#oliver queen being a MUCH better parent than bruce

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

You are ENTIRELY correct, I cut a whole ass unpacking of that shit out cause I did not have the spoons for it at the time. But now... MUAHAHAH I HAVE THE POWER; I HAVE THE SPOONS!

Here's the panels:

Batman (1940) #410

Here's him having the same discussion with Alfred:

Batman (1940) #410

He's the rest of Dick prying the real reasons out of Bruce during their argument:

Batman (1940) #416

An incredibly important question to ask here is: Does Bruce, at any point, give Jason the clear option to just be his kid and go to school instead of being Robin? Because that was super an option available to him! He could have just raised Jason and not had him be Robin!

And no. No he fucking doesn't. Correct me if I'm wrong but I cannot recall a single spot where that is given to him as an option. Even if it was, it seems pretty self evident to me that Batman has never made room in his life for kids that aren't also his crime fighting partners, and it would be pretty weird to assume that Jason wouldn't feel like he needs to be Robin in order to have Bruce's care and attention. Certainly Dick wound up with - in his own estimation - no life outside of being Bruce's partner.

Batman (1940) #416

So we have baby Jason's logic here of "No where else in the whole wide world is safe for me to go. I'm better off supporting myself as a thief than with CPS, and I'm better off as Robin than homeless or supporting myself as a thief."

And we have Bruce's rationalizations here of "He's been neglected and living on his own, and being Robin is better than being homeless so... it's FINE to put this new kid in danger!!! Cause he's tough :) And I really miss my partner in crime fighting :("

So really and truly, Jason is put into the Robin role because he is poor and his health and safety are considered less important because of that. Like you can not get around the fact that Jason's poverty is the excuse being used to endanger his life for the emotional benefit of an adult. He even pretends like Jason's not really a child because he grew up impoverished and neglected! And it is explicitly textually stated that those are false excuses to prop up his desire for a partner after he kicked his previous partner out!

AAAAHHHHHH!

I'd like to next call to attention the parallel between Oliver Queen's treatment of Mia Dearden when she kills someone and Bruce Wayne's treatment of Jason Todd after whatever happened with Felipe.

Oliver Queen takes full responsibility as the adult mentor in the situation and considers it a tragedy that is on all levels his fault. In his eyes, she should never have been put in that situation to begin with.

Green Arrow (2001) #39

Green Arrow (2001) #40

He comforts her immediately and hugs her, even though clearly he wanted to find a way that didn't involve death, and probably doesn't think it was necessary! The human warmth and compassion Oliver shows her is startling to see after reading Batman's treatment of Jason because...

Bruce Wayne in stark contrast does not treat Jason like he's his responsibility or his child; he treats him as if he's a full adult who doesn't need a parental figure at all. Thus Jason is treated as guilty of a crime, and given suspicion and pushed away.

Batman (1940) #425

Batman (1940) #425 - as a side note, this is basically the last thing that happens before Jason dies, so like, just take a moment to drink in the fact that Bruce is telling Jason that a vengeful murderous father is simply the inescapable consequence of killing someone's son. I will literally never be over this.

By this point in the story, Bruce has put Jason in so many situations that no child should have to witness on the truly fucked up grounds that Jason's already been through so much with no thought to trying not to add to that load. Bruce is absolutely, as his father and caregiver and mentor, equally (if not more) responsible for Felipe's fate than Queen was for Mia's killing of the summoner.

The thing is though, Bruce doesn't want a CHILD to nurture, he wants a PARTNER to fight crime with, and he is eminently willing to ignore a child's well-being in order to treat them as a partner.

That, I think, is ultimately what kills Jason.

Too Dangerous for Kids

So, recently I had reason to go back and read Jason's post-crisis debut comic Batman (1940) #408 and it clicked really hard that basically the central theme of Jason becoming Robin was that Robin was too dangerous a job for kids. Before he becomes Robin, Dick got injured, badly, by the Joker, and Batman swore to never endanger another child like that, which is the reason Dick stops being Robin at all

Batman (1940) #416

And I'm friggin realizing now that the posing in Death of the Family is straight up a mirror to this scene of Dick having been shot?? I'm losing my mind???

