#The Original Boy Wonder (Dick Grayson)

[ftm-dick-grayson]

[ID: the "you can excuse racism?" meme format. The first woman is labeled "Duke" and the words have been edited to say "I can excuse eight heads in a duffel bag but I draw the line at littering." The second woman is labeled "Nightwing" and the words have been edited to say "you can excuse eight heads in a duffel bag??" End ID]

[xliallix]

Been a while since I have posted here’s disguise Robin for you 😎😎

[farshootergotme]

The dialogue is killing me because why does Batman sounds like the creepiest kidnapper??

Detective Comics #38 (1940)

"But you can't go to the police—come with me! And I'll tell you why."/"I'm going to hide you in my home for a while."

[momachan]

Teen Titans. Secret Origins (1986-1990). Annual #3. "Pieces Of The Puzzle."

[hardcore-lonewolf]

New ship name change for Dick X Oc for mine...

Wonderluck!

[mattzerella-sticks]

The Teen Titans movie needs to be either -

Raven assembling the Titans to defeat Trigon

OR

Starfire escaping the Psions

And the line-up needs to be the New Teen Titans plus one or two extra heroes not in the original ensemble.

I'm talking Dick Grayson, Donna Troy, Wally West, Victor Stone, Garfield Logan, Koriand'r, Rachel Roth

AND

Let's add Karen Beecher/Bumblebee and - possibly - Jericho.

It's no secret James Gunn loves 80s pop culture and it influences his work. The above team WERE the Titans of the 80s.

And we can update it by having Dick, Donna, and Wally be young adults, college age or freshly out of college, who USED to be part of the Teen Titans until it fell apart, and even the first five to ten minutes can be a flashback of the first teen titans versus their first villain, Mister Twister, that way we get the Roy and Garth shout out, before it skips ahead and shows them living normal lives. Meanwhile you have Gar, Vic, Karen, Rachel, and Kory all converging on the three to face whatever villain they choose to make the first big bad. Whoever doesn't get picked for the first film is the sequel villain. Meanwhile the third movie absolutely has to be the Judas Contract.

[thebestcomicbookpanels]

Somebody hand-colored the original art to George Pérez and Pablo Marcos New Teen Titans #6

[kingeorgey]

i keep you clean (you surrounded me)

Jason Todd x OFC/Reader, 4.6k words

based on the Jason Todd fanfictions on ao3, written by Minniears and Janaswow . rosalie is a combination of the main characters in those books, and the oneshot draws inspiration from both fics.

please rb, like, and feel free to message me or leave asks / drabble requests! i highly reccommend checking out my ao3, just look at my other posts or search up my username on there. i just wanted ot test what happens if i post the full fic on here instead of linking to my ao3.

enjoy!!! :-)

The most stressful part of all this is making the calls to fix the sunroof. Really. And, honestly, truly, seriously, not even that is so stressful, since that task is reduced to an email for Rosalie. Admittedly, a hooded vigilante breaking into your property for the third (fourth? fifth?) night in the last two weeks was not an ideal situation for anyone but the window repair company, and at least the cost wasn’t coming out of her pocket.

What, then, had Rosalie failed to consider, in her attempt to bend over backwards making sure the vigilante knew that he was of no inconvenience to her? The (decidedly less ideal) consequences of the recurring vandalism- 

His enemies catching on.

It had all happened in a blur. Between the fight or flight instinct, it was true that she had always drifted towards the lesser-known, and less convenient, ‘freeze’ instinct. The steely chill of a blade against her neck, a cacophony of gunshots and knife-on-knife scraping, and someone calling out her name had all fallen on ears that were as good as deaf at the moment. 

It wasn’t that she was ignorant to the dire situation she was in, and the unfathomable level of danger surrounding her. Rosalie was an intelligent person, despite society’s eternal crusade to muddle kindness with weakness. She had managed just fine in Gotham on her own, and had not gotten involved with the many gangs and vigilantes of the city she called home. However, as life in Gotham went, the time had apparently arrived for her rite-of-passage gang involvement.

Everything in Rosalie’s line of sight became one massive blur of motion, shaken only when she was tackled. Instinctually, she awaited the impact that was to come- expecting the cement of the greenhouse, maybe a flower pot if they had been so unlucky. The result never came, however, and when she began to come back to reality she was confronted with the warmth of the arms that had her wrapped in a death grip, and radiated off of the jacketed chest that shielded her.

The scene Rosalie was enveloped in finally began to come into focus. Beaten, bloodied gang members were tied up to the feet of various display tables, droplets of their sweat and tears joining their puddles of blood and broken glass. It was silent, though, save for the voice of her protector coming into focus.

“I got you,” The voice rushedly repeated, the baritone bringing her further into the present moment. That was when reality finally set in, when she was no longer in a frozen stupor, no longer chasing the present second- 

and, she crumbled.

In one extended motion, Rosalie was pushing herself from the Red Hood’s embrace with trembling arms and legs, bounding out of the shop’s front door. A series of choked gasps (that she hardly registered as being her own) quickly transitioned into a fit of sobs- which, for someone of her disposition, meant more noiseless, strangled sounds. 

With legs that felt as weak as gelatin below her, she all but tripped out of the door and onto the pavement in front of the shop, a quivering arm pressed up against the brick facade. Droplets of her own blood soiled the roughened sidewalk, her gaze transfixing itself on each crimson bead instead of the door behind her slamming open, then closed. No frenzy follows- just the scraping of boots as the Red Hood sits next to her, leaning against a streetlamp with a blade-holding arm lazily draped over his knee.

“More will be on their way.” Breaks the quiet. The voice modulator, husky and reverberant, doesn’t strike fear (or even curiosity) anymore. It is familiar, and she wants familiar, yearns for it in a moment as impossible as this.

There are thirty highly complex muscles per hand. Sixty, total. Scientists of the highest caliber have been trying for centuries to recreate the human hand but have always found that something is missing. There is an art to the human hand- perfected artistry, from rolling wrists to feather-light fingertips.

Yet, when she lifts her hands to speak in the only language she can, it all falls short. Her fingers feel like pasta cooked ten minutes too long, and she is stuck staring at them without having gestured one word. Betrayal to the highest degree flashes in her eyes and, with her hands completely still, she looks up at the sunroof-breaking jerk she should probably be blaming for all of this.

She wonders how it is that an unchanging mask seems to be emanating emotion. As if, behind the kevlar and technologies, he might actually be feeling something. 

Rosalie suspects it is pity that seeps through the disguise. 

“I have a… someone is on the way for you, until everything blows over.” A trembling ghost of a nod is all she can manage. 

Not long after this ‘conversation’, a sedan shows up with a flourish. The car itself is absent of any glitz or glamor. What brings it to life is the flourish of capes that follow- most notably, one accompanied with an all too familiar cowl. Were she a few years younger, Rosalie might have fangirled a little, like most Gothamites. For now, she continues to sit as she has since initially taking her spot on the sidewalk, though her eyes are now focusing on the newcomers instead of Red Hood.

“This is Rosalie. She’s-”

“How bad in shock is she?”

“Bad. Not hurt, if you’d let me finish.”

“Not that you know of. There’s blood on the edge of her sweater, could be hers.” It somehow brings Rosalie out of her stupor a bit, to hear Nightwing and Batman chide the Red Hood over someone as unimportant as her, and to Robin keeping a dead stare in her direction.

“She’s not speaking.”

“She can’t, remember?” Nightwing turns to Robin, exasperated, as Batman hurriedly takes over once more.

“We’ve got it. This won’t happen again, ma’am, we’ll make sure of it.” 

Honestly, it makes her uncomfortable to meet eyes with Batman- metaphorically, of course. She can’t see past his mask. The greasy dinners with Red Hood had been much different, and they hadn’t even spoken a word to each other on those offhanded occasions, just quietly eating as she worked on inventory and a show played on her falling-apart laptop. 

Batman seems to accept the shock as an answer, turning and leading his compatriots into her shop. When they are finally alone again, Red Hood stands and carefully helps Rosalie up until she is standing, his gloved hand firm around her upper arm.

