#and anyway Bruce would disagree with you too

[amethystarachnid]

Thank you for writing my little Tony story 🤍

If it's not too much, can you write a second part for me please? Tony and reader finding out the baby's gender, Tony surprising her with a beautiful surprise proposal, maybe the other Anvegers can even help 🤍 the marriage and the baby's birth? 🤍🤍🤍 I lobe family man Tony too, it's so cute 🤍🤍🤍

Thank you!

ACCIDENTS HAPPEN - part II

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 6.4k

ᯓ★ Summary: it's almost time for the baby's arrival so Tony decides that it's the perfect time to propose, as he drops to one knee you're sure you've found your happy ending,

ᯓ★ TW(s): childbirth

ᯓ★ I love family man Tony so much, matter of fact, I love every character seen as a family man I don't know why lol.

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The baby shower is shaping up to be a bigger event than you ever expected, though you probably should’ve seen it coming. With the Avengers involved, nothing is ever subtle. Tony, of course, is no help in scaling things back. In fact, he’s leaning into the chaos, throwing out extravagant suggestions like hiring live performers or setting up a drone fireworks display. You shoot most of his ideas down, insisting that this is a baby shower, not a red-carpet event.

Still, the excitement is infectious. Natasha takes charge of the planning—she’s surprisingly good at it, efficient and precise, down to the last detail. She ropes Bruce into helping, and the two of them become the only ones who know the baby’s gender. The rest of the team, including you and Tony, are kept in the dark, much to Tony’s annoyance.

“I don’t see why I can’t bribe Banner,” Tony grumbles one afternoon as he paces the kitchen. “He’s a terrible liar, anyway. A few drinks, a little sweet-talking, and he’d spill.”

“Good luck with that,” you reply with a smirk, stirring a cup of tea. “Natasha would kill him if he said anything. And you know she could.”

“Fair point,” Tony concedes, though he still looks annoyed. “Still, I’m calling it now: it’s a girl. She’s going to be brilliant, gorgeous, and way too smart for her own good. Just like her mom.”

You raise an eyebrow, amused. “Oh, really? Because I’m thinking it’s a boy. Stubborn, full of energy, and probably way too much like you.”

“Not possible,” he says with mock seriousness. “There’s only room for one of me in this world.”

Clint chimes in later that evening when the team gathers in the common room, his feet propped up on the coffee table as he munches on a bag of chips. “I’m betting on a boy,” he says, pointing a chip in your direction. “Gotta have someone to teach archery to. Plus, Stark with a son? That’s comedy gold.”

Thor, who’s been helping decorate the living room with streamers and balloons (many of which are Asgardian-sized), disagrees. “A daughter would be most fitting,” he declares, his voice booming. “She will have the strength of her father and the grace of her mother. A true warrior!”

Steve, predictably, tries to stay neutral. “I think you’ll be happy no matter what,” he says diplomatically, though there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes as he looks at Tony. “That said, I wouldn’t mind seeing Stark try to handle a teenage girl someday.”

“God help us,” Natasha mutters with a smirk.

On the day of the baby shower, the compound is transformed. There are decorations everywhere—streamers in pastel pinks and blues, balloons shaped like baby bottles, and a banner reading Welcome, Baby Stark! stretched across the main wall. The table is laden with food, drinks, and an elaborate cake that looks too beautiful to eat. There’s even a pile of gifts in the corner, ranging from practical items like diapers and onesies to absurdly expensive gadgets Tony probably ordered himself.

Natasha and Bruce are the picture of calm, though you know they’ve been coordinating the big reveal for weeks. The two of them exchange knowing looks every time someone tries to guess the baby’s gender, clearly enjoying their role as gatekeepers of the secret.

The main event comes after everyone’s had their fill of food and games, including a hilariously chaotic round of diaper-changing races featuring Steve and Thor. Natasha steps forward, holding a small box wrapped in neutral-colored paper. She taps a spoon against her glass to get everyone’s attention.

“All right, everyone, it’s time,” she says, her tone firm but playful. “Y/N, Tony, come up here.”

You exchange a glance with Tony, who’s grinning like a kid at Christmas, and follow Natasha to the front of the room. Bruce joins her, carrying what looks like a smoke cannon with pastel-colored confetti inside.

“Are we sure Banner knows how to use that?” Tony whispers to you, earning a chuckle.

Natasha ignores him and gestures for Bruce to hand the cannon to Tony. “This is simple,” she says. “On the count of three, you twist it. The confetti will tell you the gender. Got it?”

“Got it,” Tony says, his grip tightening on the cannon. He looks at you, his grin softening into something tender. “Ready, sweetheart?”

“Ready,” you reply, your heart pounding.

The room buzzes with anticipation as Natasha begins the countdown. “Three… two… one!”

Tony twists the cannon, and an explosion of pink confetti fills the air, raining down in a sparkling shower. The room erupts into cheers, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at the cloud of pink with wide eyes.

“A girl,” you whisper, your voice breaking slightly as the reality sinks in. “We’re having a girl.”

Tony turns to you, his grin splitting his face as he pulls you into his arms. “I told you,” he says, laughing as he spins you around. “I knew it!”

You’re laughing now too, tears streaming down your cheeks as the team gathers around, offering congratulations and playful jabs. Thor claps Tony on the back hard enough to make him stumble, while Clint pretends to look disappointed but quickly admits, “She’s probably gonna be cooler than a boy anyway.”

Natasha smirks, crossing her arms. “Told you it was worth the wait.”

As the excitement settles and the confetti begins to drift to the floor, Tony kneels in front of you, his hands resting gently on your growing belly. He looks up at you, his expression soft and filled with a kind of awe that takes your breath away.

“Hey, baby girl,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear. “It’s official now. You’ve got one hell of a team waiting for you out here. But you know what? Your mom and I? We’re the lucky ones.”

Your heart swells, and you reach down to run your fingers through his hair. In that moment, surrounded by your friends, your family, and the overwhelming love in Tony’s eyes, you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

The nursery preparation becomes a joint project, though you suspect Tony might be using it as an excuse to turn every design meeting into a spectacle. It starts with a simple conversation over breakfast about colors and furniture, but within hours, Tony’s drawing up blueprints for a room so high-tech it could double as a lab.

“Tony,” you say, leaning over his shoulder as he sketches a design for a mobile with holographic planets orbiting a glowing star. “This is a nursery, not the International Space Station.”

He turns to you with an exaggerated look of shock. “Why settle for ordinary when our baby can have the universe in her room? Imagine it—she’ll look up and be inspired every night.”

You can’t help but smile, even as you roll your eyes. “She’s not going to care about any of this for at least a few years. Let’s focus on a crib that doesn’t look like it’s from the future, okay?”

“Compromise,” he says with a smirk. “The crib will be traditional. The rest? Cutting-edge Stark tech.”

Choosing the color scheme turns into its own adventure. You veto pink almost immediately, wanting something more neutral and calming. “What about soft blues and grays?” you suggest one afternoon as you hold up a paint swatch.

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Blues and grays? What is she, a baby or a Zen monk? Let’s go bold—deep purples, maybe some gold accents.”

“She’s a baby,” you remind him with a laugh. “She needs soothing, not a nightclub.”

Eventually, you settle on a compromise: a soft starry theme with muted blues, silvers, and whites, accented by golden stars and constellations painted along the walls. Tony insists on installing a custom ceiling projector that will display a moving galaxy, complete with twinkling stars and nebulae, for bedtime. You draw the line at installing an AI assistant in the room—at least for now.

The naming debate, however, proves to be even more challenging.

It starts casually one evening as you both lounge on the couch, flipping through baby name books. “Okay,” you say, running your finger down a list. “How about something classic? Elizabeth? Grace?”

Tony shakes his head. “Too stuffy. She’s going to be a Stark; she needs something unique. How about Nova?”

You pause, considering it. “Nova’s not bad,” you admit. “But it feels… incomplete.”

Tony grins. “Well, it’s lightyears ahead of Grace.”

You toss a pillow at him, laughing. “Fine. What else have you got, Mr. Genius?”

He leans back, pretending to think deeply. “Aurora. You know, like the northern lights.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Beautiful, but maybe a bit too Disney princess?”

The conversation goes on like this for days. Tony throws out names like Vega, Lyra, and Andromeda, while you try to steer him toward something more grounded. Neither of you seems willing to budge, though secretly you both enjoy the banter.

It’s during one of these discussions, late at night, that the perfect name finally emerges.

You’re lying in bed, the lights dimmed, and Tony’s hand rests protectively over your belly as he rambles about constellations. “Sirius is too much,” he says, more to himself than to you. “But it’d be cool if we could tie it back to something celestial. Something meaningful.”

You hum in agreement, half-asleep, when a thought strikes you. “Stella,” you say softly, testing the name on your tongue.

Tony freezes, then sits up slightly to look at you. “Stella,” he repeats, his voice thoughtful. “Latin for ‘star.’ Simple, beautiful, and meaningful. I love it.”

You smile, your heart warming at his reaction. “You really like it?”

“I don’t just like it,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “It’s perfect. Stella Stark. Our little star.”

The next morning, you tell the rest of the team about the name, and everyone agrees it’s fitting. Thor, especially, is thrilled. “A name worthy of the cosmos!” he declares, raising his coffee mug like a goblet.

Even Clint, who usually teases Tony at every opportunity, nods in approval. “Stella’s solid,” he says. “Classy, but not pretentious. Good pick.”

As the nursery nears completion and Stella’s name starts appearing on everything—from personalized blankets to a tiny plaque above the crib—you find yourself growing more excited with each passing day. The walls are painted, the furniture is assembled, and Tony’s holographic mobile is, admittedly, a work of art.

One evening, as you both stand in the finished nursery, Tony wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. “You know,” he murmurs, looking around at the room, “we might’ve gone a little overboard.”

“A little,” you agree, though you can’t help but smile.

“But she’s worth it,” he adds, his voice soft as he rests his forehead against yours.

“She is,” you whisper, your heart full.

As the galaxy projector casts a soft glow of stars across the ceiling, you know that Stella is already surrounded by more love and wonder than you ever could’ve imagined.

The shift in behavior starts subtly. At first, you think you’re imagining it—the way Natasha ends phone calls the moment you enter the room or how Clint suddenly has a reason to leave anytime you try to ask what he and Tony were whispering about. Even Steve, who’s usually a beacon of honesty, seems unusually tight-lipped when you catch him and Bruce exchanging cryptic looks during a mission debrief.

Tony, of course, is no better. If anything, he’s the most suspicious of them all. Normally, he shares every detail of his day with you, but lately, he’s been “working late” more often than usual. When you ask what he’s working on, his answers are evasive, laced with a nonchalance that you don’t buy for a second.

“Just tweaking some tech,” he says one evening, typing furiously on a holographic keyboard that he closes the moment you approach. “You know, the usual.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “The usual doesn’t usually involve secretive meetings with the entire team or you hiding your screens from me.”

Tony looks up, flashing you one of his patented grins. “Paranoid much, sweetheart? Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones.”

You roll your eyes, but you let it slide—for now.

The day of the proposal dawns like any other. You wake up to the sound of Tony humming softly beside you, his hand resting protectively over your belly, and you can’t help but smile at the sight of him. At seven months pregnant, your body feels heavier and more tired than usual, but Tony’s been nothing if not attentive—sometimes to the point of hovering. Still, there’s something in his gaze this morning, a kind of nervous energy that makes you suspicious.

“What’s with the grin?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as he leans in to kiss your forehead.

“No grin,” he says, though the corners of his mouth betray him. “Just appreciating how stunning you look, as always.”

“Mmhmm,” you murmur, giving him a skeptical look. “If you’re planning something, Stark, I’ll figure it out.”

He smirks, leaning down to kiss your belly. “No secrets here, baby girl. Daddy’s just got work to do today.”

That afternoon, Natasha convinces you to go out for some “girl time,” which in itself feels suspicious. Nat rarely suggests spa days or shopping trips, but she waves off your questions with a smirk.

“Can’t a friend treat her very pregnant bestie to some pampering?” she says, steering you toward the door. “Besides, it’s not like you have anything better to do while Tony tinkers in the lab.”

By the time you return to the compound, you’re relaxed but even more curious. The hallways are quiet—too quiet—and the usual buzz of activity is strangely absent. As Natasha leads you toward the common area, your suspicions grow.

“What’s going on?” you ask, stopping in your tracks. “Why do I feel like I’m walking into an ambush?”

Natasha just smirks, tugging you forward. “You’ll see.”

The doors to the common area slide open, and your breath catches. The room is transformed. Soft, glowing lights hang from the ceiling like stars, casting a warm, ethereal glow. A pathway lined with rose petals leads to the center of the room, where Tony stands in a perfectly tailored suit, looking more nervous than you’ve ever seen him. Behind him, the rest of the Avengers stand in a loose semicircle, all wearing knowing smiles.

“Tony,” you whisper, your heart pounding as Natasha gives you a gentle nudge forward.

He takes a step toward you, his usual confidence tempered by the kind of vulnerability he rarely shows. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, it’s like the rest of the world fades away.

“Y/N,” he begins, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “You’ve already given me so much. You’ve made me happier than I ever thought I could be, and in just a couple of months, you’re going to give me the greatest gift of all—our daughter.”

You feel tears welling up as he continues, his hand reaching out to take yours. “But before she gets here, I want to give you something, too. I want to give you my heart, my name, my everything. I want us to be a family, officially, because… well, because I love you more than words can ever say.”

He drops to one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket and opening it to reveal a dazzling engagement ring. The diamond sparkles like a star, and you can’t help but gasp.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice soft but firm, “will you marry me?”

