#This was supposed to just be a short scene about Alfred being the only one sensible enough to actually prepare for a baby | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ellana-ravenwood · 4 years ago

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“You’re not my real mom !” - Batkids x Fem!Reader (Batmom)

Synopsis : A story about those few dreaded words : “You’re not my real mom”, said by the batkids, to you, in a the heat of a moment. And the aftermath of it all...

This has been in my draft for ages. I hope you like it :) :

my masterlists : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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DICK

It happened so fast. In a quick moment of anger.

A flash, a bang, words said too quickly to truly realize their meaning.

Dick was frustrated because he felt you didn’t understand him, his point of view. And you were trying to explain to him that it was not okay to...

You know what ?

You couldn’t even remember what he did. As if whatever it was, it was all wiped out of your memory when he pronounced those bone chilling words.

You only remembered you were “scolding” him, just like parents do when their child did something he wasn’t supposed to. You rarely told Dick off, even when he would burst into fits of anger.

You always told him : “When you came into my life, you changed everything. And I love all of you little bird. Not just when you’re joking around and smiling. But also when you get angry, and lash out. You are my son, I love all of you.”

And you meant it. Often, you or Bruce would take the brunt of his anger, without batting an eye. After all, that child went through a lot. It was totally normal for him to lash out at times.

He saw his parents died right in front of him. It wasn’t a trauma that would be solved that fast (Bruce was proof of it). “The magic of love” couldn't simply cure someone who was so deeply hurt. Although it helped, over time.

Yes. Time.

It would take time, and support, for Dick to heal. And you were here for it. Here for him.

But there were times, you had to say something.

Usually, it was when he was being too reckless.

Your son could be overzealous, and go too far. And you were so worried about his safety and wellbeing...Very rarely, you’d have to “scold” him.

And you couldn’t even remember what you were lecturing him about that evening (even if you had an idea it was about being a little more careful). All you remembered was...

“You’re not even my real mom ! You can’t tell me anything !”

And him turning away from you, crossing his arms and refusing to look your way. Which was good anyway, because you were an instant mess.

“Ok”, you managed to say, wondering how the hell you were able to get the words out. And then you left. Feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. And your heart slowly breaking.

Bruce found you two later, both clearly feeling down...

Dick stayed quiet the entire time they were on patrol, and Bruce instantly knew something was wrong. He wasn’t there during your fight, and he only arrived when you were already gone, surprised that you went to bed so early in the night, and didn’t stay with your son downstairs until it was time for patrol...

The man didn’t push the boy, waiting for him to open up if he wanted to. And as usual, Dick did finally speak up. In a weak voice, as they were surveying the city from a rooftop, he said :

“I told her she wasn’t my real mom...”

“Ah.”

Bruce felt the urge to go back home and console you, knowing that you were certainly a mess, right now. But he had to take care of his boy, too.

And oh, oh Dick looked so crestfallen and sad as the meaning of his words slowly etched into his mind.

“I told her she wasn’t-she wasn’t-but she is I just-I-I don’t know why I said that-I...”

The little one was on the verge of tears, and Bruce understood why.

He probably understood more than anyone else.

He told Alfred “You’re not my dad !” more than once, and remembered how even the stoic butler looked, whenever he said it.

He remembered the hurt in his eyes, the resignation too. The “very well sir”, said in a neutral manner, but the stiff way he’d left the room.

It took Bruce a while, to finally realize that Alfred WAS his father. That he raised him, most definitely. And was always there for him during the hard times.

That he even helped and supported him, when he came back after disappearing for years, saying : “I’m going to dress up as a bat and wipe crimes from Gotham”. ...How many parents would be that understanding, eh ?

Alfred knew Bruce. And always tried to do his best for him. So whenever Bruce would yell at him that he “wasn’t his father”, it hurt.

Bruce knew it. He noticed how Alfred’s entire demeanor would change. He’d see a light go out in his eyes.

“Very well, sir.”, a small bow, and the stiffness of his body as he left...

And Bruce remembered.

The guilt and the pain he felt himself, as he regretted ever saying those words. As he knew they were going to hurt, which is why he said them in the first place.

It wasn’t that he wanted to hurt his adopted father, oh no. It was that sometimes he just...He just felt so angry ! Like everything was unfair ! And he missed his parents so much !

It was a force stronger than him, he wanted Alfred to leave him alone, and pushed him away...”You’re not my dad !”. So yes. Bruce understood little Dickie. He understood you, too. He knew how you must’ve felt, he saw it enough happening to Alfred.

Once you’d get home, he would take care of you. But right now, he had to care for his son.

Right here, on one of Gotham’s rooftop, the scary and mighty Batman slowly kneeled down, and took his boy in his arms, holding him tightly.

Dick didn’t need more to throw his arms around his father’s shoulders, and hold him strongly too, with all his nine years old strength, sobbing slowly.

Bruce drew soothing circles on his back, and whispered :

“It’s ok, it’s going to be ok. It’s ok. Calm down, things are going to be ok.”

Your husband lost count of the time passing. Were they there, holding each others while Dick was sobbing uncontrollably, for ten minutes, or for ten hours ? He didn’t know. And he didn’t budge.

His son needed him. Just like once, he needed Alfred...

Dick fell asleep in his arms, and that night, Bruce came home early.

Not like he was going to stay out anyway, knowing you were probably devastated, all alone in your room...

************

Dick fell into a deep sleep, and didn’t budge one bit even as Bruce came down the building, rode home, and put him into bed.

Bruce’s guess was that all the pent up feelings truly exhausted him. Also, he knew that crying could be tiring. And freeing, in a way.

Putting the boy’s blanket all the way up to his chin, Bruce laid a kiss on his forehead and then rushed to your shared bedroom...

You had cried too, but you were not asleep.

Your eyes were puffy and red, and your cheeks marked with your tears. You seemed surprised, when he came in, and looked at the clock.

It was only midnight ?

“Hello, my love.”

He sat down next to you, and from the way he ran his fingers through your hair, and caressed your cheek, wiping the salty tears from it...You knew he knew.

He knew how devastated you felt. How those simple words that would mean nothing for many, truly wounded you.

He knew how much you loved that boy, how as soon as your eyes laid on his little face that terrible night he lost his parents, you felt like he was going to be your son one day.

He knew how much you’d sacrifice for that kid’s happiness, how far you’d go to keep him safe...And so, how hurtful him telling you you weren’t his real mother must’ve felt.

There was no need for words.

He knew what to do. He laid next to you, and you just cuddled up to him, letting him wrap you up in his warm embrace.

He drew those same soothing circles on your back than he did on Dick’s. And whispered :

“He didn’t mean it. He truly didn’t. He loves you, you know. I love you too.”

You fell asleep to his words of love and reassurance, finally letting go after hours of not being able to sleep, reenacting the terrible scene in your head over and over again, making yourself feel worst each times.

************

You woke up around 4 am, with Bruce’s arms wrapped around you.

He was asleep and escaping his grasp (without Alfred’s help) took you a little bit..but you managed to leave without waking him up.

He did groan a little at the loss of your warmth, and grabbed your pillow to hold it against his chest. Which was extremely cute, and oh how glad you were to be the only one to see this side of him.

You went down to the kitchen and...

Dick was coming from the other door, opposite to the one you took.

The kitchen had three access. Two doors facing each others, and one on the third wall. The door you took was because you got a little lost and did a detour through the drawing room. Dick, however, came from the door you should’ve come from too, which was the one you accessed from the West Wing third corridors, which was directly under your bedroom, and Dick’s.

The boy probably stood up a little after you, and while you got lost in your own home (again), he took the normal way and...

Boom. Here you both were, arriving in the kitchen at the same time.

There was a small silence. Awkward. And...

Your heart tightened.

Dick was sort of cowering backward in fear. Fear of what ?

Oh. But of course.

“He didn’t mean it.”

Bruce whispered to you many times, before you fell asleep. And the way Dick looked at you, worry in his eyes...He was thinking you were mad at him. And the regret in his pupils was as obvious as that fact.

“Ice cream ?”

You ask him. His eyes widen a bit, and you can almost see the gears in his brain trying to piece everything together. You’re...not mad at him ?

Of course you’re not. You felt sad, and lost, and hurt, yes. But never did you feel any hint of anger. Of course not.

You take out his favorite flavor from the freezer, and settle a bowl in front of one of the high stool around the counter.

At that time, Dick was so tiny. A very short little bean. And he’d stay small for a long time, only having a sudden spurt when he was around fifteen.

He climbed onto the stool, and watched you as you gave him some ice cream and a spoon, and then sat down next to him to eat some as well.

The silent was slowly turning less awkward.

Slowly, and unsurely, Dick picked his spoon up and looked at you. And completely missed his mouth, the ice cream spreading on his cheek instead.

You turn around to look at him, ice cream on his cheek, and he’s clearly embarrassed, as a tint of color slowly rises on his face.

You don’t really know why, but something snaps in you and you start laughing. And laughing. And laughing.

Because honestly, the kid missing his mouth as he picked his spoon up full of ice cream, is kinda funny right ? And also, all the tension and stress you felt suddenly broke with this simple, silly thing.

Unsure at first, Dick just looked at you. But your laughter quickly spread to him, and soon enough, you both were bursting out in laughter.

Anyone not knowing what happened, would probably think you were both crazy, laughing that hard for no apparent reasons.

Instinctually, you ruffle his hair and Dick gasps. You really weren’t mad at him ?!

You realized what you did, and slowly, both your laughter subsided. There was a small silence as Dick stared at you, and you stared back, and then :

“I’m-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it !”

He says in a small voice, and he can’t add anything else as you just pick him up and hold him tight against your heart, and you say :

“I know.”

And it’s all he needs to realize you’re not really mad at him, and although he messed up and hurt you, right now, you were both on the path of recovery...

Next morning, Bruce woke up alone in bed, which greatly distressed him as usual (he often woke up first). But a gut feeling was telling him that...

He found you asleep with Dick in his bed, holding him tightly.

************

After that event, you sat down with him, so you could have a serious talk about the underlining issue this raised. Talk about something important.

“Little bird, you know I love you, right ?”

He nods, but still cannot speak quite yet, doesn’t have the energy to.

“I want you to understand something. Something vital. Are you listening ?”

He nods again, his eyes fixed on you. And he’s listening, oh he definitely is.

“It’s ok to be angry. It’s ok to lash out. It’s ok to not be alright. It’s ok to make mistakes.”

He nods, a little slower than before, and you can see his eyes slowly becoming wetter and wetter.

“It’s ok. It really is. I’m here. And I love you. Even when you don’t want me around. Even when you push me away. I’m here. And I always will be. Ok ?”

He nods one last time, unable to hold his tears, and then his little arms latch around you, and he refuses to let go for well over an hour...

Oh. Sweet, sweet boy.

Your son.

************

Even now, at age twenty seven, Dick still often think about this day. And the regrets are as burning as they were back then.

He often thought about it.

Whenever you did something for him, went out of your way to make him happy, or were just there for him, always...

He’d have a flashback of this day, and feel nothing but regret and anger at his younger self.

And then you’d read him like an open book. Know exactly what he was thinking, and would slowly shake your head, and say : “I know I often said that, but I will say it till the day I die if I need to : when you came into my life, you changed everything. And I love all of you little bird. Not just when you’re joking around and smiling. But also when you get angry, and lash out. You are my son. I love all of you. Even when you’re a little bit of a jerk.” and you’d wink at him, making him chuckle and feel a surge of affection toward you.

Kind of like the ones you’d feel sometimes. A sudden urge to hug your family, to tell them what they mean to you. Both you and Dick understood since a long time that with the life you all lead, you never knew what could happen, and should never waste a “I love you” if you felt like saying it.

Well, the apple never fall far from the tree ?

Yes. Because you were his mom. And nothing would ever change his mind on that. Ever.

JASON

"Well Jason, you did it you idiot !”

He says to himself in the mirror, and oh he could’ve punch himself if it was possible. He took his desk chair, and threw it across his bedroom, letting out a scream of frustration.

He went to his desk, and threw everything that was on it on the floor. He then went to his book shelves and...

There. Your book. The one you wrote for him.

Jason fell to his knee, holding his head in his hands, crying softly.

Yes. Yes he did it...He ruined this one chance life gave him to have parents.

He hurt one of the person that meant the most to him, one of the person he loved the most...His mom. You.

Because you were his mom, no matter what he told you, in that moment of anger as you scolded him after he did something dangerous during one of his patrol.

He hadn’t been allowed to go out for long, by then. And Bruce had already scolded him before for the very same thing, so when you did it too, he had enough and...it happened before he could think about it.

He was angry, about the lack of trust and about the sermons, and his brain tried to hurt without even thinking about it. Triggered by years of living in the streets, where he had to think quick and act right away, and then suffer the consequences. If he wasn’t fast enough, it could be the end of him...

A gut reaction triggered by years of being all on his own, having to fend for himself. His brain went into overdrive, “hurt” is what it set into motion.

“You’re not my mom !”

And that was it...

As he saw your face fell, and his father’s face turn angry, he knew. He knew he messed up. He messed everything up, as usual !

“Jason !”

Bruce called, but Jason wasn’t about to stop. He ran out of the cave, right to his bedroom. Oh, oh but if only he stayed a little longer. He’d realize that his father wasn’t angry, just hurt as well.

Hurt to see the woman he loved being hurt.

Not angry. Ah but being in pain could sometimes look like you are mad ? And Bruce hadn't been able to hide his frown as he heard Jason’s words...

“Let him be, Bruce.”

You say in a weak voice. You knew Jason, you knew sometimes he needed to cool down on his own. That he could be impulsive, but always came around.

Ah. But that time, he needed everything but to be alone.

Because, as he thought he ruined his one chance at having a real family, he thought...

“Better to leave before they throw me away !”

He knew he could never bear to face you and Bruce, as you’d certainly tell him you were “un-adopting” him. Jason saw it happened before. Someone thinking their adopted kid was “too much”, and sending them back.

It was awful, of course. But it happened. For real. And Jason knew that life could really suck...But her couldn’t bear to face you as you’d send him away.

Worst, what if you just send Alfred and that was it ?

No. Jason would leave before you could do that. He couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t.

Filling his backpack with some clothes, and snacks, he opened his window and slid down the gutter all the way to the ground, and then ran away into the night. Tears trailing down behind him, as he left behind the one place in which he ever felt safe, warm, and loved.

In the meantime, you and Bruce were unaware of that, and slowly falling asleep in each others’ arms... As usual, Bruce was there for you.

************

“Jason ? I thought I wouldn’t see you anymore after you got adopted by dem fancy fellas. Are you here to get some work ?”

“No.”

“Really, why did you come then ?”

“I didn’t, I’m just passing by.”

“Nah, don’t believe it. Once a bad boy, always a bad boy !”

“TAKE IT BACK !”

As he ran away, Jason went back to a place he thought he never would need to. A few intricate alleys, in the Bowery, under the main city.

The Bowery, a filthy underground neighborhood, hell on Earth for many. Although things did improve when Batman started his work a few years back.

“Wow there tiger, relax.”

Jason came in this specific area for only one thing. Retrieve a few items he left behind, thinking he would never need it again because he was leaving behind this life.

He had a hideout, not far. In which he hid some materials to survive in the streets. He thought he probably had to go back to stealing cars’ tires...Although maybe he should change it. Thinking of what happened last time he did this hurt his heart.

He knew that next time he’d get caught stealing tires, the person wouldn’t end up adopting him...Anyway, he didn’t want any other parents but you and Bruce.

And he messed that up so bad, by being so mean to you !

“Listen, it’s not because you got all fancy schmancy that you can talk to me like that. Remember who’s boss in this part of town.”

Batman did a lot of good to the city, but also, by getting rid of some big players in the “crime business”, he allowed small time thugs to climb up the ladders...It felt, at times, like there always was someone to replace whoever Bruce just put behind bars...

The man who was talking to Jason, used to be a small time criminal. Turned boss, when the Batman kept arresting all the people above him. Jason used to “work” for him, bringing him watches or jewelry that he’d exchange against cash.

Damn. He never thought he’d ever see him again... Oh and he definitely didn’t think this through.

As the new boss, who’s name was Johnny Clancy, told him that he’d forever be a “bad boy”, Jason saw red and...getting mad at a crime boss was a bad idea.

Before he could even think about an escape plan, Jason was surrounded by dangerous armed men.

“How dare you talk to me like that ? Mmm. The Waynes adopted you right ? Mmm. They’re loaded. Probably would pay a fortune to get you back uh ? And to think they’re gonna give me a lot of cash to get a little runaway brat back haha. Because that’s what you did right ? You ran away ? As you always did before mm ? You know, I observed you Jason Todd. I saw you run away from anyone getting close. I saw you.”

Jason’s heart didn’t need anyone to push and squiggle the knife he felt in around some more. He had just lost his family. Did he need more reminder that he always fucked up ?!

“They won’t give you any money, they don’t want me anymore...”

But Johnny didn’t believe him, of course. He told two of his thugs to grab the boy, but Jason, by instinct, dropped them to the floor with a few well placed kicks and punches.

And that was enough to unleash Johnny Clancy’s wrath.

See, he was a new boss. He had to assert dominance. And an eight years old kid making a fool of him and his gang ? That wouldn’t go.

So what if he had to off a child ? Anything to keep climbing up, and leave the Bowery’s slums.

************

“Have you seen Jason ?”

Bruce asks you, a few hours after your fight with him.

“What ? No, I thought he was with you ?”

“No, he skipped his training and I thought he might be with you, apologizing for what he said yesterday ? You know, sounds like something he would do.”

“I haven’t seen him since, you know. I thought he was avoiding me...”

“He would never.”

“Bruce...”

“He would never, my love. I know what he said hurt you, but I’m sure he’s regretting it right now. You should go see him, he’s probably sulking in his bedroom. I wouldn’t be surprised if you meet him up the stairs as he comes down to say sorry.”

“Bruce...”

Your husband comes to you, and takes your hands in his.

“You know him. He’s impulsive, and a little abrasive sometimes. But he’s a sweet child. And he regrets his bursts, you know it. Tonight was just tough, we both scolded him, he’s not used to it.”

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am, I’m-”

“I swear to God if you say “I’m Batman” I’m going to smack you.”

Bruce smiles softly at you, glad he managed to at least made the tension go away a little. He pecks your lips quickly, and watches you as you leave to go to your son’s bedroom.

He was about to go down the Batcave, when you came back, panicked :

“He’s gone ! Jason’s gone !”

Ah. Bruce knew that placing a tracker in his children’s molars was a good idea.

************

“HOW HARD IS IT TO CATCH A FUCKING KID ?!”

Jason runs as fast as he can, without looking back. He managed to break the line of thugs coming at him, and escape in-between to of them who didn’t pull their guns out quite yet.

They were shooting at him. With no hesitation.

Johnny was set on proving he was an unscrupulous boss. To earn everyone’s respect. So what if he had to shoot a kid ? It’d send everyone a message. He’d back off from nothing !

Jason turned in an alley and...Damn it ! He must’ve taken a wrong turn at some point, it had been a while, since he roamed the Bowery’s alleyways...

He was faced by a wall, stuck. And they quickly caught up to him.

“Wooouh, you’re fast kid. And you’re sneaky. Too bad you’re such a brat, I bet you could be a nice addition to our-”

Johnny Clancy never finished his sentence. In fact, he never could properly speak after that night. After getting his jaw broken into a thousand pieces by the Batman’s fist.

Bruce had come down from nowhere, with...you in his arms ?!

This was the first time Jason saw you wear the costume he saw a few times in the Batcave. He thought you wore it only to go to the JLA’s watchtower, to hide your identity. Not that you could actually...fight ?!

And wow, you definitely could hold your own ! You made a few disarming pass, taking the guns away from all the men before they could even react, and letting Bruce finish them off with well placed kicks and punches.

Oh and that night, the Batman unleashed his rage and unforgiveness full force. How dare they touch his son ?!

You didn’t have anything to envy from your husband either, however, as you worked through Johnny’s gang rather fast too.

That night, the both of you exterminated (figure of speech, of course, neither of you ever killed, that was the one big rule...but there were never a rule against breaking a few bones) Johnny Clancy’s gang, who dared to even think of hurting your precious son.

Jason, holding his backpack tight against him, couldn’t believe his eyes. You two came to save him ? But...why ?

He messed up. You’d surely not want him around anymore !

Once Bruce dropped the last man, you rushed to Jason and before he could utter a sound, took him in your arms.

“Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re safe baby, I’m so glad you’re...”

Your voice broke at the end, and you chocked, the emotions too strong and squeezing your throat.

Jason didn’t understand. And through his surprise, he managed to say :

“I thought-I thought you’d never want to see me again, and that you wouldn’t want to be my mom anymore.”

You hold him even tighter, as you feel Bruce get down on his knee and bring the both of you in his arms.

“Oh sweety, never. Never.”

You say, not letting go.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...”

Your son manage to choke out, before sobbing profusely and holding on to you and Bruce.

“I’m just glad you’re safe...it’s ok, it’s ok it’s already forgotten...”

And it was. As soon as you saw that Jason-That your SON, was missing, you forgot he ever told you “you’re not my mom”. You forgot and it truly didn’t matter anymore, as all you cared about was to find him, and make sure he was safe.

“Jason, oh my little Jason, I’m so glad you’re safe...”

Wether it is a conscious things or not, he returns your embrace fiercely, holding tightly as he looks up at you. It almost feels like he wants to make sure you really are there. And won’t go anywhere. Like everyone else did in his life.

Jason was tired of losing those close to him. Those he cared about. Sometimes, he’d push them away, by fear of getting attached again just for life to rip them away from him. So he held onto you, as you held him back.

Tightly against your heart.

“Mom...”

This was the day Jason Todd realized something very important : He wasn’t alone anymore. He had parents who loved him, and he loved them back.

So much.

And they’d never let him go. Never.

************

Years later, this love he had for you and Bruce, turned out to be the very reason he became “Red Hood”.

From that day he told you : “you’re not my real mom !”, he felt like he belonged. Like finally, the people he loved loved him back. Like he was cherished. And then Bruce didn’t avenge him. He let Joker get away. And you let him do it. You, the people he trusted and loved most in the world, betrayed him...