“I’m taking you to a safehouse until the situation is handled.” Telling, not asking- though she is hardly going to argue with that solution, focusing instead on the warmth his hand provides against her skin, not meeting his ‘eyes’ once as she is ushered into the sedan.

In the passenger seat she tries to use her hands. Flexing, unflexing each slender finger, twisting her wrist. There is a great aching in her torso that begins to intensify as the shock subsides, and her neck is craned to look out the window for the entire journey. In the reflection of the tinted window and, in a moment where she has glanced just above the passing sidewalk, she can see the Red Hood looking over at her, a sustained check-in before he hurriedly averts her eyes. 

The car ride is a strained silent. 

She thinks that the vigilante can still see how badly she is trembling, even when her hands are finally able to muster enough strength to open the passenger door. Thankfully, he says nothing, crossing around the car in a few long strides to get the door for Rosalie and usher her into the safehouse.

Then, the strangest thing happens. 

It’s not like a dam breaks- though, it’s not unlike that, either. It is grand and subtle and loud and silent and she stands still while her body horrifically crumbles into itself. All the air in Rosalie’s lungs expels itself at once and, no matter how hard she tries, it won’t come back. She is self-strangled, suffocating, until the very last second as dots speckle her vision- then, her body tortures her further by sucking in all the air at once and continuing until the Red Hood has hidden the car and locks the front door behind him.

Truth be told, the Red Hood seems shocked. It would dawn on her later that this, for all technical intents and purposes, would be his first time ever hearing her. And, of course, it was like this- horrible, disgusting, strangulated, this.

Or, is it not shock whatsoever? For now, he still stands inches in front of her, arms outstretched like he wants to do something about it but has not the faintest idea what that something should be. He seems confused. He wants to help, but doesn’t know how.

“Rosalie,” The modulator (surely not his voice) wavers, the arms remaining in their awkward half-outstretched stance as he continues. Or, tries to continue- begins to. Either his words fall short or he decides against saying what’s on his mind, opting instead to reach forward and engulf her in his arms.

Rosalie has a moral objection to leather, not even buying secondhand. She thought leather couches and faux-leather interiors of cars to be disgusting, and the handbags to be consistently gauche. The Red Hood, though, has a leather jacket on, and at this moment it is not gauche, and she has no objection to it- moral, fashion, or otherwise. In this moment there is no greater comfort that is able to be offered, and it is all she needs it to be. The material expands upon the warmth someone of his stature already emanates, and the worn material is unexpectedly soft against the few spots of her exposed skin that it meets. 

The warmth, as well as his silence, aides in turning the choking sensation into normal sobs though, for her, even that sounds different compared to the cries of those who could produce noise. Minutes pass before she pushes the vigilante away from her just enough to bring a fist up to her chest, leaning with the other hand on one hip while making the circular motion with the fist on her chest. It’s a tired sign, something made even more evident to the Red Hood as he watches her shoulders droop further from their raised, tense position.

“Whatever you’re apologizing for-” One of his hands lightly swats at her fist, stopping the weak signing of her apology, “Don’t.”

The sigh that accompanies his command provides her some sort of proof that he means this. That he is the sorry one, that he, too, is exhausted from today.

Rosalie doesn’t figure the new stains on his leather jacket will help and-

Is that her blood?

Red follows her eyes, alight with fresh worry, to the stains on his sleeves and chest. His arms lift from his sides, turning over so he can assess the situation, and- yes, some of that is definitely her fresh blood from just moments prior.

“You’re bleeding,” He begins, ignoring the way she reaches for the hem of the leather sleeve and begins turning it back and forth between her thumb and forefingers. 

Will this come out? - 

Before she finishes her sentence, before she can go to sign ‘sorry’ again, he is swatting her hand lightly, letting his own fall to the small of her back. Delicately, he leads her to a washroom. 

“Believe it or not,” He grumbles, guiding her until she sits on the edge of the tub, “I deal with blood pretty regularly, Rose-”

A comcially large first aid kit is pulled onto the floor to punctuate his sentence. 

“So don’t worry about it.”

Neither of them say anything more as he begins to get all sorts of gauze and bandage out. Rosalie is zoned out, still reeling from her panic attack. Yet, she manages to catch the moment he almost lifts his mask up in front of her, stopping right before.

“I-” He pauses.

“Room across the hall, top two drawers of the dresser. Shorts and shirts. You’re covered in blood, so change and try and figure out where you’re hurt.”

He needs to unmask, and he must know that she is aware of that. It is true, however, that she is covered in blood, she obliges, allowing her hand to linger just a moment longer than necessary when she uses his shoulder to get up from the bathtub. 

The shower sputters to life as she crosses into the bedroom. Granted, calling it a bedroom may be a slight overaggeration. It’s hardly a full room, there’s bullet shells and what she can only infer to be gun-related cleaning equipment strewn on the nightstand. Some newspapers are haphazardly taped to the wall with shredded bits of stickers from fast food restaurant bags, the likes of which show through a tied up garbage bag in the corner. 

There’s no mirror in here. It’s a fact that Rosalie is most grateful for at the moment- the way that blood flakes off of her, dried down even though it can’t have been more than an hour since it all happened. Her face feels puffy, though from crying or bruising she can’t be sure. Faintly, she hears sharp breaths from the bathroom, where the shower has once more fallen silent. Rosalie figures he is fixing himself up and takes her time finding a thick T-Shirt and some running shorts, resisting the urge to fall back onto the bed and bloody that, too. The clean clothes remain in her hand as she finds her way back to the bathroom door, rapping upon it lightly. 

When it opens he is masked again, leather jacket strewn over his shoulder and belt haphazardly looped through the waist of his pants. The Red Hood does not utter a word as he brushes past her, jerking a nod towards the shower. Rosalie obeys- once in, she turns the water as hot as the disgustingly outdated shower will allow, tries not to focus on the muddied crimson that pools in the bottom of the shower for minutes before it runs clean, tries not to relax in the steam for fear of letting her guard down and crying again. It is only once she has done this- tossed the towel aside, pulled the clothes onto her still dripping figure- that she works up the strength to look in the mirror. 

She looks horrid. 

Her face is bruised, puffiness subsided otherwise- her stomach, legs, and arms tell a different story. Black and blue from being thrown to the ground, more than a few cuts and two really good gashes on her rib and thigh. Rosalie’s neck still holds a bruised imprint from the knife, though little more than a knick is left as evidence, which she takes as a miserable sort of saving grace. 

Rosalie makes a point to try and present herself as an optimist. Tries to smile, to brighten people’s day even if in the marginally important customer-servicey way. Tries to silently show waitresses and crossing guards she appreciates them. Consciously, intentionally, truly tries to be anything good, because she knows how- for lack of better word- sad, she can be. How sadness fills her full, paralyzes her some days until she has to call off of work and lay on the kitchen floor, limp. How lifting a coffee cup feels like an anvil, or taking a shower seems like such an impossible task, she alienates it until she can’t remember how she’s ever done it at all. Looking in the mirror, this is what she sees. Not the Rosalie she intentionally tries to be- the Rosalie she is. The Rosalie she works so hard to improve, all while forgetting that “running away from” doesn’t equal “improving upon”. Sad, sad. Sad. Sad. Sad.

An echoing ‘thump’ sounds as she falls back onto the rim of the tub, and she feels so miserable, she doesn’t even mind the usually so-irritating-it’s-scalp-burning sensation of wet hair on her skin. This thud must be audible, since a knock quickly follows, the Red Hood entering once again.

He is silent. Takes his time looking at her, she thinks, though it’s made all the more unnerving by the way she can’t actually track his exact line of sight unless he tilts his head.

He scoffs.

He falls to take a knee in front of her, swiping his hand to pick up a needle on his way down. The other steals a towel from a hanging rack and lays it across her lap, gloved hands as electric as flint and steel as they ghost the newly uncovered skin of her bare thighs. The free hand then wraps too-easily around her hip, adjusting her- and she goes in for a hug, out of instinct, when he turns his body just so. Leans in, arms around him, realizing too late what her physical instinct had done. 