For a moment, you’re too overwhelmed to speak. Tears spill down your cheeks as you nod, a laugh bubbling up through your emotions. “Yes,” you finally manage, your voice breaking. “Yes, Tony, of course!”

Tony’s grin is so wide it looks like it might split his face. He slides the ring onto your finger, his hands trembling slightly, and then he’s standing, pulling you into his arms. He holds you close, burying his face in your hair as you cling to him.

“You’re crying,” you murmur against his shoulder, your voice teasing despite your own tears.

“I am not,” he protests, though his voice wavers. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes glistening. “Okay, maybe a little. But don’t tell anyone, all right? I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

You laugh, wiping at your own tears as he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. Behind you, the Avengers erupt into cheers and applause, Clint letting out a loud wolf whistle while Thor raises his hammer in triumph.

“About time!” Clint calls out, grinning from ear to ear.

Natasha smirks, her arms crossed. “Told you she’d say yes.”

Later that evening, as you sit together in the nursery, the engagement ring glittering on your finger and Tony’s hand resting over your belly, you can’t help but marvel at how far you’ve come. He looks at you like you’re his entire world, and for the first time in a long time, you feel like nothing could ever go wrong.

“You’re happy,” you say softly, studying his face.

Tony looks at you, his expression filled with a love so deep it takes your breath away. “I’m more than happy,” he says, his voice low and earnest. “You and Stella… you’re everything I never knew I needed.”

You lean into him, your head resting on his shoulder as the baby kicks gently against his hand. “We love you too,” you whisper, and in that moment, the universe feels just right.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day starts out completely normal—or at least as normal as life gets when you’re living with Tony Stark and the Avengers. You’re lounging on the couch, rubbing your enormous belly, when you feel the first contraction. It’s mild, more like a cramp than anything else, but enough to make you pause mid-sentence while you’re trying to convince Tony that the name Stella is not negotiable for her middle name.

“Everything okay?” Tony asks, looking up from where he’s fiddling with one of his many gadgets.

You nod, brushing it off. “Yeah, just… I think she’s practicing her escape plan.”

Tony chuckles. “Smart kid. Of course, she’s my daughter. She’s already planning ahead.”

You roll your eyes but let the moment pass. That is until another contraction hits—not unbearable, but definitely noticeable. You wince, shifting in your seat.

Tony’s eyes narrow. “Okay, that wasn’t just a practice run. What’s going on?”

You try to play it cool. “I think it might be starting, but it’s fine. First labors take a while. No need to—”

But before you can finish, Tony is up and moving like the house is on fire. “FRIDAY! Get the car! Clear a path! Call Banner! Wait, no, call Bruce AND the hospital! Get Nat to pack a bag—do we have a bag? Where’s the bag?”

You laugh despite yourself, waving a hand to calm him down. “Tony, relax. I’m not even sure it’s—”

Tony is already pacing, pulling his phone out to make calls. “Relax? RELAX? You’re about to bring an entire human into the world, and you want me to relax? You know who doesn’t relax? Tony Stark. I plan. I execute.” He points to your belly. “That tiny genius in there is counting on me!”

Another contraction interrupts your attempt to reassure him, this one stronger than before. You grip the edge of the couch, exhaling sharply. Tony’s eyes go wide, and his face pales.

“That’s it,” he declares. “We’re going now. FRIDAY, where’s the car?”

By the time you get to the hospital, Tony’s nerves are a full-blown circus. He’s barking orders at the nurses, double-checking every piece of equipment they wheel past, and generally acting like a man whose entire world is on the brink of chaos.

“Are those sterilized?” he asks one poor nurse, gesturing to a tray of instruments. “Because I know a guy who can check for microscopic contaminants.”

“Tony,” you groan from the wheelchair they’ve put you in. “Let the professionals do their job.”

“Right,” he says, nodding quickly. “Right. Sorry. Carry on.”

Once you’re settled in the delivery room, the contractions intensify, and so does Tony’s panic. He’s pacing again, alternating between squeezing your hand and apologizing for squeezing your hand too hard.

“Why is this taking so long?” he mutters, glancing at the clock. “Is there a way to, I don’t know, speed this up? I mean, we’ve got science, right? Lasers? Something?”

Your labor nurse gives him a patient smile. “Babies come on their own time, Mr. Stark.”

Tony points at her, dead serious. “I’ll have you know I’ve streamlined multi-billion-dollar manufacturing processes. I could totally streamline—”

“Tony!” you snap, gripping his hand through another contraction. “If you don’t stop talking about lasers and streamlining, I’m going to throw you out of this room.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says quickly, wincing as your grip tightens. “You’re doing great, by the way. Absolutely phenomenal. Ten out of ten.”

As the hours pass, Tony alternates between being overly helpful and hilariously unhelpful. At one point, he tries to "coach" you through the contractions, repeating advice he clearly Googled five minutes earlier.

“Breathe, babe,” he says, crouching next to you. “In through the nose, out through the—OW!” He yelps as you squeeze his hand, your patience wearing thin.

“I am breathing!” you growl. “You breathe!”

“Right, got it,” he says, shaking out his hand. “I’ll breathe quieter.”

By the time you’re ready to push, Tony looks like he’s aged ten years. His hair is a mess, his suit jacket is nowhere to be seen, and he’s nervously chewing on his bottom lip as if he’s the one doing all the hard work.

“Okay,” the doctor says. “It’s time to meet your baby. Dad, are you ready?”

Tony blinks, his face going pale again. “Wait, me? What am I supposed to do?”

“Just stay next to me and try not to pass out,” you deadpan, glaring at him through gritted teeth.

The actual delivery feels like a blur, but Tony’s reactions are crystal clear. As soon as Stella’s first cry fills the room, he freezes, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and disbelief. The doctor places her on your chest, and you look down at the tiny, wriggling bundle of perfection. Tears stream down your face as you cradle her, overwhelmed with love.

Tony leans over, his hands hovering awkwardly as if he’s afraid to touch her. “She’s… she’s perfect,” he whispers, his voice cracking.

You glance up at him, smiling through your tears. “She is.”

He swallows hard, blinking rapidly as if trying to fight back tears of his own. “I’m not crying,” he mutters, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s just… dusty in here.”

“Sure, Tony,” you say, laughing softly. “Whatever you say.”

He finally reaches out, gently running a finger along Stella’s tiny hand. When she grips his finger, his face lights up like you’ve never seen before.

“Hi, baby girl,” he murmurs, his voice trembling. “It’s me. Your dad. I’m the guy who’s going to spoil you rotten and probably embarrass you in front of all your friends someday.”

You laugh again, your heart so full it feels like it might burst. As Tony leans down to kiss your forehead, then Stella’s, you know this moment—this messy, chaotic, perfect moment—is one you’ll never forget.

The ride home is surprisingly smooth, considering Tony’s usual flair for drama. He insists on driving, despite your gentle protests, and the way he handles the car like it’s made of glass is almost endearing. Stella, snug in her carrier, sleeps through the whole thing, her tiny face scrunched in a way that makes your heart ache with love.

“Are you sure she’s breathing?” Tony asks for the third time, glancing back at her in the rearview mirror.

“Yes, Tony,” you reply, trying not to laugh. “Babies sleep. It’s kind of their thing.”

He huffs, clearly unsatisfied. “Well, it’s nerve-wracking. I’m used to things that come with a manual, not ones that just… exist and rely on me not to screw up.”

“She’ll be fine,” you reassure him, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “We’ll figure it out together.”

The Avengers are waiting when you arrive at the compound, their faces pressed against the windows like eager kids waiting for Santa. Even Clint, who normally pretends to be too cool for this sort of thing, looks uncharacteristically excited.

The moment you step inside, carrying Stella in her carrier, they descend like a swarm.

“Oh my God, she’s so tiny!” Natasha coos, her usual stoicism replaced with pure, unfiltered awe. “Look at her little hands.”

Steve grins, leaning down to get a better look. “She’s beautiful,” he says warmly, his voice tinged with a kind of reverence.

“She’s definitely got your nose, Y/N,” Bruce chimes in, smiling shyly. “Lucky kid.”

Even Clint, who’d joked for months about how he wasn’t going to fawn over “just another Stark,” can’t help but soften. “She’s pretty cute,” he admits, though his grin betrays his attempt at nonchalance.

“Cute?” Tony cuts in, feigning offense. “Try perfect. Absolute masterpiece. My finest work.”

You roll your eyes, laughing. “She’s not one of your inventions, Tony.”

“No,” he agrees, his gaze softening as he looks at Stella. “She’s better.”

Thor, meanwhile, looms in the background, looking uncharacteristically nervous. You catch him shifting his weight from foot to foot, his brows furrowed as he watches the others coo and fuss over Stella.

“Thor,” you call gently, motioning him over. “Do you want to meet her?”

He hesitates, his usual bravado replaced with uncertainty. “I am unsure,” he admits, his voice low. “She is so small. What if I… break her?”

Tony snorts. “Relax, Point Break. She’s sturdier than she looks.”

Thor’s eyes widen. “Are you certain? For I have been told I am… exuberant in my movements.”

You can’t help but smile. “You’ll be fine. Just be gentle.”

Carefully, you unbuckle Stella from her carrier and place her in Thor’s massive hands. He cradles her like she’s made of glass, his expression a mix of awe and terror.

“She is… radiant,” he says after a moment, his voice soft. “A tiny warrior in the making.”

Stella squirms, letting out a small gurgle, and Thor immediately panics. “What is this sound? Is she displeased? Have I offended her?”

You laugh, taking her back before his nerves get the better of him. “She’s just waking up. You did great, Thor.”

He exhales in relief, looking visibly proud despite his earlier fear. “Then I shall strive to earn her favor, as a worthy uncle should.”

As the evening wears on, the Avengers take turns holding Stella, each of them surprisingly adept in their own way. Natasha rocks her gently, whispering something soft and sweet in Russian. Steve looks completely at ease, cradling her with a quiet confidence that makes you wonder if he’s done this before. Bruce hums softly, his gentle demeanor soothing Stella when she stirs.

Clint, ever the showman, gets her to grab his finger and immediately declares, “She likes me best. Sorry, everyone else.”

Even Thor eventually works up the courage to hold her again, this time with less fear and more awe.

Tony, meanwhile, hovers nearby, alternating between beaming with pride and trying to direct everyone on the proper way to hold her.

“Support her head,” he says for the fifth time, gesturing like he’s leading a workshop. “And don’t jostle her too much. She’s had a big day.”

“Tony,” you say, placing a hand on his arm to calm him. “She’s fine. Look at her—she’s surrounded by love.”

He glances around the room, taking in the sight of his teammates—his family—cooing and fussing over Stella. His shoulders relax, and a small, genuine smile tugs at his lips.

“Yeah,” he says softly, slipping an arm around your waist. “She’s going to be okay.”

You lean into him, watching as Stella lets out a tiny yawn, completely unfazed by the chaos around her. In this moment, surrounded by your unconventional but loving family, you know she’s going to grow up in the best possible way.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day is perfect—blue skies, warm sunlight, and the hum of excitement in the air as friends and family gather in the garden of the Stark estate for the wedding. You stand in the bridal suite, adjusting the lace sleeves of your gown, the soft fabric hugging your body comfortably enough to accommodate the postpartum changes you’re still embracing. In your arms, Stella squirms, her tiny hands tugging at the delicate veil trailing over your shoulder.

“Mommy’s trying to look fancy,” you murmur, kissing her chubby cheek. “Try not to drool too much on the dress, okay?”

Natasha appears in the doorway, dressed elegantly in a flowing gown but still managing to radiate her usual aura of cool confidence. “Ready to knock Tony off his feet?” she asks with a smirk.

You laugh nervously. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Natasha leans in to take a peek at Stella, who’s now gnawing on her fingers. “And what about you, little one? Ready to steal the show?”

“She’s been ready since birth,” you say, smiling fondly. “I just hope she doesn’t start screaming halfway down the aisle.”

The music starts—soft, romantic, and unmistakably orchestrated to perfection because, of course, Tony insisted on hiring the best string quartet money could buy. You step out into the aisle, holding Stella securely against your chest.

All eyes are on you, but your gaze locks instantly with Tony’s. He’s standing at the altar in a sharp tuxedo, his hair immaculately styled, but it’s his expression that floors you. His eyes are shining, his lips trembling slightly as he takes you in—his fiancée, his daughter in your arms, walking toward him like a vision straight out of his dreams.

When you’re halfway down the aisle, you catch him discreetly wiping at his eyes, though his attempt to play it cool is utterly transparent. You can’t help but smile.

“Crying already?” you tease softly as you reach the altar.

Tony’s voice cracks as he replies, “It’s allergies. Don’t get used to it.”

The officiant clears his throat, gesturing for everyone to sit. You pass Stella to Natasha, who holds her with practiced ease, but not before Tony sneaks a kiss to his daughter’s forehead. “Don’t cause too much trouble for Aunt Nat, okay?” he whispers.

The ceremony is beautiful, filled with laughter, a few tears, and vows that manage to be both heartfelt and hilariously Tony.

“I promise to always make you laugh,” he says, his voice soft but steady. “To build you anything you need—even if it’s just a better coffee maker. And I promise that no matter how big our family gets or how crazy life becomes, you’ll always be the center of my world.”

You smile, your heart full as you reply, “And I promise to keep you grounded—even when you’re flying. To stand by you, even when you’re being insufferable. And to love you, completely, for the genius, ridiculous, wonderful man that you are.”

The guests cheer when you kiss, and you can hear Clint shouting something about “finally making an honest man out of Stark,” but you’re too caught up in the moment to care. Tony’s hands are on your waist, his forehead pressed to yours as he whispers, “You’re stuck with me now, Mrs. Stark.”