He felt like he wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth Bruce breaking his one rule to avenge him. He wasn’t worth it...He didn’t matter enough.

Jason felt so angry. For years. He wanted to hurt you, to hurt Bruce. To show you what it felt like. What HE felt like.

But Jason has always been a strong one. You knew it. You told him enough times : “you’re a fighter, my Jason. You went through so much, and always came out of it. You lost a lot on the way my little one, but you never give up. You never give up...”

You never give up.

Love.

It’s what drove him to become the Red Hood. It’s what drove him over the edge. What gave him so much pain.

Rather, the feeling of not being loved. The thought all you and Bruce said to him, about how much you cared and loved him, was a lie.

Yes. The thought that you lied about loving him, is what broke him. What made him find every way possible to truly, truly hurt you two.

You never give up.

He was so angry. But he never could quite give up on his family...that’s why he didn’t stay with the Al’ghuls. That why they didn’t keep him.

He could never forget you and Bruce. Move on.

He could never.

Jason was a strong lad. Strong enough to see past his hate and need of revenge. His pain. His deep trauma.

It took a while. But the change came from him. He’s the one that gave you another chance. And it allowed him to realize...nothing was a lie.

And you got your son back.

Because you showed him. You showed him nothing was a lie.

When his dad never gave up on him even as he killed more and more people, and even as Jason saw him completely erase people who used to be close from him as soon as they killed once. When you refused to let him go. When Bruce kept going back, even as he knew Jason would fight him and try to hurt him. When you pleaded with him, even when you knew his answer would be the same...

Jason never gave up.

But you didn’t either.

“You’re not my mom”, are words he never meant. Not even once. Not even when he was the “old” Red Hood, the one that killed mercilessly any criminals, and that was trying to be exactly what Batman wasn’t.

“You’re not my mom”, even at his worst, at a time he suffered greatly, Jason never meant it. He never did.

And ultimately, it’s this filial love, and the love you and Bruce had for him, that brought him back out of the dark pit the Joker pushed him in...

TIM

Tim knew that his overly pragmatic mind sometimes could make him sound tactless. That he had trouble, sometimes, expressing himself properly.

He knew that what he said, although it could be the factual truth, could be perceived as not being very nice...

He knew, yet sometimes, he couldn’t help himself.

“But you’re not my mom.”

He told you that day, as you asked when was the “mother/child day” at school.

Tim’s school had a day each year, during which every mother would come and do different activities with their kids. You did it with Dick and Jason, and it was always great fun, and amazing bonding time.

By then, Tim had been with you and Bruce for over a year now. And he did, see you as his mom. However, he was a little too set, at the time, on rules and specifics. In the “mother/child day” rulebook, it “specifically” said that the actual child’s mother had to come, not the nanny or anyone else.

In Tim’s mind, although he did see you as his mom, he thought the school wouldn’t. For him, the way the rules were written, were clearly stating his birth mother had to come. And the official adoption papers were not processed yet. Those took quite a while.

He had been living with you for over a year. He called you and Bruce “mom and dad”. He truly considered you two his parents. But the official papers were not done quite yet. So to him, in the eye of the law (be it a silly school rule), you weren’t his mom quite yet.

So when he said : “but you’re not my mom”, that’s what he meant. Of course, you misunderstood...

How could you guess that Tim was thinking that only his “birth mother” could take him, because officially right now he didn’t have a mom, just “guardians”...

His mother was dead. Has been dead for a while, now. And even if she wasn’t, Tim knew she’d never come at this event...She wasn’t the caring type of mother. Not like you. Which is why it really bummed him out that those rules were so clearly stated like that !

What Tim misunderstood, is that this specific rule had been added to the rulebook because many family would send their nanny, or a big sister, instead of the mom. Because Tim was of course in Gotham’s Academy, full of rich families, in which the moms were very busy...

Which is why such a day existed. Some kids spend quality times with their mom only on this school day. Nowadays, everyone made an effort to come (the fact you appeared, the famed (Y/N) Wayne, a few years back, with Dick, and it made all the papers’ headlines, might’ve influenced others to participate too).

To tell the truth, Tim was very disappointed that you couldn’t go with him, and was considering asking the principle of the school to do an exception to the rule and allow you to go with him.

He was already fomenting a plan in his head to convince the headmaster to let you come as his mom, and as usual when he was planning things out, he completely disconnected from reality.

And therefor, didn’t see how your face “closed”, and your eyes turned sad. The boy was typing away on his computer, as if nothing had just happened, as if you didn’t feel your world crumble as he flat out told you you weren’t his mom...

Of course, it was all a misunderstanding. He meant it as “officially”. Not about his actual feelings.

For some reason, the way he said it so nonchalantly hurts you more than when Dick and Jason yelled at you that you “weren't their mom”. Because at least, in your eldests’ cases, you knew it was in the heat of the moment.

That it was because they felt frustrated and sad.

But Tim just told you : “But you’re not my mom.” matter of factly, and moved on. And it hurt.

It hurt so much, because that boy...You loved that boy, of course. And considered him your son for sure. Part of your heart, now. Part of your family. And he felt so far, right now...so far...

You left the room and he didn’t even notice.

Did he really not see you as his mom ? Was he just calling you “mom” to imitate his brothers ? ...You didn’t know, but it hurt.

It hurt so much.

************

You found Bruce in his office, doing some paperworks for Wayne Inc. When he saw your face, he immediately smiled, your presence lighting his whole world...But then he saw your expression, and he frowned.

“What happened ?”

************

“Mom ? MooOOooom ?”

Tim had been looking for you for the past hour, but wasn’t able to find you. You weren't in all your favorite places ! Did you leave the Manor without telling him ? It was unlike you.

Finally, he found you. You were in a room that was rarely used, but which was conveniently close to Bruce’s office, and had a couch.

Laying on top of your husband, you were fast asleep as Bruce was going through his paperworks, letting you holding onto his waist as he kept working.

When he saw the boy come in the room, he smiled at him. And it was hard, not to smile at Tim, seeing his own big wide smile.

Tim was missing a few teeth, that fell not long ago, and it was absolutely the cutest, when he smiled widely. He looked so happy, eyes sparkly and genuine smile. It felt wrong to Bruce, to think that this sweet boy didn’t see you as his mom...

Maybe it was all a misunderstanding ? Wouldn’t be the first time. Although, Bruce knew how sometimes Tim could be brutally honest, and say the facts in a matter of factly way that could be very harsh on the uninitiated.

Your son was holding a cardboard sheet almost as big as him, and looked very excited about something. He slowly approached you two, and said, whispering, yet the excitement was clear in his voice :

“Has she been asleep for long, dad ?!”

He called Bruce dad. Without an hesitation. And it felt so genuine. Like he was relishing in the word rolling off of his tongue. And it was often the case, with Tim. His parents, when they were still alive, never really noticed his presence...

And sometimes, it could be even worst to have parents who acted as if you didn’t exist, than caring parents who passed away. Bruce realized this.

“No, she just closed her eyes.”

Bruce answers, looking at you. And oh he couldn’t possibly know how soft his expressions as as he gazed at your sleeping face.

“Oh...”

Tim was clearly disappointed. His shoulders fell down, and he looked on the floor, looking defeated.

“What is it, champ ?”

“Well, I wanted her to-Oh ! Mom !”

The rumbling of your husband’s chest as he spoke is what woke you up. Not the actual sound of their voices, just that low vibrations reverberating in his chest.

You opened one eye, then the second, and was greeted by your youngest son’s face being very close to you. As Tim saw you were waking up, he kneeled down next to the couch, settling his piece of cardboard next to him, and approached you very closely.

His smile and sweet expression filled your vision. And you felt even more hurt, as you saw him so happy to see you, to know he didn’t really think you were his mom.

It was clear he cared for you. And loved you, and being with you. But to him...You weren’t his mom. And that was so painful.

“I got a plan mom, I got a plan !”

A...Plan ? For what ? You don’t even have time to ask him, and, still a little hazy as you just woke up from a short nap (that you took after crying exhausted you), you raise a little from your husband.

You exchange a curious look with him, as you see Tim spring to his feet and get a hold of the piece of cardboard that is almost as tall and large as him.

He turns it around and...

Your heart drops.

It’s a lot of very detailed drawings, maps and words about...about...

“This is how we’re going to convince the headmaster of my school that you’re really my mom, even if officially you’re not yet !! I thought we could start with logic first, and then go down the path of pathos if he really doesn’t change his mind !”

What ? Your brain is trying really hard to comprehend what’s happening, although it is starting to put two and two together.

“The rules say that the mom HAS to be the one who comes, and the way they wrote it suggest that they wouldn’t accept someone who isn’t yet official. But I think we could convince that, in our heart, we’re already an official family, right ?!”

Tim looks at you, and then at his dad, a little worry in his eyes (what if for them, he wasn’t their son yet because the paperworks weren’t finished and officials quite yet ?!?!). Bruce cannot help but smile, and nods, feeling his heart melt (a rare occurrence).

And you. You have exactly the reaction he expected you’d have. You sit up, put the cardboard aside, and drag your son into a tight hug that makes him giggle and exclaim :

“Hahaha mom wait I can’t breaaaathe !! Mom !!”

But he hugs you back, knowing that this means yes, you do consider him your son already, paperworks or not, and you will probably follow his plan to convince the school to-

“Mom ? Why are you crying ? Mom ?”

You can’t explain it to him. You feel silly, but also so emotional and touched. You thought he didn’t think of you as his mom. But he did. Oh he did, and was actually worried about technicalities of rules and...So sweet. That boy is so sweet.

Carefully, Tim dries your tears, and look curiously at his dad, his eyes clearly asking : “Did I do something wrong ?”

You’re still unable to speak, as you hold onto him, and Bruce ruffles his son’s hair saying :

“She’s just too happy, champ. She’s just too happy.”

CASSANDRA

"You, not my mom !”

She screamed. You never heard Cass raised her voice before. And yet, here, she screamed at you. And then closed her bedroom door right on your nose.

And you felt it in your heart. That specific pain that you wished you’d never feel again. That kind of hurt you wished you’d never feel ever again.

It happened just liked it did with Dick and Jason. You were “lecturing” her about putting herself in needless danger, and she felt frustrated at the fact you “didn’t trust her”.

It wasn’t true of course. You did trust her. And you knew she could hold her own. Didn’t mean you wouldn’t worry, and scold her if she really scared you...

It was pure instinct. You couldn’t stop yourself from telling them off when you felt they went too far. You did it with Bruce too.

Once, he threw himself in the way of a bullet to save you, and once he recovered enough...Oh you were so mad at him.

It’s not that you wanted to take that bullet, of course. You knew it was also instinct that made him move to save you. But in truth, you would rather take a thousand bullet than lose any of them. Bruce, or your children.

And sometimes, it was hard for them to understand this. To get why you were so worried, when you accepted fully their night activities.

Why you monitored the batcomputer, if it was to scold them when they put themselves in danger ?

Ah but they didn’t understand that you only got “mad” when they put themselves in NEEDLESS danger. Pushing themselves too far that one night, being careless with something, ignoring their own safety to finish a task...

You couldn’t help but be afraid. And your fear turned into you scolding them. And sometimes, on each sides, things boiled and...

“You, not my mom !”

The meaning was clear. As Cass slammed her door right in your face, you knew not to push it further, not to tell her anything more.

Maybe you should’ve ? Should’ve open her door, and continue lecturing her so she’d understand her life was valuable ?

Cass put herself in danger more than any other member of your family, because she was raised as a weapon and thought of herself as an “expendable”. You weren’t mad at her for this, of course not (but oh, David Cain probably should never cross your path, it wasn’t pretty, when you were truly angry).

You were just worried. And unfortunately, being a parent was complicated and sometimes, your worry turned a little overbearing for your kids.

This was a mistake every normal caring parents made. Wanting what was best for their children, sometimes not realizing they’re going too far. And you ? Your family wasn’t normal.

Your children were vigilantes. Your worries were tuned up to the max.

Being a parent was hard. And sometimes, both you and your kids were frustrated. It happened. In any family.

It was resolved rather fast, most of the time. A little conversation, understanding and indulgence, and boom. Sorted.

However, there were times when things would go a little too far. Wether because one of you was tired, or didn’t feel well etc etc...

Tonight, was such a time.

“You, not my mom !”

Cass didn’t even register what she said. She was just mad and frustrated, and said the first thing that came into her mind. Her hand slammed the door shut before she could even think about it.

And here you were. In the corridor. In front of your daughter’s door.

Hurt. And feeling as devastated as you did when her brothers told you the same thing. You would think, after a few times of this happening, it’d be easier, right ? Well. No. It wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

As usual in those instances, you went to seek comfort in the arms of your husband.

************

Cassandra didn’t feel ok.

In fact, she felt absolutely terrible.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she felt that bad.

When she went to look for you and apologize for her behavior, she found you in her dad’s arms, crying, and it made her run away...

She couldn’t face you, knowing she truly hurt you like that.

The worst thing is, she knew she would hurt you by saying those words. Yet she still did it. It was as if she couldn’t control herself. It was like an ugly force took over her, and made her say those words.

But she knew. She knew she’s the one who ultimately decided to say them. She’s the one that pronounced them. Under the anger.

Anger.

The ugly force.

She turned around in her bed, holding onto the plush toy you gave her shortly after her arrival. You said “every child should have one” and that this one made you think of her.

It was a fox with bright colors. And it still smelled like you.

She was about to fall asleep, when she heard a knock on her door.

“Can we come in ?”

It was her older brothers.

Dick, Jason and Tim.

It was rare, to have them all in the same place nowadays, what with how busy they all were. Dick with Bludhäven, Jason with the gods only knew what really (the gods, and you and Bruce...but sshhh, that’s a secret), and Tim with college applications.

So Cass immediately understood that they heard about the fight she had with their mom.

And she felt a rush of shame come over her. She felt sad too, because maybe they’d be mad at her ?

Cassandra didn’t think she could bear to break your heart, and have her precious brothers mad at her all in the same day.

She almost told them to leave. But she didn’t have the strength.

They surrounded her, and their presence was so...soothing.

And then they spoke. They each told her the story of the time they told their mom those few dreaded words.

“You’re not my real mom !”

They told her how awful they felt, and how they knew they hurt their mom. They told her that...well, they did have the best mom ever.

You never held any grudge. Ever. Especially not against your own family.

You never even mentioned again the fact they told you this awful thing, you never even mentioned once this, under any circumstances.

Her brothers stayed with her for hours, talking about their feelings on the matter. Telling her it happened. That everyone wasn’t always on their best behavior...

It was hard, for Cass, to not be “good”. She did so many awful things when her biological father raised her to be a weapon, she felt like she had to catch up so much on those years of “badness”.

She often felt like she was evil, and could never caught up to everything. Like she was doomed, and could never become good.

On that, Jason told her she was wrong. That everyone could change, and no one was born truly evil. Environment, and the way you’re raised, matter. And what she did...wasn’t her fault. She was forced to. If she really enjoyed doing this she’d never become a Batgirl. She would never be part of this family.

She often felt like she was a bad daughter.

On that, Dick told her she was wrong. He too, felt like a bad son, when he “replaced” his parents with you and Bruce. He too, felt like a bad son when he would get so mad while you would do anything to make him happy. He too, felt like a bad son...on so many occasions. But he grew. And thanks to you mainly, he realized he was just human. Mistakes are human. And it’s not being a bad son, to sometimes feel so hurt that you lash out. That your trauma are so strong, things sometimes are tough.

She often felt like she couldn’t fit in, and would never fit in.

On that, Tim told her she was wrong. Him too, felt too different. He already had parents, they were alive, he just wanted to help, he didn’t have any friends...But in this family. In this family, everyone fitted in. Because you made it so. Bruce made it saw. You both accepted any flaws, and differences your kids might have. You loved them unconditionally, they all knew that by now.

And Cass...Cass didn’t want to hurt you.

They knew that, too.

It was an accident. In the heat of the moment. She didn’t mean it. Of course, you are her mom. Of course...

It felt good, to have her brothers there for her, when you couldn’t be.

************

Later that night, after her brothers left, Cass slowly exits her room and take the known way to yours and Bruce’s.

You are both there, and she knows her dad stayed because you felt bad. He always stayed with you, when you were feeling down. And vice versa.

Cass always told herself that, later, if she ever found a significant other, she’d want her and them to have the same kind of relationships than you. You and Bruce set up a rather high standard for whoever would come into her life.

But that was another story. For now, she was opening the door slowly, scared of waking you up. But you were awake.

Bruce was asleep, deeply. As usual when he felt your warmth against him. But you were not. Cass could see you slowly and absentmindedly caress your husband’s hair. It was soothing to both of you. His silky smooth dark hair were soft in between your fingers, and helped you get your mind off of the pain and focus on the sensation, while for him...Well, it put him asleep, when you did that.

The door creaked a little, and you abruptly turned your head towards it, ready to fight and...You instantly recognize your daughter, even in the dark of the room.

She doesn’t need to talk. You manage to roll over Bruce, who then by instinct roll too, and therefor you create a little spot for your daughter to climb in bed with you.

You turn around in Bruce’s arms, and slowly wrap them around your middle, instead of your shoulders. You turn towards Cass, your back against Bruce’s chest, and tap the small spot you managed to create next to you.

Cass understands, and climbs in, facing you. She lays her head on her arms, as you do the same. And then she mouthes :

“Sorry mom...”

And that’s all you needed. You gesture for your daughter to cuddle up close, and she does. By instinct, Bruce lets go one arm off of you, and grabs his kid to bring her closer. He is still asleep, but it wouldn’t surprise anyone that his subconscious holds onto the two most important women in his life like so.

And there she is. Cass feels safe. And warm. And she hears your heart beat softly. And she knows it partly beats for her.

And partly for Bruce. And partly for Dick. And partly for Jason. And Tim. And Damian. And Duke. And Alfred.

It beats for your family.

For her family.

Family.

She has a family.

And you are her mom.

Her biological father never hugged her, never told her everything was going to be alright, never...

Cass never felt safe and warm.

Like she did, right now, held by both you and Bruce.

“Family...”

She whispers, as she slowly falls asleep. And you’re the only mom she ever wants to have. You are, her real mom. Always have been, always will be.

DAMIAN

Damian didn’t really think this was a big deal, at first.

Just like his father, he often made the mistake to think that people around him will simply understand his true meaning.

When he told you : “You’re not even my real mom !”, he obviously didn’t mean it. He was angry because you told him he couldn’t go out on patrol for a few days, as he was grounded for skipping school and going to work on cases instead.

“But school is boring, I already know everything ??”

“It’s the principle of it, Damian. You can’t just do what you want whenever you want, this is not how it works. I don’t feel like we’re extremely strict parents, so when you betray our trusts like that, it has consequences.”

Bruce kept out of the argument, ready to jump in however if you needed him to affirm that yes, actions have consequences and although you two are pretty lax with your son on many fronts, he still has to listen. You and Bruce made clear rules when you first adopted Dick, because you realized your lifestyle was anything but normal, but it didn’t mean your children could just do anything they wanted.

Neither of you wanted them to turn into privileged little brats. Or to think they were above everything. And you were right, by skipping school so much, and lying about it, Damian did betray your trust.

Understanding actions had consequences was a big step that took a while, with Damian. Unfortunately, he grew up in an environment that indeed taught him he could do whatever he wanted, no matter if he hurt people on the way...

Unlearning all this, was tough. And you understood that. Which is why you let things go a lot, with him, and only slowly told him about things. Gradually teaching him about your values and principles.

However sometimes, like in this case, you needed to be firm and strict, because otherwise he’d just keep doing it knowing it had no bad consequences, and you didn’t want him to simply not go to school anymore...School was important for his social development, you realized it as he made friends and...

And simply, an eleven years old kid couldn’t just roam around all day as he saw fit. That’s it. And so here you were, trying to explain this to him. And that’s when he said it.

He scrunched up his nose like he always did when he was angry, and then, turning his head away from you, throwing his Robin boots at the back of the cave.

“You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not even my real mom !”

And then he bolted out of the Batcave, leaving you behind, with a broken heart and feeling guilty...What if he hates you, because you were too harsh on him ?

Bruce, that night, did not go out on patrol either, and stayed with you. Of course, he did.

************

The fact he still listened to you and didn’t go out, made him thought you knew he was just angry and didn’t mean a word of it.

To him, it was so obvious he thought of you as his mom, and that he said this just because he wanted to have the last word, that he honestly didn’t think much of it.

Sure he was frustrated and angry, just like any kid was when their parents said : “no” to them. But he didn't mean it...

He didn’t really see you of the entire day. Finally, he decided to go see his father to ask him what was up.

“Father ?”

“Yes ?”

“Is-is mom ok ?”

“Well, what do you think ?”

“She doesn’t seem ok.”

“Do you know why ?”

“Did you do something to upset her ?”

Normally, Bruce would feel vex at this statement. What, did he really do things to upset you that often ? Yes and now. Sometimes, he would get on your nerve, and vice versa. It happened, in relationships.

But it was never anything major. Not anymore at least. Because now, when he had his “dark days” and could be a total jerk, you knew how to handle him. You knew not to take his bullshit.

Yes. Normally, Bruce would pout like a child, at the fact his son thought that his mom was feeling down because of him. But not today. No.

Because he knew that what made you sad, was something important.

Unfortunately, Damian inherited from him his bad habit of thinking others will understand his meaning.

Like, when he tried to push you away at first so you wouldn't get involved in his crazy life, what he really wanted was for you to get closer...Or when he told you that he was fine at times, all he wanted was for you to hold him and take care of him etc etc...The first time he told you “I love you”, wasn’t with words, but by not going on patrol one night, to stay with you. And he thought you’d immediately understand that he truly loved you...Truth was, it wasn’t as obvious to you (or anyone really) than it was for him.

And Damian had the same problem. Doing things that he thought would obviously tell his meaning, his real feelings, when really...No one but him would get it.

Although you became quite good at deciphering your husband’s true intentions, you could still misinterpret things sometimes.

And yesterday night, when you grounded your son and tried to teach him a life lesson...You definitely didn’t see that he didn’t mean what he said and just wanted the last word. For you, he was seriously meaning it. And that’s why you were avoiding him a little, because it was too hard to...to...