Red Hood pulls away with a bewildered jerk, and that’s when she fully realizes her stupidity. He wasn’t going for a hug- he had been adjusting her, to literally give her homemade stitches.

I don’t know why I did that.

His shoulders fall ever so slightly as she signs, gaining his composure before resuming his (close, close, so close to her that he can probably hear each quivering breath or smell the body wash she had used some of or-) position in front of her. He ignores the incident altogether.

“This will hurt. Don’t move.”

The pain is overbearing as she feels him sink the needle into her. Rosalie tries her darnedest to stay as quiet as he had when she was switching into his clothes- how used to this is he, she wonders?- though the effort is futile, and she surely triples the amount of time it should take with the pauses she takes to regain her breath, or squirm in discomfort. She is, after all, wiser than to do so while a needle hovers mere centimeters over her bruised skin.

It feels like years pass before Red Hood tosses the needle in the trash, tying off the final knot. He has some mercy, she thinks, watching him wait for the water to warm up before dampening a towel. This is some relief to the stinging where he has stitched her up, the final bits of crusted blood being dabbed away by the towel.

Really, Rosalie thinks she could have done that bit by herself, though she keeps quiet.

Rosalie finally drops his shirt from where it has been lifted up to her chest, allowing more access to the wounds on her side. Neither of them move beyond this. Not until Rosalie lifts her head, signing halfheartedly.

Are you? Okay. Are you okay.

In the bathroom is a light that has faded to orange, dimmed with age. It catches his mask as he shifts to look away, out of the doorway. It shines so bright for that single millisecond that she cannot help but cringe at the glare, no matter how quick it was.

“I’m used to it,” And though it isn’t the ideal response, Rosalie settles on it being okay for not. Not great, not horrible. Just okay.

They’re okay. They are alive, and breathing, and in a bathroom with a shitty light bulb. It’s okay.

Fueled by the newfound energy of coming to terms with their situation (as well as being physically okay, for the most part) Rosalie lifts herself from the edge of the tub. She stumbles forward, catching herself with a hand on Red Hood’s shoulder. 

She lets it linger, turning to face him and lifting her free hand to sign.

New lightbulb.

Red is already lifting himself up, wrapping a supportive (and careful- he had been the one to stitch her up, after all) forearm round her torso while taking strides towards the bed.

“I’ll be sure to call you when I want a safehouse renovation,” He sets Rosalie down, placing his sole pillow vertically and rushing to find something else to prop her up with, “Maybe we can add a wraparound balcony, too. A chandelier, maybe.”

Swarovski.

“Glad you thought that was funny enough to waste time fingerspelling.”

His tone never once changes and, still, his voice is laced with sarcasm thick as tar, bubbling under each and every syllable. When Red Hood looks over, he sees a small grin on her, and a middle finger briefly directed his way. This, to him, is only made funnier by the fact that Rosalie normally tries to watch her language. He wishes she could see the way he is nearly smiling.

When Red Hood’s ‘eyes’ fall once more to the floor in front of him, Rosalie is sure to reprimand him for it, clapping with all the strength she could muster while coming down from all the shock. Upon looking up, he finds her in a most unusual position. Her arms are outreached to him. One falls, patting the space next to her. 

It’s been a long time- if it’s ever been at all- that someone has beckoned the vigilante like that. With no ill intent. With gentleness, and exhaustion, and the air that it’s the most obvious thing to do in the world. That he should just go lay next to her. 

So, in the most awkward way possible, he obeys. Red Hood turns, swinging a knee over her and falling on his stomach next to Rosalie. He’s since abandoned the leather jacket and, with only the restraint of his sweater and compression shirt, his muscles allow themselves to relax. For only a moment, he allows them to do just so, forgoing the usual tension caused by holding up the weight of the world.

In the moment, he had closed his eyes, though they open once more once his moment of calm is decidedly over. At least, he thought so, before opening his eyes to catch a sideways look of Rosalie staring down at him. Her eyes are lidded with exhaustion, managing to lock onto his own nonetheless.

Her hand lifts. She almost signs something, then pauses. The hand stays raised even once he registers that Rosalie decided against saying something. When it falls, it lands on his back. Up, down, and up again with a featherlike touch. He can’t help the way his breath hitches at the intimacy. Or the anxiety that rises with the realization that he is letting this happen.

“Did I ever scare you?”

You don’t.

“Did I ever, though?” Rosalie is clearly thinking over her response to the repeated question, moving to lay on her shoulder and look him right in his mask’s netted eyes. 

Before I knew you better, maybe.

Then one day you were watching shows with me while I repotted some plants. And I realized I liked being around you. 

Scary people aren’t usually that likable to be around.

I think you’re good. I think that’s why we’re here right now.

As Rosalie did her best to sign, her host did his best not to care too much about the words- which was, worth mentioning, going to end up an absolutely failed mission. Instead, he focused on the signing. The way that doing so while she was turned on her side prevented her from holding her hair back, and how it fell in front of her eyes, the brushing back of which would occasionally serve as the catalyst for the ending and beginning of a new sentence. How she, deluded from the adrenaline-comedown she was experiencing, did not shift uncomfortably or avoid eye contact, her gaze languidly moving between his eyes or wherever else on the mask her gaze happened to fall upon.

Red Hood wasn’t known for failing missions.

And yet, he felt nearly possessed as his hand raised up to his mask. In one swift movement it was disengaged, balled up in his hand as he brought himself up to lean on an elbow over her.

For her part, Rosalie seemed to wake up from her stupor, eyes widening.

“Jason,” He croaked out, swallowing a lump in his throat that arose as soon as he heard himself, “Todd. Jason Todd.” 

Rosalie maintained her wide-eyed, slack-jawed look, though an eyebrow came to rise as she noticed her expression and snapped her mouth shut. Now she was sat fully up, comforter falling down to her hips.

J-A-S-O-N-T-O-D-D

“Yeah,” It came out breathless- something that seemed to bring a smile to Rosalie, and an equally breathless, confused laugh.

Why?

Jason paused at the question. Not for lack of understanding- for lack of answer.

For lack of confidence to give the real answer, more like.

“I just want you to see me.” He decided, an absentminded nod taking over as realization dawned. His face. What did he even look like anymore? A ‘J’ seared onto his cheekbone, scars that once made Deadpool wince for their multitude, surely some sort of black eye or bruise-

I do see you. 

Jason snapped out of his runaway train of thought, looking (really, actually looking) back into her eyes. Finally feeling like he would burst, he did away with it. Get it out of the way, get ready for rejection for signs that seemed obvious but maybe he even misread because had he ever actually felt like this for someone before and maybe this was stockholm syndrome or he was taking advantage of the horrific way the day went and she didn’t even know him really and did he know her-

I like you J-A-

“I wanna date you,”

She stops fingerspelling as they run each other over with their words, staring at Jason still. Now they both looked like slack-jawed idiots. 

Because, of course, they were both slack-jawed idiots.

I want to be your girlfriend, too. 

She finally replies and, now that the hard part and secrecy and obvliviousness and crushy part of it was done with, they both find it easier to smile. Hers, Jason notices, lights up all the way to her eyes, while his is more of the hint of a smile. 

She pays it no mind. Not that he can tell, anyways. Jason figures she is just appeased by the fact she can see him at all. He figures something grand should happen now. Maybe he should stand up and sweep her off her feet, kiss her and dip her like a tango dancer. Maybe he should surprise her with a penthouse or flowers or, at the very least, a dinner to outshine the 3 loaves of bread and vodka his cabinets were currently housing. But none of that happens. He sits there, stupid, looking at Rosalie. At his girlfriend, somehow. 