The reception is lively, filled with laughter and champagne toasts, but the true star of the evening is Stella. At six months old, she’s the smallest guest but easily the most adored. She’s passed from one Avenger to the next, each of them taking turns cooing and playing with her. Steve lets her grab at his finger, grinning like a proud uncle. Bruce gently bounces her on his knee, her giggles drawing smiles from everyone around. Even Thor takes a turn, holding her aloft and declaring her “the mightiest of babes” before you quickly retrieve her, worried he might throw her like Mjolnir.

Despite the joy of the day, you and Tony find yourselves constantly glancing toward wherever Stella is. When you see her reaching for a cupcake, her tiny hand almost toppling the entire dessert tower, you excuse yourself mid-conversation to intercept.

“She’s got your appetite,” you say, placing Stella in her high chair and handing her a safer option—a teething biscuit.

“And your stubbornness,” Tony adds, crouching next to you to adjust her little headband. He kisses her forehead before looking up at you, his expression soft. “We did pretty good, didn’t we?”

You smile, leaning down to kiss him. “We did amazing.”

As the night winds down, you dance with Tony under the fairy lights, Stella dozing peacefully in Natasha’s arms nearby.

“Today was perfect,” you whisper, resting your head on his shoulder.

Tony pulls you closer, his hand warm on your back. “Because of you,” he murmurs. “You and Stella—you’re my whole world.”

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, your heart swelling with love. “And you’re ours.”

The music swells, and for a moment, it’s just the three of you in your own little world, the rest of the party fading into the background.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Four years later

Four years later, the Stark household is as lively as ever. Stella, now a spirited and endlessly curious four-year-old, is the undeniable star of the compound. She’s sharp like her dad, determined like her mom, and, to everyone’s ongoing astonishment, utterly enamored with Thor.

“Where is Uncle Thor?” Stella demands one morning, her tiny hands on her hips in a perfect mimicry of your stance when you're irritated. “He promised we’d go find worms for the garden!”

You chuckle as you rest a hand on your growing belly. “Honey, Uncle Thor’s busy with work. He can’t always come running every time you call.”

“Why not?” she counters, pouting. “He’s the Mighty Thor. He’s not too busy for me.”

You shake your head, smiling. “You’ve got your daddy’s charm, you know that?”

Tony walks in just in time to hear the exchange, a cup of coffee in one hand and a slightly sour expression on his face. “I don’t know what he’s done to brainwash her, but I don’t like it,” he grumbles, leaning down to kiss your cheek before ruffling Stella’s hair.

“Uncle Thor is the best!” Stella declares, throwing her arms up dramatically. “He’s teaching me how to lift Mjolnir!”

“Is he now?” Tony says, narrowing his eyes. “I thought I told him no godly powers until after kindergarten.”

Later that afternoon, Thor arrives as promised, and Stella runs to greet him, her excitement so infectious even Tony can’t entirely suppress a grin. Thor sweeps her up, spinning her around like she weighs nothing.

“Ah, my favorite little warrior!” Thor booms. “Are you ready to brave the wilderness?”

“Yes!” Stella squeals, clutching onto him tightly. “Let’s go, Uncle Thor!”

“Wilderness?” Tony interjects, crossing his arms. “You mean my backyard?”

Thor just grins. “Every great adventure starts somewhere, Stark.”

As they head outside, you and Tony watch from the window, his arm draped protectively around your shoulders.

“I can’t believe she picked him as her favorite,” Tony says with mock despair. “What does he have that I don’t?”

“A magic hammer?” you suggest, smirking.

Tony gasps in mock offense. “Unbelievable. After all I’ve done for her.”

“Don’t worry,” you tease, patting your belly. “Maybe this little guy will be Team Dad.”

Tony’s face softens immediately, his free hand coming to rest gently on your growing bump. “He better be,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss it. “Otherwise, I’ll have to build another suit—Baby Iron Man Edition.”

Stella eventually drags Thor back inside, both of them covered in dirt but grinning like co-conspirators. Thor greets your belly with a reverent nod, placing a hand on it like he’s bestowing a blessing. “He stirs with strength already,” he declares. “A future warrior.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “He’s not even born yet, Point Break. Let’s not start handing out titles.”

Stella crawls onto the couch next to you, her small hands carefully pressing against your belly. “Mommy, when will the baby come out?”

“In a few months, sweetie,” you say, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “He needs to grow a little more before he’s ready.”

“Will he be bigger than me?”

“Not at first,” Tony interjects, scooping her up onto his lap. “But don’t worry, Stella. You’ll always be the boss. It’s your job to teach him everything you know.”

Stella beams at that, puffing out her chest. “I’m going to be the best big sister ever.”

Tony chuckles, kissing her on the forehead. “I have no doubt.”

The rest of the day is filled with the usual chaos—Stella insisting she help with dinner (which mostly means spilling flour everywhere), Thor recounting dramatic tales of Asgardian battles to an enraptured audience, and Tony tinkering in his lab while occasionally glancing over to check on you.

Later that night, as you’re tucking Stella into bed, she clings to your arm, her wide eyes full of curiosity.

“Mommy?” she asks softly. “Do you think the baby will like Uncle Thor too?”

You laugh, stroking her hair. “Probably. But I think he’s going to like you the most.”

Her face lights up, and she snuggles deeper into her blankets. “Good. I’ll share Uncle Thor with him, but only a little.”

After kissing her goodnight, you return to the living room, where Tony is waiting on the couch, a glass of sparkling water in hand for you.

“Is she down?” he asks, pulling you gently into his side as you sink onto the cushions.

“Out like a light,” you reply, taking the glass. “She was asking if the baby will like Thor.”

Tony groans, tipping his head back dramatically. “That man is a menace.”

You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. “You know you love how happy he makes her.”

Tony’s arm tightens around you, his voice softening. “Yeah, I do. But you know what makes me happiest?”

“What?”

“This,” he says, resting his hand on your bump again. “All of us. Together.”

You smile, your heart full as you lean into him. “Me too.”

[jasontoddenthusiastt]

Cannot count the number of times I’ve seen the “the jOkeR waS the OnLy onE at fAuLT for jaSOn’s deAtH” take circling around.

Jason forgave Bruce and never gave him shit for it. That doesn’t change the fact that Bruce left his son alone with a stranger they just met in a foreign country, it was child endangerment lol.

[necrotic-nephilim]

do you ship helena bertinelli with anyone? if yes, then which characters and why? what's your favorite helena ship? do you have any helena rarepairs? (i know you've talked about helena/steph and you're so right about it, it's a very interesting ship)

!!!! i have so many ships for my best girl ever yes oh my god thank you for asking.

my top pairing is probably Vic Sage/the Question. Vic is the basic answer, but man. i love them so much. no couple has matched each other's freak like that have. Justice League Unlimited is a great adaptation of Helena in general, but it also did a great adaptation of Helena and Vic's relationship. how he just dedicates himself to helping her with no expected return, but also wants to make sure she doesn't go too far in a hunt for vengeance that never ends for her. i think a lot of characters often want to change Helena or expect things out of her for their own needs, like the Batfam and the BoP. but Vic is one of the few people who just wants her to be better for her own good. when he tries to stop her from killing it's not because of his morals, it's because he doesn't want this crusade to consume her. and i just. man i think about them a lot. Helena rlly likes weird little men who give themselves wholly to her.

Zinda Blake/Lady Blackhawk is also a top ship for me. tbh i just like Zinda. but i do love how Helena and Zinda interact, being the more rough and tumble members of the BoP. they're both outsiders, in different ways. Helena is an outsider of the Batfam and Zinda is literally from a different time and an outsider to the current world. their friendship is so genuine and i think if Babs and Dinah can have. whatever homoerotic nonsense going on during BoP, then Zinda and Helena deserve some homoerotic nonsense too. as a treat.

if we're willing to count New-52 Helena, then i enjoy Helena/Dick/Tiger. i think Helena and Dick being a past relationship is really important in pre-Flashpoint for Helena's development, though i don't ship them as a serious couple beyond a fling. but in the New-52, i think this throuple be fun. Helena and Tiger respect each other as two very driven, no-nonsense agents and then well. they both clearly have some kind of thing for Dick. so it's fun finding the balance of how they could all work together romantically.

and ofc. it's a crime to mention Helena ships and not mention Renee Montoya/the Question. every time they interact it's really fucking gay. it's so gay that Kate Kane, Renee's own ex, assumed Helena and Renee were gay. i cannot be convinced against this ship. i genuinely think this ship should be canon. i mean. DC did tease us with this moment from an alternate universe and it's lived rent for me since. fucking criminal for us to only get one panel of what we could have if DC let Helena be a fruit in the main universe. being in love with Helena Bertinelli should be a right of passage for the Question mantle, i personally believe. if you asked me like. genuinely who i want to see Helena date in the current comics, Renee is my top pick. (i would say Vic but he's fucking dead and the New-52 butchered him so rip my mans-)

lois lane (2019) #10

besides those ships, just about every ship for Helena probably falls into the category of rarepair. like you said i've talked about my love for Helena/Steph before bc god. i think it should be a thing more people ship. once i finish the fic i'm writing about them i will convince others to like it.

i also think Helena/Cass could be fun. in a *lot* of ways Helena and Cass are narrative parallels to each other. Helena was a victim of her family being murdered at about the same age Cass was forced to be a murderer. Helena grows up to believe in lethal justice because of this, and Cass grows up to be staunchly against it. Cass' Batgirl suit was made *by* Helena. they both want to be protectors of the most vulnerable people. they balance each other out in a lot of ways and i think they should kiss about it.

also probably a rarepair, i think Helena/Lady Shiva is fun. their fight during Birds of Prey (2010) had... questionable moments for Helena's characterization, but i do love so much that Helena knocks Shiva off her feet and gains a deep respect from Shiva. like. Shiva gives her a nickname and shows her admiration. i would like to see fanfic where Shiva continues to be weirdly admirable of Helena and bothering her non-stop. they could be a fun fucked up toxic yuri moment. this is just. so gay to me.

birds of prey (2010) #6

my most rare Helena pair would probably be Helena Wayne, actually. but specifically Helena Wayne of JSA (2022). ever since, for some reason, it was made canon that the current Helena Wayne was named after Helena Bertinelli and took the name Huntress to honor her i *cannot* stop thinking about them meeting. because in-universe it makes *no* fucking sense for Bruce to name his kid after *Helena Bertinelli*, someone he's regularly at odds with and doesn't like. it's clearly an awkward explanation to try to make the whole two Huntress situation make sense. (it's almost as bad as Helena Wayne in the New-52 using Helena Bertinelli as an alias.) but because it's such an odd choice, i do think it could be fun for Helena Wayne, when she's back in time to see Bruce, to find Helena Bertinelli to get to know the woman she was named after and Helena Bertinelli just being. baffled by the idea of *Batman* naming his kid after her. it could be a fun fucked up moment.

my other super rarepair is Kara Zor-L/Power Girl. they had like. one meaningful interaction of JSA Classified and it's been PLAGUING me. something about when Power Girl doesn't remember her past and she's seeking a friend, she instinctively goes to find Huntress? but it's wrong bc this isn't *her* Huntress and neither of them understand why Power Girl would seek Helena out? god it's so good. i'm always a big fan of ships where one person in the ship is *so* obviously using the other person as a replacement for someone they lost and they both know it. it's such a doomed angsty thing where you could play with Helena actually really liking Kara, but knowing that she's just a replacement for Kara's Helena Wayne. good fucked up shit man.

and lastly: i really ship her with Dawn Granger/Dove. there's no canon basis for this, they didn't have a ton of interactions even when they were both on the BoP. but there's a very kind innocence to Dawn that contrasts Helena's violence really well. and i do love a ship with a corruption kink vibe to it. let Helena corrupt Dawn. i could write such fucked up porn about these two.

[casscainmainly]

Why Duke Thomas Should Be A Dick Grayson Hater

Dick and Duke is such an underrated and underexplored relationship. Here is my pitch for why Duke should be a Dick Grayson hater.

1. The Rooftop Thing

Reason number one and the start of Duke's grudge should be the rooftop incident in Robin War. Dick, as part of his plan or whatever, leads Duke to a roof and abandons him to the cops.

LOOK AT DICK'S SMUG FACE. Tell me you wouldn't hold a grudge too if this was the FIRST major interaction you had with him?? Duke should use this against him at any possible opportunity.

2. ACAB

From We Are Robin #2. Once Duke finds out Dick used to be a cop, it's OVER for him.

3. Jason and Damian

Duke is quite close with Jason and Damian (in my head, particularly Damian - that's his LITTLE BROTHER). Anyway, these two are obsessed with Dick. You have Jason, with his miles-long brother issues that puts Dick on a pedestal, and you have Damian, who thinks Dick is the best person on Earth who can do no wrong. They would talk Duke's ears off about him. Duke would HATE IT.

4. Robin

This panel from Night of the Monster Men sums up quite nicely the difference in the way Dick and Duke approach vigilantism. Duke is the 'idealised' Robin, whose Robin-ing isn't contingent on Batman; Dick is more or less too tied up in Bruce. I think, because the Robin identity means a lot to Duke, having the original Robin be like this would irk Duke a LOT.

5. Tom Taylor

SPOILERS FOR CURRENT NIGHTWING RUN: in Nightwing #116, Dick gets framed for murder and Babs tells him to reveal he's Nightwing to clear him of suspicion. She says Bruce suggested it, and recounts everyone who agreed:

Hm. Is someone missing here? Oh yeah: DUKE. TT probably just forgot Duke, but where's the fun in that? Instead, if Duke is a Dick Grayson hater, you have the funniest scene imaginable. Everyone gathered in the Batcave, laying down their identities for Dick, and Duke is like 'I don't give a damn. He can rot in jail.' and peaces out.