Batman (1940) #408

Like, look at this in universe magazine shot with this talk on the radio compared to Bruce holding Jason and tell me this was not deliberate????

Batman (1940) #408 and Batman (1940) #428

And THIS TALK?????

Batman (1940) #408

I just... HMMMM, idk there's something very fascinating to me that the theme of 'this is too dangerous for kids' has been there in Jason since day zero.

It also makes me sympathize a lot with poor Dick who got fired "cause it's too dangerous for a kiddo out there", when he was no longer a child, and then WHAT DOES BRUCE HAVE WITH HIM NOT EVEN A YEAR LATER?!

Batman (1940) #416

He's devastated by the realization there's a new Robin, then harsh and critical of the new Robin because he's sure they're gonna screw up and get hurt

Batman (1940) #416

Not because he wants his old job back

Batman (1940) #416

Despite his misgiving about the mantel being passed on at all, at the end of it, he still gives Jason his respect and acceptance into the role

Teen Titans (2003) #29

And this has such fascinating parallels to Jason's reaction to finding out there's a new Robin after him!

Red Hood: The Lost Days #4

He is devastated by the realization there's a new Robin, then attempts to brutally dissuade the new Robin from keeping the mantel because he's sure they're gonna screw up and get killed

Teen Titans (2003) #29

Not because he wants his old job back

Teen Titans (2003) #29

Despite his misgiving about the mantel being passed on at all, at the end of it, Tim still has his respect, and perhaps even his acceptance into the role, although he was far too violent about it to actually properly give the role over like Dick did for him.

Teen Titans (2003) #29

Neither of them have a petty, jealous reaction of you replaced me, but instead have a tangled mess of "I was sloppy, I wasn't good enough, I got hurt, and now you put an even less prepared child in the line of fire?!" Jason is wildly more violent about it, but at the core I feel like the sentiments are the same, and it kinda makes sense because really the end of their times as Robin were very similar to each other, just Jason's was wildly more violent!

I can't help but wonder if maybe part of Jason's reasoning somewhere along the line was "Now I finally get why Dick was so harsh on me back then." And... honestly I don't think it is. Cause while it would make sense it just doesn't seem to be a parallel either of them is conscious of.

It's just this fascinating set of reflections neither one seems to see.

[lionwitch]

Ok, hear me out. An AU where Janet Drake is best friends with Lex Luthor, Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen.

They met in school, and she's a high society girl, not expected or allowed to be much more than a pretty face, but there's this trio of smart idiots (they did all sorts of stupid stuff at school, but they are overall very, very smart), and they're in all sorts of cool classes and extracurriculars, and she wants to learn

So, she snakes her way into the group with well-timed looks and blushes. They eventually include her in all their activities, and so she learns all sort of stuff that she usually wouldn't be allowed to learn, because they help her keep it in the down low. No, she's not taking classes with them, she's being a proper lady and cheering her smart friends on through the oh-so-hard classes.

At some point or another, they all develop a crush on her, fleeting as it may be (they're hormonal teens and they're required to flirt, it was bound to happen)

They flirt publicly, as it keeps the media from pressuring them into relationships— or so they thought. It backfires when they're adults, the media is demanding Janet settle down and stops leading all three of them on. But there would be a scandal if she picked any of them, so she picks Jack, someone who doesn't love her or she loves, but someone desperate enough to climb the social ladder to care if he loves his wife.

When he's not allowed to flirt anymore, that's where Bruce realizes that he actually liked her.

When Tim comes along, and Janet has to go on trips, she leaves him with her trusted friends. So, Tim learns a lot from his Uncle Lex, learns to shoot a bow from his Uncle Ollie, and loves staying with his Uncle Bruce and his children. He figures him out far too easily and does become Robin when Jason figures he's ready to pass on the mantle to his little brother (because they're brothers. Tim spends a lot of time in their house)

Bruce adores Tim, he really does. It just kinda hurts, that he's Janet's kid, but not his.