Rosalie is the one who reaches out, running a hand through his hair. It’s experimental. He can feel her slender fingers glide through each strand, still dripping from the shower, one or two beads of water falling otno the pillowcase with a quiet ‘thwop’ sound. She moves to the nape of his neck- more new territory- and continues to trace down his biceps. Lightly, she nudges him until he is laying back on his stomach, and he is about eye level with her hips when he turns to face her.

Light hands find their way to the small of his back- up, and down, and up again, traversing each muscle, shoulderblade, and vertebrae. The muscles stretch with the intake of a deep breath, sinking back down seconds later, hands lifting and falling in featherlike synchronization. Up, down, and up some more.

[bats-and-the-birds]

I like to think about young Dick Grayson a lot, and right now I'm specifically thinking about him from the Justice League's perspective.

Like, imagine you're in the Justice League, maybe you've been there for a few months, maybe for a few years, but either way, you know how it works. Superman's terrifyingly powerful, but you get over the fear factor as soon as you see him cry over a sad cat video, and Wonder Woman's still a bit intimidating, but as long as you're good and truthful, you can trust that she won't crush your head like a grape.

And Batman... well, you've made your peace with the fact that you'll never figure him out. You know literally nothing about him, other than the fact that he claims to be fully human, but you're not even really sure about that, because you're pretty sure he just materializes in the shadows sometimes. The only things that you're 100% sure of is that you're terrified of him, and you're so glad that he's not on someone else's side.

And then, suddenly, he has acquired a child. Just like everything else, you don't find out immediately, because god forbid that man tell his team anything. But you start to hear vague reports of another shadow trailing behind Batman in the night. Superman asks him about it one day, but of course, he doesn't respond, and they all wonder, but it never gets brought up again.

But one day, unexpectedly, that shadow is at a league meeting, and he's not as shadowy as you would have thought. In fact, he's wearing the most vibrant costume you've seen, and you spend all of your time with other heroes in spandex. He's also young. Terrifyingly young. It's his twelfth birthday, actually, he explains to the league, and he pestered 'B' until he agreed to take him to a meeting. You all agree later that he looks younger than twelve. And you worry about him, because why is this child in Batman's care? Can he really be trusted to look after someone so small, so young, so seemingly fragile?

Besides, Robin (Robin, his name is Robin, he's a songbird for christ's sake), is everything that you'd think Batman would hate. He talks everyone's ear off with a giant grin stretched across his entire face. He begs Superman to fly him around and cackles and claps as Wonder Woman demonstrates basic sword maneuvers for him. Before long, the whole team is in a better mood. Meanwhile, Batman stands in the shadows, his face impassive, with no explanation about the little masked boy that walked into the room hiding under his cape.

He leaves just as he came, disappearing under Batman's cape as the two exit the watchtower together, and the whole league is left to wonder how the fuck that child ended up in Batman's care, and whether or not they should intervene, because spending prolonged time in Batman's company cannot be healthy for a child.

But then he starts showing up more and more, popping up in some places that you know from Batman's glare he's not supposed to be. He's teamed up with that speedster boy and the two of them cause havoc, but Robin takes the lecture he gets with a grin and gives a half hearted promise to behave.

You steadily start to realize that he might not be as out of place in Batman's company as you originally thought. You realize that the boy is a performer through and through, and that extends to that grin of his that dazzled the team when they first met him. You get the impression that sometimes its genuine, yes, but you'd never know if it wasn't. His exuberance is a persona held in place as meticulously as Batman's grim seriousness.

And though you'd assumed that Batman's sidekick (partner, the boy insisted, rather intensely, though his smile never faltered) would be well trained, this kid could take down league members, you're sure. You quickly realize that he enjoys fighting, and he fights viciously, giggling and putting on a show, but leaving broken bones in his wake. Your first impression is that Robin was more human than the demon they called the Batman, but you quickly start to question that too. If Batman can materialize in shadows, then Robin can fly. He twists through the air like gravity doesn't affect him and lands with so much grace that you'd think he had hollow bones like his namesake. You're not fully convinced he doesn't, considering he climbs up the bat with no warning, clinging onto his back like he belongs there (you quickly start to think he does), or he'll throw himself through the air with no more warning than a quick 'catch' yelled to his partner. And Batman catches him. Batman always catches him. Everyone keeps an eye on him when he's up high, but there's a part of you that feels like it's impossible that he'd ever fall. Or at least, impossible that Batman would ever let him hit the ground.

And you start to think that Robin's exactly where he's supposed to be; perched on Batman's shoulder, hiding in his cape, or fighting by his side. You still hope there's a normal boy behind the mask, going to school and making friends with someone to tuck him in at night, but you also can't imagine anything normal about Robin, and maybe that's why he needs to be by Batman's side, and maybe that's why Batman needs him too.

[myeagleexpert]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕞𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕘𝕠 𝕠𝕟

Yan!Batfamily x Singer!YN (neglected) Inspired by @@gotham-daydreams's fic, your work is wonderful and makes me think about many things…. One of the things I think about is if they found Reader from her music….

Summary: Despite everything, the show must go on. Warnings: Mention of healing processes, Reader has a trigger in the middle of an important show Mention: Reader as YN, Dick Grayson, Friend!Reader Note: This fic takes place before the events of Not [ ], before they meet Reader and become yandere because of her. Check out and value the original author's work, it's a very complete and interesting fic! < 3 You can find more of this here

“YN! YN! YN!” the crowd screamed her name, the fans excited to see their favorite idol, wanting more of her performance.

The makeup artist was applying the final touches to her vibrant makeup while the hair stylist was reshaping the curls of her wig. The final touches before going on stage again while they were backstage.

“Everyone loved your performance! They’re screaming for you out there!” says one of the dancers excitedly

“The last song was amazing, YN! We can feel the energy here!” praises the makeup artist while touching up the glitter in her eye

“Aaaah that’s great! I’m not nervous like last time so it’s good to see it’s working out!” Yn says while drinking water, her first times on stage had been shy and awkward, but after overcoming that initial barrier today she performs with confidence, dancing and interacting with the audience masterfully.

“1 minute to get back on stage guys!” one of the organizers warned, making everyone there, including YN, mentally prepare for yet another amazing choreography.

You can do it, YN! she started to motivate herself mentally while reviewing the next song.

“M ama ma i make my own mantra……”

Ow, the broccoli loved this song! My broccoli like the choreography!

“30 seconds!”

I should have run for my music career before, the broccolis supported me from the beginning, why did it take me so long to do this?

“20 seconds!”

Ow….. I remembered, because of them…… just thinking about everything that happened at Wayne Manor, YN's vibe and mood drop, the magazine cover smile is replaced by a blank look and under eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

“10 seconds!”

Why am I thinking about them now? They don't even deserve to be in my thoughts. It's showtime, Yn, focus!

“3….2….1”

“Time to go on stage! It’s showtime!” the crew starts cheering and clapping with YN, getting into the festive show mood as they enter the stage

“WHATS UPS BROCCOLISSS?!” YN excitedly greets them through the microphone, the audience goes wild, screaming and raising the show props.

The house is full, today the show is in one of the biggest concert venues in London, with all the floors packed and the VIP area swarming with important people, reporters, cameras, today is a success! YN’s costume shines and stands out in the dark house, with sparkles and sequins that reflect the light in shades of pink and blue, the wig sets her apart like an anime protagonist and the dancers dance with expression and boldness. It's at these times that YN feels on top of the world, not out of arrogance but out of belonging… this is her place, this is what she does best. Her heart is full of joy as she jumps choreographing with the dancers, she feels light even when she sings with all her body and soul. And it's exactly at these moments, when life likes to poke at the wound…

Amidst the lights of the place while YN was catching her breath, she saw out of the corner of her eye, among the many people in the stands, a person suspiciously similar to him… Dick Grayson. The breath she was trying to recover to get into the next part of the song gets stuck in her throat as she remains paralyzed while searching for that man in the crowd.

"It's not possible… it can't be him… not today!"

Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne's eldest son, the first Robin, the boy prodigy… these are some of the names and titles he received throughout his life, but all YN wanted to call him was brother. His image was warm and kind, always hugging the other brothers and helping the new Robins adapt, transforming this time with them into something familiar and a memory to keep in the colorful albums of the mind… but why not me? Why does everyone have the right to his charming smile while I am left with the stiff back of ignorance? Why could everyone spend time with him while I was always the last option?

Why? Why? Why?

And unexpectedly, Yn was no longer a confident singer on the path to success, she was a defenseless and insecure girl who sought affection from her brother. She felt transported to the terrible mansion again in a state of agonizing nostalgia, where her small hands tried to intertwine with his with hope… only for him to let go of her hand with a not very disguised look of disgust.

“Oh YN, I can't stay with you now! I have to go to patrol!” With an unapologetic smile, Dick entered the movie theater where his friends from the Teen Titans were for one of their many hang outs.

Yn knew she didn't have the love of Bruce, her father, but was she so terrible that she didn't deserve her brother's affection?

“Can I really call you brother?”

No, you don't deserve it.

At that moment, little voices in her head conspired with YN. Imposter Syndrome? Who knows? She seemed to be slowly succumbing to the many memories of the mansion, the turned backs and the disgusted eyes, the neglect, the cruelty, the shadows in the corner of the smallest room in the house that seemed to be the only refuge besides Alfred himself, who, despite having done everything in his power, still did not fill the emptiness that the girl felt…

Walls full of gold, silver and bronze medals and trophies from various sports, records and photos with important people would be enough to make anyone feel proud of the honors and merits conquered with their own sweat. But for the innocent girl, they were just poor failed plans to get the family's attention. It is no wonder that, when she left the mansion, she left her belongings and the glories of her childhood in the same room without looking back, with the idea of ​​a new path to be taken.

"YN, you go in now." The manager said through the singer's earpiece, counting the seconds for her to enter the chorus……but she didn't enter "YN?"

She was thinking too much, lost in thought, thinking too much……

Why wasn't it enough? Why wasn't I enough? Why? Why?

"YN, are you okay?"

Why was I so lonely? Why didn't anyone want to play with me?

With great skill, the singer next to YN pulled a remix for the two's song when he realized that something was wrong while the stage management called YN backstage, she went there on robotic stages with her hand on the communicator, making the audience think it had just been a technical problem. They got her water and sat her in a chair.

ł ₮ⱤłɆĐ ₴Ø Ⱨ₳ⱤĐ ₮Ø ₲Ɇ₮ ₵ⱠØ₴Ɇ ₮Ø ₮ⱧɆ₥, ł ₮ⱤłɆĐ ₴Ø Ⱨ₳ⱤĐ ₣ØⱤ ₮ⱧɆ₥… ₴Ø ₩ⱧɎ ₩₳₴₦'₮ ł₮ Ɇ₦ØɄ₲Ⱨ? ₩ⱧɎ ₵ØɄⱠĐ₦'₮ ₮ⱧɆɎ Ⱨ₳VɆ ₵Ø₥Ɇ?

"YN, are you okay?" the manager asked, he had been with YN since she started taking her first baby steps in her music career, it was a worrying scene to see her cold and without answering a word, he frowned as he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder “YN… we are here with you, what is going on?”

₩ⱧɎ ₩ⱧɎ ₩ⱧɎ ₩ⱧɎ ₩ⱧɎ

“Why?…” she murmured, frowning as she looked up, still lost in old memories and some random point on the ceiling. The confused manager turned his head slightly, confused about what she was talking about.

Friend!Reader, who was nearby and recognized what was happening, as he had been by her side several times when this happened, approached and told the manager that he would take care of her.

“Hey, Earth to YN, what happened there?” he said, hugging YN, she didn’t return the hug, she just stayed leaning against him like a corpse.

“Friend!Reader…?”

“Yes, YN?” he asked

“Why, Friend!Reader…… why not me?” and with whispered words she buried her face in Friend!Reader's shoulders, as she let herself be carried away by the contained emotions and he hugged her trembling form tighter.

The wound that was beginning to heal was opening again, like a bandage aggressively ripped off a skin that was being reconstructed. The wound in her mind pulsed with a constant pain, a memory of something that had never been completely healed. Like a poorly made scar on her skin, the pain was a constant reminder of something that no matter how much she tried to ignore it and start from scratch, it still hadn't been resolved.

Like medicines that have a set time until the end of their effect and at some point, the pain returns, that was Yn's focus while she convinced herself that everything was fine and that she had overcome the situation…. sooner or later the effect wears off, and the pain returns. But while she tried to heal, each emotional trigger seemed to rip the wound open again, causing uncomfortable and uneasy feelings…

“I saw one of them, Friend! Reader… I'm not sure, but… I know I saw him! In the corner of the show, my show….” she whispered to him, almost in tears

“Calm down, YN, let's talk about this…”

“He was there! I'm sure the others must be there too… laughing at me, saying I'm not good enough to be on stage… or maybe, maybe he doesn't even recognize me, you know?”

“That's enough, YN!” said the friend, shaking the singer by the shoulders. He hated seeing her like that, so insecure and fragile. “You can stop right there!”

“You're one of the best people I know, and my best friend! You're really good at what you do, you have an excellent voice and you dance really well! YOU'RE AMAZING!” He continued with a smile on his face “And if a family of rich kids didn’t know how to recognize that in you, that’s their problem! Screw them! If I ask anyone out there, they’ll give you a list of 100 reasons why you’re amazing!”

Then he points to the screen that showed the audience singing and having fun.

“Those people do like your music, but they didn’t come because your music sticks like chewing gum” he jokes and is relieved when he sees a smile on her sad face “They’re here because they admire you YN, whether it’s with a YouTube channel or on a social network all dressed up.”

He then puts a finger on her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“So no insecurity here, no self-sabotage, no sad memories… not here! You’re my best friend, and you’re at the peak of your career. So go out there and ROCK!” With that, Friend!Reader gives YN a big hug and gets excited when he sees that her friend is starting to get back to normal.

“What did you write in those diaries?”

“So many things, I don’t remember right now..” you laugh lightly “But now, the ones I hope like my music are my fans.”

“YES! AND WHAT WILL THEY REALIZE WHEN THEY READ YOUR DIARY?”

“THAT THEY DON’T MEAN ANYTHING TO ME!” The two cheer and joke around with each other, with the support of Friend!Reader, she starts to get excited and return to the stage, singing louder and stronger, entering the chorus of the remix.

She remembered the reserved and empty seats of her first shows, all reserved for family, and saw that years later, strangers occupied all the seats in the concert hall. She remembered when she was little, she would rehearse alone in her rooms for school auditions, and now she sings for a large auditorium in one of the biggest capitals in the world. She remembered lame excuses and looks of contempt, and realized that everyone there was looking at her with admiration and love.

Her family wasn't in a haunted mansion, they were backstage taking care of her, they were on stage dancing and singing with her. She knows who the real ones are, so why worry about the ones who aren't? They say that time heals, but in truth, it's the process that heals. It's painful. Agonizing. But when it's over, you look back and realize how much you've come from it.

She sang with every lyric and every syllabary, she intoned the words with truth and determination, she proclaimed from the bottom of her heart with strength to everyone at the concert and to herself:

“HAVE YOU SEEN, COME AND READ MY DIARY THEN YOU WILL SEE THAT YOU DONT MEAN S H I T TO ME”

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Every like, repost and comment is very welcome and appreciated. ♥

@imaginarydreams I hope you like this version of the good ending :D

If any of you want to be tagged, let me know in the comments <3

[ftm-dick-grayson]

More people should headcanon Dick Grayson as a trans man. I mean, cmon. He lives in a tower shaped like a T. Their transportation is the T-ship. That boy is on testosterone.