BONUS points if he does this to get back at Dick for reason number 1.

6. Parallels

Duke's origin deliberately mirrors Bruce's, but that means it mirrors Dick's as well. Duke and Dick parallels go insane: they both had loving families, lost both parents at once, were in the foster system (varyingly for Dick but for the purposes of this post I'm gonna include it), were wards/not adopted by Bruce initially, have a huge reverence for family, have a thing about heights, view Robin as separate from Batman, forged their own identities, etc.

Tell me this page doesn't slap:

Anyway Duke would HATE this too. He'd be so annoyed that the person he has the most in common with is Dick, and that would fuel his Dick Grayson haterism.

Dick, on the other hand, has no hard feelings towards Duke. Duke would be glowering at him from the corner of the room and Dick would meet his gaze and be like 'ah Duke is so cute' and smile back. This would make Duke 10000x angrier.

Anyway that's my ideal Dick and Duke dynamic, feel free to add or modify or disagree with anything!!

[brucewaynehater101]

I need you to stop me from making another Tim Drake centric fic

I got this random idea that won’t leave me alone

like what if the emotional scars and trauma people have show up physically too most commonly as little cracks on the skin and all of the bats have them

they hide them tho with make up and stuff so people don’t question it except Tim hides them from everyone maybe bc that’s what his parents taught him to do maybe bc he just doesn’t want to burden any of the bats

the bats think that Tim is fine so to them he’s invincible which leads them to treat him as such subconsciously or otherwise especially Bruce

it takes a lot for something to be bad enough that they physically manifest and Tim has A LOT bc everyone thinks he’s invincible

:) it won’t leave me alone help me I beg of you

Hmm.... Let's add on, shall we? This is a very rad idea. You should definitely write a fic about it, but no pressure.

Mind if I explore it? Also, feel free to disregard any part below you don't want/disagree with. This is just brainstorming ^^

Alright. Emotional scars are a physical mark on someone's skin.

Similar to regular scars, they can fade as a person heals.

Some may never disappear, and some only appear for a short time.

What would their color be?

Would they look like actual cracks in a person (so black-ish in color)? Would they be gold or multi-colored (different colors represent different kinds of emotional traumas)?

The level of hurt inflicted is directly proportional to the size (length and width) of the scar.

Perhaps more could be deduced from the general shape (is it jagged? A single line? Branching?)

Not all people have these marks

Most of the population manifests them. There's some prejudice against folk who don't [something something they are heartless, incapable of feelings, not able to be emotionally hurt, cold, detached, etc.], but hiding scars is also common. Therefore, it's harder to discern whether someone is hiding their marks or markless. It's a very fine line, so most people allow a smaller mark to show every once in a while. There's even a few trends to proudly display all marks.

Marks appear at the time of the emotional harm

It may not be apparent at the time due to the location, but the individual being hurt will manifest the mark at the very moment of emotional harm.

Anyways, that's the background stuff. Fun, but let's get into Tim specifically ^^

Tim's parents are part of the few who believe that showing off your scars to anyone, even your loved ones, is both a weakness and a way to guilt-trip people. Therefore, through their archeology studies, they managed to obtain magical objects to prevent the showing of emotional marks. It's similar to glamor.

Tim's object can change forms to suit his needs (so a ring at one moment and an earring the next). This ability prevents the Bats from discovering it.

Janet fakes a very small mark on her hand when she wants to discourage any rumors that's she's incapable of manifesting marks. For Tim, though, his parents wanted him to have rumors of being incapable of forming marks. It served their purpose better for him being the cunning Drake heir.

The deception started from birth, so no one but the Drakes know of Tim's ability to form marks [and the Drake parents never see the marks they leave behind on their child].

The Waynes, long before Tim entered their life, were aware of these rumors. Thus, when Tim demands to become Robin, he doesn't correct their assumptions.

Bruce is a callous fucker to Tim at the start. If Tim can't be hurt emotionally, then Bruce's ill-treatment of him is fine (which is flawed logic. The markless can be emotionally hurt, and they still deserve kindness, dignity, and respect even if they couldn't. Bruce was mentally fucked up, but it doesn't excuse his treatment).

Eventually, Bruce comes to the second realization that Tim should still be treated well even if it doesn't hurt him regardless. The man's behavior is better, but he still has the notion in mind that Tim can't be emotionally hurt. He uses this for missions and to downplay the way his other kids treat Tim (specifically Jason and Damian when they first meet Tim).

Tim gets used to a rotation of insult-names: Robot Robin, heartless, markless (said insultingly), cold-blooded, unfeeling bastard, etc.

He's also subject to a TON of misunderstandings. People are more reluctant to love him due to the belief that he can't love them back. He gets yelled at and told off for "masking/faking his emotions" when he's actually being genuine.

Which adds to his hurt :)

He also has to pretend not to grieve his parents when they die :(

Due to how rare markless are, the Bats don't meet "another" one until after the BruceQuest. When they chat with this person, they realize how many misconceptions they have about them (such as the markless being incapable of feelings. In fact, they accidentally offend that person when they tell the other they don't need to fake their emotions in front of the Bats. Safe to say, the markless individual becomes incensed when they realize how they've been treating their own markless family member).

This would be at least four (probably closer to five) years after Tim first became Robin. The entire family has a meltdown.

Tim, on the other hand, is used to the treatment the Bats have been giving him and becomes incredibly uncomfortable with them trying to care for his feelings and whatnot. It's rocky for a long while as everyone tries to seek forgiveness for something Tim bitterly doesn't hold against them (he is lying to them after all).

Tim rarely, if ever, views his own marks. The last time he checked was when he was having his identity crisis after Robin was taken from him. His entire body, from head to toe, had cracks in it. There was a giant, gaping crack on his back for the metaphorical stab in the back it was.

And we haven't even gotten to when the Bats figure out Tim was never markless :)

[chiaraswritings]

Unexpected.

Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their characters, or their settings. This is certainly not canon.

Warnings & Topics: Suggestive themes, emotional distress, physical exhaustion, pregnancy. 18+.

Word Count: 3.9K words

Summary: Batmom! reader finds out she is pregnant a short time after marrying Bruce Wayne, not in the most pleasant of ways. Telling him won't be easy, but Alfred gives her some encouragement.

Author's note: After four hours of work, I deem my first fanfiction suitable for posting. Thank you for all the support. I hope you enjoy.

It'd been two months since that beautiful, blissful, romantic day. Actually, two months, two weeks, and one day. But who was counting, right?

The newspapers were. Headlines of gossip news, huge block letters in bold, depicted that I had been spotted at the gym alone again, also describing their support for my "weight loss journey" since I had been "losing my figure". I had been reading this article over and over for about an hour. Damn. I inspected the black and white photo of myself in leggings and a tank top. The worst part about, well, everything, is that they were right. I was losing my figure, noticeably. 

I didn't even notice Alfred behind me until he spoke. "No matter how many times you read them, the words are not going to change, ma'am."

I jumped slightly. I hadn't been sleeping or eating well at all, my back and chest ached too much to relax, and heartburn hit me like a batarang after meals. I think I had gotten thirty hours of sleep in the last week, and maybe one meal a day. "Thank you, Alfred. Do you know when dinner will be ready?" 

"In a half hour, ma'am." The butler moved to the other end of the kitchen table to face me. "Those words in the paper are words that all who love you disagree with."

Alfred's words touched me if only a little, and I set down the paper. "Thank you, I think I'm going to take a walk." 

He looked concerned, but just for a moment. "Alright, ma'am. Try not to be late, the chicken may be devoured." 

Chuckling, I stepped out into the early evening light. I would not be late for dinner, living with five hungry men teaches you a lot. The sunlight embraced me, bathing me in its gentle rays, glimmering over my face. I felt positively glorious. Closing my eyes, I soaked it in. My husband would soon be home to kiss me and keep an arm around my waist. The simple thought of his touch made my mouth stretch into a smile. Five more minutes, and I'll go in. 

Five minutes turned into twenty. Being amongst the blooming flowers and the busy insects kept me occupied. Not only that, but a sudden headache had overtaken me. I sat in the grass, unladylike, watching the bees collect their last supply of nectar from the flowers for the day. Grass stains never bothered me anyway. I knew time was getting away from me, but I couldn't seem to bring myself to focus on anything. I didn't want to go inside because I didn't want bedtime to arrive. It was too painful to even think about. My head and back reminded me of that even now. 

My vision blurred slightly, I could only focus on a single flower on the bushes before me, bees continuing to fly around it. This was nice. I couldn't focus on a single thing, or think about anything, or worry.

I felt myself fall, sort of, to the ground. Fall was the best word I know to describe it. I was already sitting on the ground, but my muscles suddenly felt like pudding. My head bumped to the grass and laid to rest. Terror gripped my heart and throat for a single second before everything just... relaxed. My vision went next, but I was okay with that. This was so relaxing. I wanted to stay.

...

"Madam. Madam (Y/N)!" The voice came from... maybe a mile away. Maybe. Maybe ten miles. Maybe a hundred.

"(Y/N), madam (Y/N)!" Something cold was on my face. Ugh. I don't like that. The wind bit and stung at where the cold wetness was on my cheek. Ouch.

"Wake up, madam!" No. I don't want to. Go away. But the voice sounds scared.  

I slowly, slowly, with great effort, opened my eyes. Instantly they closed again. My friend the butler was hovering over me. What was his name again?

"Mom!" New voice. Go the hell away. I open my eyes again. 

"I'm here, I'm fine." Sitting up took much more strength than opening my eyes, but I managed to do so. Dick and Alfred worriedly stare at me. "I was just taking a nap."

"That wasn't a nap, it looked like you passed out." Dick was the one with the cold wet cloth. He put it to my head again. I gave him a withering glare, and he pulled it away again, looking apologetic. 

"It was a nap, of course I didn't pass out. Now let me return to it," I waved my hand in no particular direction, trying to shoo them away like mice.

"I am afraid I cannot allow you to sleep on the cold ground in nothing but your loungewear, ma'am." Alfred took the cloth from Dick and put it to my forehead. 

Lord, they were being so annoying, I just wanted to go back to sleep. My eyelids drooped and my words slurred. "Bed hurts too much right now... just come back later..." my head finally dropped forward as vision began to diminish again. 

I couldn't really tell what they said next. What I could remember was, "Inside now... call the... when they can see her..." and "...got her... go and tell him... I've got it..." 

The sensation of being lifted did not startle my dozing. Neither did the shouting, nor the feeling of hands on my face. I had earned this sleep, and I was going to... enjoy... it...

...

I was awake, but I didn't want to open my eyes. It wasn't time. Please don't let it be time. I peeked a glance at my watch. Eight in the morning on a Sunday? Yeah, back to sleep we go. 

Before I could return to my dreamless sleep, I became aware of unidentified breathing beside me. Was that Titus? Or maybe Alfred. Maybe I had been kidnapped. Did I care? Hell to the no. All I cared about at this present moment was slumber. If I was kidnapped, I could sleep all I wanted while I waited for them to rescue me.

Then, like a train, uninvited and on its own, the back pain hit my lower body. I couldn't help the moan of discomfort that tore from my throat.

Instantly, a hand went to my forehead. It felt so cold against my warm head. I'd better see who this person with the cold hands is and tell them to go stick their fingers in a campfire before touching me again.

 When I opened my eyes, I realized I wasn't even in the garden anymore. Alfred, I told you I wanted to stay on the ground. But it wasn't Alfred who had put freezing digits on my forehead. It was my husband, my dearest Bruce, my wonderful partner in... crime didn't seem like a good choice of words. His worried blue eyes bored into my sleep-deprived (Y/C) eyes. Ouch, that gaze made my headache come back.

"Hello. Go warm your hands up," I told the love of my life before closing my eyes again. The light from the window seemed to be penetrating my very brain. 

"My hands are warm," replied the bearer of freezing fingers.

"Please, feels like your hands went to the Artic circle for winter vacation." My stubborn retort took a lot out of me, but I could practically hear his small smile. 

"There's my girl," he murmured. I opened my eyes again to smile at my wonderful... freezing... man. 

"Yeahhh, your girl's going back to dreamland. Night night." I grunted at the pain stabbing me in the back, the throbbing in my head, and the emptiness in my stomach.

"Not yet, sweetheart. Stay right here. The doctor's going to be here at ten, you should freshen up a bit." 

I opened one eye to glare unhappily at him. "Don't need a doctor. Need a nap."

His chuckle annoyed me to the very core, almost scaring away the shooting pains in my back. "I'm sorry, but this needs to happen. Do you know how worried we all were when we heard you had fainted in the garden? The boys hardly wanted to go on patrol, they wanted to look after you."

"The boys didn't want to go on patrol? You didn't want to look after me?" I glared playfully at my handsome knight. "And I didn't faint... just took a nap."

"On the cold hard ground?" His questioning gaze made me open both my eyes.

"Yes, it felt nice on my back." 

"Does your back still hurt, sweetheart?"

"Yes, it still hurts." 

"And you didn't feel like sleeping in the bed?"

"The hell is this, an interrogation?" 

"Maybe," he grinned.

"Go away," I retorted, closing my eyes. "I have to go to work, no time for doctors."

"I called and told them you can't come in this week."

"This... this is why I married you."

It didn't take long to fall back into blissful, painless paradise. Bruce left me alone, but I knew he was close by, watching over me. The mansion was so quiet and peaceful, I knew the boys were fast asleep.

Much too soon, I was being kissed awake. 

"Darling, Doctor Thompkin's here. It's time to wake up." Bruce's forehead kisses were, for the very first time in our relationship, annoying. 

"Ugh." I rolled over to escape, my back cracking. 