Damian’s words truly hurt you. You often were scared he could never see you as his mom (even if he did call you mom now and clearly cared for you) because of how he grew up. You’d never give up on him, of course, but it didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt when he pushed you away or pretended to not care...

Damian thought it was obvious, that his actions actually reflected how much you meant to him. That without you, he’d be lost and honestly wouldn’t want to live in a world where you weren’t.

But it wasn’t obvious.

Bruce sighed, and then smiled :

“Since when is she acting odd ?”

“This morning. She didn’t kiss me goodbye when she went to work !”

It felt like such a serious issue to your boy, in that instant, that Bruce wished you were there to see his reaction. You’d instantly know he didn’t mean it, when he said you weren’t his mom...

But you couldn’t quite face him. You didn’t really avoid him or try to hurt him by not saying goodbye. Of course not, you were an adult, and you definitely knew that doing to others what was done to you is pointless, and mean. And why hurt someone the same way they hurt you ? You’re no better than them uh...

“Can you think of anything that might’ve upset her ?”

“I spilled my milk a little, but cleaned it after. I didn’t let Alfred do it like last time. I woke up a minute late, too. Jason hasn’t called in two days, but he was there yesterday afternoon. Dick said she messed up her pumpkin soup but he was just joking and she knows. Tim fell asleep at the breakfast table. You clinging to her this morning apparently made her late, I heard Alfred say it. Um...Cass um...Cass didn’t do anything bad really...None of those things sound like it would upset her though ! She really looked sad this morning, not like herself at all !”

Bruce couldn’t help but smile. It was pretty cute, how Damian often acted as if he didn’t care about anything, yet no details would ever go past him. Especially not when it came to his family. He always noticed, when one of them felt down in any way, and tried to help (in his own way).

Hell, he probably woke Tim up and told him to sleep more and take care of himself. Called Jason and told him to call his mom. Scolded Dick to not make this kind of jokes again.

This was just the Damian that was privy only to them. A sweet child, who unfortunately often had trouble expressing his true feelings.

Just like his father.

Damian would often brag about his siblings, and how awesome they were, to his friends (notably to Jon, who didn’t have any siblings). But he’d never tell them right in front of their face.

Bruce tried to help Damian see what was wrong, and said :

“What about last night ?”

“Ugh ? What about last n-OH !”

Damian replayed the events in his head, and remembered his anger and frustration. But most importantly...What he told his mom.

“I have to find mom ! Where is she ?!”

Damian looked absolutely panicked, which was quite unlike him. Bruce answered :

“She’s at work, she had a meeting with her editor. She should be back soon, though.”

And on that note, Damian ran out to do god knew what, as Bruce shook his head and...Well, he just knew things would turn out alright.

************

Alfred almost fainted, when he saw Damian tear off his beautiful flowers from his garden. He almost ran out, and had a very “get off my lawn !” moment...up until he realized that the boy was probably doing this for a reason.

Oh. Oh his poor lilies.

Hopefully, this really was for a good reason. A very good one. One so good, that it would stop him from strangling his grandkid, hopefully...

************

When you came home, Damian was waiting for you at the front door. He had a bunch of lilies in his hands (that you were pretty sure were from Alfred’s precious garden) and he looked absolutely frantic.

He ran to you, almost threw the flowers in your arms, and yelled :

“I’M SORRY I DIDN’T MEAN IT !! YOU ARE MY REAL MOM ! I WAS JUST ANGRY ! I’M SORRY !!”

You were a little confused as to why he was yelling, but before you could continue he took a drawing out of his pocket and added :

“THIS IS A DRAWING OF YOU ! I MADE IT FOR YOU !! YOU ARE MY MOM ! YOU REALLY ARE ! PLEASE FORGIVE ME !! I’M SORRY !! DO NOT BE MAD AT ME !!”

Still confused as to why he was screaming, you bend down to look at him eye level, settled the flowers on the floor, and said :

“It’s ok Damian. It’s ok. We all get frustrated sometimes...I won’t lie and say it didn’t hurt, but it’s ok. It happens.”

Damian’s face showed great relief, and he leaped into your arms, yelling :

“I LOVE YOU !!”

You winced as he screamed in your ear, and said :

“Why are you yelling, little one ?”

Damian took a step back from you and said :

“BECAUSE I HAVE TROUBLE EXPRESSING MYSELF AND JASON TOLD ME THAT SAYING THINGS IN AN AGGRESSIVE WAY MIGHT HELP !! AND HE’S RIGHT !! I LOVE YOU !!”

Damian told you he loved you before, in certain moments. When he got really hurt, when you were really hurt, if he felt really sad...It was always a moment full of emotions. And it was still rather hard for him to say the words.

It didn’t really surprise you that Jason would have such a technique. Yelling his feelings. Yep. Sounds like him alright. And it did seem like it worked for his little brother too.

Only you and your close family would know, because you were the only ones to truly know him, but those two were more similar than others would think. And it wasn’t because they already killed before. Oh no. On the contrary.

“I love you too, my little one...”

You say, as he goes back for another hug, clearly relieved you’re not mad at him. From this day on, he swore to himself that he would really try to tell others’ what he truly felt, even if it meant yelling it at them. Because other wise...otherwise it’d create this sort of terrible situations, in which his mom thought he didn’t think of her as his mom !

He couldn’t have it, anymore. Many “I LOVE YOU !!” were heard in the Manor, from that point on.

DUKE

“You know you can tell me anything, right ?”

Duke doesn’t know why this time, this made him snap.

Today was the anniversary of when his parents got “jokerize”, it had been two years already...And not one step closer to cure them ! He was so frustrated, sad, and lost. And you noticed.

Duke tend to try to keep things inside. Not that he didn’t want to bother anyone, more like he just thought he HAD to handle things himself. Like it would make him stronger, and therefor, he could protect those he cares about.

He could protect them, unlike when he could do nothing but watch as his parents fell into madness...He couldn’t bear the thought of this happening to you, Bruce, or any member of this family ! Not again.

He couldn’t bear it...

“You’re not even my mom ! Stop acting like you are !”

Are the words he heard himself scream at you as you asked him if everything was ok, and if he needed to talk. As you were caring, once again, and he just couldn’t...he couldn’t stand it ! Not today.

Not today.

He immediately saw on your face the way you shut down, and took one step behind. The way your face “closed”, and as you said : “I understand.” and left the room, your body stiff and your face inexpressive (which was very unlike you), Duke felt it.

The guilt.

Right away.

When those dreaded words were said by all your other kids, they were young. They were all under the age of ten, and the immediate consequences of their actions didn’t truly registered.

But Duke.

Duke was almost eighteen. And he knew. He knew he hurt you.

He felt the need to run after you and apologized, but there was something stopping him.

After all, it was true right, you weren’t his mom ! His mom was still alive, and she could be cured one day ! HE ALREADY HAVE A MOM !

So what if you always cooked him his favorite meal, or knew exactly what his favorite food was ? So what if you would go out of your way to grab his favorite burger from his favorite joints when you knew he felt down ?

So what, if you were always there when he was sad ? Cheering him up with comfort food, kind words, and just your presence ?

So what if you knew exactly what would make him feel better, which movie to put on to put a smile on his face ?

So what, if you spend entire night right by his bedside when he got really hurt, or when he was sick ?

So what if you’d listen to him at any time of the day or night, and always took time to give him your thoughts on the matter, and truly, truly listen to what he was saying instead of waiting for your turn to speak ?

So what if you’d make him laugh, smile, feel loved, even as he felt so alone and isolated, especially after he discovered his powers ?

So what if you never made him feel like he was different because of it ?

So what if you opened your house’s door without a second thought for this unknown teenager who was also a meta ?!

So what...so what...so what if you obviously cared a lot, and if you...if you...

He already had a mom. And she might get better one day.

He couldn’t have two moms.

...

Right ?

What would happen when his parents would be cured ? Forget all his feelings for the Waynes ? So it’d be easier to pretend he wasn’t part of the family, right ?

It would be easier.

Yes.

But it was too late.

It was too late...

He ran after you. Caught up with you in the corridor. Tears in his eyes, he said :

“I’m sorry, please don’t go...”

And fell into your arms. Almost eighteen years old, yes, but still needed the support of a mother. Of his mother.

And you were there. You’d always be there, no matter what happened in the future. And he needed you, especially in that moment of frustration, where he really missed his parents, and was starting to lose hope to ever find a cure...

And you were there.

Who ever made a rule that you could have only one mom anyway, right ?

BRUCE

They did tell him “you’re not my dad !” too. And for him, it was as terrible as for you. If not worst, on certain aspect. Especially since he had a hard times truly expressing his feelings more often than not.

He knows how devastating it can feel. He knows it even more, because not only did he feel it as they told him “you’re not my dad !”, but he also felt it as he told Alfred “you’re not my dad !”. He knew the feelings from both sides.

It enhanced everything.

Of course, in general, Bruce always felt things more than anyone else around him. He was born like that. Hypersensitive. That’s why he worked so much on hiding his true feelings, and appearing detached and cold.

It’s much easier, than to always being overemotional. Of course, it didn’t mean he felt nothing. On the contrary, he felt everything. He was just better, nowadays, at pretending he was okay. At pretending he didn’t care.

Ah. But you existed.

You.

The only person that could always see through his bullshit, and know when he was lying and fake smiling.

Between the two of you, there has always been something. Even before you were together. It was an irrational and irresistible attraction.

An unbreakable bond. Always supporting each others.

You have no idea how you’d live without him. And he couldn’t even fathom a world without you. It’s a world he wouldn’t like very much...

Even during the worst times, and oh you went through a lot together, you knew at least...at least you’d have warm arms to fall asleep in. At least, you’d have each others.

Bruce had known pain so strong he sometimes wished death would just take him away. And then you came in. Ready to put up with his shit, and to not give up on him even when he gave you every reason to.

And oh, oh he gave you back everything times a thousand. You knew he’d never let you fall. Not alone.

Whenever something hurtful as your children telling you two you weren’t their real parents happened...It’s when you truly realized how vital you were to each others.

When you fell, Bruce was there to catch you.

When he fell, you were there to catch him.

Better to fall together, than to stand alone.

__________________________________________________

And here we are :). I hope you liked it ? Don’t hesitate to leave a little feedback and reblog if you want to ^^. I’m a little afraid I disappointed y’all for some reasons haha. I couldn’t explain. Self-confidence crisis hahaha. I finished writing that late, and exhausted after a hard week, maybe it plays into account ? Anyway, I really do hope you enjoyed your time reading this :). And thanks for reading, of course ^^.

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lucidnightshade · 3 years ago

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Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

Summary: a very short fluffy little drabble. the Batman stumbles into your apartment after being poisoned.

Warnings: a mention of choking but kinda just angsty fluff inspired by our favorite new invention of Bruce Wayne’s: those fucking contact lenses and all the cheesy fic’s they have inspired that I love

When The Batman arrived back at the Wayne Estate, the first thing he did in the cave down below was pull off his mask and peel off his contact lenses. He carefully placed them onto their rounded mounts to begin downloading the night’s events onto his high-tech computer. He gave it a moment to upload before scrubbing through towards the end of the night when he stumbled onto y/n’s fire escape. He mentally winced at the clunk his body made as it banged against her window like a disoriented overgrown bird, startling the young woman inside. He saw her open the window as he fell against her, almost 200 pounds of body armor and costume and muscle. At this point the poison he accidentally ingested was rendering his real vision blurry and spotty, but the view that the contact lenses recorded was clear. He saw her face above him full of concern as she pulled him onto her bed and fumbled to dip the antidote vial that he had thrust into her hands, unable to open it himself, to his lips. Her brows furrowed and lips formed silent prayers just for him. Her face left the view a moment before he passed out and the scene on the screen went black. Presumably this was when she was searching for the adrenaline shot strapped to the suit Bruce had mumbled about, which y/n had found and administered, because a minute later Bruce’s eyes were wide open, her face above him again, expression full of fear and worry. She reached forward to touch his cheek and on instinct he grabbed the poor girl and spun her so that she was pinned tightly beneath him, one of his hands holding a wrist above her head and the other wrapped tightly around her throat. She looked terrified.

Bruce put his hands on his forehead and looked away. God, he hated himself. One minute the girl is saving his life and the next he’s scaring the shit out of her as he’s crushing her windpipe. When did he become such a monster? He flicked his gaze back to the screen. Her eyes had softened slightly, her free hand touching his gloved one around her throat before moving her hand slowly back up to his chin, caressing the stubble she found there. Only then did the reality of the situation come back to him, and he loosened his hold around her. Her lips looked so soft and inviting, her eyes slightly watering but intent on the masked vigilant hovering above her, curling hair fanned out around her. He paused the screen on this scene.

Bruce Wayne you sick fuck, he thought to himself. The Caped Crusader was not supposed to need saving by ordinary civilian women, he was not supposed to attack them; and he especially was not supposed to get a hard on for them. He looked over his shoulder to make sure Alfred was not hovering in the doorway and scrubbed the footage back again.

After a few more sequences of watching the footage play out, he could feel the exhaustion creeping in and knew he would have to allow his body to sleep soon. He could go over the rest of footage from the beginning of the night later. Footsteps sounded down the stairwell behind him. He quickly went to save and minimimze the web player before Alfred could ask who the pretty girl was, but not before taking a sneaky screenshot of her tender face in the last scene.

“Rough night, Master Wayne?” Alfred inquired as Bruce passed him at the foot of the stairwell, tea tray in hand.

“Something like that, Alfred.”

#batman #batman x fem!reader #batman x reader #batcat #bruce wayne #brucewayne x reader #battinson #battinson x reader #battinson x you #battinson oneshot #batman angst #rob!batman

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true-blue-megamind · 4 years ago

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FAN THEORY THURSDAY: Is Minion the Real Hero?

It’s that time again… SPOILER WARNING!

We all know that Megamind becomes a hero by the end of the film—that’s basically the point of the plot, after all—but is he really the only hero? Many argue, with good reason, that the answer is no. This is not meant to discount Megamind’s turn around and selfless actions, of course, but rather to illustrate that, like most successful people, he didn’t do it alone.

I’m referring, as many may have already guessed, to Minion. In fact, the aquatic henchman’s contributions are so great that some have argued he is the real hero of the story. This is for several reasons, the first of which is rather obvious: Minion is the one who, disguised as Megamind, rescues Roxanne, helps fight Titan, and distracts the incel-turned-villain long enough for the real Megamind to put his plan into action. (Presumably, Megamind needed someone to buy him sufficient time to return to Wayne’s hideout and scan the former hero’s likeness and voice into his holowatch.) Minion does this despite the danger, and in fact nearly dies keeping Roxanne safe, showing that he has a truly heroic heart.

This, however, is not the only way in which Minion displays the selfless concern for other that is the hallmark of a heroic heart. Upon seeing the destruction of his home town on the news, Minion is the one who swallows his hurt following he and Megaminds argument, returns to Metro City at significant personal risk, and breaks Megamind out of prison so that the blue alien can defeat Titan. Given both this and his aforementioned role in the fight, it’s not an exaggeration to say that the city wouldn’t have been saved without Minion’s help.

That’s not all. The aquatic henchman makes Megamind’s turn from supervillain to superhero possible in other, smaller ways as well. There is the fact that he always supports his friend, from helping him with his schemes to apparently returning after there argument and completing the Black Mamba. (You can read about the latter in the post What’s Hidden in the Animation?) Furthermore, one fan theory states that the psychological effect Minion has on Megamind is vital to the blue man’s turnaround. Minion is more than a helper or an employee; he is Megamind’s lifelong friend. Constantly amicable and upbeat, he is likely the only positive influence his companion had throughout much of his life. The bond between the two is obvious, with teasing, cheerful banter, and even occasional pet names (such as Fantastic Fish) being regular features. Indeed, Megamind even refers to the fish as his “best friend.” Clearly their relationship is deep and sincere, and many fans suppose that that helped Megamind hold onto an innate kindness and empathy, allowing him to care about the people around him. Without that, he might never have stepped into the role of Metro City’s Defender. Given the fact that he was disdained and distrusted from an early age by most of the people around him, Megamind could have easily fallen into hardened bitterness if he had not had a companion to care about.

Finally, there is the simple fact that Minion truly does care for Megamind, literally as well as emotionally. (And, yes, I know that doesn’t sound very heroic, but hear me out.) Although we never see Minion cooking or tidying during the movie, a widely accepted fan theory is that he is the one who keeps the Lair clean, supplied, and running smoothly while his friend focuses almost solely on the calculations, schematics, chemistry, and engineering involved in creating his inventions.

Indeed, by this point the majority of the fandom has agreed that Minion is an excellent chef as well as a quintessential Mom Friend. (Minion’s culinary creations could put Michelin Star restaurants to shame, and you can’t convince us otherwise!) These suppositions are not without basis. While we never see Minion in the kitchen, he does have a “Kiss the Cook” apron—something one would hardly expect a person with no interest in culinary pursuits to own. In the film, he is also the only one we ever see providing Megamind with food—once with coffee and donuts, and once with churros—indicating that part of his job may be ensuring the blue genius eats something now and then. We know Minion makes Megamind’s clothing—refer again to the Black Mamba—and we also see Minion doing laundry in the post credit scene, further illustrating his role of domestic caretaker. Then there is, of course, the fact that, at the beginning of the movie, Megamind’s mother literally informs her infant son that Minion “will take care of you.” Finally, in the Megamind comics, Minion is clearly portrayed as cleaning the Lair, running errands, and performing other necessary chores.

So what does all this have to do with heroism? It’s simple, really: Minion’s support once allowed Megamind to focus on being a supervillain, and presumably serves the same essential function now that the blue man is the Defender of Metro City. The henchfish is basically Alfred to Megamind’s Bat Man—a parallel that a Bat Signal-like beacon seen at the end of the short Megamind and the Button of Doom hints may not be coincidental. Like the Dark Knight, Megamind has no superpowers, relying instead upon fighting skills, intelligence, and a plethora of really cool gadgets. But inventing and maintaining all of those crime-fighting tools would take time, making Minion’s role vital to Megamind’s success. If the blue hero had to dedicate part of every day to things like cooking, house keeping, and laundry, along with the patrols, investigations, and battles that presumably make up the bulk of hero work, he wouldn’t have enough hours left over for designing, creating, and repairing the things necessary to do his job. Minion’s role, therefore, while not glamorous, is undeniably important. Fans theorize that Minion makes it possible for Megamind to be a the Defender in the first place, making the fishy sidekick an unsung hero in his own right.

So, while Megamind is the Defender of Metro City, and certainly performs acts of heroism starting with his defeat of Titan and continuing in the comics, he doesn’t do it alone. He needs Minion to help him be the best he can be. Indeed, the two of them are a team, and neither could successfully protect their home town without the other. This means that Minion is, at the very least, Megamind’s sidekick, but many fans argue that his role is even greater than that. Minion is, according to several fan theories, just as much a hero as his blue friend.

#Megamind #Minion #hero #Megamind movie #Megamind fan theory #fan theory #Fan Theory Thursday #fan theories #henchman #sidekick #superhero

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jmoriarty-221b · 4 years ago

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Ok so this idea was inspired by AUs where Tim Drake is a member of the Addams family and thus this cute idea was born

Ok so, Tim’s parents still travel a lot but instead of leaving him alone in a big empty manor they leave him with his aunt and uncle Morticia and Gomez Addams

And Tim is a weird little kid who grows up without fear of the dark figures at night because the boogeyman is actually a pretty nice fellow who was very touched when Tiny Tim gave them a drawing of themselves, the monster in the closet actually gives great fashion advice as well as providing the perfect clothes for playing dress up, and the monsters under his bed are great storytellers and the shadow man gives Tim great advice on how to hide and use shadows to his advantage, etc.