[thatonecode]

do you think dick grayson feels the weight of the world sometimes do you think he lays awake at night in his tiny shitty apartment in bludhaven and thinks about how he's the one who taught bruce wayne- who taught BATMAN how to really feel and love again and how every single robin after him is his responsibility because of that ? do you think he sits at family dinners with the whole extended batfamily and thinks "i did this" because he was the first ? do you think he sees some new teen hero and is terrified for them because he was them back when he wasn't around to be looked up to ? because he was the first ? do you ever think about how he wasn't only the first robin but the first kid hero ? and every fight he won he proved that other kids could too and do you think he regrets that ?? knowing how many terrified children there are fighting wars that shouldn't be theirs to fight ???? do you think he is also so incredibly proud of all of them in a way only he can because he Came First ??????

i think he does

do you think it drives a wedge between him and the entire world ? do you think jason sees him on some rooftop in gotham and thinks about sitting down next to him but doesn't because of all the years of distance and arguments and despite everything that's ROBIN sitting there ? the original ? and how jason never would have been robin if dick hadn't proved that robin was more than a child soldier in an adults war ?? with all that between them what could jason say compared to everyone's golden boy, the perfect child, the original boy wonder ???? do you think tim ever gets over his hero worship ? or is there a split second everytime where he goes Holy shit ! it's Nightwing !! Nightwing is talking to me !!!! even after everything that dicks put him through and all the empty space between them that tim never imagined would be there ? do you think that's just the effect that dick has on people where no matter what you can't help but look at him in awe, like he's superhuman ?

do you ever think about how he was an ordinary kid ? he could have been anyone . do you think about if he was anyone else he likely would not have made it and someone else would have had to fight all the battle he did, to survive, to be taken seriously, to figure out how to breathe and live and be the light instead of being smothered in batman's shadow ??? do you think about how he was the first kid hero but he was still just a kid growing up and fighting with his dad, and moving away and making new friends and falling in love and he was still the first kid hero and he was never just a kid . he was the leader of the first kids hero team . he's never just been a kid . do you think he regrets that it was him ??? do you think when batman died he regretted everything, every single thing? i don't think he did . do you think that when he was batman, and raising batman's son the way bruce raised him, the way alfred raised bruce (always raising someone elses son) he saw himself in all the anger and the reckless way damian would throw himself into fights, in a desperate way to prove himself the only way he CAN ?? do you think dick remembers being 10 and sad and angry and needing someone else to be hurt so that it wasn't just him ??? do you think that dick regrets making damian robin because of how it forces him to look at how he himself has grown and how much robin has changed from what he made it ??? i don't think he does . do you think he ever apologies to tim ? i don't think he knows how, i think he finds himself staring at their texts and wondering what words would have fixed his hurt when bruce fired him and kicked him out . and i think he decides time and space is what did it, so time and space will do it again . i think it's the wrong decision . i think they both regret it later . do you ever think about how bruce might have tried but at the end of the day everyone went to dick because he was easier to talk to ?

do you think about how he made the hard decisions like batman did, and he lost his parents like batman did, and he grew up in a massive empty house with an emotionally distant father who tried his hardest but still felt oceans away, like batman did, and he decided to be the light where batman decided to be the shadows ? he decided he wouldn't let it break him like batman did, but batman chose to become something to fear and nightwing has always been more hopeful, brighter, flashier . do you think about how in the middle of the night young people unaccustomed to the manor might end up in dicks room instead of bruce's ? because there's always a piece of bruce that stays batman, even when he takes the cowl off ? do you think about how dick understands because he was a young person unaccustomed to the manor, standing outside bruce's bedroom absolutely terrified to go in ? and how he was the first, and all he and bruce had were eachother ?

do you think about how hard they've worked since then to make sure that no one else will be alone the way they were ? and how dick is able to help with all the younger kids when bruce can't, or won't because to a child those are the same things ?? do you think about how dick must have read the same parenting books that bruce had in his office after bruce died when he was stuck and drowning and grieving and there was a child down the hall he didn't know how to protect ???? do you think dick and bruce were closer after he came back ?? do you think that just for a moment there was an echo of their past partnership in the way they were able to read eachother ?? do you think about how dick has had a hand in raising most of the other bat kids ??? because he was the first . and he was proof it was possible to live with batman and survive it ??

because i think about it . All The Time .

[farshootergotme]

I cannot believe I'm saying this but I just argued with someone who was insisting that Dick is abusive and cruel to his family and friends while excusing Jason's actions as "the pit did it". Please give me sweet/cute moments between Dick and his friends/family, whether that's just him listening (like the time he dropped everything so Tim could vent to him) or helping out etc

You ask and I'll deliver!

Dick, Bruce & Alfred

Alfred expressing his gratitude to Dick for being there after Bruce died: Batman #689

Dick and Alfred with an arm wrapped around each other: Detective Comics #838

Dick and Alfred grieving Bruce together: Nightwing (1996) #153

Alfred welcomes Dick: Nightwing (1996) #101

Dick tells Alfred he misses him: Missing (1996) #126

Alfred and Dick hugging: Gotham Knights #25

Dick hugs Alfred: Titans Hunt #2

Dick tells Bruce that if he wants him to wear the cowl again, he will: Batman and Robin (2011) #34

Dick helps Bruce save Damian in the simulation: Batman and Robin (2011) #23

Dick saves Bruce and they hug: Robin and Batman #3

Dick hugging Bruce after he and the league are saved: JLA (1997) #75

Dick calls Bruce “dad”: Nightwing (2016) #100

Dick tells Bruce he'd die for him: Robin (1993) #13

Dick asking Bruce if he wants to talk: Year One: Batman/Scarecrow #1

Jason & Dick

Dick gives Jason his old costume and his phone number in case he needs to talk: Batman #416

Dick catches Jason before he falls off a train: Nightwing (1996) #106

Dick calls Jason “little wing” while they work together: Nightwing (1996) #106

Dick tells Jason about Bruce firing him and apologizes for Bruce about him using Dick to make Jason feel small: Nightwing v4 annual #1

Dick hanging out with Robin!Jason: Nightwing v4 annual #1

Dick tells Jason they're brothers: Nightwing v4 annual #1

Dick tells Jason he's proud he's put the guns away: Nightwing v4 annual #1

Nightwing calls Red Hood “Robin” to calm him down: Nightwing v4 annual #1

Parallel to the past: Nightwing v4 annual #1

Dick promises Jason he'll talk with Bruce so Jason doesn't get in trouble after helping the Teen Titans in a mission: The New Teen Titans v2 #31

Dick offers Jason help: Batman and Robin (2009) #6

Cass & Dick

Dick offering Cass to talk: Batman: Family v2 #7

Dick and Cass apologize to each other: Batman and the Outsiders v2 #14

Dick and Cass cooking together: Nightwing (2016) #106

Dick and Cass working together to find the truth about Bruce murderer’s allegations: Batman: Bruce Wayne – Fugitive

Dick and Cass race each other: Batman – Legends of the Dark Knight #184

Cass describes in her journal how Dick told her about Cinderella and made her laugh: Batgirl (2000) #58

Dick stops Jason from attacking Cass: Batman & Robin Eternal #3

Tim & Dick

Blindfolded bonding: Nightwing (1996) #25

Dick hugging Tim and kissing the top of his head: Nightwing (1996) #139

Dick inviting Tim on a mission: Nightwing (1996) #142

Dick makes Tim laugh: Robin (1993) #71

Dick cooking for Tim: Batman #512

Dick complimenting Tim's skills: Robin 80 Years of the Boy Wonder The Deluxe Edition

Dick complimenting Tim's skills 2.0: Nightwing (1996) #6

Tim tells Dick that he will always be there for him: Red Robin (2009) #12

Dick changes his plans to stay and listen to what Tim needs to talk about: Robin (1993) #156

Dick and Tim hanging out: Secret Origins 80 Page Giant

Dick calls Tim his little brother: Secret Origins 80 Page Giant

Damian & Dick

Dick and Damian hugging when they find out the other is alive: Grayson #12

Dick hugs Damian relieved that he's okay: Nightwing (2016) #20

Dick assures Damian they'll find Bruce: Nightwing (2016) #29

Damian admits to have missed Dick: Nightwing (2016) #20

“We are still the greatest”: Nightwing (2016) #20

Dick comforting Damian as he cries: Batman v3 #33

Damian thanking Dick for being there: Batman v3 #34

Batman!Dick saves Damian's life and praises his work: Batman and Robin (2009) #3

Damian tells Dick he is his favorite partner: Batman Incorporated v2 #8

Dick and Alfred acknowledge Damian's efforts to be better: Batman and Robin (2009) #22