"Upsy daisy." He stroked my back, gently massaging my painfully aching muscles.

Sitting up took all the strength I had, and yet I had to find more to answer the questionnaire the doctor was springing upon me. Bruce stepped out mid-examination to answer a phone call, leaving the woman to observe my body and take into consideration my answers to her questions. Her questions seemed endless. "Have you been out of the country in the last month?" 

"No."

"Have you been feeling depressed or hopeless?"

"No."

"Are you on any medications?"

"No."

"Do you or any family members have history of scoliosis?" 

"No."

"History of heartburn?"

"No."

"When was your last menstrual cycle?"

"It's marked on the calendar, couple pages back." 

"Do you know what year it is?"

I gave her a funny look. "Of course I do, what's wrong with you?" Now I feel bad for saying that, but I certainly didn't in the moment.

The doctor chuckled, her friendly eyes had laughter lines around them. "Just wanted to make sure you're still with me. Are you on birth control?"

"Yes."

"How long have you been on birth control?" 

"Couple months. I went on it during our honeymoon."

"During?"

"Yes, we realized condoms and plan B weren't as convenient as the pill."

"I'm going to need a blood sample and then we're done here. I'll be in touch with the results. You don't seem to be suffering from scoliosis, but I'll contact you about x-rays to confirm. I haven't made a house call in a long time, or practiced family medicine, but I'll do everything I can to make sure we get to the root of this."

"Okay." 

The blood draw seemed to take longer than I remembered blood draws taking. The prick of the needle didn't disturb the haze of sleepiness that still surrounded me. The woman's departure signaled another wave of sleepiness to wash over me. Bruce and Alfred were showing the doctor out as my head hit the pillow. Pain shot up my back, but sleep had already captured me. 

Tomorrow turned into today, and then today became yesterday. It felt like I slept the whole Monday, skipping work and family dinner. Tuesday morning came with sunshine and kisses from my darling husband as I slowly opened my eyes. 

"Hi," I smiled at him. One of Bruce's arms was holding me almost loosely as he lay next to me in the white sheets. He looked worn and tired from a long night of patrol. I sniffed him. Good, he had showered. 

"Hello." His tired kiss on my lips was slowly waking me. "I love you."

"I love you too," I told him. My smile was getting bigger and my world was waking up. I traced the shape of his exhausted eyes. "Close your eyes. Sleep." 

"Mmph." His eyes closed and his body relaxed under my touch. Normally, Bruce was the one to hold me tight and kiss me to sleep, to caress my body and keep me safe. Looking over his body, I realized that he had been through a difficult night of patrol. A stitched gash across his back, an unhappy bruise on his jaw, scratches on his forearms. Worrying about my "condition" probably hadn't helped him stay alert out there in the dangerous night of Gotham. Guilt washed over me. My arms protectively wrapped around my dearest husband, my lips pressing to his forehead. Today, I was going to keep him safe, I was going to comfort him through his slumber.

...

Bruce's snoring wasn't exactly a lullaby, so I was up and about after a few hours. The boys were crashed in their rooms and Alfred was busy baking something that smelled like chocolatey deliciousness. I was looking over the morning paper, again, skimming for any mention of my family or I. Unhealthy habit, you could say. I was curled up in an armchair next to the bed, keeping the rustling of the newspaper pages to a minimum.

Vibrations of Bruce's cell phone made me look up. As silently as I could, I leaped up and grabbed the phone from the bedside table on Bruce's side. My husband's sleep was important to me, and if I had it my way, nothing at all would disturb it, not even nightmares. 

I carried the cell phone out of the bedroom and glanced at the caller ID. Doctor Thompkins. Results. Yes. This wasn't the first time I had answered my husband's phone, so I wasn't going to feel guilt over finding out my own test results. "Hello?"

"(Y/N), hello. I'm calling with your results."

"Tim's been telling everyone in the family it's yellow fever, please prove him wrong."

"Hah, no, it is not yellow fever... I'd say it's something a little more... serious."

I stiffened. My aching back didn't like that. "What's up?"

"We spoke about your history with birth control, but we need to talk about it again. It would seem that there was some window of time where you and Bruce were not using protection."

My backache must've hit my brain, because looking back, I can't believe I didn't catch on. "Bruce gave me a disease?"

"Not a disease. You're pregnant, (Y/N). I can't make an estimate on how many weeks you are, but I'm going to give you the contact information for an OBGYN. Make an appointment as soon as you can. Congratulations, Mrs. Wayne."

...

When Bruce woke up, I had to apologize to him for his cracked cell phone screen. I told him the truth, that I'd dropped it, but I didn't explain that it was from shock. He told me it was alright, that he'd pick up a new one, but he wasn't quite sure why I looked so very upset over dropping his phone. That would explain itself in time.

I didn't eat a thing at dinner that night, despite my full plate and coaxing from my family. Even the finest cut of steak is unappealing when something like that is on one's mind.

Who wouldn't overthink a thing like this? Pregnant, after a literal two months of marriage? Pregnant, while caring for four boys that you saw as your sons? Pregnant, after your husband had told you he didn't want anymore children? Pregnant, after you had both tried to be careful? Pregnant, to one of the greatest vigilantes and most successful businessmen in the world? Pregnant. I am pregnant. I might have my husband's baby.

"Mom!"

My head jerked up and I was greeted by five concerned faces. 

"Ma, you look like you're in another world," Jason forked a piece of potato. 

"Maybe I am in another world, Jay-Jay." I smiled slightly before standing. Ten eyes observed my every move. 

"Ummi, where are you going?" Damian, the one who I expected would be the least concerned, watched me with huge, worried eyes. 

"I think I need to sleep more. I will see you all tomorrow morning." I kissed every head at the table, my lips lingering on my husband's forehead. He rested his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me down for a gentle kiss. I think he noticed my hesitance, but I didn't stop to think about it or explain. My back only permitted me to walk up the stairs, but if I could've run, I would've.

Once Bruce and the boys had left for their night of patrol, I breathed again. Laying on the bed, clutching my pillow to my chest, trying to rehearse how I would address the situation to Bruce, it took a lot out of me. "Bruce, I need to tell you something," I mumbled. "No... Bruce, we need to talk." 

"Madam, I am not sure if you have noticed, but Master Bruce is not here." Alfred's voice startled me for the second time this week.

"I wish he was. I'm sorry, I'm... practicing." I tried to give my friend a reassuring smile but it came out as a grimace. 

"Good luck, madam," Alfred set down a cup of tea on my bedside table and gave me a genuine Alfred smile. Before he was out of the room, he turned back and looked me dead in the eye. "Master Bruce loves you very much, Madam (Y/N). He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink." 

I looked straight back into this wonderful gentleman's eyes. "Thank you."

...

I tried to sleep through the night, I really did. When dawn and my boys arrived, I was still wide awake, not having slept a wink. I trotted down the stairs to the batcave, taking extra care not to trip. Once on the floor, we went through our post-patrol routine of inspecting each one of my boys. First Damian, who shrugged me off several times before allowing me to look over him, then Tim, who accepted my worrying for what it was, then Jason, who pretended to be annoyed for show, then Dick, who looked over me as carefully as I looked over him, then finally Bruce, who would not stop kissing me, barely giving me a chance to check him for injuries. 

No one was truly hurt, but all but one were tired as they pulled off their suits. The boys trudged upstairs to their rooms, but my husband carried me valiantly up the stairs to our place in the master bedroom, like a knight carrying his princess.

Once the bedroom door was shut and he had set me down, I was instantly on my back laying on the bed, Bruce's lips showing affection to my neck and collarbone. A soft, throaty moan left my mouth as my husband kissed me, his hands working their way over my body. I was clothed in my favorite outfit of a tank top and leggings, and I knew they were at risk of being torn from my torso and limbs if I allowed this to continue. Besides... I had to tell Bruce. 

"Darling..." the word I said was half-moaned. "Darling, please, you need to shower."

"I thought you liked my scent?" Bruce chuckled, looking up at me, his hands working their way up my shirt. 

"Mmm, I do, but you are going to dirty our sheets that Alfred worked so hard to wash." 

"You have a valid point, but I don't like it." Bruce grinned and pulled off the little clothing he wore. I chuckled and rolled my eyes, watching him make his way to the shower. If I hadn't had such a burden on my mind, I would've joined him. I could hear him muttering insults at the slippery bar of soap that his large fingers always seemed to have trouble grasping, and it made me smile. My hand absentmindedly rested on my stomach and I wondered if his child would have the same troubles as their father.

Bruce's shower was shorter than usual. Much shorter than if I had been in there with him. Chuckling, I made room for my knight in the bed. He hadn't bothered to put on clothes, or dry his hair. Bruce climbed on top of me, drops of water falling from his hair to my chest. His lips reattached to mine, devouring the kiss like a wild man. I knew what he had on his mind from the way he caressed my body, and I had to put a stop to it. 

"Bruce... Bruce, wait." 

Concerned eyes met mine. "(Y/N)?"

Alfred's words replayed in my mind. He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. I stared into the beautiful blue eyes I had grown to take comfort in. "Bruce, Doctor Thompkins diagnosed me."

Instantly, his desire was forgotten. Bruce sat back on the bed and pulled me onto his lap. "Tell me, darling, what is it?"

His arms made me feel so safe. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink. "I... you need to expect the unexpected."

"So I'm guessing it's not yellow fever, since that's what Tim expects," Bruce smiled. The gentle attempt at humor didn't lift the worry in his eyes. 

"Heh, no... not exactly. It's... it's a baby." The last three words were much quieter than the others. 

Bruce looked at me quizzically. "I don't think I heard you correctly." 

"A baby," I honestly voiced my diagnosis, somewhat fearfully looking into his eyes. "I'm pregnant."

Bruce's glare pierced mine. He gently slid me off his lap and set me on the bed before standing and walking to the window to silently stare out of it. His breathing had changed, his body was stiff, everything about him seemed cold and hardened. 

My worst fears bit and tore at my heart, anxiety gripping my throat like a murderer. Oh Lord, he doesn't want me anymore. I didn't know whether to go to him, or leave the mansion, or stay in the bed, or cry, or speak. So I just waited, for a full two minutes, staring at my husband's scarred back. After waiting that long, tears began to prick at my eyes. I finally laid down and curled into the cold sheets. "I'm sorry."

I heard him turn. "What are you sorry for?"

"Not paying attention to my birth control. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," my tears left wet spots on the pillowcase. I closed my eyes tightly. 

Then I felt his weight on his side of the bed, he was laying beside me. Bruce collected me into his arms, tilting my chin up, asking me silently to look at him. I opened my wet eyes. 

"I'm not angry with you. I'm thinking about it. Just let me think." Bruce's rough, calloused fingers brushed against my peach soft cheek.

"Okay." I closed my eyes to fight back angry, hot tears. He pulled me to his chest, holding me to himself. I could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. 

He must've held me like that for an hour before he finally, finally spoke. "Well, this isn't what I thought two months into our marriage would look like." 

My tears had left stains on his chest. Only a surge of bravery made me look up at him. "Yeah."

He looked down at me, smiled, kissed my lips, and I felt my husband's love course through my body. He may have turned me away physically, but he had never turned me away emotionally. I sat up on his lap, straddling him, my forehead resting on his, my hands on his cheeks. "I love you."

"And I love you," Bruce's fingers brushed against my waist. He seemed hesitant, and his eyes met mine. "May I?"

I was confused for a moment, but then I realized and nodded, beaming. "Yes."

His large hand rested on my stomach. The wheels in his head were still turning, but they had calmed, and they were only turning in the name of love. 

"Expect the unexpected." 

[theblue6ook]

A Sick Day

It’s not a cold. It’s not. It’s just… allergies or something. Y/N definitely does not need to stay home. Bruce disagrees.

B (24) & Y/N (22)

A/N: recently got a puppy and he has taken all of my free time <3 Also, this fic is unedited and proud.

“Get your coats and turn on your radiators, Gotham. An ice front is coming in and it’s coming in hot. Or should I say cold? No, this isn’t the work of Mr.Freeze, he’s still in Arkham and we hope he stays there. This is the work of a winter storm. While the snow will be beautiful, it will also be dangerous.”

Y/N scoffed at her computer. The newscasters always made such a big deal about winter storms. Nothing can be worse than what they had to deal with when Mr.Freeze escaped a year ago. She was stuck in her apartment for three days with no groceries, splitting a box of stale Triscuits with Carrie three meals a day. If anything, cold weather is more an inconvenience than a danger. Plus, it’s been teetering on 45 degrees out the past week. How much colder would it get?

-

So… It got fucking cold.

Gotham had hit record-low temperatures. So low it hadn’t been a natural occurrence since the 60s. Lucky for Carrie, she had chemo this week and the hospital had gotten spooked by the recent weather reports so they asked her to stay overnight. While the hospital bill wouldn’t be nice, it’s way better than what Y/N is dealing with. 

Her radiator is shitting out on her. The whole building's radiator system actually. Normally when the weather is this bad she would opt to work at home, like everyone else, except she can’t take the cold. Her body in particular can’t take the cold. It could be from the shitty surroundings in her apartment building or from sniffly Nathan who works in Wayne Enterprise’s marketing department, but she thinks she’s coming down with something. What’s worse is that the cold weather is making it worse.

Her whole chest felt like it was burning, which is a real contrast to how cold she was walking to work. She couldn’t get her car past the snow and she needs warmth and warmth is at Wayne Enterprises. So, she trudges into the empty building, up the elevator, and sits at her desk with a groan.

Breathing heavily, she shrugged her coat off her shoulders and pressed her freezing fingertips underneath her armpits. She looked at her reflection in her desktop monitor. Her cheeks were bright red and she had dark circles under her eyes. At least no one else was here to see her. No one else was here to see her…

Would it hurt to take a nap? No one would know. No one would see. 