Eventually, Janet divorces Jack, and she gets to spend a lot more time in Gotham. But by now Tim is as much Bruce's as he is Janet's, so they co-parent the gremlin that is her son, which leads to a lot of time with Bruce.

Bruce treats her better than Jack ever did, and she trusts him far more. They have the memories of years together. Eventually, Bruce tells her the truth— that he never truly moved on from his best friend.

When they marry, sure it's a media circus, but also not a surprise.

She's also a good mom, to Tim as much as to Dick or Jason.

When Jason finds out Catherine is not his mom, sure he gets curious, but he has a mom already, he's happy. He does want to meet his bio mom, but he agrees to do so safely, not go alone. Fine, B, you can come with.

Joker never happens. Jason is disappointed when he finds his mom is not at all what he expected, and he has a much better one at home.

Eventually, when Damian comes into the picture, he's snappy with Janet. "you will never be my mother, you harlot!" but Janet simply puts a hand on his shoulder and speaks calmly, yet sharp as the blade he threatens her with

"You will not speak to me like that, boy. No, I am not your mother. But I am married to your father, and I hold the authority as such, so you will go up to your room, you will cool down, and you will never threaten or insult me again, or you will be grounded."

"You can't do that!"

"She can. She has my full permission to discipline my kids, Damian. In this house, she holds as much authority as I do." Bruce interjects

Damian, begrudgingly, learns to respect Janet, and eventually he does see her as a second mom

The amount of times Oliver or Lex visit the Wayne-Drake household is absurd, but sue them, they like their friends. This leads to a lot of chaos, because every time Oliver visits so does Roy, and Roy hangs out with Dick and Jason, while Damian sticks to glaring at everyone.

Meanwhile, they dote on Tim, because they sure as hell have a favourite nephew, and it's the one they watched grow inside the belly of one of their best friends, the one they all changed the diapers of, the one they've taught a lot of skills to, the one they helped raise in a way they never helped raise any of the other Wayne boys. They don't even try to hide their preference. Now, of course they like all their nephews, but it's always hilarious because when Tim is around his uncle Lex, he's ten times the evil mastermind he generally is, and Oliver encourages it, simply for the chaos, and so does Janet, while Bruce is downright terrified of the idea of Tim as a villain (everyone is)

[littlefankingdom]

I really dislike the idea of the Wayne ancestors being good people.

Mostly because, well, rich people fucking suck. And we are talking about old money in the USA, that means racism and colonialism. AND Bill Finger wanted Bruce to have a family name suggering colonialism, which means, when they created Bruce Wayne, they wanted his family's money to come from colonialism. And they chose Wayne, from Anthony Wayne, known as Mad Anthony by his contemporaries, a big colonizer who hated natives, was against peace with them, and stole their land. So, at the creation of Batman, the Wayne name was meant to imply that the Wayne got rich from stealing from the Natives and treating them like shit (Anthony Wayne burned Natives' fields and homes before winter to destroy their resistance, which probably killed many folks)

But also, Bruce is meant to be the exception. Bruce character is not "some rich people are nice", it's "rich people suck, he's unique" (of course, Oliver Queen is another exception). One of the theme of Batman is "the blood of the convenant is thicker than the water of the womb", he makes his own family. Bruce only cares about the Wayne legacy because of his admiration and love for his late parents. He takes care of the company because he wants to make them proud, and because he doesn't want it to fall into bad hands. He wants the money to go to good causes, and he doesn't trust other people to not just be capitalists. But, apart from looking for his dead parents' approval, Bruce doesn't care about the Wayne legacy much. For a nepo-baby, he doesn't plan to give his company to his kids, none of them have shown real interests (yes, even Tim. He doesn't want to be a CEO), it's more likely he plans to give it to an employee he trusts, like Lucius Fox. And he also only cares about the manor as his parents' house. When it is destroyed, Bruce first wants to rebuild it exactly the same because he is afraid of insulting his parents' memories, but once he is better, he actually build a new one to fit him and his family, with Alfred, Tim and Dick giving their ideas. Bruce's connection to the Wayne family is superficial. He uses the name and the money as a masquerade to hide his real personality and his identity as Batman. He is separated from what the Wayne were. So, making the Wayne ancestors good is kind of weird, as if Bruce's goodness (that he doesn’t believe in) is just hereditary or something, creating a link between him to people he doesn't care about or relate to.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Ari everything you write about Clark is an absolute dream! Thank you so much for sharing!