Damian throws up and Batman!Dick comforts him: Batman - Streets of Gotham #7

Dick calls Damian his Robin: Robin (2021) #5

Damian says he doesn't need the Titans because he already has a friend in Gotham (Dick): Teen Titans v3 #92

The (Teen) Titans & Dick

Wally and Dick hugging: Nightwing 1996 #141

Wally asks Dick for help to find Linda: The Flash v2 #214

Donna and Dick hugging: Titans Secret Files #2

Dick listens to Garth's problems: Titans v2 #15

Dick tells Donna that he's there if there's anything she wants to talk about: The New Teen Titans #14

Dick helps Roy find Lian and bring her home with him: Action Comics #618

Dick kissing Donna’s forehead: The Titans (1999) #28

Titans pillow fight: The New Teen Titans v2 #32

Dick and Gar talk about Vic: The New Teen Titans v2 #48

Steel and Gar talking about Dick: Titans (2016) #27

Nightwing argues with Batman to save Cyborg: JLA/Titans #2

Roy opens up to Dick and Dick tells Roy he'd trust him with his life: Outsiders (2003) #11

“Who wouldn't fall in love with that wouldn't fall in love with that strength and that smile?” – Donna Troy: DC special - The Return of Donna Troy #2

Dick calls the Titans his ‘safety net’: Nightwing Secret Files and Origins

Wally tries to distance himself from his loved ones but goes see Dick when his statue won't stay turned away: The Flash v6 #9

Others

Dick comforts Jon: Nightwing (2016) #89

Kara thanks Dick for being a friend and brother to her: Justice League of America v2 #60

Superman calls Dick the multiversal constant for being confident, kind and cool in every universe he's been: Nightwing (2016) #9

Friends: Nightwing (2016) #9

Some heroes help Dick move out and Dick thanks them for their assistance: Nightwing #153

Dick Grayson, the most trusted man next to Superman: The Brave and the Bold v3 #15

Dick's neighbors talking about him: Nightwing (1996) #87

Dick gets powers for two hours and spends time with Superman: Nightwing (2016) #104

Jim tells Dick his cops prefer him to Bruce: Batman and Robin (2009) #13

Nightwing leading the Titans: Teen Titans (2003) #23

Dick relates to Conner and tells him he has to start trusting himself as Dick trusts him: Teen Titans (2003) #33

“You know, everyone's right about you. You totally rule.”: Teen Titans (2003) #33

Kyle's first impression of Dick: Green Lantern (1990) #81

Oh man! This is awful! How can Dick be this abusive? Oh, wait! he isn't.

Well, sorry it took me a bit, but I hope this helps!

There's more characters' moments I wanted to add but it was taking me too long so I decided to leave it as it is.

[momachan]

"Titans Tower. It all started with three children-- and a dream. A dream that they could make a difference. A dream that they could be good enough to make that dream last. Cyborg, Jericho, Nightwing, Raven, Starfire and Troia. New names, new futures, same dream."

Teen Titans. Secret Origins (1986-1990). Annual #3. "Pieces Of The Puzzle."

[secretidentie]

For Halloween every year dick dresses up as one of his family members. The year he decides to just throw on a cheap nightwing costume the others plan to surprise him during family dinner.

When dick walks in he's greeted by Bruce in full disco wing costume. Bruce, who has clearly been waiting for this opportunity, does everything from unnecessary flips and catchphrases to pretending to taste heroine of the ground to stay in character. At some point in the night he changed into a different version of the disco wing costume with the longer hair. During dinner he refuses to get off the table or stop smiling the whole night.

Jason shows up a little late driving a taxi cab. Fully in character as Ric, he spends the night asking to play poker and pretending he's at a shadey bar. When dick tries to ask about red hood things he insists he has no idea what he's talking about and threatens to burn down the house. Dick finally agrees to play poker just to shut him up but that inspires Ric to go on about all the adventures he's had at an underground fighting ring.

Tim spends the majority of his night hanging upside down from a chandelier. In the original Robin short-shorts, he gives inspirational speeches and keeps asking where batman is. He goes around hugging everyone except Ric and calls himself the boy wonder. Just like disco wing he refuses to sit still but atleast gets off the table during dinner.

At this point Dick is laughing his ass off and is eager to see what Damian is going to wear. He's expecting nightwing but instead Damian comes out in his little green leotard he wore back when he was in The Flying Graysons. Dick is squeezing Damian into a hug and starts crying a bit when Damian starts performing part of his floor routine.

Dick forces everyone to take a bunch of family photos, including Alfred who is dressed as The Target. He keeps this photo hung up in his house and remembers this as "the year his family was a bunch of dicks for Halloween. "

[arguablysomaya]

Nightwing's weird fem-coding

! LONG POST !

Finally got around to jotting down my thoughts on the weird way that Dick Grayson (Nightwing) often occupies female-coded roles without being a particularly feminine guy. This is entirely due to me procrastinating on my finals. Okay!

Dick has often been cited as the hero who plays into the "female gaze", and he takes up some key roles that are typically reserved for women characters.

A large portion of Dick's fem-coding is contingent on his being with his family, and when he's not with them, this fem-coding kinda drops away, such as when he's with his various teams or acting solo.

His most prominent (and imo, complex) femme-coded role is:

-> Eldest Daughter + Widow

Eldest daughter syndrome means " frequently feeling like you’re not doing enough, like you’re struggling to maintain a veneer of control, like the entire household relies on your diligence." It's born out of the unique way that first-born girls are expected to take on adult roles around the household before they've had an opportunity to fully experience childhood (an opportunity their younger siblings will have, in part due to this sacrifice). It creates a strong sense of independence and a desire to be a good role model, but also leads to undue pressure and perfectionism.

Dick acts as a central emotional pillar for those in his family. To the point that when he fakes his death, it breaks something fundamental in the family dynamic:

Not only is it repeatedly made clear that Bruce depends on Dick to act as a lifeline for his own mental struggles, but moreover, his siblings do as well. In a very literal sense, the maintenance of the batfamily rests on Dick's shoulders. Bruce is so rarely available for emotional support that these children turn to the next best thing, which, to be fair, is better than what Dick had growing up. He has to clean up so many breakdowns, it's honestly pretty staggering.

As the OG sidekick, Dick receives quite a bit of hero worship, particularly from younger heroes/sidekicks, who look toward him for guidance. As a naturally upbeat and welcoming person, Dick ends up in the position of bringing light to everyone, not just Bruce. For example, here's Cassandra:

This balancing effect is unique to Dick's skill set. However, this can (and does) backfire very easily. The same pragmatism Bruce engages in hurts extra bad when coming from Dick: like when Dick had to take Robin away from Tim. Not to mention just how intimidating Dick's legacy is, which can create resentment when his successors aren't able to play this role so easily. For example, Jason both before and after his death expressed insecurity that he felt he was constantly being compared to Dick, and falling short.

As the original character that people think of when they think "sidekick", DG Robin (and his successors) had the advantage of not losing prominence even as his contemporaries (Kid Flash, Aqualad, Wonder Girl, etc.) were de-prioritized in favor of independent teenaged heroes (like Cyborg, Beast Boy, Raven, and Starfire). But that means Robin as a concept now has to deal with questions that weren't so prominent in the earlier decades, such as: "How do we justify a grown-ass man using a child (and in fact, children) as emotional crutches?"

It's icky to think about, but there's no denying that early Batman and Robin got side eyes for homosexual subtext. I mean, they literally call each other "partners". So while that "subtext" was, and remains, just audience speculation, given Dick is literally Bruce's adopted son, there is room, I believe, to call into question how healthy it is for Bruce's oldest kid to be taking on a nearly-parental role and be a core pillar of Bruce's emotional regulation.