The point is that Timmy grows up under the care of the Addams when his parents have to leave on long business trips or excavation sites and as such, is exposed to Gomez’s great appreciation of swordsmanship and fencing, and the haunted suits of armors are always great at comparing which kind of swords are the best in which kind of combat as well as the the importance of craftsmanship when in relation to having a reliable sword

And then one day Timmy watches the movie ‘The Legend of Zorro’ and becomes absolutely obsessed with learning how to use a sword and fight with it in the way only little kids can become obsessed with something they find completely cool, and Gomez is so excited to be teaching Tim everything he knows and they work together to craft Timmy his very own mini rapier for learning how to fence (swords are heavier so Tim learns those from Gomez when he’s older and can parry more weight)

And Tim becomes very Focused and Serious on learning how to fence and he’s very excited when he manages to finally best his uncle in a fencing duel (not as excited as Gomez tho, “MY CHILD SHALL BECOME THE BEST SWORDSMAN YET MY LOVE, DID YOU SEE HIS TECHNIQUE, HAD I BEEN SLOWER HE WOULD’VE RIPPED OPEN MY THROAT IN ONE SWIPE, I’M SO PROUD” “Our child dear”)

And then the movie ‘Count of Monte Cristo’ comes out and both Tim and Gomez are super fans (as a whole the family’s favorite movies are this one as well as the Legend of Zorro because 1. Revenge is achieved to the improvement of the main character’s well being and 2. The Aesthetic) and Tim just focuses on getting the hang of swords now with Gomez being more than happy to help his darling nephew

So years pass and Tim’s parents have finished one of their most taxing excavation digs so they return to Gotham and Tim has to return too (for the purposes of this AU Janet and Jack actually do give a fuck about their son so they would call him every other night when they’re away and if they can’t then at the very least they would call Tim once a week; they also call Morticia and Gomez at least once a week to check on how Tim is doing and they were also very happy to know that Tim has taken a liking to swords so they try to bring new types of weapons or literature related to weapons from the culture of their latest excavation so Tim can learn how different types of swords are wielded all around the world)

But anyway, Tim is going back to Gotham so he and Gomez work on creating a new sword for him with the family motto carved on the blade “Sic Gorgiamus Allos Subjectatos Nunc” which translates to “We Gladly Feast on Those Who Would Subdue Us” which is metal as fuck so yeah, and this sword is super durable and strong, inspired by a katana’s durability and a rapier’s gracefulness with a blade that is such a dark purple that it looks black like obsidian and the inscription of the family motto is carved in letters that are ruby red with a black hilt where an image of a drake is engraved in the same ruby red as the family motto (basically it is a Very Deadly Sword that is also Very Pretty with a dark aesthetic)

So Tim gets back to Gotham and one day he’s watching the news and sees The Batman saving the day and what not and sees Robin do a quadruple back flip and figures out their identities and decides that he wants to meet them at some point while on his nightly photography sessions of Gotham architecture; and if he manages to snap a couple of shots of Gotham’s heroes sometimes then that’s a bonus but Tim is mostly focused on capturing the essence of Gotham city (at this point in time when Tim moves back to Gotham he physically looks like 10-12 year old; he did meet Dick at the circus when he looked like he was 4 years old but for the purposes of the timeline Tim, as an Addams, can choose to remain at any age he desires for as long as he wants so while he did appear to be 4 years old at the circus, he had been alive for a couple of years more at this point, this also explains how he can master swords and fencing while physically looking like a 10 year old because he has been practicing for years as well as why he remembers Dick from that night at the circus)

So the timeline continues with Tim figuring out that the Bats are actually his neighbors but instead of staying away from the Waynes, he decides to go ask his parents if he can stay with the neighbors whenever they have to stay later than usual at the company or have to take a short business travel and they talk with Bruce about it and he agrees to take care of Tim, so now Tim has an in to befriend the Waynes and helps smooth out the edges of Dick and Bruce’s relationship so Bruce doesn’t fire Dick from Robin, but rather they talk about their feelings for once and Dick decides he wants to create his own superhero identity and Bruce supports his decision (Tim may or may not have had to talk about how his family happened to be very open about their feelings and worry for one another and how much closer they are due to talking to each other and resolving conflict; Alfred may or may not have been 100% behind Tim every time he made such a conversation) also, Tim is basically a trial run for Dick on becoming a big brother for when Jason arrives

One time Tim asks Dick if he knows how to fence which Dick can’t really answer because technically he knows how to fight with a sword but that’s for vigilante purposes which his civilian self isn’t supposed to know so Dick says that he doesn’t and asks Tim why he wanted to know, Tim proceeds to talk about how his favorite masked hero uses a sword to fight injustice and he has a black cape and a black horse and Bruce comes into the living room they’re in in the middle of Tim’s rambling about his favorite hero using a sword and is Concerned for a hot minute until Tim finishes the rant by saying “. . . and that’s why I like his movie so much, have you seen the Legend of Zorro?” (Cue relief for both Dick and Bruce because for all that they scrambled to put a name to the hero Tim was describing they couldn’t come up with one and were considering the possibility of a new player in the vigilante scene) so then Tim asks Mr. Bruce if he knows how to fence and Bruce says yes and asks if Tim would like to learn cue the “Oh, my uncle taught me how to fence a few years ago and when I lived with them we had a duel at least once a week, it was very fun so I was just wondering if you knew so we could practice if you want to Mr. Bruce”

Dick is 100% on board with this because the idea of Tiny Tim and 6’1” Bruce fencing is hilarious in his mind, Alfred is there to supervise and both Tim and Bruce are provided with the appropriate fencing equipment and protection; Bruce starts off slow and is surprised when Tim manages to beat him before starting to enjoy fencing with someone who can surprisingly keep up with him (Dick is taking pictures because the height difference is just too cute to be ignored and Tiny Tim is adorable in his own mini fencing equipment)

Whenever his parents do have to leave for extended periods of time (any company trip that takes more than 3-5 days qualifies as this) Tim stays with his aunt and uncle, thus starting a fun tradition of having spontaneous fencing duels with his uncle Gomez, basically if one of them is in the library then the other will shout ‘En-garde’ while throwing a sabre towards the other person and engaging in a quick duel; basically, if Tim is reading about the latest poisonous plants produced by Poison Ivy and annotating his research in order to get an idea of what would be a nice gift for his aunt Morticia and Gomez walks into the library then Gomez will grab two of the sabres they have on the wall for this exact purpose while shouting ‘en-garde’ before throwing a sabre at Tim and engaging in a duel, same goes for Tim, it’s almost instinct to the point that Tim has to hold himself back from doing exactly this whenever he sees Bruce in the library of Wayne Manor

Later on, when Jason is already adopted into the Wayne family, Tim still comes over and makes it his sacred mission to teach Jason the art of swords so he has another fencing buddy because “Mr. Bruce isn’t always here and I have decided that we will be friends and you’re pretty cool but knowing how to fight with a sword just ups your coolness level ya know?” So now Jason has smol Tim teaching him how to fence and it’s pretty fun to be able to do a taxing physical activity outside of being Robin with a friend, when Jason gets the hang of fencing Tim decides that he must now advance to the next level: sword fighting (Alfred is always there to supervise and give tips and pointers because he also knows how to fence but chooses to stay in the sidelines and let the young masters have their fun)

The problem with this is that, while the Waynes do have sabres for fencing, they don’t have swords, at least not in their civilian selves, so Tim decides to bring his own swords to teach Jason how to sword fight, Alfred is the first to see Tim’s very own special sword and is both impressed at the craftsmanship and concerned as to why a child has a sword, Jason thinks Tim’s sword is the coolest he has ever seen and Tim is happy to talk about how he made it himself with his uncle’s help when he finally learned all about sword fighting and promises Jason that they can make him his own cool sword when he learns how to sword fight too, Dick also thinks that the sword is a little concerning for a kid to have but he also wants his own cool sword and so now he insists Bruce has to teach him how to sword fight because Tim said he’s not allowed to have his own sword until he learns how to sword fight, Bruce is baffled as to why Tim has a sword, impressed at Tim’s skills in craftsmanship, and a little Concerned as to why Tim’s sword has that Latin inscription on the blade (no Tim, knowing that “we feast in those who would subdue us” is your family motto doesn’t calm me down yet it explains a lot about your mother)

By the time Damian comes along to the family he is very interested in where Jason and Dick got their Very Cool swords from, his father also has one and he wants to have his own Very Cool Sword too, thank you very much, and Tim visits them when Damian is still settling in and asks his customary question of if he knows how to use fence and gets an affirmative answer he asks Bruce if it would be ok for him and Damian to have a fencing duel, Bruce explains the rules to Damian and makes sure that Alfred, Dick, Jason and him are present in order to keep Damian from maiming/killing Tim

The duel does get a little out of hand as Damian gauges that Tim is more skilled than he previously thought so he stops holding back, Tim is positively grinning at this since he always has to hold back with the Waynes in a way that he doesn’t with Uncle Gomez because while an Addams won’t die from a stab to the heart, the same can’t be said for anyone else; the duel ends with Tim winning because he has more experience than Damian but he is positive beaming at how awesome Damian was and how these duels could become a weekly thing before they transition to swords and once Dames graduates from swords he can design his very own sword with Tim’s help as a sort of graduation present for learning how to sword fight and he’s sure that it won’t take too long for Damian to master swordsmanship because he’s basically a natural already and very skilled and this duel was so much fun Damian we have to do this again sometime oh my gosh I want to teach you everything I know it’s gonna be so much fun

And Damian, a poor baby, was mad at having lost to Tim but then Tim hits him with all this excitement and smiles and it’s the promise of getting his own Very Cool Sword is what gets him to agree to learn from Tim, it’s not that he feels warm at getting compliments from someone who also likes swords and knows what he’s doing in a fight, he definitely doesn’t find Tim cool at all, he’s just making use of a resource and he will learn everything Tim has to offer and become better than both Grayson and Todd, that’s all (that’s not all because it turns out that Damian is the younger brother Tim never had and he takes Dami under his wing and helps him adjust to a life outside the League of Assassins and how to find hobbies to enjoy; Damian won’t admit it but he is also Very Attached in to Timothy and feels like he won’t be judged for his past with him and he is also a fellow sword enthusiast so yeah)

Tim decides to do the same thing to Damian and initiating a quick fencing duel whenever he sees that Damian is in the gardens (no fencing inside the Manor on pain of Alfred’s eyebrow of disappointment); this helps Damian with the transition of learning to have fun and also learn to realize that not everybody is an enemy, it also helps keep up his training and burn some energy whenever he gets restless and helps him bond with Tim more

The idea was that Tim and Uncle Gomez would surprise each other with spontaneous fencing duels by shouting ‘en-garde’ at the other person whenever they find one another in the library, and now it turned into a fluff AU where Tim isn’t Robin but he’s still a family friend to the Waynes and an Addams and helps bring the family closer through his love of swords because yes

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butwhyduh · 4 years ago

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Holiday Party

Damian Wayne x reader

He’s about 16 yrs old here.

Warning: Christmas? Kissing

Christmas series 4

You were early. Damian looked out his door to see no one around and he rushed downstairs to meet you at the door. You were being dropped off by your older brother who gave Damian a look from the front seat of his car that all but said he’d mess Damian up if he hurt you. Funny to think about your brother trying to beat him up but he would never consider it. Damian opened your car door for you.

“Beloved, you’re early,” he said with a grin. Your brother gave a rough hey and Damian’s face dropped and he gave a curt nod. “I’ll have Alfred drop her off so you won’t have to pick her up,” Damian told him. Your brother nodded again before leaving.

Damian barely held your finger with his own as he walked you up to his room. He didn’t want his brothers to see him being affectionate. He pulled you into his room and engulfed you in a huge hug. He wasn’t short little Dami anymore but had been hit by puberty like a bus and was almost 6 foot tall. He smelled like cologne and his sweater was so freaking soft. You felt the fabric on his chest with your hand and he stiffened and coughed a little. Oh yeah, he could feel that. You flushed.

“So you want to watch a movie?” Damian said pulling away.

“Yeah. Sounds great,” you said sitting on his bed pulling your shoes off. You slid up the bed to lay on his pillow as he grabbed his laptop.

“Drake doesn’t know but I’ve set it up that every film he downloads, I get a copy too so I’ve got a bunch. Though his taste is pretty sappy for some of these,” Damian said wrinkling his nose.

“Probably to watch with his girlfriend. Or maybe he’s a sap,” you laughed. Damian climbed on the bed and laid the laptop on the other side of you. His arms temporarily caged you against him and you couldn’t help but think of him on top of you. Damian laid back as the film started playing. He put two pillows behind his head to watch from behind you. You laid on your side and he wrapped an arm around your waist loosely.

The film was probably great. All you could think of was how close your boyfriend in the softest boyfriend sweater was right beside you. You slid farther back until your back hit his chest. He inhaled audibly but didn’t move. Damian cursed himself. You had definitely heard that.

You ran your hand along the arm of his sweater as the movie went on. He smelled a little like soft cologne and spiced tea. Everything was fine until there was a sex scene. Nothing graphic but enough to where you were both very aware of your situation. Damian slid his body a little back from you making a little space between you and him.

You turned to look at him and he couldn’t help but brush his lips against yours. You slowly turned in his arms until you were making out while laying on your side. Damian held your face softly with one hand. Your fingers slid into his hair. His tongue slipped into your mouth gently just exploring you.

The door to his room opened.

“Master Damian, your father needs you in his study at your earliest convenience. Also... do take care with your visitors. You are only 16,” Alfred said, looking pointedly at the ceiling before leaving. Damian flushed on his tan skin. you covered your mouth and giggled, embarrassed.

“At least it wasn’t your dad,” you said. He nodded as he stood up.

“I won’t be long. Just watch the movie and I’ll be back as quick as I can,” Damian said and you noted that his lips were pink and maybe even a little swollen from kissing.

“Yeah, no problem.”

It took all of 1.7 minutes for Bruce to notice his son’s lips. His eyes narrowed a little and he looked critically at Damian who was staring at the computer screen.

“Damian, you are of the age where sexual education is important. You are practicing safe sex, yes?” Bruce asked in an even tone as if almost casually but really he wanted to seem calm. Damian twisted so fast to look at his father.

“I am not,” he said quickly.

“You aren’t??” Bruce asked shocked. “That’s very dangerous-“

“I’m not having sex. At all,” Damian said completely red. Bruce calmed.

“None? Because condoms-“

“Father, I’ve been taught. And if I do have sex I will be safe but I’m not now,” Damian said. He refused to look anywhere but the screen. “How did Alfred tell you so fast?” He complained.

“Tell me? Is there something to tell me? You know what? Don’t answer that. I trust you. There is a bowl of condoms under the sink in the bathroom off my study. All of the boys use it and it stays full. No questions asked. And the family doctor is very discreet for any questions you might have,” Bruce said delicately.

“Okay. I got it. Thanks. But please stop. Tell me about the case,” Damian practically begged.

——————————

It was not a few minutes but a full 2 hours later that Damian came back to his room. You were asleep. A movie played in the background and you hug his pillow. Damian smiled a little before waking you. It was almost time for his brothers to arrive. You sat up quickly. You’d never fallen asleep at his place.

“Sorry I was so long. Family stuff,” he said vaguely. He did that all the time. “It’s almost time for the party.”

“Oh I need to get ready,” you sat up. You’d planned to get started a little earlier. You didn’t dress fancy around Damian; he didn’t care. But his family’s Christmas was fairly formal.

“Is this okay?” You asked 20 minutes later. Damian nodded with a little smile.

“You look beautiful in anything, beloved. But this is exceptional,” he said and you flushed. His way with words. “It’s time to go down stairs.”

Damian took your hand and you walked downstairs. His eyes lingered on you longer than necessary. Somehow Tim and his girlfriend and Duke had beat you both downstairs. Damian pulled out a chess board and Tim and Bruce once again dragged work into every room they entered.

“I won’t go easy on you,” Damian warned. He was far better at strategy but your moments on the board were incredibly erratic to the point that he couldn’t predict your next move.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else. If you did, I’d expect a body snatcher,” you said and he hazarded a small smile. Damian didn’t want to appear too pleased. Bruce was watching him while maintaining conversation. You understood his weird stoic family dynamic enough to ignore it.

Damian won 3 out of 4 games. You could admit that your win was more luck than skill but you took it. Dick and his girlfriend arrived and the party moved to the dining room.

After a few minutes, a man you had never seen showed up humming to introduce himself and his date. The butler seemed very happy and for a minute you wondered if it was his son. No, this was the mysterious brother who was always fighting with the family.

“Dami, who is that?” You asked whispering.

“Jason Todd, one of my father’s wards. And I suppose his girlfriend,” Damian said. You nodded and watched as they sat down. Later in the evening, the eldest, that Damian had even called his brother, proposed to his girlfriend.

You were given a small glass of champagne and you looked at it quietly. Did they forget you and Damian were 16? Not exactly legal. But you didn’t say anything and you both drank the tiny amount of alcohol with everyone else. Damian squeezed your hand and gave you a tiny smile.

The party moved to the parlor with a billiards table and a dart board on the wall. The adults were served more alcohol and pudding was served informally. A tasty sticky cake that you dare not asked the ingredients was quickly eaten. You and Damian sat on a loveseat in the corner where you could watch the others play billiards and other games. Tim and Jason played a heated game of 9 ball. Jason was a natural. Tim was all strategy.

You leaned against Damian’s shoulder as the storm raged outside. You were full and the room was warm.

“It’s far too dangerous to drive out tonight. It’s turned into a blizzard so you all will stay here. There are plenty of rooms and beds for everyone and anything you could need,” Bruce announced to the group. Jason sighed and Damian opened his mouth. “I’ll call her parents to let them know. Don’t worry Damian.”

Damian relaxed and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You began to doze as the pool games played. He ran his fingers along your outer arm and watched from the corner of his eyes as you fell asleep. He enjoyed your body warmth and soft sweet scent subtly.

An hour later you woke as you were slowly being moved. Strong arms cradled you and you could smell Damian’s pleasant unique scent strongly. You gripped his arm as he carried you out of the room. He hushed softly to let you go back to sleep.

“You got him shot?!” One of the women in the room yelped and you jolted awake.

“It’s okay. Go back to sleep, beloved. Don’t mind my stupid brothers,” Damian said quietly. He gently laid you on his bed and pulled you in the covers. His soft sheets quickly lulled you to sleep.

While you slept, he grabbed blankets and settled on the floor. Half an hour later, right as Damian was falling asleep, Bruce opened the door quietly. He saw the boy on the floor, nodded, and shut the door.

#fns #christmas series #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #robin x reader #dc #damian wayne imagine

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preciousthingsareprecious · 4 years ago

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Out of Sight

Guys! Here it is is!! Dick and Damian week! I am obviously super excited. I’m loving all the content you all are posting, and I’m here to share a fic of my own.

Day 2: Dami’s First Birthday with Dick / Comfort / “He’s my son!”

Summary:

“I’m looking for my little brother, he’s ten, this high with black hair and has a green bowtie.” Dick held his hand out to Damian’s approximate height.

“If I see him I’ll send him your way, now please.” the man waved Dick towards the rest of the crowd.

He shook his head, “You don’t understand, I think he’s still inside. He was supposed to meet me if we got separated and he hasn’t yet I need--”

The man’s face fell, and with it Dick’s heart.

“What?” he almost growled, “What’s going on?”

Ao3 Link

“So there Bruce is, standing in front of the most gorgeous lady I’d ever seen laughing like she’s not just stunning and--”

There was a tug at his elbow. Dick ignored it and continued with his story.

“And I’m 16, slack jawed, and carrying a blue raspberry slurpee. So of course I’m going to trip over my own two feet.”

This time it was an elbow in his side. Dick shifted a bit. The two women he was talking to didn’t seem to notice.

“One foot catches another and down I go. I thought for sure I was going to faceplant, but someone caught me. When I looked up, I saw Bruce, absolutely coated in my drink! He was-- Damian please .”

His little brother had closed the distance between them and dug his heel into Dick’s foot. When Dick looked down at him, the boy was all innocence, foot already snapping into place beside the other. A trick he was regretting teaching Damian right now.

“I do not mean to interrupt, but our tickets to The Pirates of Penzance say we are to arrive ten minutes early and if we do not leave soon we will be late.”

Damian was laying on the innocent act really well. They had no plans to see the musical. In fact, Damian had vehemently rejected Dick when he’d asked him a few weeks ago if he’d wanted to attend. So this act, for that’s what it had to be, must have been a ploy to go home early. Most days, Dick wouldn’t mind the kid giving him an out from social affairs, but this wasn’t something he wanted to miss. Lucius had specifically asked him to come.

They were in the middle of a special party thrown for Wayne Enterprise’s new hires. Everyone, from full time staff to interns, who’d been added to the staff in the last six months had flooded into the building’s first floor ballroom, they’d brought family along with them and friends. Dick was pretty sure there were people here who had nothing to do with the staff, but had shown up for the open bar alone. Lucius had stressed how important it was for them to meet at least one of the Waynes, and of how inspiring it’d be for Dick to give a stirring speech.

Dick made a show of checking his watch and beamed down at his brother, “We’ve still got some time, I promise I won’t let us be late, alright?”

His brother puffed out his cheeks and pressed his lips together, obviously trying to decide if it was worth it to keep the eager child routine up. At last he nodded, a single sharp nod.

“Fine. Then I will amuse myself elsewhere.”

With that, the kid spun on his heel and stomped away.

Dick shot the ladies an apologetic smile, “One second, I want to make sure he’s not upset. Then I’ll be back to regale you with the story’s thrilling conclusion.”

“Of course.” one of the women smiled.

He darted after Damian, and ahead of the boy to walk backwards until Damian stopped with a huff. They were in a crowded room, but somehow Damian had already made his way to one of the few quiet bubbles.

“Want to tell me what that was all about?” Dick asked.

Damian crossed his arms, “I simply do not wish to waste any more time with these plebeians.”

“Aaand?” Dick pressed.

The boy glared at him, “And it should be obvious.”

Okay, he was not expecting that. Dick wracked his brain for what he could have missed. Any signs Damian was upset? Any people who’d bothered him? Had he forgotten an important date or something?

“Remember what we talked about with using our words. Misunderstandings are made and broken by stating clear intentions.” Dick said.

“Tt. If you cannot remember, then apparently I am the one who misunderstood.” Damian snapped, and pushed past him.

By the time Dick turned around, his brother had melted into the crowd of unfamiliar faces. He swore. He wished he could remember what it was that had Damian in such a grumpy mood.

He thought back on the immediate. On Damian’s mood and actions over the course of the day. The kid had been happy enough when Dick had suggested they go to the meet and greet together. He hadn’t wanted to go alone, and he figured after they could do something after like go to the arcade or-- Oh .

“Crap.” Dick muttered.

They really were supposed to see that musical tonight. Days after Damian had told Dick in no uncertain terms what he thought of people who watched musical’s he’d barged into the Penthouse with three tickets to a showing of it at Gotham’s Summer Musicals in the Park event.

“It is something you enjoy doing, correct?” Damian had asked, “You and Pennyworth used to go?”

How Damian had figured that out Dick would never know. He didn’t think Alfred would have told him, not outright. It had been their thing, and Dick was hoping to advance the tradition.

And, well, lately Dick wanted to share everything with Damian. The kid had wiggled his way into Dick’s heart in a way that made him feel warm to think about.

“Damian!” he called, not too loud as to make a scene, but loud enough he hoped his brother heard him.

He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. Well, he could. He hadn’t known about this event until yesterday, and in the flurry of scheduling it and figuring out patrol in case it went really late all thoughts of fun had gone out of Dick’s head.

A short tuft of dark hair made for one of the hallways and Dick moved towards it. The next moment, someone was shouting.

“He’s got a gun!”

The words were followed seconds later by two unmistakable gunshots.

The crowd around him swarmed. Like a pack of terrified gazelle being chased by a lion, the room exploded into movement as the people all around him began running, pushing, and shoving in an attempt to get out of the building.

Dick was caught in the swell of people, his body being pushed towards the door before he could stop and find his brother.

“Damian!” he yelled this time, “Dames!”

He stopped, doing his best to plant his feet as a stone against the tide. His gaze ripped across the flood of people. Dick only had a moment before someone shoved him from behind and he was moving again, stumbling along with the crowd, jostled from position to position until he burst through the doors and the remaining rays of sunlight hit his face.

Dick tumbled out of the crowd as soon as he could, and went back to his search. He moved along the edges, knowing Damian would do the same. They’d drilled this time and again. Damian knew the rules, if they got separated in a crowd, get out and find the other along the edge.

His heart was racing. He could hear sirens coming closer. The police detail for the party must have already called for backup. Dick could hear them now too, corralling the crowd, moving everyone to a designated safe zone, but doing their best not to let them disperse.