"What is it with you two, anyway," Clark asked, watching you navigate the downtown traffic at speeds that had him fidgeting with his seat belt.

You shrug carelessly, "When we were kids it was just easy to be friends. We were both too smart for our own good. And after his parents died; well. Shoving Bruce into whatever I was doing got him out of the house. And Jackie was a capable sitter and kept us out of too much trouble. So it gave Alfred a break."

Clark nodded. There was more. Everyone knew that. That had been Bruce's story for years. He'd ALWAYS talked fairly openly about how important you'd been to him. Especially then.About how much Alfred had adored you. Trusted Jackie. What he wanted to know was about Selina. That's what didn't add up. On paper, you and Bruce were a perfect match. The playboy and the Athlete. Young. Beautiful. Driven. Childhood Bestfriends. Beacons of a new and brighter age... If he tried he couldn't dream up a better story. Hell. Papers had been doing it for years. But instead, you were tooling around Metropolis thinking about getting a nice apartment there. And Bruce was still calling your phone and being ignored.

"When we got older of course, Bruce started to make other friends. Upper crusty, fancy friends. And that's where Oliver Queen came in. And about that time Selina was working her way in." You snort. Ollie, Bruce and I tended to make just enough trouble to be Salacious but not dangerous. To make a headline or two. Feed the Paparazzi. Get a little rambunctious. And between their money and my dimples we could get away with anything short of a felony."

"I believe it," Clark huffed. He'd been the victim of your pouting too many times to believe it had much to do with the money. You were too cute and too sweet looking when you looked up at him all doe-eyed and "Please, honey?" It was dangerous. He rolled over every time. And you knew he was gonna. Thankfully, you didn't exploit it for much more than getting him to carry you to bed. Or convincing him to clean your car off in the morning when it was frosty.

"And With Bruce being an awkward aloof little weirdo before he figured out how to act like a whore, it wasn't a bad thing having a couple pretty girls just in rotation. We laughed at his jokes. We teased him and made him blush- we made him human instead of an oddity."

"Until?"

"Until," you sigh, "Selina wanted him to herself and made it a competition. She wanted what I had with Bruce but she didn't understand what that WAS."

"Not romantic?"

"God no," you scoff, "At least not on my end. It's hard to want to kiss someone when you spend most of the time you talk to them wanting to choke them."

"Fair," Clark chuckled, refraining from pointing out that you liked that sometimes.

"I love Bruce. Dearly. But I'm not in love with him. I just- sometimes I feel more like I'm a security blanket to him than a person. Selina is a person. She gets to be complicated. She gets to be messy. She gets to fuck up. And I get to be there to put him back together."

"That doesn't seem fair," Clark said frowning.

"Life's not fair."

"Even after Jackie-" Clark broke off, biting his tongue. It was a sore subject. Painful. And he heard your heart stutter just at the thought. The sharp exhale, like it was still a gut punch made his own stomach clench.

"He wasn't there," you say simply. "He was training. He didn't even know- Alfred tried but. It's not like anyone could just call him. No one knew where he was. He just came back twice as ripped and twice as angry."

"And you were alone?" Clark said incredulously, "That whole time?"

"Alfred was there," you remind him. "And I did- do have other friends I just- it was hard."

"I know you told me to stay out of it, baby," Clark grumbled, "but Bruce really deserves-"

"What good would it do?" you challenge, "aside from make it harder for you to work with him later? I'm a big girl. I can handle it. And I will. In my own time."

"Alright," Clark said, claiming the hand that wasn't on the steering wheel and kissing it softly. "But. I'm gonna step in if I feel like he crosses a line."

"Which line?"

"One I really don't like."