Hot take here, but I think Dick's relationship with Bruce was/has been pretty emotionally incestuous for a long time.

-> Emotional incest

"Emotional incest[...] is a type of emotional abuse performed by a parent. In cases of emotional incest, parents rely on their children for significant emotional support, which is a reversal of roles. Emotional incest is more than just relying on your kids on occasion—rather, it is an extreme dependence on them." (There's a pretty good argument to be made that Bruce has been emotionally incestuous with all his Robins, especially Dick and DEFINITELY Tim, but y'know. Small steps.)

Emotional incest is a semi-common consequence of eldest daughter syndrome; the natural conclusion of deputizing a child to manage the other children combining with an inability to see the child as a child, still in need of emotional guidance, but more like an adult capable of shouldering the burdens of grown-ups dumping their traumas on them.

To be clear here, while emotional incest may not be incest in the most traditional, taboo sense, it is still abuse. It's putting a burden on a child they shouldn't have to carry, even for children that aren't dealing with such extreme burdens as "grown-ass man running around in a fursuit needs me to keep him from getting himself killed". It's a perversion of a healthy parent-child relationship, where the child is treated more like a partner than a child. In Dick's case, it further exacerbates the parentification he already experiences. This is made more explicit when Bruce "dies" and Dick is cast into a sort of "Widow" role.

Dick reluctantly dons the cowl in an attempt to bring order to his family members. He's also left to parent Damian, alone. He has to make the decision to take Robin from Tim, and try to deal with the fallout from that decision. He has to put a stop to Jason's fratricidal rampage. He's made into the de-facto head of the family.

And the thing about this is: Dick's not even bad at it. In comparison to Bruce's litany of disasters-in-parenting, Dick does a pretty bang-up job of managing his siblings, heading the Justice League, and being Batman. But the crucial point is that he does this at the expense of his own mental health, which is the crux of eldest daughter syndrome. There's no denying that at the time, Dick was most certainly the best choice for New Father Figure, but it was a choice he was pushed into, and a sacrifice he had to make. When this sense of responsibility to the point of self-sacrifice is pushed to its logical conclusion, it has the effect of making Dick a Martyr-type figure.

-> Protector/Mama Bear/Avenger

Dick has shown repeatedly that his hot button is his family. From Tony Zucco to allowing Blockbuster to be killed after the villain targeted Haley's Circus, going after Nightwing's family is a pretty good way to earn yourself an asskicking. Probably the most infamous example of this is when Dick thought the Joker had killed Tim, beating the clown to death to avenge both Tim and Jason.

And while this role isn't particularly feminine, I do think it's interesting that Dick protects his family members from each other with almost the same frequency that he protects them from outside threats. He's pretty notorious for wrangling Damian and Tim, foiling Jason's murder plans, and most importantly, beating the shit out of Bruce whenever he crosses a line, such as when Bruce asks Dick to conceal being alive from their family to join Spyral or when Bruce wanted to abandon the Bruce Wayne persona after the murder of Vesper Fairchild. Or of course, more recently after Bruce's latest MK-ULTRA shenanigans.

This basically puts Dick in the position of being the glue that holds the family together, at basically all times, but especially in times of conflict. This also means he's put in the dangerous position of bodily defending his younger siblings from Bruce's wrath or irresponsibility, a position made even more awkward given the whole emotional incest thing.

That's not to say that Dick's relationship with his family is 100% unhealthy. Dick and his family members (including Bruce!) feel legitimate affection and care for each other. There are times when the dynamics here are indeed healthy. And like most people with eldest daughter syndrome, the unhealthy nature of this dynamic is usually understated. Oldest sibling syndrome is often just an unavoidable consequence of how parenting works. So while I am of the opinion that this dynamic is often unhealthy, hot take: I'm fine with that.

Now, though I've just listed some tropes that he only falls into around family, Dick also falls into some fem-coding all the time, regardless of who he's with, and these have to do mostly with his sexuality.

-> Sexual Assault & Harassment

Yeah, so nobody is surprised that this is a factor. Look up any list of the top ten hottest/sexiest/most attractive male superheroes, I guarantee 9/10 times Nightwing is number 1. However, unlike his father, whose attractiveness is usually played as a part of the male wish-fulfillment fantasy, something people aspire to be, Dick's attractiveness more often makes him an object of desire- very similar to how most attractive female characters are perceived.

And as an object of desire, Dick Grayson is constantly having to deal with being objectified.

Now, Dick Grayson being an attractive character is not the problem. Dick Grayson being sexually assaulted isn't even the problem. the problem is that he keeps being harassed, assaulted, and raped in ways that are flagrantly nonconsensual, and yet it's not treated with the seriousness it deserves. In fact, it took a full decade for Devin Grayson to retract her previous statement and admit that yes, the rooftop scene with Catalina Flores was in fact rape, and it's never been acknowledged in-universe (though, comics have always been atrocious at calling out sexual abuse of all kinds, let alone that which targets men).

Hell, even when he in-universe calls it out, he's dismissed immediately and the story continues like nothing happened.

Like???

Dick's adult sexcapades (which were consensual and enthusiastic) have long contrasted with the numerous times he's been harassed; times in which he comes across as bored, exasperated, and even frustrated with his own attractiveness and the vulnerable position it often leaves him in.

This puts him in the rare (in comics) position of being a male character who consistently and near-exclusively has his sexual agency and boundaries violated by women - a position that authors uniformly refuse to examine despite writing him into it all the fucking time.

Other characters around him frequently make comments passing off this harassment and assault as a natural consequence of Dick's own attractiveness, making "jokes" that essentially amount to "I understand why someone would want to assault him". Which- UH?

There is also, of course, the unavoidable reality that as an acrobat and an aerialist, he receives a very specific type of sexual harassment

the nature of nightwing's fight style necessitates a type of tight-fitting suit that male heroes typically don't go for: an extremely slick suit with bare-minimum armour that again, makes him vulnerable in a way most male heroes aren't, but a style female heroes wear all the time, whether it makes sense for them or not. This of course then allows artists to draw attention to this fact by posing Nightwing in poses usually reserved for femme fatales:

And unlike the Hawkeye Initiative, these poses are (largely) unironic, and not played for jokes. Dick isn't arching his back or looking over his shoulder to poke fun at how female heroes are treated; he does so because the artist (clearly correctly) sincerely believed these poses would play into the unironic gaze of the audience, and also probably thought it was hot. It's the same line of thought artists use when posing femme fatales.

He's even been known to use his sexuality as a bargaining chip, much like more traditional Femme Fatales. In Batman and Harley Quinn (2017), he refers to sleeping with Harley Quinn after being kidnapped by her as one of "the things I do for Gotham", to which she responds "I'm taking that as a 'yes'." And that's uh- not how consent works.

And this particularly sucks because- HELLO? The opportunity to explore the very real and tragically underacknowledged phenomenon of sexual violence against men is literally invaluable, especially with such a prominent character. It's one thing to ignore that men face sexual violence, it's another, entirely more unforgivable thing to continuously and explicitly depict such scenarios and play them off as jokes or not as serious as they clearly are. But what did I expect from an industry that has never had a good track record on sexual violence anyway.

-> Queercoding?

There's also of course the fact that DC has been, as of late, dropping hints that Dick might be bisexual.

That on it's own doesn't mean anything, but when paired with the fact that DC has been angling toward giving Dick a similar playboy persona that Bruce has, just with men included, it's just very interesting.

(BTW: The likelihood DC actually commits to making Dick bi is, uh, not a lot, but if they're gonna stick with this weird closet stuff for a while, let's hope they do so in a way that doesn't make him sound like a cross between Donald Trump and Harry Styles next time? Please?)

Anyway, all of this is basically to say I am forever fascinated by the gender dynamics of Dick Grayson, likely due to the fact that I'm projecting all my eldest daughter traumas onto him, and that someone who's background is in Gender Studies needs to get on this shit if they haven't already. I just love this character sm.