Dick was still moving, prowling in his search for his little brother.

He took a few seconds to pause and shoot off a quick text to Damian, asking where he was, and telling him to follow procedure, and that he was looking for him.

“Damian!” he called again, hoping his voice could be heard above the din.

Where was he? They should have met up by now. Dick should be dragging his kid into his side and holding him close, apologizing for forgetting, and the fact that they were sure to miss the play. His heart should be slowing down.

But he couldn’t find Damian. What if? What if he was still inside?

Dick rushed back towards the door only to be stopped by one of the officers moving to stand in front of him.

“Sir, please, I need you to move over there.”

“I’m looking for my little brother, he’s ten, this high with black hair and has a green bowtie.” Dick held his hand out to Damian’s approximate height.

“If I see him I’ll send him your way, now please.” the man waved Dick towards the rest of the crowd.

He shook his head, “You don’t understand, I think he’s still inside. He was supposed to meet me if we got separated and he hasn’t yet I need--”

The man’s face fell, and with it Dick’s heart.

“What?” he almost growled, “What’s going on?”

“There’s still some people inside, but--” the officer trailed off.

“Tell me.” Dick did growl now.

The officer straightened against Dick’s anger, but his face was pitying, “The gunman’s locked himself up in the ballroom with hostages. We don’t have much information right now, but when we do we will let you know.”

The phone in Dick’s palm buzzed two short quick bursts that were Damian’s signature. He checked it, and saw one word: inside.

Dick’s head flooded with white static. His thumb hovered above the phone, wanting to send a message, to beg for more information. He couldn’t, couldn’t risk alerting anyone to Damian’s presence or the presence of a phone. If Damian was safe enough to text, Dick wasn’t going to put him in danger by messaging again.

The officer turned his head and seemed to catch someone else’s attention, waving them over while Dick stood frozen, “Jerry! This guy’s kid is inside, talk to him for me?”

Dick didn’t bother correcting the man, his mouth had gone dry. His heart once racing, now felt like it had all but disappeared.

Jerry, took Dick by the shoulders and moved him away from the other officer. They didn’t head towards the main crowd, but to the police cars that had rolled up to the scene. Vaguely Dick noted that police tape had been drawn up, pulled across barriers, and officers were working to soothe worried nerves.

As they moved to a group of officers, a familiar tan coat stood out from the crowd. Salt and pepper hair that was more salt than pepper at this point shifted around uniformed officers until Jim Gordon stepped towards Dick, his face a look of relief.

“Dick, I heard you were inside, thank goodness you’re alright.” he said, before glancing at Jerry, “I’ve got him.”

The officer nodded, and moved away, the absence of his hand leaving Dick’s shoulder cold.

“Dick?” the Commissioner asked.

“Damian’s inside.” Dick said, still not quite believing it.

Jim swore.

“I brought him with me because I thought it’d be a nice night. He always wants to see more of his dad’s company.” Dick rambled, head still lost.

Lost. He’d lost his kid. He’d let Damian slip away and now he was stuck inside with someone who’d brought a gun to a party. With a kidnapper . All of a sudden the shock that had been freezing him cracked, and he came back to himself. He was Batman, he could deal with this. He had to, for Damian.

“What do we know?” he asked, “How can I help?”

Jim looked him over for a moment, as if considering the possible consequences to telling Dick to let them handle things. Dick squared his shoulders and set his jaw.

“He’s got them in the ballroom. From our officer inside it’s just the one guy, but he’s claimed to have planted a bomb inside. We have no real way of knowing if that’s true or not, so we’re treating the whole thing as if he’s telling the truth.”

Dick nodded, it was a safe play to make, “Any demands?”

“Money.” Jim crossed his arms, eyeing Dick, “I get the feeling he came in looking to grab one person, not a whole room full.”

Dick swallowed. Lucius had said he’d sent out an email letting everyone know Dick would be there and be giving a speech, as a way to get them excited and convince more people to come. The lure of snatching a Wayne at a busy party was obvious.

“I’ll pay. How much does he want?” Dick said It was the safest way to get Damian out of there.

Jim shook his head, “I can’t let you do that. We’ll find a way to neutralize him.”

Heat flared up in Dick’s head, his hands tightened to fists at his side, “This is the best way to get him to let everyone go.” he argued, “And if need be, you can lure him out so you guys can grab him.”

“You know Wayne Enterprises doesn’t give into ransom demands.” Jim countered, “They won’t authorize the payout.”

“Then I’ll pay.” Dick said, “Tell me how much, I promise I can get it.”

He was frantic now. His earlier worry doubled into panic and fueled by frustration. If only he wasn’t outside. If only he weren’t in this crowd. He could take care of things in the building as Dick Grayson, or even as Batman. But no. He was stuck arguing with the one man who should understand his predicament.

“Dick--”

“He’s got Damian,” Dick snapped, “He’s my son! I won’t let him die because you won’t let me pave the way to get this guy!”

Jim’s eyes widened, then his face softened, “Alright. We’ll try it. It’s going to take some time though. He wants cash, not a wire transfer.”

“I can do that.” Dick nodded.

Moving released some of the tension built up within Dick. Not all of it. His chest felt tight, like a vice had been wrapped around it and was squeezing. He knew it wouldn’t let go until Damian was in his arms again.

He checked his phone frequently for texts. Hoping that Damian would update him, and praying he didn’t risk it.

At some point Alfred arrived to help. Together they put in phone calls to banks, tallied up how much cash was hanging around the manor for just such an occasion --Bruce really had been prepared for everything-- and worked to collect the rest of the cash as quickly as possible.

Dick kept one eye on the building, and the police. Hours passed as they waited on money to transfer and banks to make this one time exception. Pizza was sent into the building, the scent making Dick’s stomach twist. The sight, like something out of a tv show.

His only comfort was that the kidnapper was keeping in contact with the police and promised no one had been hurt yet. He seemed mollified that his requests was being taken seriously.

At least, he had been at first.

In order to collect everything, Dick had needed to leave the scene and get the final part of the cash from a bank personally. When he returned from his last stop it was to a Jim Gordon wearing a very concerned face.

“What happened?” Dick asked, the vice across his chest tightening further.

Jim shook his head, “He’s afraid it’s all a trap. Thinks we won’t let him leave. He stopped responding right after you left.”

He wasn’t wrong. The last thing the police really wanted to do was let the kidnapper walk free. But they shouldn’t have let onto that. Dick didn’t think they would have.

“Good thing I’ve got the money together then.” Dick said, hefting the briefcase, “Let’s see if he answers to that.”

Dick insisted on being there for the call, and was rejected.

“I can’t let you do that. It’d be a new voice when we’ve established communication already.” Jim told him, “Besides, Dick, you’re too invested. You yell at him like you yelled at me and things get a whole lot more complicated.”

He didn’t have a good argument against that. So, Dick moved back, not into the crowd still piled up at police barriers, but to stand along with some other officers. They were watching him closely, probably warned by Jim already to keep him from doing anything stupid. For all the perks of personally knowing the police commissioner, this was not one of them.

Tension shifted in the group as Dick watched Jim on the phone. The call went on too long. Dick knew these kinds of calls, it should have been faster. And the way the Commissioner's jaw tensed wasn’t a good sign.

He wanted to push out of the crowd and snatch the phone. Demand Damian be given back to him.

All Dick could do was worry. Worry and wonder how his brother was doing. Worry that he was safe. He’d been drilled in this too. They’d spent hours going over the procedure for what to do if one of them was ever stuck in a multiple hostage situation. It was, unfortunately, a common enough occurrence in Gotham and Dick had wanted Damian prepared for anything.

He hated that it was coming in handy.

If only he’d just kept Damian close. If he’d remembered their plans, then his brother wouldn’t have felt rejected and walked away from him.

Jim was moving. Handing Dick’s briefcase over to a plainclothes officer they’d picked just for this. Just in case the guy demanded a civilian do the hand off. How Dick wished he could be that guy.

He shifted so he could keep an eye on the front doors of the building. The men and women around him shifted to match his stance. Dick didn’t care, his eyes were locked onto the scene in front of him.

It took forever, but at last the doors creaked open and out came two figures. A man in a long trench coat with dark messy hair and a wild look on his face Dick could read from back where he was. And Damian.

Dick was afraid his chest might crack open.

His brother was pressed close to the man’s chest, the barrel of the gun flush against his skull. Before Dick could get a good look at his expression or see if he was hurt at all, people closed in around him. Towards the front, the officers beside him, everywhere police were preparing for the worst.

When Dick went to step forward a hand shot out. He looked over and found Jerry. The man shook his head. He knew it was better if he stayed still and let things play out, but all Dick wanted to do was shove through the crowd and slam his fist into the kidnapper’s face.

All he could do now was listen.

There was a low murmuring across the crowd. Then the kidnapper’s voice, high and panicked.

“Slide the briefcase over!”

A quieter response Dick couldn’t make out.

“I said do it! Want me to blow the kid’s brains out?!”

Dick stepped forward, heart in his throat. He was stopped by Jerry, his hand now holding him by the arm.

A beat of silence. Another. Dick felt like a speedster, ready to vibrate out of Jerry’s grip he was so tense.

“I told you to stand back! I’m warning you! I--”

Two shots rang out.

Dick bolted. Ripping free from Jerry’s hand he shoved his way through the crowd. They were buzzing with activity, but not the absolute flood he’d fought earlier. Dick cut through them like a warm knife in butter.

He burst forward to see three of the bomb squad officers swarming to the front doors. They were already entering moving in to start clearing the place. But that’s not what had Dick’s attention. No, his eyes were glued on the prone forms a few feet in front of the doors.

A pool of blood was already spreading on the ground, stark and red against the grey concrete. There was an officer hunched over them. Dick couldn’t even see Damian, just the kidnapper and that trenchcoat, flared out as he’d fallen.

“Damian!” Dick yelled, sprinting now that no one was in his way.

He slid to a stop, dropping to his knees so fast and hard they cracked against the ground painfully. He ignored it, and the admonition from the officer beside him, as he shoved the other man up, and off his brother, ignoring the man’s grunt as he did so. Nothing but Damian mattered.

Curled tightly on the ground lay Damian. Blood soaked a shoulder and some of his hair, but even in his frenzied state, Dick could see it wasn’t Damian’s.

“Dames.” Dick breathed, and reached out for his brother.

Slowly he put a hand on Damian’s shoulder, away from the blood, and squeezed, “Hey there, Kiddo, it’s me, it’s Dick.”

It took a moment, but Damian uncoiled, head lifting from where he’d buried it in his arms, body ever so gradually loosening from how he’d wrapped in on himself as they’d fallen.

“Richard?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m here. You’re safe.”

At those words Damian launched himself, up from the ground and into Dick’s arms. Heedless of the people around them or the buzz of the crowd. Dick wrapped his arms tightly around his brother, breathing freely at last as he felt Damian’s warmth in his arms, weight against his chest, breath on his neck.

“I’m sorry.” Damian murmured.

“Me too.” Dick said, pressing a kiss against the crown of Damian’s head, “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

He wanted to apologize for forgetting. For letting Damian out of his sight. For not being there every moment his kid was in danger. But there would be time for that. For now, he relished in the fact that Damian was back, he was here. He was clutching Dick like a lifeline and hadn't let go yet.

Beside them, someone else had moved forward. Jerry knelt down and looked them over, a small smile slipping across his face.

“I’m glad you found your son.” he said.

Damian made to wiggle out of Dick’s arms, but Dick just tugged him a bit closer, “Me too.” he said, “Me too.”

#dickanddamiweek2021 #Dick Grayson #Damian Wayne #hostage situations #guns #gunshots #gun #gunshot #canon typical violence #panicked crowds #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending #precious posts

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lafayetteworld · 3 years ago

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Robin 2021

Okay, so it's been a while since I've been actively posting on tumblr, mainly because I haven’t had time. That being said, the commentary I am about to make on the Robin 2021 series is not meant to offend anyone and while I am particularly critical, I also acknowledge that some people genuinely like it/prefer the direction its's going in. And that's fine. But I did want to break down why I feel the current series is just 'meh' to me at the moment and it’s not necessarily because Damian is potentially being shipped with a newly introduced character.

Please be aware, that there are lots of spoilers.

So, to start off, I am a big fan of the older Batman and Robin (2009) series, where Damian had partnered up first with Dick and later Bruce (2011). I do no think they are flawless, certainly. I think, in particular, the Nobody plot - excluding of course the interactions between Batman!Dick and Robin! Damian which are gold - was very good. In just a handful of issues, I think we were offered a great insight into Damian's character and how layered he is.

My first thoughts when I heard about Robin 2021, based on the announcement: Damian will follow his own path, for some reason he retains the Robin moniker which is weird but okay, it does seem like something he'd do I suppose. He will participate in mortal kombat-sort-of-tournament, which will showcase his abilities and in the process, 'he will seek his own destiny' (which I believe was a line used in the actual announcement). The reason he wants to win? Initially, it appeared to be only because he wanted to prove to be the world's best fighter -- which by the way, how is only a tournament of this level only coming up now? Anyways, ignored that. Not a big deal. The idea of watching Damian fight different opponents was appealing either way.

The art of those comics is perhaps nowhere as striking/appealing as Robin 2021 and there's certainly not as many elements to it, but there was just something about it. I stopped reading comics after, for reasons I can't recall but I do remember finding out that Damian was killed off sometime after. I was super heartbroken over it but luckily I found out about it right around the time DC decided to bring him so really I had to wait a short while to see the little shit being Robin again.

I am not as familiar with the arc on Alfred's death but I know Damian watched what was basically his grandfather figure die in front of his eyes. How it was addressed after was rather poorly and that's a discussion for another time, just as it is that hot mess of Gleason's Titans.

My hopes may have been too high in thinking we will be offered the introspection we'd seen in Batman and Robin, or him deciding what type of vigilante he wants to be. Like who remembers Damian admitting 'sometimes I don't know who I am or what I want' or him saying he does not wish to be like Nobody. That was so poignant.

First issue of Robin 2021 was a disappointment. I know that there's a lot of damage to the character that had to be addressed but why did he die from like the beginning? Why is it the first thing we see is the author's OC defeat him? I mean, we really didn't need that to find the tournament's rules. Anyway, I was so sold on the art that I could have overlooked all that, except then the art became inconsistent so.....

Do I think Flatline's design is awesome? Yep. Do I like that she is potentially a badass female fighter? Sure. Do I like her abilities? Somewhat? They haven't been explored that much. But to me, having an OC appear out of nowhere and kill the character I was hoping to watch mature/develop is a bit underwhelming. Then, we start getting references of how poetic it is that Damian may fall in love with the first girl that kills him. I thought it was funny at the beginning but subsequent issues only seem to point that actually, the author does want to use Flatline/romance in this journey of growth that Damian is undergoing. I mean, we really shouldn't be romanticizing that she killed him? The girl is serious about winning too. That she caught him off guard is actually rather awesome but I don't think it had to mean anything more than Damian meeting a potentially dangerous fighter and that he needs to be less reckless.

Damian is a pretty complex/difficult character with a lot to figure out. Why does he need a girlfriend? Why can't he have friends that helps him grow or mentor figures? Him and Rose have such a great dynamic, for example.

I see a lot of people saying 'well, he's a teenager boy so it's normal'. Yeah of course it is. But why can't it be the opposite? Damian isn't a normal teenager. Out there, may be teenagers who feel the same. They don’t care about this stuff.

It is so frustrating, and underwhelming. Not because there's anything wrong with Damian having a crush. Not because there's necessarily anything wrong with Flatline. But because there's no need.

Why is it just because he's a teenager he has to have a romantic interest? If romance is introduced in a plot, surely it doesn't have to be just because 'he's a teenager'. And if he does, why does it have to be an OC that hasn't been explored very well? Flatline could be a seriously cool character without needing to be a romantic interest for Damian and vice versa, Damian has so much to figure out on his own. So for me it's not the shipping that’s an issue, it’s the reasoning and how it may perpetuate clichés when there’s other angles that could be explored.

Also, why the hell is Alfred used to drive Flatline's likeability? If Alfred is Damian's guilt manifesting, then that's actually Damian thinking that?

'I like this one, Master Damian.'

Seriously. I really hope we end up finding out that was tied in with Flatline's ability or something. So, Williamson won't explore Damian's guilt over Alfred but he'll give us a panel where Alfred (or a manifestation of him) is basically giving his thumbs up for his OC. That doesn’t sit well with me. Not so early in the series, anyway.

Why is this whole manga thing keep coming back? Yes, Damian reads manga. I loved this addition and I think it's great that Williamson actually brought it in. The fact that it was Flatline who found it seems cliché. And no, I don't think it's a parallel between the shojo manga characters and them two. I really hope that particular manga has a deeper meaning than that. The fact that we keep seeing the blood sprayed (or is it cuts? not sure) on it does seem to hint at that.

There were some good moments. Damian and Dick. Basically every single interaction between Damian and Ravager. The whole Damian and Conner could have been developed better, because it seemed rather sudden they had a heart to heart when Damian can be such a distrusting little shit. Damian reuniting with Goliath.

Why is it that we're five issues into this series and it's all over the place? I don't dislike it. The art is great, although there's so many inconsistencies. But it's been super hard to feel in any way about it other than just 'meh'.

Issue #6 was boring. I didn't mind Flatline and Damian analysing other fighters, it was interesting actually, but that it's still being framed as heading towards a romantic relationship is so.....well, eugh.

Overall, I just don't feel there's enough...substance? Damian does interact with a wide variety of characters and there are a lot of things going on - batfamily searching for him, Ra’s Al Ghul (which was funny yet so odd the way he was characterized), the whole tournament and magic island, so on.

Flatline is not the issue for me, but rather one part of why the series has not managed to appeal to me. I do feel there's a bit too much of her. Or rather, there's not enough of her as a character and too much of the whole 'they're teenagers so they'll have to end up having a crush on one another because he's a boy and she's a girl who literally stole his heart'. Like, I wouldn’t mind having Flatline or other fighters background explored, just to see the types of people they are and so on.

I wish there'd more of Damian's inner thoughts too. If not that, then give us more fights. Not just snippets. It's a tournament. Let's see how badass they all are. Damian’s fight scenes in #6 were beautiful but brief. I hope the next issues will give us more of that. As someone who does like Damian x OC fics, I can’t blame the author for wanting to hype their own OC, but I am also a great fan of friends to lovers, slow burns, friendships can be just as great as romantic relationships, of taking the time for mental/emotional growth.

Anyways, if you've made it to the end of this commentary, I applaud you. Once again, if you do like the whole Damian x Flatline thing, that's cool. I don't, but I do understand to an extent why people find it appealing. And if you think the Robin 2021 series is amazing, then I am happy for you -- I wish I could be this enthusiastic about it.

P.S just saw the cover for issue #7 or is it #8 ? I think I may cry.

#damian wayne #flatlinedc #robin 2021 #spoilers #just an analysis of how I am finding this series so far #robin 2021 spoilers it's not a terrible series but not good either imo

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catxsnow · 4 years ago

Text

MID-JULY J.T.

Summary: based off the song Mid-July by Craig Wilson. Jason visits a small town just to get away from his life in Gotham, he never expected to meet his summer love.

Warning: fluff

A/N: This was my secret santa fic for @woahjaybird (I went a little overboard) I hope you all enjoy, I most certainly had a lot of fun writing it!

Word count: 7.9k

I’ve been looking for a summer love

A pretty, single girl who wants to have a little fun But only be engaged for about three months Then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

Jason Todd was drained to the point that he couldn't get up in the morning without dreading the day. Day in and day out he continued to lose himself in ways that he swore he wouldn’t. He hadn’t felt like himself in months and it seemed that all hope was lost to every get back to his normal self – not that was a good version either.

It was Artemis that told him to take some time off from being the Red Hood. Visit some beach in the middle of nowhere and enjoy himself without the stress of saving the world. Take the time to mourn those he had lost. It took him months to be convinced to take a break. Truth was, he needed it.

Years of beating himself down, burning the match at both ends until there was nothing left. He couldn't keep running on fumes, everyone saw it. Tired eyes, sluggish movements, adrenaline being the only thing that kept him going in tough situations. It was dangerous for everyone - and it was when a civilian died did he finally realize that.

So, after breaking down in front of his friends, Jason agreed to take a break. Just a couple of weeks, just to get himself back to where he once was. He found himself planted on the beach where not a damn soul knew his name. He didn't want to admit that they were right, Jason was tough - he didn't need a mental break. At least, that's what he told himself.

Even if he was on 'vacation' he couldn't stop thinking about the suit that was hidden in his closet. The presence of it didn't help him destress in the slightest. Every creak of the floorboards, the sound of voices outside his temporary home, everything had him on edge. It was the way that he was raised - letting go didn't come easily to him.

The place that he was staying in was nice. Some Airbnb that was way too cheap for the quality it was. A big bed, small kitchen, huge bathroom that seemed way nicer than the one in his own home. The beach was a walk away and parking was free. He couldn't complain, as badly as he wanted to find some excuse to go back home.

The first day that Jason was in that small town on the coast, he spent it walking around, casing everything and everyone. A habit that Bruce instilled in him. The people gave him a few looks, but kind smiles nonetheless. Some people waved; others just ignored him. He didn't mind.

The smell of a bakery enticed him. Fresh bread that reminded him of those cold winter mornings where Alfred would make him loaves upon loaves of bread. Jason watching him at the kitchen counter, working on whatever homework he had to do for school that he was behind in. He couldn't help but go buy a loaf from the sweet old lady.

On the second and third day, Jason spent mostly in his room. He couldn't be bothered to try and relax when clouds covered the sky and it threatened to rain. Instead, he took the time to unpack the few clothes that he had brought with him. If Artemis was going to make him stay there for at least a few weeks then he may as well make it comfortable.

It was the fourth day that he admitted defeat and strolled out the beach right by his temporary home. White sand, blue seas that went on for miles - it was a gorgeous place - just not his scene. The warmth of the sand felt heavenly against his skin. It had been years since Jason truly felt warm like this - not since before the pit.

It was that day that he realized that maybe this idea wasn't so bad, maybe he really could find comfort in this nameless town where everyone seemed to know everyone. The warmth alone... he forgot what it was like. Jason was always cool to the touch, his fingers like ice against the skin of his friends and family.