Y/N stood and stepped out into the hallway. Not. A. Single. Soul. Oh, she is so napping.

-

Bruce had chained up his tires this morning and headed to Wayne Enterprise. It was too bright for The Tumbler and he needed to gather a few equipment items from Lucious Fox’s bunker. It’s not like anyone was here anyway. There was not a single car in the garage, not even Y/N’s, which is really saying something. 

He perused the bunker, grabbing a few small but powerful heaters, fleece-lined leather for his suit, and a couple of other items, stuffing them into his duffle bag. He was used to the cold, training in it, even living in it on one occasion, and the people of Gotham needed him so he’d be there. 

Pulling the duffle bag over his shoulder with ease, he headed out of the bunker and towards the elevator. He left a particular file that wasn’t meant for Wayne Enterprise in his office, while no one was here, you can never be too careful. Except… There was someone here. 

He could only assume the head poking out from her coat was Y/N and she was sleeping? In the office? Stepping closer to her, he noticed, even under all her layers, she was trembling. Pulling her coat collar from her face, he finally got a good look at her. She was flushed and had broken out into a sweat, even her ears were bright red. He held onto her shoulder and shook her lightly.

“Y/N,” Bruce spoke softly. She ground turning away from him. He slapped a hand to her forehead trying to gauge her temperature. She definitely had a fever, it couldn’t be lower than a 100. Slowly her eyes opened at the disruption, then became wide at who was standing over her. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I’m not the one sleeping in the office.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled embarrassed, “I don’t know how that happened-”

“Y/N you’re burning up. What are you even doing here?”

“Why does someone come to work, Bruce?”

“You’re not working. You’re sleeping.”

“I had the intent to work-”

“Y/N.”

“I just felt like coming in,” she snapped. In truth, she was embarrassed. Here was her billionaire boss. If he didn’t feel like sleeping in his mansion, he could stay the night at his penthouse. She was sure he had other properties as well, meanwhile her radiator couldn’t even stay on when it gets chilly outside.

Bruce held her stare with a firm gaze and narrowed his eyes.

“You’re going home.” It wasn’t a question and he definitely didn’t ask as he lifted her under her armpits from the couch and stood her up on the floor. He took her coat roughly from the couch and threw it over her shoulders. Bruce turned to pack the rest of her things up. Y/N was so tired, but she was also so frustrated. She had just gotten here. It had taken her so long to walk here. “Let’s go. Where’d you park?”

She remained silent and looked away from him. 

“Y/N. Where did you park?”

“I’m not going home. I just got here.”

“You’re sick you’re going home,” before she could speak he added, “and don’t say your car is in the garage because I know it’s not in there.”

“...I parked on the street.”

He tilted his head examining her, “No you didn’t. The snow us up to the stairs. Where’s your car?”

His question came out as more of a statement, demanding of an answer. She wouldn’t look at him and he grew both frustrated and disappointed. “For the love of god, please tell me you did not walk here.”

“My car couldn’t get past the snow!” she loudly admitted, “Is that what you wanted to hear-”

“Y/N. When your car can’t get past the snow, it means you stay home!” 

He held his hand to his brow, trying to sooth the tension in his head. Throwing his duffle bag and her work bag easily over his shoulder, he didn’t give her much of a chance to say anything as he grabbed her by the hand to pull her toward the elevator. Even in his frustrated state, shaking his head and rolling his eyes, his grip on her was still gentle.

Stubborn as ever, she would let him pull her to the car. She would let him buckle her in. She would let him drive her to her broken, cold home, but she wouldn’t say a damn thing about the radiator. None. Of. His. Business.

[She’s even more stubborn when she’s sick.]

And she did just that. She let Bruce Wayne take her hand, blaming the warmth in her face on her high fever. She let him tug her to his expensive McLaren 650s Spider with a new shiny set of winter tires. She enjoyed seeing it too and part of her enjoyed annoying him. And she let him plop her into his expensive shiny car, buckle her in, and drive her home. What she didn’t expect was him wanting to walk her inside…

“I can get inside just fine, thank you.” Y/N attempted to push him back towards his car. Her hand held to his chest and pushed firmly. He didn’t even budge. Not even a sway.

“You’re not walking up three flights of stairs alone in your condition.”

“My condition?” she paused. “How do you know I live on the third floor?”

“You put your address on your resume,” he lied smoothly.

“I didn’t know you read my resume-”

“Stop stalling.”

She tried to keep him out, she really did, but he was so persistent. They made it to the front door, thank you Mr.Wayne I can take it from here. Nope, he needed to help her up the stairs, so they made it up the stairs. Thank you, Mr.Wayne I think I can make it inside by myself. Nope, he had already made it up the stairs; he might as well finish the journey. They made it to her front door. Thank you, Mr.Wayne you can go now. Nope, there’s no reason he can’t sit her things down for her.

In her heart, she knew there was no way he didn’t notice the cool, crisp air in the hallway. The way not a single apartment radiated heat and she knew he had to be suspicious. Her hand shook in shame as she unlocked her apartment and opened the door up, head down. 

Letting himself in, she heard a deep sigh, radiating from his chest, “Y/N, you can’t stay here-”

“Stop-”

“It’s freezing in here-”

“You don’t think I know that?” Once again, he grabbed her hand pulling her into the hallway, shaking her head. He took the keys straight out of her hand, locking the apartment door. “What are you doing? We just got here?”

“You’re staying with me this weekend.” 

“Are you insane?”

“I have a house with over fifteen bedrooms. I think you can find somewhere to sleep.”

“This is so unprofessional.”

“I don’t care.” With her apartment keys he walked back toward the stairs at an alarming pace. She had no choice but to follow.

“Bruce, I swear to God I am not staying at the manor.”

-

“Welcome to Wayne Manor Miss.Y/N.”

@pank0w @moejoeflow @padsfirewhisky @maxinehufflepuffprincess @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @mariadvorak @100520s @st0rmyt @stxrsberkshire

[glitter-stained]

Ok sooo don’t know if you’ve ever already been asked this but-

I’m like a sucker for cute baby robin Jason interactions with the Teen titans. In my own wonderful world I like to imagine that Baby Jason had (has) a crush on his older brother’s cool older friends (cough cough Roy).

How do you think that would go? (I’ve thought of these scenarios soooo many times)

Especially when he meets them again when he’s older, and ripped, and ohmygodthosethighs

Just asking Fellow Jason Todd Stan to Fellow Jason Todd Stan :)

Tysm for the ask!

Hmmm

I think the more Titans Jaybin had a baby crush on the cuter it gets.

Dick: so hey Jay how was it what did you think of my team?

Jaybin, who spent way too many hours surrounded by the coolest and prettiest people he's ever seen smiling and talking to him: I think I have arrhythmia.

As for his comeback, I'm gonna be honest I'm very critical of villainous Jason, I think UTH an intelligent, enjoyable story but I personally can't get over its flaws so I'm gonna answer using some AUs of mine, please bear with me. Mostly it's just hard to analyse and make hypothesis about a characterization you disagree with.

Antigonish : that's my personal UTH rewrite where Jason is still a villain/antihero/rogue but the way I'd have written it. In this, Jason (17) looks around 17 years old at most in UTH so he's still not exactly a sexy adult but I don't think the Titans know he's back yet. At the end of Antigonish, Jason leaves Gotham and Dick only finds out from Bruce after he left that Jason's back. So I think the way Dick learns it and passes it on the Titans is "there is a very deeply traumatized highly skilled teenager wandering across the country who needs urgent psychiatric care if lost please return to Batman." I don't know when he first meets the og Titans afterwards (though he maybe meets Roy first since I kinda want him to wind up in Star City for a while, make friends with Mia), but I think there would be that "best friend's undead little brother, handle with care" vibe going on on the Titan's side. On Jason's side, I can see him annoying the fuck out of Mia lmao -"wow your older brother is so handsome I wanna use these biceps as pillows for the rest of my life", "have you seen him with Lian, I wanna bear his children" she would be SO DONE with him

Now in an AU similar to Antigonish, but also closer to canon (aka trying to mash my version of Jason into various dc canons held together with glue to have in character!Roy with an older version of Antigonish!Jason teaming up) which I will call the Jayroy AU as its sole purpose for existence is that I want these people to date, Jason and Roy meet as adults (Jason is 22 and Roy 29). Why did they never meet before? Eh, raising a kid who definitely doesn't get exploded is hard work. Anyway the point is Roy doesn't recognise Jason. Jason is using a pseudonym (probably something stupid like Harper Teal) because of legally dead reasons and just assumes Roy recognised him and followed along, but he looks nothing like the cute little guy who blushed like a tomato every time Roy talked to him. At some point Jason casually mentions the adventure he had with the Titans and Roy goes through several kinds of shock and has to reboot like a computer.

> + bonus lantern AU:

Red Lantern Dick: "hey guys remember my first little brother Jason? He asked if he could get some help on an intergalactic issue."

The titans: "that cute kid? Didn't he die? And why would the second Robin need help with intergalactic threats anyway?"

Jason, thighs and tits on display, in his Star Sapphire uniform, with a machine gun construct under the arm: "Hey guys who wants to help me take down a space wide trafficking ring?"

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached 3

Part 1|Part 2

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst/depression and canon typical violence

I'm not entirely happy with this, but I hope you enjoy it anyways. Some things will probably be changed for the Ao3 version, this is very much first draft and I want to do a proper rewrite before then.

Jason parked his bike next to the Batmobile. There was a strange air in the Batcave or maybe it was just him being different. He couldn’t tell for sure. He stepped off the bike so he had his back towards Bruce, who sat by the Batcomputer with his cowl off. Jason could still feel his gaze when he looked up. He didn’t know what to feel. Where was he supposed to start?

“Little Wing!” Dick announced happily, suddenly slinging an arm across his shoulder from behind. It was only all his training that stopped him from jumping three feet into the air from the fright and he managed to just tense - but that was normal. Dick would consider that normal. Pull yourself together, Jason, he scolded himself. Normal, act normal, for one long moment he was grasping for what was normal. It definitely wasn’t the urge to lean into his big brother.

“Jay?” Dick asked quietly, worried, thankfully too quiet for anyone to hear. Panic grasped him and he elbowed Dick to get him off. Dick bent over with an oomph. At least elbowing Dick was a normal response, even if it was for the wrong reason.

Ignoring the strange urge to check on Dick, he squared his shoulders, firmly didn’t look back and walked forward towards the Batcomputer, where now that he had arrived the rest of this night’s patrol team gathered. Damian already out of his suit with damp hair and a towel slung around his neck glanced surreptitiously at Jason out the corner of his eyes even as he pretended to look towards Bruce - brat was still worried. Tim was curled up in an office chair doing who knew what with his laptop in a way that did not seem conducive to the healing of the broken ribs he’d been benched for. Bruce himself, paused what he was doing and spun around in his chair. Even sitting he managed to draw everyone’s attention, Tim even closed his laptop.

Jason purposefully crossed his arms and widened his stance. That’s what they expected of him, probably? How did he usually stand? He usually always felt one wrong comment away from a fight when he was here, he should stand like he expected it, right? Defensive.

This was exhausting.

At last Dick walked up to them completing their loose circle. He was rubbing his side and Jason felt a stab of worry and guilt. Had he aggravated an existing wound? Shit. Fuck. What was wrong with him? Why was he so worried?

“Oracle,” Bruce spoke, “please start.”

“Thanks to Hood, we now have a better headshot of the thief,” Oracle announced from the computer speakers“The Ghost,” Dick interjected in a sing song voice, “after what happened tonight you can’t disagree.”“Nightwing,” Barbara replied flatly, she didn’t even need to say she thought it was a stupid name. “The thief,” she reiterated in a way that left no room for any other arguments and Dick wisely held his silence. At least Dick knew Barbara well enough when to stop. Finally she pulled two photos up on the large screen. The one on the right was an older/early photo with the green glassed goggles obstructing much of the upper half of the face, a grin was a sharp line of white on the lower half of the face in the blurry photo, the quality was terrible and caught in movement.

The newer photo on the left showed a young man, maybe even late teens, eyes were wide, bright green, not quite glowing and his face beet red in embarrassment, mouth slightly open - this was taken just after he’d pushed away from Jason. His goggles sat at the edge of his messy black hair, just high enough to see the way he was beginning to swell on his forehead where Jason had clocked him.

Jason looked from one picture to the other, something was off to him. The grin was an obvious difference, but these where snapped in very different moments, and he shouldn’t let different emotions cloud his judgment.

“He’s lost weight.” The realization hit him with the certainty of a sledgehammer.

There’s dubious mumbling around him, about the blurriness of the first picture. But Jason is unmoved, there’s a hollowness to the guy’s cheeks that wasn’t there before.

“We can’t really judge that sort of thing with the quality of the first image,” Barbara cut through the murmurs. Jason knows he right, but he doesn’t feel like arguing.

He doesn’t feel like arguing, it’s another realization that leaves him wrong footed and he’s not listening for a minute. Checking back into the conversation he only caught the tail end of the conversation that was apparently about the Meta’s skills.“-we can now add phase shifting powers-““Like a Ghost.”

Tim groaned and Barbara outright growled - Jason reevaluated his earlier thought that Dick knew Barbara’s limits. Damian had already accepted the logic and Bruce had long since become immune to this sort of Dick antic.

“Back on topic,” was all he said. “Tim.”

Tim opened his laptop back up.