[warrior-of-storms]

Friendly reminder that canonically Oliver Queen is a better parent than Bruce Wayne. I like good dad Bruce as much as the next guy but dang we forgive or ignore A LOT as a fandom. Oliver Queen my beloved can do no wrong and when he does do wrong, he apologizes and works to make amends with his kids.

If given the choice between being Robin and being Speedy or another Arrow diminuative, the right answer is the one that lands you with Oliver Queen. Thems the facts.

[roobylavender]

someone posted this panel regarding oliver vs bruces parenting taking a jab at bruce that seems funny enough, like we can just like the post and move on but i checked the notes and apparently fans of each family are at war arguing with each other😭mostly shitting on bruce because oliver is the better parent and somebody brought up how when queen and his kids were having issues at some point that it was ooc and while i am not super well read on GA stuff i can definitely buy that, but what i dont understand is why that isnt allowed for bruce. i saw tags concerning the other horrible things bruce has done as like a gotcha to bat fans and its like why are only his comics the ones we take at face value as 100% accurate and in good faith am i wrong for finding this dumb😭

not at all i totally agree it’s dumb lol 😭 the thing that confuses me about the bruce v oliver debate is that i don’t get why there’s a need to compare when their parenting issues are at completely different ends of the spectrum. granted i do think both of them have issues with communicating but those stem from different things. every problem bruce has as a parent has to do with how he neurotic he is about being a parent to begin with. he cares too much, he worries constantly, he carries reams of guilt, etc. he’s constantly arguing within himself whether to keep the people he loves close so he can make sure they’re safe or to let them go so they can pursue their own dreams and aren’t put in harm’s way bc he asked them to stay. he’s like, a conditional-helicopter parent, in the sense that the helicopter gene only activates when people are in his city, which is why he allows them to walk away bc then it means he’s not trying to control them (except we obv know that leads to the problem where they feel like he’s pushed them away bc they think he thinks they’re not good enough)

oliver to me in comparison is someone who initially did not take parenthood seriously enough and almost treated it like he did any other relationship. unlike bruce, he was very intentional with treating roy like an equal—when i use that modifier at the beginning what i mean to say is that bruce was very cognizant of his position as a parent. dick’s safety was a higher priority than was dick’s self esteem (at least beyond the zucco incident which had a very specific goal of closure) even though bruce very much came to believe that dick was his equal, esp as an adult—and to the extent that when roy got into serious trouble with drugs oliver not only expressed this sort of condemnatory disappointment but also only expressed pride at roy having recovered from his addiction later on bc it was something he did on his own. he respected roy’s responsibility and maturity even though realistically as a parent he should have stepped in to help bc roy was still barely an adult and he had fallen prey to drugs bc oliver left him alone in the first place

those are both styles of parenting that i think you can criticize. there’s pros and cons to being too protective of your children vs not protective enough. and i think people tend only to criticize the former style and its example in bruce bc a recovery of his relationships with his children has never been the goal in the way that it is for oliver’s writers. which is a shame bc i really don’t think you or i believe bruce is as intentionally selfish as writers portray him to be. but alas 😭

[definitelynotthedarklord]

My idea for a Batman Animated Series.

In the first season he's that stereotypical year one Batman, dark and gritty, a boogeyman to be whispered about by cops and crooks alike, fighting mostly his more reality grounded enemies like Falcone and Black Mask as he struggles to find balance between being batman and Bruce Wayne, and in the finale we see Batman thwart some mobsters trying to break into Ace Chemicals, led by, you guessed it, Red Hood.

Then, in season 2, things get a bit crazier when characters like Riddler, Mad Hatter, Two Face, Penguin and Catwoman make the scene, but none of them come close to the insanity that is The Joker in the finale.