His hands dug into the sand, absorbing every ounce of heat that he could get.

As the sun went down that evening, and the heat of the sand dissipated, Jason packed up his items. The now-familiar smell of that oh-so-fresh bread filled him again. He hesitated - the first loaf had gone by so fast that a second sounded a little too perfect of a way to end his day.

Unlike before, the tiny shop wasn't empty. The older lady that smiled so kindly with him the last time was helping a girl who was no older than he was. Her voice wounded like silk to him and a bright smile that lit up the entire building. She held a box of pastries in her arm and chatted with the owner as if they knew each other forever.

The sound of Jason entering - or more so the bell above the door caught both their attention. The girl faltered for a moment, not recognizing him from their small town. Nonetheless, she gave him a wave before bidding the older lady goodbye. Jason opened the door for the girl, still taking in her beauty.

"I'm gonna guess you're not from around here," she paused in front of him. Jason nodded, confirming her prediction. She looked him up and down once before latching onto the vibrant color of his eyes. Her lips flipped into a smile only for a moment. "Try the apple turnovers, you'll never want to leave here afterward."

Before Jason could speak again, she was gone. For the first time since showing up in that small town, he wore a small smile on his face. A smile that he would have for the rest of his trip there, the one just for her. A smile that he didn't know could bring so much joy in his life in such a short period of time.

"I'll have the apple turnovers, please."

I could be asking for too much But wouldn't it be nice to soak up a little sun But only be engaged for a couple of months And then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

Jason enjoyed the beach far more than he imagined he would. The sounds of the waves were louder than the ringing of gunshots in his head. The warmth that he craved lingering on him even in the late hours of the night. He didn't realize how one tiny place could bring him so much peace.

No one stared at the scars that laced him, no one questioned why he was there or where he came from. Everyone minded their own business - something he never got when he was in Gotham. Someone was always up his ass on what he was doing or chastising him for his choices.

Jason frowned as a shadow covered him, completely blocking the rays of the sun from hitting his body. He already had evidence of tan lines along the hem of his shorts and around his sunglasses. The pale scars against his skin protruded even more. He sat up on his elbows and removed his sunglasses to see who was interrupting him.

To his surprise, it was the same girl that he had met at the bakery. Her hair was pinned back in a braid, showing off her beauty even more. Jason's breath caught in his throat upon seeing her again. Her whole being screamed welcoming - and he didn't get that feeling easily.

"I see you've stuck around a little longer yet," She spoke. Jason bobbed his head, unable to produce any words. There was something about this girl that had him flustered without even trying. Maybe it was the innocence in her eyes - the incorruptible smile she had. Jason didn't want her to step foot near Gotham and taint that heart of hers - and he didn't even know anything about her.

"Was it the baking or the beach?" She continued on, hoping to get a word out of him. He hadn't spoken their last encounter either. Jason had piqued her interest - not many people came to their little town and certainly none as attractive as him. There's was a mystery around him and she was dying to know what.

Jason grew up with the intention of not to trust anyone. Even before he met Bruce, Jason knew that he could only ever rely on himself. After being Robin, he really knew that to be true. Trust didn't come easily to him anymore, but this girl... he wanted to be able to trust her the moment he laid eyes on her.

"The warmth," Jason finally coughed out. It was the first thing that came to mind. The pit had traumatized him - in all the expected ways of course - but never feeling warm or cold was something he never realized he could miss. The hot sand, the sun beating down on him, he really did make him want to stay.

"It's only June," she cocked an eyebrow. "Mid-July is when it gets really hot." Jason shrugged - how was he supposed to know? Either way, he wouldn't be sticking around long enough to see if she was right. His trip was already nearing its end. The short time did good on him - not that he would want to admit that to Artemis.

"I won't be around that long," Jason's voice cracked. His cough, once again, failed to cover it up; why was he acting this way? Smarten up, you can't even keep yourself composed to a girl? What's wrong with you, man? "Just taking some time off... work."

Work, if that's what you wanted to call dodging bullets and breaking bones. Jason shuddered at the idea of even thinking these thoughts around this girl. The nameless girl that he knew nothing about but felt entitled to trust. The girl that grinned down at him without knowing his story.

"Strange place to come vacation." Though the beaches were nice, not many people knew of her small town. It was the exact reason that Jason choose it. No one to know his name or his face. "Not much to do unless you've lived here your whole life."

"That's the point." His mind was always so busy that having nothing to do, nothing to keep him going... it was a hard adjustment but he already found himself sleeping more hours of the night. Jason hadn't known this girl in the slightest, so how come he felt like it was easier to talk to her than half the justice league?

"Well, if you're looking for something fun, there's mini-golf down the road," she pointed towards the general direction. "Though, you don't really look like the kind of guy that decides to mini-golf."

"Oh?" Jason chuckled. The sound surprised both of them - he never expected to spontaneously laugh at some little comment about his appearance. More so, she didn't expect someone as broad as him to have such a beautiful laugh. It caught her off guard.

This time, she fumbled over her words, "I mean maybe you are. Are you? Do you wanna go? Like right now? We can." Her eyes darted away from him, hands shoved in her pockets to keep them from fidgeting. Truth was, they never got men that looked as gorgeous as him coming by.

It was the 'we', that caught his attention. His heart skipped a beat, that same stupid smile making it's way onto his face again. Jason tipped his sunglasses back down on the bridge of his nose. The towel he was laying on was wrapped around his shoulders as he stood up. She looked taken aback by his height - forgetting from the last time that they met.

He stuck his hand out of her to shake, "If we're going to go play mini-golf together I think we're due for a proper introduction. I'm Jason."

The girl accepted his handshake after a moment of surprise. She wasn't sure if it was from the fact that he agreed to her pathetic attempt to ask him out or that she realized that they didn't even know each other's names. He was so approachable that she had had completely forgotten that they didn't know each other previously.

"(Y/N), (Y/N) (L/N)."

It's the middle of July, and my phone's been dry I'm in my feels, it's cloudy outside Small town A bunch of hills around with all the girls in my location Nowadays its hard to find new ones to talk to I need a chick who wants to get away with me Spend the weekends on the beach and get lost in the city

Jason always liked driving through the countryside. When he was young, Bruce or Alfred would offer to take him for a relaxing drive when he was stressed about his school or even his life as Robin. It reminded him of the times he got lost in his own head when he was young, wishing for better places.

To finally get to see these so-called better places in real life was always a little too surreal for him. He spent his childhood thinking about the beauty of the oceans, the rolling of mountains, and the vast forestry that lurked outside the city limits. It always seemed a treat when he would get to go with Bruce.

He hadn't gone much after coming back from the Lazurus Pit. Driving with no purpose now only let him get lost in his thoughts - often scary places within. Jason didn't like to get pulled back to the horrid memories of what happened to him. Driving alone always led to some sort of panic and he couldn't bare it anymore.

Driving with her was different.

In Jason's next week in that small town, he got to know (Y/N). Her life, her story, everything that a complete stranger didn't need to know. He learned about the school that she went to and her life growing up there, and how desperate she was to get away to the big city. He grew to learn her likes and dislikes, the faces she made when she laughed or was upset.

He picked up on the way her nose scrunched when she didn't like something and her nervous finger cracking. The differences in her smile - when she forced one out and when she felt genuine. He couldn't get her out of his mind. Not when they parted ways for the day, not when he was trying to sleep at night, not until they met up again the next morning.

They had spent nearly every breathing moment together during his trip. Their mini-golf spontaneous adventure led to a dinner of greasy burgers and late-night milkshakes. She was surprised that he was so willing to stick around that night, even to the point that he was asking to see her again tomorrow.

So, they met again, just outside the bakery they first met. And the next day. And the day after that. On the morning of the second last day that he was supposed to leave, she showed up with a woven basket and a smile on her face. A picnic. Of all things that Jason thought he would be doing that day, a picnic wasn't one of them.

Driving along the countryside, windows down, Jason was happy. Their picnic basket sat in the backseat of his car, (Y/N)'s summer playlist blaring through the speakers. The wind blew through her hair, exposing every perfection in her face. Jason could barely keep his eyes on the road.

While Jason didn't like driving these empty roads alone anymore, he found joy with her. He didn't get flashbacks of the time he was beaten to death or his past as a kid. He remembered the good times with Bruce and Alfred, he had created of new memories with her. Those were the kinds of drives he could get used to.

"What?"

Jason didn't realize he had been staring at her. He laid on a blanket that she had brought, tall grass all around them. She leaned back on her hands, watching the waves below on the cliff that they were perched upon. (Y/N) looked down at him upon feeling his gaze. His admiration ran deep.

"What?" He repeated her question.

"You're staring," she grinned. In the past few days, (Y/N) had noticed him zone out a lot. Sometimes lost in his own mind, sometimes a deep concentration on her. She knew bits and pieces of the reason he was there, about his family and friends. He was still just as big of a mystery as when they first met.

"Hard not to," Jason flirted. He laid down on his back, arms tucked behind his head and staring up at the cloudy sky. She mocked his actions, laying exactly like him. Their elbows bumped into one another, legs brushing just enough to know that she was still right there. He didn't mean to flirt with her, it just came out of his mouth so naturally that he couldn't stop himself.

(Y/N) got quiet suddenly. Her laugh quickly diminished, the smile on her face turned to a frown. As much as fun as she had getting to know Jason these past few weeks - he was leaving. Leaving to what seemed halfway across the world and too far away to keep in contact. She had made a good friend in him - only to have it torn away.

It was her own doing, she knew that he was there for only a matter of days. Maybe it was the big heart inside her that wanted his vacation to be fun, or the reality of it was maybe she just liked him a little too much to let go after one confrontation.

"What's wrong?" Jason asked, concern filling him. They had such a great afternoon - long drives, good food, laughs that filled the vast void that they had found themselves in. He couldn't have asked for anything more perfect - and he assumed that she felt the same.

"Nothing," she tried to brush off. Jason leaned on his side to face her. His head rested in his hand as he gazed at the pout on her lips. (Y/N) turned to face him. He matched her pout - being a little overdramatic about it and successfully getting her to smile. "It's just... you're leaving, and I had such a great time with you these past few weeks. I always dread come home from school, but you've made it fun.

"I know you were only come here for a short trip - and that you were trying to relax and I hijacked that from you - but I just wanted to say thanks for making these past few weeks great. I'm gonna miss you, Jay," (Y/N) confessed. Part of her felt bad for completely overtaking his vacation. He was there to be by himself, and she ruined that.

The truth was - she made it far better than he could ever imagine. For the first time in a long time, Jason wasn't weighed down by the heavy helmet that sat in his closet. Sure - he didn't get to sit on his ass and soak up the sun like his original intentions were - but his time was far better spent.

He was happy during his time there.

Maybe, maybe he was a little too happy. Seeing her frown, the way her voice cracked when she spoke of him leaving, it made broke his heart. He didn't want to see her upset, not because of him. Jason's mind ran with thoughts and before he could stop himself, he spoke.

"What if I stayed?"

"What?"

"What if I stayed? For the summer?" When Jason asked again, he was sure that he wanted to make that commitment. If his friends and family wanted him to take a break, then why not go all out? Why not take this chance for him to be happy, especially when it was handed to him on a silver platter like this.

"You're crazy," She rolled her eyes. Jason's face was set in stone - he was being serious about this. (Y/N) faced him properly, she was already upset about him leaving, having this joking around would only make it worse. "You... you wanna stay? But what about Gotham? Don't you have your work-"

"Gotham can live a while longer without me," Jason assured, cutting her off. "I haven't been this happy in a long time. Why not stay a little longer? Unless you don't want me to-"

"No!" She exclaimed. "No, no - I really, I really like the idea of you sticking around." Jason didn't realize that she could look cuter than she already was. He was wrong. Her flustered-unable-to-properly-function look had been far more adorable than he would have ever imagined.

"Do you now?" He teased, trying to get even more of a reaction out of her. (Y/N) buried her face in her hands to try and hide her embarrassment. Jason gently grabbed her wrists to pull her hands away from her face. Her eyes were still sealed shut, scared to see that he was just kidding about staying.

To her surprise, instead of some absurd excuse as to why he actually needed to go back home, that he couldn't stay with her, she felt the softness of lips on hers. He had been thinking about it all afternoon; how good she would feel against him, what the taste of her lips was like.

As quick as his kiss was, he was gone. Jason already felt like he was overstepping his boundaries, he didn't want to make her uncomfortable from his sudden choice. (Y/N) looked at him with shock across her face, she didn't know that he thought of her that way. Hell, she still didn't.

All she knew, was that the second his lips were gone, she craved them again. Jason was pushed back against the blanket by the force she had. His hands grabbed her hips, holding her steady as she kissed him again. Her lips were needy against his like she had been waiting for this moment since they had first met.

He could feel the heat radiating off of her. The same kind of warmth that he felt for the first time when he was surrounded by sand. The same warmth that reminded him of what his life was like when he was happy. Her warmth, everything about her reminded him of those times.

Jason felt droplets of water against his skin. The coolness of the rain felt like it would sizzle against the warmth of his skin. It didn't seem to bother her - not until the sparse drops turned heavy. The clouds above them had quickly turned dark, and rain poured from the sky. It soaked their clothes, the blanket they laid on.

(Y/N) pulled away from him, droplets falling down her face and onto him. A grin was plastered on her face. "We should go," she giggled. Jason nodded; the rain was making all his clothes stick to him in the worst kinds of way. He grabbed the basket while she bunched the blanket up into her arms. They were thrown into the trunk of his car but before she could run off into the passenger's seat and safe from the rain - Jason pulled her against him.

He leaned down to kiss her once more, not caring about the rain just the everlasting heat that she gave. Her hand latched against the back of his neck, kissing him until her lungs screamed for air. She pushed against his chest, edging him to the driver's side of the car.

"You're something else, Todd."

I've been looking for a summer love A pretty, single girl who wants to have a little fun But only be engaged for about three months Then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

"You know you've played this song four times within the last hour, right?"

"Are you dissing my music choices? Because if you are, the door is right there, you're free to leave."

Jason was leaning against the headboard on his bed. A book was in his hands, reading lines that made his heart skip beats because they reminded him of the girl rest against his stomach. (Y/N) looked up at him, peeking below the book he was reading. Her music played in the speaker she had brought for him.

"I'm free to leave? This is my room!" Jason exclaimed. He set the book down beside him to give his proper attention to (Y/N). She intertwined his now free hand, resting them both against her stomach. Her head tilted up, lips pouted, and awaiting a kiss from him. Jason happily complied with her wishes. "May as well be your room with the amount of time you spend here."

"Fine, I'll take my playlist and find someone new that appreciates it," She threatened. Jason tightened his grip on her hand, keeping her on his bed. Of course, he knew that she was only joking, but even the thought of her leaving upset him. "Hmm, that's what I thought. Not so tough after all."

As big and intimidating that Jason looked, (Y/N) quickly learned that he was by far the biggest softie that she had ever met. His love for literature, cooking, and an appreciation towards art and creativity. He was nothing that he looked like on the outside. Every time she learned something about him it was shocking.

"Yeah, yeah," Jason rolled his eyes. His arms slipped around her waist and he pulled her completely flush against his chest, his leg was thrown across her and no chance of getting out. He peppered her neck and face with kisses, squeezing her tighter as she let out a laugh at him. "Didn't picture you to be such a sap," (Y/N) squirmed around in his arms until she was able to face him. Jason swooped down for another kiss before she could continue - which only proved her point even more. She pushed away the hairs from his face, lingering on the white streak that protruded through the black. "Leather jackets, big and burly, deep voice," she tried to mimic his own voice.

"Let's keep that between us, I have an image to uphold." (Y/N) rolled her eyes at him - whatever image he once had was long gone the moment he met her. "Hey, don't roll your eyes at me."

"Oh? What if I do it again?" She grinned. Jason narrowed his eyes. Over the time that he had been with her that summer, he quickly learned that she loved to test him. Pressing his buttons to get a reaction, doing the exact opposite that he asked off, she loved seeing him get all pouty and frustrated. "Gimme another kiss and I won't."

Jason wasn't going to complain about that kind of deal.

I could be asking for too much But wouldn't it be nice to soak up a little sun But only be engaged for a couple of months And then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

"You were right."

"Geez, I don't hear you say that very often," (Y/N) chided. She laid on her back, the sun beating down on her skin with Jason doing the same beside her. The sound of children laughing and screaming overpowered the waves that beat against the shore. It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, the perfect weather to be on the beach.

Jason hadn't spent much time on the beach after meeting her. In fact, he barely spent any time apart from her. Consumed with each other in less than two months - he could never get enough of her. She quickly became his everything while being on his trip.

The stress of being The Red Hood dwindled, Artemis' advice might have worked a little too well. Jason was so happy being away from his old life that the thought of having to go back, to leave her, kept him up at night. He didn't want to leave this somehow perfect 'white picket fence' life that he had made for himself in such a short time.

The reality of his life remaining this way was slim. Something would come up or the truth would come out. He couldn't keep living like this, not forever. For now, he would appreciate the summer fling that truly was changing his life for the better.

"It's far hotter mid-July," Jason revealed. He thought he felt warmth that first week of being there, now, he could get the residual sun rays to leave his skin even if he wanted to. Whether he felt them directly or radiating off (Y/N)'s body at night, he was always consumed with warmth.

He'd miss it when he had to leave.

"Hmm, that's not what I was hoping you'd admit, but I'll take it," she looked over at him. Jason leaned over to peck her lips. (Y/N) knew that was going to be the only confession that she got out of him that afternoon. Jason didn't like to admit that someone else was right - she learned that early on.

"What were you hoping I'd admit?" Jason raised his eyebrows. There could have been a ton of answers coming out of her mouth. Why he was so secretive, why he tensed every time she went near his closet, why he was always so hesitant to talk about his job or his family. He was a mystery - and he hated that he had to keep it that way.

They were both better off if he kept it that way. Two months of being together, and one until she had to go back to school, and he had to go back to Gotham. Whatever life-threatening secrets he had; he was going to keep them hidden from her. This trip was about finding an escape - and he had found it in her.

(Y/N) shrugged before laying back down, sunglasses covering her eyes. Jason shuffled closer towards her; he grabbed her hand so he could intertwine their fingers. The roughness of his skin caught her attention once more. She didn't move until Jason kissed her again, this time properly and more than just a single peck.

"Maybe it was that I wanted to admit that I love you?" Jason spoke. He had been thinking about it for days. A love that he had never experienced before. This wasn't a love that would last a lifetime - till death do him part. This was an innocent summer love that he wanted to take full advantage of.

Jason couldn't see the look in her eyes, not with the sunglasses covering half her face. (Y/N) wasn't shocked - not in a cocky way. They had been spending all their time together, she had been just as invested in this summer love as he had. To be honest, she didn't expect him to say it first.

(Y/N) stayed imperturbable for just a moment too long. Jason became nervous that his announcement had been far too soon - or if their relationship even called for it at all. It wasn't until the ear-to-ear smile that spread on her face that he knew that she felt the same. (Y/N) nearly leaped onto Jason, not caring about the families and couples that were around them.

Her lips were on his, the smile never failing to leave her face. Rushed lips, bumping noses, Jason grabbing at her hips like his lifeline. His cheeks were flushed pink when she pulled away from him, chest heaving at the lack of air.

"I love you too, Jay," she confessed. "Sometimes. You're really a pain in the ass when you wanna be."

Jason feigned a look of hurt. Without missing a beat, he stood up and hoisted her over her shoulder in one swift movement. (Y/N) squealed as he headed towards the water. She reeled her hand back and slapped it against his ass, hoping that he would drop her from the action. It didn't work - at all.

As soon as he was deep enough in the frigid cold water, Jason dropped (Y/N). She was soaked from head to toe, teeth chattering from the cold. No matter how hot it was outside, the water was yet to warm up for the day. Jason barely felt the cold against his legs - or his whole body when she dragged him down with her.

"I take it back!" She yelled. (Y/N) climbed against Jason's back, clinging to him in hopes to get most of her body out of the water. Her arms wrapped around his broad chest, legs squeezing around him. "You bitch."

"Can't take it back babe, you already said it," Jason teased. He turned his cheek to the side, awaiting a kiss from her. Begrudgingly, she did. "I love you."

Don't recommend me a phone application I'm to old school for online dating A friend's pressing me to download the app 'Cause there's some woman in my zone that down to get (aye)

Lost touch with all the girls in my city I'll probably never find someone I'm way too picky Back in June I had this fling I wasn't feeling Ever since I cut ties my iPhone's been dry

It seemed as Jason's trip felt more and more permeant, their deadline also became too surreal. It was weeks until (Y/N) would have to leave her hometown once more to go back to school. In return, Jason would have to return back to Gotham as the Red Hood. Time was ticking, but that wasn't going to stop them from making the best of their last few weeks together.

There was something about the time that they spent together that made him forget about his life in Gotham. He forgot the pain that he had to endure. Forgot about the nightmares that woke him up. Forgot about the scars that were scattered across his body. Jason couldn't be more grateful.

(Y/N) had helped him immensely, and she didn't even know it. She didn't know the real reason that he came to this town, or why he had chosen to stay for longer. It was because of her lack of knowledge that he was reminded of the good in the world. There was no motivator, no dire need to help a poor soul like him.

She did it because she wanted to. (Y/N) dedicated her summer to him because she genuinely enjoyed his presence and wanted to get to know him - not because he was the son of Bruce Wayne or because he was The Red Hood. She knew Jason Todd, the real Jason Todd that very few people got to see.

"Whatcha thinking about, hotshot?"

Jason stood in his tiny kitchen. It wasn't much, but it sufficed for the time that he was staying there. His home - the house he was staying in - was only meant to be for a couple of weeks. With his time being extended, it proved to be problematic in mundane ways. His issues now were trying to get an open washer and the laundromat instead of dodging bullets.

Was this what his life would have been like if Bruce never took him in? Unlikely. Jason was just a kid off the streets, he never would have made it there if Bruce hadn't taken him in. He wasn't sure if that kid on the streets would be proud of the person he was today. It didn't matter, there was nothing that could be done to change it.

