplessly content citizens. This is the only reason that Vision's position of 'Our very strength invites challenge' in Civil War makes any sense- because the only purpose of these Superheroes is usually to fight a threat they where somehow responsible for creating. And this problem hits 'friendly neighborhood Spiderman' the hardest because he only has a responsibility to use his great power to solve problems, if their are problems in need of solving. Most of Peter Parker's (and Miles Morales's, Gwen Stacy's, or any other Spiderperson's) day is not fighting alien armies or netherworld gods. It's stopping break ins, rescuing people from car crashes, or dealing with other small scale local threats, that none the less benefit from someone with his abilities to make them better. Either New York in the MCU is an ideal utopian city where the police have everything handled apparently (which ha!) or Peter is apparently not interested in stopping bad things from happening. He spends so much of the first movie basically begging Tony to give him superhero things to do, not realizing that he could go outside and find people that need help on his own.

In conclusion MCU Peter Parker isn't 'regular Peter Parker but not an underdog', or even 'Miles Morales but white'. He's 'Terry McGinnis but without any agency in his own heroism'.

[casscainmainly]

What I find interesting about Cass and ballet in Tynion's Detective Comics (2016) is not so much the communication or artistic expression aspect, but what it means for Cass' relationships to women.

From the beginning, Cass + ballet is heavily tied to her relationships with women. In Batman & Robin: Eternal #7, she first watches the ballet with Harper Row:

Ballet isn't just about "understand[ing] everything" (as Harper says), but about the physical and emotional connection Cass forges with Harper in this moment. The way their hands grasp onto each other symbolises the potential for ballet to form women-to-women bonds. Since this is N52, Cass' relationships with Babs and Steph have been sadly obliterated, so this is her very first connection to another woman.

Then, in Detective Comics #950, we meet Christine Montclair:

Christine is a ballerina who has been "handed" a key to the main stage by "the late Elaine Torsky," and who hopes to hand "that key to another young girl." Ballet becomes linked with a feminine legacy, one tied to "know[ing] exactly who she wants to become." The ideas of a female legacy and coming into one's identity strongly echo Cass' relationship to the Batgirl mantle, and the importance of female relationships to Cass' sense of self.

Ballet is, also, a storytelling medium - Tynion emphasises the importance of storytelling through #955's scene between Christine and Cass, where Christine reads her a story. She mentions that her mom used to read this to her. This is clearly an allusion to Shiva (since this arc is about Shiva), but more broadly this scene points to matrilineal connection through stories, something that Babs and Cass actually do in DC First: Batgirl/Joker. In that issue, Babs tells the story of her first encounter with Joker, which inspires Cass to do the same. Cass' mimicry - something she also does with Christine, copying her movements in the ballet school - showcase her desire for connection with other women.

(The book is also written by Carolyn Wu-San, another connection between women, stories, and family.)

And it's this connection to women that allows Cass to say her name, harkening back to Babs giving her her name in NML. This scene is also funny to me because Tynion created Orphan but he's aware the name is not something Cass actually likes - if anything, 'Orphan' feels like a punishment Cass imposed upon herself (especially in this arc, which doesn't reference that Orphan came from her dad).

It's just interesting that ballet and storytelling are mediums in which Cass finds an expression of herself, but it's not because of the communicative aspect - she never actually performs in front of anyone. Instead, it's the feminine community and legacy that allows Cass to discover herself beyond Orphan.

All this to say it's a shame Cass couldn't be Batgirl here because I really like the parallel of female legacy between ballet and Batgirl, but it gets lost without acknowledging Batgirl (2000) and DC First: Batgirl/Joker. But conceptually, Cass and ballet is about so much more than her 'communicating' via dance, and the role women and stories play in her love for ballet should be acknowledged more.