Then season 3 comes around and we begin to expand on Batman's character and the universe around him, bringing in actual supervillains like Mr Freeze, Man Bat, Poison Ivy, Scarecrow and others, while also bringing in Dick Grayson, who Batman meets as Dick's looking for the man who killed his parents, Batman sees part of himself in Dick and takes him in, and offers to teach him how to be like Batman so he can bring his parent's killer to justice, but over the course of Dick's training it becomes clear Dick is not Batman, hes loud when he should be stealthy, makes jokes in serious situations and takes unnecessary risks because of his overconfidence in his abilities, but after a a fight with Mr. Freeze where he almost dies to protect his wife, Bruce starts to wonder if its better if Dick isn't like him, if he could be a better hero than Batman, and thus Robin is born. It would also be the season we start introducing other heroes, like after fighting Maxie Zeus, Batman has a brief and combative encounter with Wonder Woman, and in another episode stops his long lost friend, Oliver Queen, from killing the man who tried to kill him, and in stead brought him to justice, inspiring him to become a hero like Bruce (he'd get the idea of being green from getting green paint spilled on him and a news photographer getting a picture of "The Dark Knight and The Evergreen Archer.") And another episode where Lex Luthor approaches Bruce about buying some tech, but Bruce shoots him down, knowing all too well Lex would use the tech for evil, but the tech gets stolen so Batman travels to Metropolis and meets Superman, and despite neither trusting or even liking the other, they manage to stop Luthor's evil plot, and it would of course have a scene where Superman x rays Batman's mask and sees he's Bruce Wayne, but Bruce would hit him back by sending Clark Kent a pair of glasses with a note that says "These will help with facial recognition software." after he left.

Then season 4 starts with showing Bruce actually going to therapy, and who's his therapist? Why none other than his old friend from med school Harleen Quinzel. This is the season where we see a softer Batman, one who understand some criminals are as much victims as villains, and really steps up as Bruce Wayne, putting his money towards preventing crime rather than punching it, but not to worry there's still plenty of punching, namely against foes of Bruce and Batman alike, such as Hush, Ra's Al Ghul, and the court of owls. Also in season 4 and episode where Robin wants to hang out with other teen superheroes like Kid Flash, Speedy, Aqualad and Wonder Girl, though with Batman helicoptering to make sure they didn't get into too much trouble. This teenage outing inspires Batman to contact other heroes and form thr Justice League. We'd also introduce Batgirl in there somewhere, where after saw some goons break into a warehouse on Halloween, she put on a Batman costume to try and scare them, but the goons saw through the ruse and started shooting, and then the real Batman shows up and tell Barbara to leave it to him, but she couldn't, and using the skills she had learned from her Father, Jim Gordon, she tracked down the thieves, who had been working for Firefly, and helped the Batman take the villain down, but not before escaping a burning building. Commissioner Gordon approached the two of them, but because of the costume and soot that coated her, couldn't recognize Barbara, when asked Batman said she was part if his team. She and Dick would of course be rivals at first, but after time would become friends, and maybe something more..

Season 5, Dick leaves to become a full time Titan, though it's not because he and Bruce have a big fight, more like he feels like it's time to spread his wings and get out from Batman's shadow. Batman would also meet Jason Todd as he's stealing tires, and after taking him in would ask Dick for advise and eventually his blessing to make Jason the new Robin, Dick would agree saying he was working on a new identity anyway, because it's hard being Robin without Batman. Jason would prove more of a handful than Dick was, angrier, more rebellious.

Season 6, The Joker captures Robin and Batgirl, and after beating Robin to death with a crowbar, shoots Batgirl and leaves her to die next to Robin's body. Batman finds them and goes on a rampage, leaving criminals bloodied and more broken than he ever had in his early years, but none of it mattered in his hunt for The Joker, all the while he's questioning himself, if all the work he's done, both as Batman and Bruce, mattered if monsters like Joker existed, and when Batman finally finds The Joker, he beats him to an inch of his life, and almost finishes the job, but Gordon talks him down. And there's a beautiful funeral scene with other heroes there, but after, we see minions of Talia Al Ghul digging up the grave, and it's revealed that the whole thing was orchestrated by Ra's to try and push Bruce over the edge to get him to his way of thinking, something Ra's and Talia didn't see eye to eye on. And we also get to see Joker, in a full body cast, in Arkham, where doctors are discussing what to do with him, and they decide to call the best psychiatrist in Gotham, Harleen Quinzel.