Jason was always going to be stuck in the life of the Red Hood. Nothing was going to change that. Nothing could change that. Not a person, not a wound, not even dying stopped him from being in this life.

(Y/N) wrapped her arms around him from behind. Her cheek rested against his tone back, fingers trailing on the curves of his muscles. Jason rested his hand over hers, a smile making its way to his face once more.

"Well I was trying to make you breakfast in bed, but I guess now it's just breakfast," Jason sarcastically told her. He spun around to grab her hips and lift her onto the last empty counter space. As per usual, one of his shirts hung off her body. "Sleep well?"

"With you? Always," she nodded. Jason didn't want to think about how bad his sleep was going to get upon his return home. He had been sleeping solidly through the night and going back to his usual nightmares and lack of hours pained him. For the first time in a long time, he felt filled with life again. "You didn't have to make me breakfast, you know?"

"Of course I did," Jason scoffed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. How could he not make breakfast for a beautiful girl sleeping in his bed, in his clothes? "What kind of Gentleman would I be if I didn't?"

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. Gentleman. Jason laughed at her reaction, the sound echoing through the small room. She trailed her fingers along the curve of his biceps before planting her palm against his cheek. He quickly pecked her lips before returning to the stove.

Jason intently focused on the pancakes in front of them, hoping to make a perfect flip. After his success, a small box was placed in front of him. (Y/N) had a grin on her face as she watched his confusion grow from the box in her hand. He raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"Come on did you really think you could hide your birthday from me?" She explained. Jason nearly forgot his birthday every year. Age didn't seem to matter after everything he's been through. If it wasn't for Dick being so persistent on getting him a gift every year, he'd ignore it completely.

(Y/N) gestured for him to grab the box from her. "You didn't have to get me anything," Jason gave her a look. He didn't want a gift; he didn't want to celebrate or anything of the sort. Reluctantly, he grabbed the small box from her hands and pulled the string to open it. Inside, a silver chain laid.

It was simple and somewhat reminded him of the one his brother wore day-to-day. However, looking at it closer, he noticed a small chain was replaced with a solid link. The small initial of (Y/N)'s name was engraved on it. "I know what you're thinking, kind of narcissistic to get my letters engraved on it but... with us leaving in a couple of weeks I just wanted you to have something to remember this summer by."

Jason felt his jaw tremble for a moment. He could hear the pain in her voice at the idea of them splitting ways. The meaning behind the gift that meant more than she would ever know. He set the gift on the counter and brought her into a bone-crushing hug. Jason didn't like celebrating his birthdays, but this was the best gift he could have received.

His head was nuzzled into the crook of her neck, trying to hold back the emotions that ran through him. "I take it you like it?" She tried to joke. Jason nodded against her. He took a deep breath to calm himself before pulling away. His hands rested on her cheeks, admiring every bit of beauty.

"I love you," Jason kissed her. His heart swelled with love. "This summer... I'll never forget it. I just, I just want you to know that this summer meant everything to me. I can't thank you enough for everything that you've done."

"You don't need to thank me, Jay. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect summer. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect summer love. You changed my life... You made me happy and that's all I wanted. I should be thanking you for deciding to come to this shitty little town. Maybe it was fate, maybe I just have ridiculously good luck. Either way, I'm glad I got to get to know you, Jason Todd."

I'm still looking for a summer love A pretty, single girl who wants to have a little fun But only be engaged for about three months Then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

Jason couldn't stop the memories of last summer from flooding him. Every building he passed, every street he went through, all he could think about was her. Her smile, her laugh, the annoying way that she too adorable for her own good. He was consumed with the thought of her again.

Although parting ways nearly ten months ago was hard, they both knew that by the end of the summer they would have to say goodbye. The love that they had was nothing but a summer love, and as much as neither of them were really ready to let go - it was for the best. Hearts weren't broken that day, they were filled with a reminder that even a summer love can prove that there's always someone out there.

It hurt less that day than it did for Jason driving through. He had no intentions of coming back - not when he was sure that if they saw each other again, he wouldn't be able to leave again. It was a spontaneous choice that led him back there, one that he hoped he wouldn't regret.

His friends and family asked him a countless amount of questions on why he was gone so long and what he had been doing. Jason held out, he couldn't care to tell his family of what he had done with his time. That was his privacy, and he intended to keep it that way. The last thing he needed was his brothers knowing that he stayed for a girl.

A girl that changed him, made him happy. A girl that encouraged him to be his best self. Sure, they had noticed his change in attitude, his willingness to smile more often, to laugh louder. It was Dick that pestered him to no end to figure out what had happened to him. Hell, he didn't even know where his little brother was.

Artemis was glad to see him happy again. She was the only one who didn't interfere with his personal life. The only one that was just happy to see him happy, without needing to know the why. He appreciated that.

Jason stopped at the place that they had first met - the bakery. It was a different woman in there than usual, much younger but far crankier than the kind lady that made Jason feel welcome. He ordered two apple turnovers - just as (Y/N) had recommended him.

He sat out on the bench just outside the bakery. A reminder of the hours that they could spend there, stuffing their faces with donuts and laughing at everything imaginable. The heat of the mid-July sun beat down on him, filling him with the warmth he hadn't felt since he left there.

Why was he so nervous to go see her? (Y/N)'s home was less than a mile's walk away and yet Jason couldn't bring himself to move his legs towards her. It was as if he was meeting her for the first time again and fuck was he nervous.

Subconsciously, Jason grabbed the chain she had bought him. He spun it back and forth against his neck, remembering back to the day that she had given it to him... and the day that they had said goodbye. He never took it off after that day - not for anything. It always remained tucked under his shirt as a constant reminder.

Jason sighed. His elbows rested on his legs and he looked down to the ground. God did he miss her. He knew that he shouldn't, that they had a love with a deadline. He knew that from the start, he told himself that he wouldn't get hurt by it - and he wasn't. Leaving the town wasn't the issue, being back in Gotham wasn't either.

It was coming back. A mistake that he chose to make.

"I know that white streak anywhere," a familiar voice spoke. They blocked the sun from shining down on him. Jason looked up, a smile on his face at the woman in front of him. "Jason, it's so good to see you."

Jason couldn't tell whether he was happy or disappointed that the woman in front of him wasn't (Y/N). The kind lady from the bakery stood in front of him. She looked weaker than the last he has seen her - which may have explained the reasoning for her lack of work. He slid over on the bench and offered her a spot next to him.

She waved her hand, "I can't be staying, but thank you," she told him. "I assume you're back here to see (Y/N)?"

Jason let out a breath - it didn't seem real being back there until he heard her name again. "Yes, Ma'am."

"I'm sorry, dear," She spoke. "(Y/N) didn't come back this summer. She stayed at school." Jason felt his breath catch in his throat. School, further away from Gotham than her hometown was. He should have known that she would - she talked about it all summer. Wanting to stay in the city, find work, make a life for herself.

Jason knew that. He knew that she wouldn't be back there. Yet, he had come anyway hoping to see her again. His heart cracked. This was for the best. (Y/N) (L/N) was a summer love. No communication, no texts or calls since he left. That was the deal. It was easier for both of them that way.

"It's good to see you again, Jason. You've grown up even more since last year," The lady from the bakery gave him one last smile before entering the shop. She paused at the door, looking back at him. "Summer loves don't always have to end in the fall, not if you don't want it to end."

No, they didn't have to end. They could go on for years and years - no longer a summer love but a true love. But at what cost? Jason's life was disastrous. He had told himself from the start that he didn't want her brought into it, even if it meant giving up his slice of happiness. He couldn't break that promise.

Summer loves didn't have to end, but in his life, he had no other choice.

I could be asking for too much But wouldn't it be nice to soak up a little sun But only be engaged for a couple of months And then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd oneshot #jason todd x reader #jason todd one shot #red hood #red hood imagine #red hood oneshot #fluff #dc one shot #dc imagine #dc #summer love

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lov3nerdstuff · 3 years ago

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Hi Kay!

I just wanted to take a moment and say how deeply moving (and overall comforting) I find your writing to be! I've gone through almost the entirety of your masterlist twice in the past month alone and have found myself returning more often to the pieces of literature/poems your reference sometimes. (Especially that one poem by Benedict Smith! I've read a few more by him because of you and they're just wonderfully lovely 💛 so I'm eternally thankful to you for including it.)

I may be wrong in assuming, but I believe you may have studied/are currently studying a degree involving literature. I hope this isn't too foreward of me but I was wandering if you have any other works of literature that you'd recommend? (I'd love to read anything you recommend from poems to plays 💛) I'm slightly embaressed to say but the works I've read are quite limited to a highschool level and since I'm currently studying Pharmacy, there are very few people who can recommend me such moving works. :)

I also feel like I should apologise for writing such a large ask, so please accept this apology as well hehe 💕🥺

Sincerely,

Bek 🌻

Hey there Bek 💚💕✨

First of all... I'm incredibly sorry for how long it took me to reply to this ask, I know you sent it weeks ago and I'm honestly just ashamed of myself for only replying now! I've been taking a bit of a Tumblr break again, or rather a break from literally everything, and I guess not having written anything in a while made me feel guilty whenever I opened Tumblr, so... All I can say for myself really is that I'm sorry you had to wait so long! Again, I never ever ignore anyone, I promise! It just sometimes takes a while for me to reply 😅🙈

Now, I'm so happy to hear that you've been enjoying my writing! 🥺🥰 Hearing that it's comforting and inspiring to you is honestly such a relief and indeed does make me happy more than I can say 💚 It's so cool that you're checking up on all the references I make aaahhh 🥺🥺🥺 I love it 😁 You're always more than welcome, love! I don't think I could stop including references to literature, culture, history and the science around it even if I tried 😅☺️

And yeah, I did study classics and newer literature as a minor for my undergrad degree 😄 But tbh I still work with literally a lot even now (I'm in grad school for media and cultural studies) even though it's technically not something I've been properly taught ☺️ I'm just a nerd who likes to learn on her own, and with media and culture you can pretty much delve into almost anything you want 😂😅🤷🏻‍♀️

Now, it's not forward at all to ask me for literature recommendations! 😁😃 I truly love recommending stuff!!! I have a few up my sleeve, even though you've probably heard of a few already, for obvious reasons: A lot of what I truly enjoyed reading was something Tom Hiddleston has worked on in one way or another! It's truly a magnificent guideline for picking new literature... Just look up the literary origins of his films/shows/plays and you will be in for quality literature most of the time! I don't think I've ever mentioned it on here, but me reading High-Rise (JG Ballard) because I heard Tom would be partaking in the film adaptation was actually what sparked my love and passion for literature!!! Yep, it's that good. Now on to the recommendations though 😁(This... got rather long):

Plays

Anything by Harold Pinter really, but for obvious reasons you'll find a lot of additionally fun stuff for Betrayal, which is lovely and truly funny if you're in on the kind of humour btw

Medea by Euripides (a classic, but I love it nonetheless... You can find translations in almost every language) ((and pls stay away from Seneca's Medea, because ugh... Euripides is far better AND the og story, as much as anyone can say that for Greek mythology)

La Bohème by Puccini (I know, this is technically an opera, but if you read the libretto it's honestly just like a play... And if you're up for it, the og story is in prose and written by Henri Murger... It's better than the opera, but oftentimes more difficult to find) ((this one is hilarious and basically explains an entire cultural subgroup in the 19th century)

Faust by Goethe (many people hate it, but I LOVE this one!!! It's also been translated into any and every language, and it's so interesting philosophically!!! It's also referenced SO freaking often literally everywhere, and the operas and ballets based on it are always my fave) ((there's technically Faust I and Faust II, but you're good to go just reading the first one)

Anything by Shakespeare, obviously... Though I do love me my Hamlet like every other literature enthusiast (Yes, I can do that one famous soliloquy in act 3 scene 1 by heart as well...)

Poetry

Again, anything Shakespeare for the win, but I LOVE the sonnets and keep a copy of them with me most of the time (Yes, I own multiple copies of the sonnets...) ((My faves are 116 and 91, but there's always so much truth to be found in there!!!))

A lot of the stuff William Blake wrote is amazing, though you have to pick carefully with him if certain religious motives aren't your thing... I love The Tyger, which is an individual poem, and the collection of works called Tyger, Tyger which does have many good ones and a few ones that are a little more on the mediocre side

Do not go gentle into that good night by Dylan Thomas (I know this one by heart as well... It's beautiful, and there's a version of Hiddleston reading it on YouTube, which gives you even more goosebumps than the poem does anyway)

Invictus by William Ernest Henley (same for this one, also read by the one and only) ((I love to read this when I'm feeling down or powerless))

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T. S. Eliot (This is another wow piece with many quotable lines and truths... I love it a lot and keep coming back to it! It's also a great example of how literary modernism tried to condense the complexity and passing of time and history into a single frame that had to be intrinsically poetical in nature... As in, this poem could've been a short story in any other period, but modernists loved to make everything a poem so here you go)

Der Zauberlehrling by Goethe (This one sucks in all English translations I’ve found, poetically speaking, but in German it’s such a fun piece! If you’ve ever seen the Disney ‘The Sorcerer’s Apprentice’ with Mickey Mouse or listened to the orchestral piece by Paul Dukas, then this poem proves very useful in truly understanding either! But again, the English translation should only be taken for informational value... The German one is also worded hilariously)

Prose

Short edited by Alan Ziegler (This is a collection of short prose forms that honestly is a must for me... I love this book to pieces and have had it for years now! It’s an international anthology, so you’ll find more and less famous authors from all around the world represented with short stories, prose poems, short essays and just curious and interesting snippets of writing! I draw a lot of inspiration from this book)

High-Rise by JG Ballard (As mentioned above, I owe this book part of my personality... I don’t think I would be the same person without having read it. It’s not necessarily full of wisdom, but if you’re interested in a different kind of portrayal of the human condition, then this is the read you need to take a look at)

The City of Dreaming Books by Walter Moers (This is another piece that changed my perception of literature, even though this is a more ordinary and ‘fun’-value read... It’s one of my favourite books and it’s endlessly entertaining! So if the classics are a bit heavy for you, this one is perfect for casual readers as well! Its value really does lie more in the realisation of how fun literature can be, and the freedom you have as an author... So really, I could recommend everything by Moers, his style is amazing both in the German original and in the English translation. Yes, I’ve read both.)

Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett (This is comedic gold, stylistic gold and generally a bloody perfect book. Also a ‘fun’-value read, but it also does a magnificent job at showing you what you can do with literature, and how well-developed characters are supposed to be written)

The Penguin Book of the Undead (Penguin Classics) edited by Scott G. Bruce (This book is basically an education on fifteen hundred years of supernatural encounters and how culture wrote, used and perceived them. You get introductory texts for different periods and social groups, explaining how and why ghost stories were written and used, followed by passages of the prime source texts (eg. ancient necromancy shown on The Odyssey). Really, this book is just for cultural history nerds)

The Earthquake in Chile by Kleist (This isn’t necessarily one of my faves, but it has helped me understand what studying literature and culture can do for you. In case anyone remembers my insistence in Wicked Game that you gotta know what a pomegranate symbolises... this novella is such an instance where this knowledge would prove useful. Generally, it gives many opportunities to think about privilege and circumstance)

The Symposium by Plato (You’ll probably not want to read the entire collection of speeches tbh... But the concepts introduced mainly here and in some of Plato’s other work are well worth looking into! For example, the ‘double being’ introduces a concept that in modern fiction is called soulmates... Just sayin’)

#literature #lit rec #recommendation #literature recommendation

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gothamstodd · 4 years ago

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hi there love!🥺 I was wondering if I could request a jason todd x reader, perhaps a little enemies-to-lovers trope with some angst resulting in an uber fluffy n sweet love confession(‘: thank you so so much!! have a lovely day!

ah!! thank you! I gotchu ;;;)

“Bet you can’t beat me back to the cave, Hood.” You grinned, glancing over at Jason with a grin. He looked back at you from beneath his domino, the helmet tucked under his arm. He was panting, sweat shining on his brow from the fight the two of you had just won.

“You’re on.” He dropped the cigarette he’d only just lit, crushing it beneath the twisting toe of his boot.

“Ugh.” You swung your leg over your bike, “That is such a turn off.” You said, glancing at the crushed cigarette on the wet pavement, disgust wrinkling your brow.

“Luckily, you’re one of the only people in Gotham outside of my family that I don’t want to fuck.” He replied, putting his helmet back on.

You rolled your eyes, “You’re such an asshole.” You scoffed, revving your engine impatiently.

“You like it.” He sang, finally mounting his motorcycle.

“Ready,” You said together, the action practiced and familiar, “Set,”

The wheels of Jason’s bike screamed on the pavement and drowned out your betrayed yell, “Hey!”

You set off after him. “That’s cheating, Red.” You growled into the comm.

“You didn’t see it coming?” He asked, laughter in his voice. “I thought you were supposed to be a ‘great detective’ just like the rest of these assholes.”

You took a sharp turn off the road, the sound of your engine echoing on the walls of the alleyway you’d entered and roaring in your ears. A few more turns and you were pulling back onto the mainanz road, just in time to cut Jason off.

“Hey!” He yelled, echoing the inflection you’d had only minutes ago, “Shortcuts are against the rules!”

“C’mon.” You grinned, weaving around a minivan, “You didn’t see that coming?”

“Oh,” He groaned, “Fuck you.”

“Could we keep the banter to a minimum, you two?” Dick’s voice crackled to life on the comms, he was manning the computer while Alfred and Barbara were busy, “It’s worse than watching you suck face.”

Jason made a gagging sound, “They wish.”

“Please.” You sneered, “Get over yourself.”

“Never-” The end of Jason’s response was cut off by a bout of static and a strong ringing in your ear.

“Hood?” You spoke almost at the same time as Dick, panic in your voice.

Grunts and crashes greeted you on the other side.

“Red Hood, report.” You spat, eyeing the road carefully before taking a hard u-turn around a median.

Relief filled your gut when his voice pulled past the static, “Busy- argh!” It was quickly pulled away by the yell of pain that hit your ear. You searched both sides of the road for Jason, but there was no sign of shining red or battered brown leather.

“Jason?” He asked, almost softly. There was no response. You pulled of the road and brought your bike to a stop. “Wing, can you track his comm?”

“Working on it.” He replied, the sound of a keyboard clacking softly following his nervous words. “Okay, take the next left, he’s about a block down.” You set off again, speeding toward the the intersection. “Need me to call in back up?”

“I don’t know yet.” You answered, anxiety making your breath shake. “Give me just a minute.”

Turning onto the street Dick had described, you immediately caught sight of it, Jason’s motorcycle on it’s side, an armored truck turned to block the road, and cars stopped on either side.

“Yeah.” You said into your comm. On top of the truck stood Two Face, a massive gun in his arm and henchmen scattered around the clearing. “We need back up.”

You described the scene in front of you to Dick, still unnoticed by Two Face and his crew. Finally, your eyes landed on Jason, laying prone on top of the truck in front of Two Face, the villain’s shining dress-shoe pressing down on his chest.

All thought of strategy and planning flew out the window and you found yourself throwing a shuriken hard at the man’s good ear.

He ducked away as the large cut began oozing blood. “You bats are like cockroaches.” He growled, “When you see one, there’s bound to be a flock.” He aimed his gun at you but you were already diving for cover behind the corner of a building. A spray of bullets followed your leap to safety, tearing apart the concrete at your feet.

“Hopefully.” You murmured to yourself, letting a few more shurikens loose around the corner. Two-Face’s shrieks of pain echoed on the Gotham sky scrapers. You snuck around the building and behind a henchman on the other side, catching him by surprise and quickly disarming him before knocking him to the ground.

“One down, six to go.” You said into your comm.

“Robin, Spoiler and I are about one minute away.” Tim’s voice reached your ear.

“They’re heavily armed.” You warned, though ease began to slip back into you at Tim’s assurance.

There was a pained grunt from the other side of the road, “Two down.” Stephanie chirped.

“You’re fast, Spoiler.” You smiled, coming up behind another gunman.

“You know me.” You could practically hear the smirk in her voice, along with more crashes and grunts, signaling the arrival of Tim and Damian.

Their affirmations that the remaining four gunmen were on their way to unconsciousness gave you the confidence to move out into the open. “Two Face is mine this time.” You snarled, beginning to climb up the back of the truck.

“Actually, pretty sure he’s mine.” When you poked your head over the top, you found Jason standing there instead of Two-Face, their roles reversed with the rogue at his feet.

“You’re okay.” You hefted a relieved sigh, pushing yourself on top of the truck. “You scared me, asshole.”

“So you do care.” He teased, you could tell he was grinning beneath the hood.

“Don’t get used to it.” You exhaled, cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

“I won’t- ungh.” Hardly a moment passed and he’d fallen to his knees, gloved hand pressing into his side.

You rushed forward, kneeling at his side. “Jason!” Blood was rushing through you again with the same worry that had filled you when static had first hit your ear from his line, pumping erratically through your veins.

You shoved the helmet from his head, pressing two fingers to his neck in search of a pulse. “What’s wrong? Where are you hurt?” You demanded.

He lifted his hands from his side to reveal blood drooling sluggishly over his body. “It’s just a graze.” He answered weakly.

He groaned when you pressed your hands to it, shoving down on the injury with harsh determination. “When did this happen?”

“I wanted to take a short cut.” He chuckled, stomach jumping under your hands with each weakening laugh. “Got a little off track.”

You shook with some raging concoction of emotions; anger, worry, nerves. “You asshole.” You shook your head.

Tim was at your side in a second, stony faced as he helped move Jason down to Damian and Steph’s waiting arms. Together you maneuvered him into the back of the bat mobile, trying to ignore the whimpers of pain that fell over his lips at the sensation of being jostled. Within moments, Tim was speeding down the streets and you were leaning over Jason, still pressing your hands into his wound.

“Hey.” He caught your attention with the gentle word, its tone out of character, soft.

“What?” You asked, brow furrowed as you met his eyes.

He flushed, trying to push away the urge to look away and keep his mouth shut. “Before I... uh, kick it-”

“You’re not going to ‘kick it’.” You pressed, scanning his face desperately. “We’re on our way to Leslie’s, you’re going to be fine.”

He shook his head, ignoring your words, “I should tell you,”

“Now’s not the time to tease, Jason.” You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, feeling tears pricking at them and hating the sensation.