“Yes, so the items the thief-” There was a small beat as everyone waited for Dick to interrupt, Tim was side-eyeing him but continued; “-is stealing are still painting a very alarming picture, and there is a multitude of very dangerous uses, not to mention what kind of world ending horror they could be built into. Luckily he didn’t get the prototype spectral calibrator tonight, and we’ll be keeping it here for the time being and set the project on an indefinite hold at Wayne Enterprise.”Tim looked up at Bruce. “We’ll be needing to monitor Star Labs as they have a similar project, but so far the Ghost has not operated outside of Gotham to our knowledge.”

Bruce nodded, “I’ll arrange something.”

It was a signal for Tim to continue, “we’re still no closer to a way to capture him and the phase shifting is a whole other added concern. We’ll need to figure out if there’s something he can’t phase through, some denser materials perhaps. I just finished looking through tonight’s footage and from what I’m seeing at least the new filter program is holding up; both the audio and visuals have very few glitches now. But we still don’t know how he’s sending out the electromagnetic interference.”

“Ghoooost,” Dick said quietly under his breath.Tim’s left eye twitched dangerously. Jason couldn’t help smiling, it was very good he was wearing the helmet. Bruce once more ignored Dick looking to Damian.The kid straightened imperceptibly at the attention, it really was adorable, but his voice was as haughty as ever. “Blood sample is already being analyzed of course, tt.” Blood sample? Oh, that’s what Bruce had been doing on the roof, when Jason was distracted. A sick feeling rose in his stomach thinking of the blood, was Ghost even alive? He could be bleeding inside the head for all they knew.

“Hood,” Bruce asked quietly, “do you know why the Ghost reacted to you like that?”Jason stiffened. Fear grabbing cold onto his heart. There was no way he could tell them he thought it had to do with the pits. They’d think Jason was being influenced by the Ghost and bench him. He couldn’t let that happen, he needed answers. He didn’t need to fight his family.

“No damn clue,” he scoffed, hoping he sounded nonchalant and none of his panic shone through, “some weird trauma response? He’d just hit his head real good.”

Bruce looked at him dubiously, but he was clearly unwilling to risk pushing. Their truce was a tentative one after all, one they’d come to after many false starts and stops. Jason had never before been so glad for their tattered relationship.

“So to conclude,” Dick drew everyone’s attention off Jason, “the Ghost is still a mystery, we don’t know if he’s just a thief or a supervillain biding his time.”

“He’s not a supervillain.” Jason could have cursed himself, he’d just gotten their attention off him. Now he was forced to elaborate. “He’s not wearing any sort of body armor, just that hoodie.”

And he’d definitely broken some of his ribs landing on him, Jason thought with a pang of guilt.

“Not all villains wear body armor though,” Tim pointed out carefully, and now Tim was worried too, Jason had no clue what had given him away.

“The ones who engage in close combat with us usually do though,” Dick returned, and Jason could have hugged him for bailing him out again (if that had been normal, which it was NOT).

“He could just not be a very good villain?”

“Or he’s just banking on the fact that he’s very good at dodging,” Barbara interjected with annoyance before the discussion got out of hand, “or did you all just forget you’ve been chasing this guy for weeks without landing a substantial hit on him?” She could always be counted on to be the voice of reason.

Dick scratched the back of his head sheepishly. Tim looked down at his computer. Damian scoffed, trying to look unaffected but that was definitely almost a pout.

Bruce’s eyes twinkled in amusement as he stood up and was that almost a smile? How was this happening? It felt… His fingers dug into his arms. It felt like all the things Jason had convinced himself had never really been there. And there was Bruce’s hand landing on Damian’s shoulder; a silent comfort-encouragement, because Bruce was terrible with words but his touches always spoke volumes. And as the small smile bloomed on Damian’s face and he quickly looked away to hide it, Jason remembered exactly how that felt. Shit.

“Oracle, that’s all for tonight, we’re not getting anywhere without more information.”

“You got it, B, Oracle out.”

Jason spun and stalked towards his bike, before he did something, he didn’t know what exactly.

“Jay?”

Bruce’s voice stopped him in place. He glanced over his shoulder to see them all watching him. Don’t give anything away, he scolded himself.

“What is it, old man?” Jason asked trying to interject as much annoyance into his voice as he could, but it was so hard dredging up any of that when they looked at him worried like that, and his chest ached and he just sounded tired.

“It’s late,” Bruce said with a small unconscious wave of his hand as if anyone could tell the time of day from within the cave, “you could stay the night?”

After a beat he added, “Alfred would love to see you.”

Jason’s jaw clenched. Alfred would, but that’s not what Bruce was really saying, he was saying he would love to have him stay, but didn’t think Jason would be receptive to that and so he brought out the Alfred card. It was plain as day and how had Jason never seen that? Seen the longing on his dad’s face? His chest ached, he knew why. He was always so busy reading everything Bruce did as him trying to control him, every interaction tinted in green. His chest ached. Every inch of his body wanted to stay, to take a step back, see where this could lead, but he couldn’t.

He had to act normal. Normal Jason would never. Normal Jason could be back tomorrow for all he knew. He couldn’t do that to any of them, to himself.

With great difficulty he tore his gaze away from his family and walked the last steps over to his bike.

“Tell Alfred I’ll be coming over for tea on Tuesday,” he said loudly over the noise of his bike, not looking, because he didn’t want to see any of their reactions, then he tore out of there.

This was better for everyone.

Poor Jay really is having the time of it, maybe next part he'll get to actually enjoy not being angry.

next Masterpost for subscription link

[ladytauria]

@ragnarokhound asked: 🎃👻 Trick or treat!! 🍫🍬🍭

hehe hi fenris!!

you may have seen me answer this & then found it deleted—i accidentally clicked post while clearing away a notification. the joys of mobile Tumblr, lmao.

anyway!

for you... i am going to talk about my selkieljason wip! (as a warning, this is basically a summary of every detail i have for this fic so… if you don’t want spoilers for a hypothetical story that may never end up fully written, don’t click!)

it's a #+1 fic—i havent decided if it's going to be 3, 4, or 5 haha. the summary is:

X times Tim could have stolen Jason's coat but didn't, and 1 time Jason wrapped him in it.

It's an urban fantasy AU where non-humans are known about but either a) not common or b) still don't really show their faces much. There are a lot of stereotypes & untrue beliefs about the various non-humans, as well as conflicting myths & such. Most of them prefer not to deal with having to educate humans and either live among them secretly or have their own separate communities—or both.

Jason is a selkie, of course; Gotham has a small selkie community but they prefer to stay relatively secretive. Still, there’s a common phrase you hear among the folk of Gotham:

“You want an obedient spouse? Catch yourself a selkie wife.”

As such, Jason keeps his true nature tucked tight to his chest. He also can’t bear to be parted with his coat. It NEEDS to be within his sight at all times—nowhere else is safe enough. Luckily for him, the magic of a selkie’s pelt allows it to change forms as he wants/needs it to. It’s been a red hoodie, a school blazer, a yellow cape, and most recently, a brown leather jacket.

The bats are all aware that Jason is a selkie. Jason trusted Bruce enough to tell him after about six months to a year of living with him, and that knowledge spread to Alfred and Dick and later to Tim and Damian. (In this AU, the Robin uniform in Bruce’s case has no cape.)

I am picturing this happening while Tim and Jason are tentatively something. They start out as fwb with feelings. Both of them knowing the other has feelings but less sure of their own, if they can really be the person the other wants or needs.

There is also still definitely some friction between them. Since it’s Jason’s POV a lot of that friction is focused on whether or not Tim can live with the way he handles his cases as well as his distance from the other bats. But there’s also likely some concerns about whether or not Jason can live with Tim’s quirks, haha.

Anyway. Outside of their relationship they also work together a lot, because they genuinely do work very well as a team. They compensate for each other’s weaknesses and boost each other’s strengths—and these days, there’s a mutual respect, now that Tim is better at understanding Jason.

But they still have issues there, too.

Each of the five incidents involve them fighting or disagreeing. I also want to show them steadily taking steps in their relationship, as well; growing from fwb to more of a couple haha. But each of therese incidents/cicrcumstances involve Tim handling Jason’s coat while he’s vulnerable.

Each time, Jason wakes up fearing that Tim will have taken his coat and hidden it. Tim may not want a selkie groom—he can think of a lot of bad things about Tim, but never that he would coerce Jason into any kind of relationship—but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want Jason’s obedience. His cooperation.

Each time, though, Jason’s coat is either safe in his sight or touching him.

The last incident is definitely the worst and the one Jason thinks that Tim will break up with him over, even if he doesn’t take the coat, but instead—

Instead he doesn’t.

It cements Jason’s trust in Tim. That he can trust him not to take advantage of what he is no matter how bad their fights get or how angry Tim is with him. And he wants to show Tim that. That he knows it, that he loves him, so—

He does it the only way he knows how:

He wraps Tim in his coat and kisses him.

Which brings us to the only proper scene I have written for this fic:

Jason runs his thumb over his coat, the leather of its disguise buttery soft, and watches Tim. He’s utterly at ease on Jason’s couch, scrolling through his phone, one arm dangling off the armrest. Jason swallows, stomach twisting with nerves. He takes a breath—in through the nose, out through the mouth. Then, he strides forward, clenching his coat a bit tighter.

He kneels in front of Tim, capturing his attention. His phone falls to the side as Tim’s brows furrow. Before he can ask what Jason is doing, Jason unfurls his coat, wrapping it around Tim’s shoulders.

His eyes grow wide. “Ja— wh—“

Jason can feel the heat on his face. Knows he has to be pink, at the very least. But he doesn’t stop, tugging Tim forward and into the briefest, chastest kiss before resting their foreheads together.

“Caught you,” he murmurs.

The smile he receives is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

[highlordofkrypton]

I'm not into comics that much but why do Batman and Superman beef with each other? Like if you two don't kiss each other right now instead of fighting-

Like fuck beating the other to a pulp, just fuck each other already😑

Hi!

It really depends on what media you're following. They don't actually hate each other except in specific works. They're best friends, colleagues and at the very least, consider each other family. Even with the variety of universes in comics, Batman and Superman hating each other is very rare and in specific circumstances with reasons behind it.

Long story short: they don't (beef). They disagree and argue, sure. They're rivals, but in a manner that conveys the utmost respect for one another. Their friendship can turn toxic, too, but it's never out of hate.

Yes, there is initial friction when they start working together. Both come with a different set of values and methods to uphold justice, which is what makes their friendship so compelling. After everything, even when they don't see eye to eye, they support one another and they are there for one another. They show deep compassion and understanding for one another, even without necessarily speaking. Batman is highly observant, and Superman is endlessly compassionate.

I'm too tired to find the examples right now, but a couple of bullet points:

Batman is Superman's hero - Superman has unwavering faith in Batman even if his plans are batshit crazy. I can't find the panels rn, but there was even an arc where Batman had a plan that involved Clark slowly killing himself for a 1% chance (or something ridic like that) of saving the universe. It was horrible, but Clark trusted him no matter what.

When Bruce got engaged with Selina, there was an entire sidestory where they went on a double date with Clark and Lois, and both men went into great depth of why they admire one another and how important they are to each other. The respect between them is immeasurable.

Batman's first Robin (Dick Grayson) was a huge Superman fan, and Superman was an important part of his life. To the point that once he stopped being Robin and became Nightwing, his hero name 'Nightwing' actually comes from a Kryptonian story Superman told him.

Both Superman and Batman's respective families are closely knit, each 'bat' has a 'super' that is associated with them, either on a team with them or as friends. If they hated each other, I don't think their families would be this close-knit.

Superman knows the sound of Bruce's heartbeat and listens for it often.

Batman has a voice tone, or grunts, that is reserved for Clark only. Fun fact, the JL unanimously agrees that Clark is the best at doing the Batman voice.

They founded the Justice League together, along with Wonder Woman and other team variations (usually with the Flash and the Green Lantern).

Even in AUs where they hate each other, or they've grown apart, they still respect one another.

They have multiple comic runs as a duo/partners: World's Finest and Superman/Batman.

In one of the runs above, Superman's cousin crashes to earth and both Batman and Superman become parental figures and argue about raising her until Wonder Woman intervenes. Again, they disagree, but it was more on execution of integrating Kara onto earth.

Anyway, the idea that these heroes hate each other isn't really, at least in my experience with other comic fans, common? Mass media (such as films and video games) has a weird attachment to turning Superman into a villain to fight the allegations that he's boring, but he's actually a compelling character if you (general you, me @ the WB execs.) can get past the weird power-obsession and enjoy characters for their depth.

That said, while I do ship superbats, I have a deep appreciation for the women in their lives, especially Selina (who is able to recognize her feelings for Bruce and how they may not be good for one another) and Lois (who is such a fierce character on her own). They add so much to Batman and Superman respectively, so I whenever I talk about Superman and Batman, I make sure to mention this too.

It's important to me, especially in this ship to emphasize that it's not just about kissing the pain away, but understanding the depth and the history that comes with this relationship. Also, not erasing women for the sake of the ship, too.

Final disclaimer: comics have so many different versions, timelines and resets that someone can easily swoop in and prove me wrong, so please take everything above as my way of enjoying the comics.

If I have the energy, I will try to find the panels, but I am so tired 😭

[kit04kat]

Ranking the batfamily most to least likely to become a supervillian. (Plus all my ramblings about why I put who where [disclaimer, i have not read the comics due to me not having that kind of money]) I started thinking about this while reading a fanfiction where Dick, Jason and Tim were taken in by villians instead of Batman and it got me thinking. Anyways, let's get to the rankings.

1: Tim Drake. Starting off strong with our resident boy-genius with stalker tendencies. This may shock some of you, but I look at this human disaster and see a plethora of supervillian potential. You take away this man's adult supervision and the world may never be the same. What was happening with the league of assassins? And the fact that he tried to clone his best friend out of grief? Also I feel like we all skimmed over the fake uncle shenanigans too quickly. I once saw someone say something like Tim's moral code is copy-pasted off a house rules sticky note on the fridge and I agree.