You felt his gloved fingers around your wrist, slick with blood as he gripped onto you. “No, I’m serious.” He grunted, staring hard into your eyes. He paused for a moment, pulling a trembling breath through his teeth, “I like you.”

You wanted to lift your hand to hit him, “Jason, I know you never actually hated me,” You sighed, “It’s just banter. You are such an ass-”

He interrupted you, sitting up in a feat of determined strength to press his lips desperately to yours. You kissed him back without even a moment’s hesitation, the feeling of his lips on yours throwing waves of electricity down your skin, a childish giddiness filling up your gut.

“Oh.” Your cheeks flushed as he fell back into the seat beneath him, panting softly with a lopsided grin on his face.

“Yeah.” He replied wearily and his eyes flicked shut.

He’s fine btw. I just didn’t know how to write that part lol. I hope you liked it!

GIVE ME A PROMPT

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nitrateglow · 4 years ago

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Favorite films discovered in 2020

Well, this year sucked. I did see some good movies though. Some even made after I was born!

Perfect Blue (dir. Satoshi Kon, 1997)

I watch a lot of thrillers and horror movies, but precious few actually unsettle me in any lasting way. This cannot be said of Perfect Blue, which gave me one of the most visceral cinematic experiences of my life. Beyond the brief flashes of bloodletting (you will never look at a screwdriver the same way again), the scariest thing about Perfect Blue might be how the protagonist has both her life and her sense of self threatened by the villains. The movie’s prescience regarding public persona is also incredibly eerie, especially in our age of social media. While anime is seen as a very niche interest (albeit one that has become more mainstream in recent years), I would highly recommend this movie to thriller fans, whether they typically watch anime or not. It’s right up there with the best of Hitchcock or De Palma.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly (dir. Sergio Leone, 1966)

Nothing is better than when an iconic movie lives up to the hype. Clint Eastwood, Eli Wallach, and Lee Van Cleef play off of one another perfectly. I was impressed by Wallach as Tuco in particular: his character initially seems like a one-dimensional greedy criminal, but the performance is packed with wonderful moments of humanity. Do I really need to say anything about the direction? Or about the wonderful storyline, which takes on an almost mythic feel in its grandeur? Or that soundtrack?

Die Niebelungen (both movies) (dir. Fritz Lang, 1924)

I did NOT expect to love these movies as much as I did. That they would be dazzlingly gorgeous I never doubted: the medieval world of the story is brought to vivid life through the geometrical mise en scene and detailed costuming. However, the plot itself is so, so riveting, never losing steam over the course of the four hours it takes to watch both movies. The first half is heroic fantasy; the second half involves a revenge plot of almost Shakespearean proportions. This might actually be my favorite silent Fritz Lang movie now.

Muppet Treasure Island (dir. Brian Henson, 1996)

I understand that people have different tastes and all, but how does this movie have such a mixed reception? It’s absolutely hilarious. How could anybody get through the scene with “THA BLACK SPOT AGGHHHHHHH” and not declare this a masterpiece of comedy? And I risk being excommunicated from the Muppet fandom for saying it, but I like this one more than The Great Muppet Caper. It’s probably now my second favorite Muppet movie.

Belle de Jour (dir. Luis Bunuel, 1967)

I confess I’m not terribly fond of “but was it real???” movies. They tend to feel gimmicky more often than not. Belle de Jour is an exception. This is about more than a repressed housewife getting her kicks working as a daytime prostitute. The film delves into victim blaming, trauma, class, and identity-- sure, this sounds academic and dry when I put it that way, but what I’m trying to say is that these are very complicated characters and the blurring of fantasy and reality becomes thought-provoking rather than trite due to that complexity.

Secondhand Lions (dir. Tim McCanlies, 2003)

The term “family movie” is often used as a synonym for “children’s movie.” However, there is an important distinction: children’s movies only appeal to kids, while family movies retain their appeal as one grows up. Secondhand Lions is perhaps a perfect family movie, with a great deal more nuance than one might expect regarding the need for storytelling and its purpose in creating meaning for one’s life. It’s also amazingly cast: Haley Joel Osment is excellent as the juvenile lead, and Michael Caine and Robert Duvall steal the show as Osment’s eccentric uncles.

The Pawnbroker (dir. Sidney Lumet, 1964)

Controversial in its day for depicting frontal nudity, The Pawnbroker shocks today for different reasons. As the top review of the film on IMDB says, we’re used to victims of great atrocities being presented as sympathetic, good people in fiction. Here, Rod Steiger’s Sol Nazerman subverts such a trope: his suffering at the hands of the Nazis has made him a hard, closed-off person, dismissive of his second wife (herself also a survivor of the Holocaust), cold to his friendly assistant, and bitter towards himself. The movie follows Nazerman’s postwar life, vividly presenting his inner pain in a way that is almost too much to bear. Gotta say, Steiger gives one of the best performances I have ever seen in a movie here: he’s so three-dimensional and complex. The emotions on his face are registered with Falconetti-level brilliance.

The Apartment (dir. Billy Wilder, 1960)

While not the most depressing Christmas movie ever, The Apartment certainly puts a good injection of cynicism into the season. I have rarely seen a movie so adept at blending comedy, romance, and satire without feeling tone-deaf. There are a lot of things to praise about The Apartment, but I want to give a special shoutout to the dialogue. “Witty” dialogue that sounds natural is hard to come by-- so often, it just feels smart-assy and strained. Not here.

Anatomy of a Murder (dir. Otto Preminger, 1959)

I’m not big into courtroom dramas, but Anatomy of a Murder is a big exception. Its morally ambiguous characters elevate it from being a mere “whodunit” (or I guess in the case of this movie, “whydunit”), because if there’s something you’re not going to get with this movie, it’s a clear answer as to what happened on the night of the crime. Jimmy Stewart gives one of his least characteristic performances as the cynical lawyer, and is absolutely brilliant.

Oldboy (dir. Park Chan-Wook, 2003)

Oldboy reminded me a great deal of John Webster’s 17th century tragedy The Duchess of Malfi. Both are gruesome, frightening, and heartbreaking works of art, straddling the line between sensationalism and intelligence, proving the two are not mutually exclusive. It’s both entertaining and difficult to watch. The thought of revisiting it terrifies me but I feel there is so much more to appreciate about the sheer craft on display.

Family Plot (dir. Alfred Hitchcock, 1976)

Family Plot is an enjoyable comedy; you guys are just mean. I know in an ideal world, Hitchcock’s swan song would be a great thriller masterpiece in the vein of Vertigo or Psycho. Family Plot is instead a silly send-up of Hitchcock’s favorite tropes, lampooning everything from the dangerous blonde archetype (with not one but two characters) to complicated MacGuffin plots. You’ll probably demand my film buff card be revoked for my opinion, but to hell with it-- this is my favorite of Hitchcock’s post-Psycho movies.

My Best Girl (dir. Sam Taylor, 1927)

Mary Pickford’s farewell to silent film also happens to be among her best movies. It’s a simple, charming romantic comedy starring her future husband, Charles “Buddy” Rogers. Pickford also gets to play an adult character here, rather than the little girl parts her public demanded she essay even well into her thirties. She and Rogers are sweet together without being diabetes-inducing, and the comedy is often laugh out loud funny. It even mocks a few tropes that anyone who watches enough old movies will recognize and probably dislike-- such as “break his heart to save him!!” (my personal most loathed 1920s/1930s trope).

Parasite (dir. Bong Joon-ho, 2019)

This feels like such a zeitgeist movie. It’s about the gap between the rich and the poor, it’s ironic, it’s depressing, it’s unpredictable as hell. I don’t like terms like “modern classic,” because by its very definition, a classic can only be deemed as such after a long passage of time, but I have a good feeling Parasite will be considered one of the definitive films of the 2010s in the years to come.

Indiscreet (dir. Stanley Donen, 1958)

Indiscreet often gets criticized for not being Notorious more or less, which is a shame. It’s not SUPPOSED to be-- it’s cinematic souffle and both Ingrid Bergman and Cary Grant elevate that light material with their perfect chemistry and comedic timing. It’s also refreshing to see a rom-com with characters over 40 as the leads-- and the movie does not try to make them seem younger or less mature, making the zany moments all the more hilarious. It’s worth seeing for Cary Grant’s jig (picture above) alone.

The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (dir. Joseph Sargent, 1974)

This movie embodies so much of what I love about 70s cinema: it’s gritty, irreverent, and hard-hitting. It’s both hilarious and suspenseful-- I was tense all throughout the run time. I heard there was a remake and it just seems... so, so pointless when you already have this gem perfect as it is.

They All Laughed (dir. Peter Bogdonavich, 1981)

Bogdonavich’s lesser known homage to 1930s screwball comedy is also a weirdly autumnal movie. Among the last gasps of the New Hollywood movement, it is also marks the final time Audrey Hepburn would star in a theatrical release. The gentle comedy, excellent ensemble cast (John Ritter is the standout), and the mature but short-lived romance between Hepburn and Ben Gazarra’s characters make this a memorably bittersweet gem.

The Palm Beach Story (dir. Preston Sturges, 1942)

Absolutely hilarious. I was watching this with my parents in the room. My mom tends to like old movies while my dad doesn’t, but both of them were laughing aloud at this one. Not much else to say about it, other than I love Joel McCrea the more movies I see him in-- though it’s weird seeing him in comedies since I’m so used to him as a back-breaking man on the edge in The Most Dangerous Game!

Nothing Sacred (dir. William Wellman, 1937)

I tend to associate William Wellman with the pre-code era, so I’ve tried delving more into his post-code work. Nothing Sacred is easily my favorite of those films thus far, mainly for Carole Lombard but also because the story still feels pretty fresh due to the jabs it takes at celebrity worship and moral hypocrisy. For a satire, it’s still very warm towards its characters, even when they’re misbehaving or deluding themselves, so it’s oddly a feel-good film too.

Applause (dir. Rouben Mamoulian, 1929)

I love watching early sound movies, but my inner history nerd tends to enjoy them more than the part of me that, well, craves good, well-made movies. Most early sound films are pure awkward, but there’s always an exception and Applause is one of them. While the plot’s backstage melodrama is nothing special, the way the story is told is super sophisticated and expressive for this period of cinema history, and Helen Morgan makes the figure of the discarded burlesque queen seem truly human and tragic rather than merely sentimental.

Topaz (dir. Alfred Hitchcock, 1969)

Another late Hitchcock everyone but me seems to hate. After suffering through Torn Curtain, I expected Hitchcock’s other cold war thriller was going to be dull as dishwater, but instead I found an understated espionage movie standing in stark contrast to the more popular spy movies of the period. It’ll never be top Hitchcock, of course-- still it was stylish and enjoyable, with some truly haunting moments. I think it deserves more appreciation than it’s been given.

What were your favorite cinematic discoveries in 2020?

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bluegarners · 4 years ago

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Oooh for the bingo card can I pick survivors guilt with dick feeling guilty cause he ran away from home just like Jason but he lived while Jason died 😢

ahhh sorry this took awhile to get to!! i hope you enjoy this though~ requested for my Bad Things Happen Bingo ; it is also on ao3

Survivor's Guilt

The days bleed into one another to the point where it’s almost offensive, how indistinct and indiscriminate each sunrise and subsequent sunset is. A little boy died and the world carries on like nothing happened. Like his life was nothing less than the lawn being mowed or a tree being cut down. Is there an analogy Dick’s forgetting about, comparing dead children to nature? He’s not sure, he’s just tired, and the days continue to bleed into one another.

Monday is actually Thursday and Dick looks in the mirror and traces the bruise on his face. There’s a line in the fading purple blob that’s just the slightest bit darker. Knuckle indents. He saw it coming but he didn’t do anything. It was… just a punch. He applies some ointment and looks away. A little boy died and he’s still taking care of a tiny little injury, hardly an injury, it’s nothing, it’s nothing, because-

It’s four in the evening and Dick just woke up. It’s not a good habit to fall into, to sleep so late, do so little, think about dead little boys and missed funerals, but Dick can’t help it. Sometimes, he loses time within the bleeding days, just sits down for a moment and then an alarm goes off to remind him that it’s morning now and that he should be getting up to do… something. Go somewhere. Take care of things. But what? But what? Dick only just sat down, it doesn’t seem fair for the world to demand he be pulled this way and that when it already took a child, already took someone that never graduated tenth grade.

What do people learn in tenth grade? They’re just children, and Dick can’t remember much from his Gotham Academy days, so he really hopes they aren’t put under too much pressure. They’re all just so young, tenth graders, so young and youthful and there’s really no reason for them to be bogged down with work or stress from education. Life was infinitely more important than some late homework and Dick wonders if the school requires missing assignments from dead children. Wonders what they do with that extra, empty desk or the absent name on the roster. Wonders if they just shove another kid into their place, cross out the name for attendance, and carry on like the rest of the world seems to have.

What’s more, what do the friends of the dead child do? Do they mourn? Mourning seems so sad for the young, it's got no place in their view, and yet Dick remembers mourning, grieving when he was just nine but it was all so wrong. Dick hopes that the friends of the dead child are okay. Dead child. Dead little boy. Dead tenth grader.

He heard the funeral was nice. Heard that the school hosted a vigil. Of course, he wasn’t able to attend. Wasn’t extended the invitation to attend, but it’s not about him. It’s about the dead boy.

Dick has never been comfortable with children. Not in the sense that he finds them strange or annoying or that he can’t stand youth. He’s just not comfortable with the sheer light, with people who possess so much of it that it literally oozes out in all the things they do. Leaks out from their innocent smiles, their troubled and off-handed questions, their zest for adventure, yearning for dreams so much larger than themselves, their endless compassion for others, their infinite amount of crushes, their worry about deadlines and asking someone out on a date, their constant need to keep up with trends of the day; so many light things that Dick hasn’t touched in so long. So many things he feels like he shouldn’t be allowed to touch.

You were lucky.

Was he? Dick doesn’t think he was, but then again, he’s not a dead little boy with a specially made coffin to fit his small, under-developed, never got the chance to reach a growth-spurt, body. Being Batman’’s partner was terrifying. He remembers it being scary, not knowing if he was going to live through the night or if Batman was going to go off on another rampage because Dick screwed up. Not knowing if screwing up as Batman’s partner meant no longer being welcomed as Bruce’s ward.

How many times has it been now? Twice? Three times?

A key is gone from his chain now and its missing weight burns holes in all of Dick’s clothes. It’s a finality that feels just as permanent as the dead little boy’s gravestone.

A size six and a half pair of sandals sit on the edges of Dick’s tiny balcony. He has a no shoe policy in his apartment, hardly cleaner than the streets below, but it was the principle that counted right? No muddy boots, no dirty sneakers, no rain logged socks, none of that. So Dick keeps a pair of size six and a half sandals on his balcony in case a size six and a half wearer decides to waltz in.

Dick wears a size eleven.

He’ll have to get rid of them at some point. There’s no reason for them to stay there, collecting dust or peeling away whenever it rains. They weren’t even that good of a pair, just some knock off brand he found at a convenience store once, so keeping them for their worth isn’t that important. He spent the entirety of seven dollars on them, so really, he’s not strapped for cash and he can’t wear them himself and he’s sure that some homeless kid or anyone really would be happy to have them. He could just donate them, throw them in a box and leave it outside for the trash to pick up. He could. He could.

He can’t.

They aren’t his. They belonged to someone, someone very important, and he can’t just throw them away. You don’t throw away a dead little boy’s shoes just because they can’t wear them anymore. His parents always taught him to respect the dead, respect their belongings, and those sandals aren’t his so he’s got no say in what to do with them. It’s fine if the dead child’s shoes stay out on Dick’s balcony. It’s fine. He doesn’t go out there much anyway. The shoes are so tiny, only a size six and a half, and Dick can hardly get half of his foot in a size so small and they belong to a dead boy anyway so he shouldn’t touch them. Shouldn’t touch the dead child’s shoes.

He’s distancing himself on purpose. It’s a lot easier to say a dead little boy, a dead child, than it is to admit a name belongs to such a ghastly title. There are so many other words, so many other titles infinitely more fitting for a child than dead, and yet it’s the only one that describes him in this moment. Dead. Gone. Passed.

There used to be a box shoved away in the back corners of his closet. A cramped and banged up cardboard box containing every memory he had from being Robin. There used to be a picture of his parents in there, a cracked glass frame and a stained photo all he had left from Haly’s; there was his old costume from the circus, the same one he wore on the night where the sawdust turned black and he learned what sounds a body makes when it hits the ground; there was a small photo album in there too, pictures Alfred took of Dick’s time at the Manor, of his time as Bruce’s ward. Sometimes he’ll flip through its pages and feel that sting in his eyes, feeling the ghostly fingers of longing cradle his head through each memory every pristine photo contained.

And, most importantly, in that old, worn out, and beat up cardboard box, was Robin. Red, green, and yellow. Shorts and a velcro cape. Boots he doesn’t know how he ever fit into. A vest that would be impossible to get around his shoulders now. The crest, the emblem. Robin.

It was supposed to stay in that box. Remain there for the rest of his days, leave behind a child soldier and trade it out for a freelancer looking for a new war to fight. A new landscape to reshape and hone as his own. But then another little boy, taller than when Dick started out, appears in the night and leaps and frolics and laughs by Batman’s side. Stands over Gotham and gloats and jeers and grasps Robin almost perfectly.

And for the first time, Dick understands the horror that plowed into every other superhero out there when he first debuted as Robin. Understands the numbing terror of the thought of a child, someone who probably didn’t know how to do calculus or read Shakespeare or tie their shoes correctly, out there fighting the dirtiest and darkest sides of the world. That someone with a shoe size of six and a half was out there punching rapists, getting up close with drug lords and traffickers, witnessing and investigating crime scenes and analyzing gore and blood spatters.

Just a child. Just a little boy.

It feels wrong. So, so wrong, to give his blessing to someone who’s just barely hit puberty. Who’s still struggling to perfect a Robin cackle or speak without his voice cracking and pitching wildly. It’d make him a hypocrite not to though. He was younger, so much younger, when he started out as Robin, so who is he to stop an almost teenager from being Robin?

Well, actually, Dick is an adult. His frontal lobe is completely developed, he can pay taxes, drink, vote, organize his own affairs, drive, buy cigarettes, make his own decisions. Help others make decisions. Jas- the dead boy was just that. A boy. He had no idea how to do any of those things, much less think about them for the next few years, so how can he just allow a child to decide if they want to traumatize themselves, bleed themselves dry, for a city that doesn’t love them and devote themselves to a man’s mission that hasn’t changed in over a decade?

But even if he hadn’t given his blessing, the boy would have been Robin anyway. Remember? Dick has no say in anything to do with Robin. Anything to do with Gotham. No, all that was taken away the moment he stepped out of line, stepped out of the conformity and obedience Batman demanded. The blessing… it was just a formality for something Dick had never wanted to continue. Robin was supposed to disappear with him, die with him leaving Gotham, and yet…

Robin died anyhow.

There’s a dead little boy that used to be named Robin buried in a cemetery with a beautifully carved gravestone that just wanted the child to rest in peace, sleep well, and dream of a better life. And Dick gave his blessing for him to die as Robin.

The days still bleed into each other, melting and drifting over and mixing until the sunrises and sets in the same minute. Dick keeps losing time and people keep calling him but he just forgets to pick up the phone to answer. He can’t help but stare at his balcony, can’t help but stare at the empty space in the box, can’t help but listen to his own heartbeat and watch the way his chest expands as his lungs do.

He is alive. Alive when he probably shouldn’t be.

Robin was not meant to last. Dick has told himself that over and over again, the clear and simple fact that Robin was not meant to carry on. Born through the same circumstances as Batman, Robin was supposed to be nothing more than a temporary outlet but Dick got addicted and now he can’t stop. Now his thoughts loop around and around and all he can think about is a dead child wearing his Robin uniform and running out in the night with his blessing.

You were lucky.

Bruce was right. He was lucky. Lucky beyond belief that he survived being Robin. Lucky he stuck around long enough to learn what he needed to and then some under Batman’s tutelage, only to be fired and leave a gaping hole behind that was just calling for a replacement. Screaming for someone to fill the void, beckoning the ears of the young and naive to answer its call. Of course a child would answer. Of course someone eager and looking for love and praise and meaning would find their way there.

And perhaps Dick used up all the luck, all the magic, Robin gave. Used it all up and without a care in the world for who would be next to wear the cape, parade the emblem, because now there’s a dead little boy in the ground and his blood stains Dick’s hands.

Maybe if he had died as Robin instead, died in those early days where he was nine and filled with moxy undeserved, it would have served as warning enough to stay away from Batman. Stay away from Robin. Stay away from the beckon of being a child soldier. And, really, it wouldn’t have been all that bad if he had died so young. If he had died after Zucco was found because then he would have been with his parents, would have been reunited with his family again.

Dick isn’t sure he believes in the after life, if there are places like Heaven and Hell, but sometimes he hopes there is because there is a dead little boy in his arms and he is desperate for the hope that he has a good place to go to. To move on to.

But Dick’s not dead, still very much alive and breathing through working lungs with blood pumping through his veins, and now he’s not only outlived his time as Robin, but the next as well. He has outlived a child.

How do you outlive your own legacy?

He can’t call the dead child his brother. They’re not, legally, and Dick didn’t bond with him like brothers should. He tried, tried to after the initial shock and horror, bought size six and a half sandals, helped with homework, lent an ear to vent to, but it wasn’t enough.

Somehow, a dead little brother is so much worse than a child and Dick can’t give him another title to cling to. Can’t assign another name and still…

Jason is dead. Dick missed his funeral, missed it all, and his name is Jason Todd and he was only fifteen when he died and god, Dick wishes he had been a better brother. Wishes so badly he had never given his blessing, never lived through being Robin, because that would mean Jason would have never had to die and he would be in Dick’s place, simply breathing and alive and that’s… that’s all he can ask for.

The days continue to bleed into each other and the bruise slowly fades away into his skin.

The sandals remain on the balcony.

#bad things happen bingo #survivor guilt #Dick Grayson #Jason Todd #Jason Todd is Robin #Robin #Nightwing #tw: canon death #i posted this same thing earlier but i thought i lost the ask for it #turns out it was just buried #fanfic #my fic

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