2: Jason Todd. Seriously, we all saw this coming. Now, you might ask me, "but Kat, why is Jason at number 2? Didn't Red Hood already do the villian thing?" And to that I say, Ha! I am ranking them on supervillianiousness(???) Jason had his whole revenge plot and crime lord thing in Gotham but after that was done, he kinda settled out a little bit. So no, I don't think Jason has ever been a supervillian, just a villian, and after that he was more like an antihero/vigilante. That being said, I don't think he is incapable of being a supervillian, which is why he is number 2.

3: Stephanie Brown. Ok, I'm gonna be honest, I was really wavering on the order of the people in the middle. Also, I'm not gonna claim to know a whole lot about the adventures Steph has been through. That being said, I feel like she is just a tad bit more unhinged than the rest of the people in the middle, and therefore more likely to go insane. And if she had the proper motivation, she could totally be a badass supervillian. (Kind of reminds me of Jason in that way)

4: Damian Wayne. Alright, here's the thing. A lot of Damian's character development has been about him overcoming his heritage and learning that the things he learned with the league of assassins were bad. That being said, I don't think he will ever leave behind those ideologies as thoroughly as Cass and Bruce did. I think he sees the world in a lot more shades of grey than they ever will, and because of that, I've decided to put him forth on our list.

5: Barbara Gordon. I'm putting Oracle right smack dab in the middle. Not because I couldn't figure out where to put her, but because that's where she belongs. Listen, do I think she would ever become a supervillian? No, not really. However, if for some reason she had to become a supervillian, she'd be able to do it. If she ever turned to the dark side, it would be completely thought out. Calculated. And my girl doesn't do anything half-assed.

6: Duke Thomas. Now, Imma be honest, I don't know a whole lot about Duke, and I didn't really know where the best place to put his would be on this lineup. I put him in 6th cause I don't think he'd turn into a supervillian but he's more likely than the last three. He probably deserves to go further up the list, but oh well.

7: Bruce Wayne. I know some people will probably say he should be further up the list, but here is my reasoning. Batman's whole kinda thing is that he's always toeing the line. He's doesn't kill because he knows he wouldn't be able to stop. He is Darkness, Vengeance, the night, all that stuff. (It's why Batman needs a Robin) If he broke, he'd be broken. I don't think he'd be able to come back from that (I also disagree with myself a bit, cause there's no way his kill count is 0. I mean, he's been beating people up at night instead of therapy for decades) Anyways, that being said, man is stubborn and has been doing this vigilante stuff for a longggg time. I simply don't think he's gonna turn.

8: Dick Grayson. We are getting towards the bottom of the list here, to the people I think are least likely to become a supervillian. Dick has been through so much. With Renegade, Red X, Spiral, whatever was up with Ric, he took up the cowel and became Batman when Bruce was gone (which is something he never wanted to do), he's had so many of his friends die, family die, and that's not even all! He's been through a lot, but he's also the light to batman's dark. He's been through all that and still chooses to be good. There's no way he's ever becoming a supervillian (even if it is a very interesting plot in fanfiction)

9: Cassandra Cain. Last but certainly not least, Cass. I personally think she is the least likely to become a supervillian. She was raised as a weapon and taught to kill, but she has completely overcome that. She won't kill at all, much like Bruce, but she's also more emotionally sound. Her morals are strict, and she doesn't have to fight with herself to keep them. I love her so much, truly one of the best of us.

I'm gonna put Alfred as a honorable mention. He doesn't get to go on the list cause honestly, if he ever became a villian, it's over. He's have the world in his clutches before the week is over. Gotta respect him for having the patience of a saint.

This was so long! Anyways, feel free to add to this or tell me how you would rank them differently!!

[justa-smalltown-gargoyle]

Hey batman/batfam people, I wanted to talk about something. I know this might not be received well, but...this is my blog. So if you disagree with me, feel free to block me! Literally that's what's great about this site. (I've been trying to do so on my end, but I thought I'd reach out a bit.....idk maybe try to form some understanding?)

I have been a batman fan since like...age 13 or something. Batman as a character means so fucking much to me, as does all his kids and massive extended family. (can't forget Alfred, Kate, Lucius, and Jeff Gordon!!) And I know that they mean a lot to you guys too.

In comic book and fandom spaces we talk a lot about misrepresentation of characters in fandom, but even in "canon" or rather published/produced content. I have beef with a lot of live action adaptions of Batman for example.

The thing with comic book characters, even more than some fandoms/pieces of media, is that there is SO MUCH content out there, that two people can say they like this one character but those two versions might be in total contradiction. But does that make one right over the other? does that make one superior?

Now, I hate Ben Affleck's Batman. And to fans of his, I'd say, you want the punisher, not Batman, because to me, that goes against who Batman is fundamentally. I read the comics, watch a lot of the animated stuff, and formed my own opinion and version of Batman. However, and this seems to be a controversial take, i really enjoy Wayne Family Adventures.

I see a lot of hate on here for WFA (and on tiktok but they're another beast), which, it's not for everyone, that's okay! Not everyone has to like what I like. But what I don't agree with, is that people who like WFA are seen as "not true batman fans", "they haven't ever read a comic". "they only like the flat fanon versions of the characters", etc.

These comments I would like to rebut- some comic readers such as myself might enjoy WFA. There might be people that have never read a comic or even watched anything batman related but like WFA. Are they not valid to enjoy that and have their own fandom for that? Are they not allowed to be fans of Batman?

I also would ask, how much of WFA did you actually read? In it's nature, it's suppose to be the bat family on their time off, or more light stories, but it actually addresses things like Jason's trauma, Duke moving in to the Manor, Damian struggling to fit in at school, things like that. Now if you read pretty far and still didn't like the portrayal of the characters, that's fine, I'm not asking you to change your opinion, however I am asking you to make space for those who do enjoy it, or that WFA is their first introduction or only experience with the Batman and co.

WFA isn't perfect, but it holds a special place in my heart, and gives me more content for Not Perfect but Trying and Cares Dad Bruce Wayne which I am grateful for. And tbh I feel like it just shows other sides to the characters we don't see that often!

And again, obvi people have their opinions, I guess I'm just asking for us to be more aware and create a space where people can feel free and excited to talk about these characters that we all love. I enjoy content and discussions I see in the tags and different blogs but then I see the hate for WFA fans and it just puts a real damper on otherwise really good content.

Anyways, thanks for reading!

[frownyalfred]

Hi Res how have you been doing ?✨️

Question about your a/b/o-verse!

I see the term "carrier" and "parent" be used a lot rather to more usual gendered terms like mother and father (I don't remember if Bruce or Alfred commonly refer to his parents as his mother and father).

Do pup still refer to the parent that carried them during pregnancy as mother/mom and to the other one as father/dad, despite their primary gender? I often see that in a/b/o, like the pregnant parent is referring to themselves as mom no matter if they are a man/woman/other and was wondering about that!

TBH I'm quite curious because I've never read man/woman a/b/o stuffs and I wonder if there was a female alpha with a male omega (him carrying the pups), would he be referred as mom, directly challenging the norms of our society... Anyway! Food for thoughts <3

Have a nice day,

-Jay

(ps: love the tiktok superbat account too haha)

Hi friend! I'm doing okay. Just trying to get through the week, you know?

My goal in writing this fic specifically was to avoid ever having to call Bruce "mom" just because he's an omega with pups. I really like the gender neutral "carrier" and even "sire" (though I wish there was a better word) since it allows for multiple genders and designations to mix and choose the term that best fits for them.

Since Martha and Thomas were both cisgender, I imagine Bruce might have called them mother and father if he wanted. But he would most definitely call them carrier/sire as a default.

One thing I have done differently which I'm still unsure about is having "carrier" not just as a biological term, but as a gender neutral parenting term in general. I.e., Bruce might not have carried Jason to term, but he is Jason's carrier? Jason doesn't call him mom or dad. But he (and if not him, then other people) refer to Bruce as Jason's carrier frequently.

I suppose it all comes down to personal preference. Since Bruce spent so long repressing his dynamic, I don't think he really relishes being called mom. But Lex clearly disagrees and occasionally uses gendered language, usually just to irk Bruce. He also calls himself "Uncle Lex" despite being omega.

It's all a very interesting hodgepodge of our gender norms, in-universe a/b/o tropes, and the a/b/o tropes I've chosen to subvert with my own interpretations.

And, of course, it all depends on how the in-universe trends are going, as we've discussed on here. Are newer generations more or less comfortable with older pack dynamics/instincts? Are they trying to move to a more nuclear family ("mom" and "dad") and away from same-designation couples? Same gender couples?

I'm curious what everyone else thinks.

[yaraaflor]

is there a reason you like dickhelena? what's your ideal idea of a relationship between them - a shorter thing or do you see them working out

omg tell me how this ask has been in my inbox a whole ass month and i never saw it... my bad anon i wasn't ignoring you lol i just never get asks ig. anyways! answer got long so it's under the cut.

dickhelena my beloved... well first of all i do NOT see them ever working out as a like. super long-term married couple type thing. i think their relationship could be functionally good in a lot of ways but they will always have a fundamentally different view of killing and the ethics of it. and i don't think dick would ever be able to fully get past that. like... how do i put this... i think he would be able to get over it TO A POINT out of love, but it would always be a source of tension between them, and at some point the issue would be forced, either by helena killing someone or them disagreeing about somebody else killing someone. i don't think dick's no-killing morality is quite as strong as bruce's, but it's not nothing to him. and i also think he would take issue with the why of it all - like helena killing people bc she believes they cannot be reformed, as opposed to like. idk kory who comes from a different culture and has had to kill her own oppressors.

and also i think bruce would be a permanent issue for them. like helena has a super complex relationship with bruce (and ofc dick does too but he's always going to be loyal to bruce, as his father figure), and bruce sure as hell would not approve of their relationship. which, dick wouldn't let bruce just trample all over his love life, but. at a certain point, having your SO and your family at odds with each other can become exhausting.

BUT just because i don't think they would last forever doesn't mean i don't think the relationship would be meaningful. i think they could have a lot of fun together, if they let themselves, and i think they could make each other happy for a time.

i think a key part of dickhelena is, even when they disagree, they're not incapable of understanding each other. they're both children of gotham who have lost a lot to violence and are trying to help others avoid that. and unlike a lot of the other bats, they both try to maintain an ordinary life and job alongside their vigilante work. they both have soft hearts and hard heads. the way they show it is pretty different, but it's there.

and i mean part of the draw of the relationship to me is the complexity of it. of being at odds about one or two major issues, but compatible in so many other ways. of having a kind of love-hate, flirting-fighting dynamic, and a bit of a messy history. but despite that, seeing the good in each other, and still seeing it even when things are over.

there's something to be said, imo, for relationships that don't work out, but don't end with bad blood either. like it's those relationships that often help people learn and grow, and i think they get overlooked in fandom a lot. for understandable reasons! we all have an otp we want to be in love forever. but for dick and helena, i think of them more as like a 'we didn't work out but it's not because the love wasn't there' type thing. love isn't always enough to make things last and that's important to realize.

....looking back i feel like to a certain extent my answer might not be satisfactory here bc a part of my reason for liking dickhelena is like... i just do? lol. like i love both their characters and i like them together and i think they have a certain chemistry that i can't really put into words. and i understand that not everyone feels that way about them which is fine.

but yah. sorry for making you wait for this anon lol

[colorfulyetsinful]

I really love Jason Todd,

So ofc I had to make a Jason Todd hc list… (I wrote this on my phone)

This is going to be more of when was Jason was Robin bc I need more of Jason being Robin and Jason being Bruce’s favorite bc he is Bruce’s favorite

Anyways if you disagree, you dumb

Jk….kinda

Also I’m not the best at writing Spanish, so plss don’t mind my Spanish :,)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason Todd hc!!!

Jason and Bruce speak Spanish to each other

“Suenas como un gringo, Bruce”

“Jasón, soy un chico blanco”

(did I say it right?😀)

Late night, last minute hw,

“You had 3 hours to do your hw Jason”

“Coño Bruce, I get it!! Now show me how to do fractions”

Jason picks the meals for dinner and helps Alfred with the cooking

Cringes at Bruce’s dad jokes

If he’s mad at Bruce he’ll go running to Selina or Diana if they’re at the watchtower

Sleepy piggyback rides on Bruce

When Jason is sick, he tends to keep to himself as to not be a burden to others. Would somehow end up in bed with Bruce rubbing his back

Is picked on at school bc of his background;

Is referred as the “street rat” or dirty brown boy (yk rich white kids),

would usually keep to himself or would just insult them back (it got him in trouble a lot)

until they mentioned his mother and mah boi saw RED,

was suspended for a week on top of detention bc he “started the fight”

Dick is a bit distant with Jason bc he sees him as a replacement and is a bit bitter,

but he’s only bitter to Bruce, he try’s not to argue in front of Jason

“Bruce, can I have a puppy!!”

“What kinda?”

That’s how they hit ace

Ace is Jason’s dog

That dog follows him around and could/will bite off anyone’s arm if they ever try to hurt him

Visited the titan tower once (1x) and felt ✨weird✨ around Roy

Roy showed him how to shoot an arrow and Jason couldn’t sleep that night

When he met Diana, the poor guy was too shy to even say anything

He just starred at her from behind Batman’s leg and hid in Batman’s cap

Is dragged through the mud by the media,

yet everyone (most of his teachers and the league) loves him

Wanted to be a culinary major with a minor in literature,

but that never happened 🥲