Season 7, Bane breaks Batman's back and puts him in a coma, in Batman's absence crime goes rampant, and Nightwing comes back to Gotham to take up the mantle of Batman and with Barbara/Oracle's help, take down Bane, but they're not the only ones, Tim Drake and Stephanie Brown both try to be Robin but after a lengthy debate decide Tim can be Robin and Stephanie can be Batgirl, Kate Kane, Bruce's cousin becomes Batwoman, Luke Fox, son of Bruce Wayne's tech developer Lucius Fox, becomes Batwing, and even Azrael shows up. Dick, of course, tries to tell the others to leave Bane to him, but even dressed like Batman Dick isn't a convincing Batman, so he takes what he's learned, both from working alongside Batman and from leading the Titans, and leads newly assembled Bat Family to bring Bane down and restore order to Gotham. At which point Bruce wakes up and Dick leaves joking that "they're you're problem now." And at the end we get a little glimpse of the next Big Bad, Red Hood/Jason Todd.

Season 8, After the defeat of Bane by the Bat Family left a power vacuum in Gotham's criminal underworld, Red Hood and his gang of Outlaws take over the streets, leaving death in their wake, but the Bat Family is having trouble dealing with them because somehow the Outlaws know exactly what the Bat Family is going to do, and then it's revealed that Red Hood was Jason Todd and he's mad at Bruce, and it's very emotional, but when Jason puts a gun to Bruce's head, Bruce says he's sorry and accepts his fate, but when Jason can't pull the trigger Talia Al Ghul steps out from the shadows and reveals how she was the mastermind behind the whole thing, how she brought Jason back to life and brainwashed him into being the Red Hood, then uses a sleeper agent code phrase on Jason to make him kill Bruce, but Bruce manages to beat Jason. Talia escapes and Bruce takes Jason back to the cave to try and un brainwash him. Meanwhile Talia crawls back to her father and agrees to his plan, whatever it may be.

Season 9 Joker's back and has Harley Quinn with him, and in a moment alone woth Batman, Harley reveals how she knows Bruce is Batman, but she won't tell because "Mistah J ain't interested in the man under the bat," but it ends with Harley betraying the Joker because she realizes he doesn't love her. Afterwards we get to see Harley being put in a cell in Arkham next to Poison Ivy.

Season 10/Final Season. Ra's Al Ghul declares war on Gotham and exposes Bruce as Batman, but with the help of his family, including Jason who's no longer brainwashed and in his spare time built The Batmobile, and the help of various villains, including Catwoman who says if they survive this they should run away together, they manage to stop Ra's' plan to destroy Gotham, but not before Bruce gets stabbed in the side by a young boy who escapes with Talia as Ra's lays dying. And as the sun begins to rise, all of the Bat Family gathered wonder what happens next, now that they're secret identities have been revealed, but a voice from behind tells them not to worry, as the previously invisible figure presses a button on his wrist a wave of energy pulses over Gotham. The figure says he used some of the Mad Hatter's tech to erase the memories of the Bat Family's secret identities from everyone's mind who didn't know before. Then the figure briefly mentions he's Batman from the future and that they shouldn't worry about Damien, "after all, it's hard being evil when you're the son of Batman." which surprises everyone, "you did know he was your son, right? Uh...gotta go!" Then he disappears. Then we see them all returning to Wayne manor, Alfred sweeping up glass from a broken window, and says "Ah, I see we've survived another night, shall I get the celebratory champagne?" Jason nonchalantly replies "We met a Batman from the Future and Bruce has a son." Alfred processes the information and says "The good whiskey, then." Then as Bruce is getting his stab wound stitched he says he thinks it's time he retired as Batman, the others protest, but Bruce continues to say its just for now, how after everything that's happened he trusts his team, his family, to keep Gotham safe in his absence. Then we see later, at night as Commissioner Gordon stands next to the batsignal on the roof of the gcpd, about to light his pipe Dick, dressed as Batman says "those thing's'll kill ya, ya know." Then the two of them talk about how Batman had retired, for now, and left Gotham in Dick's hand, and Gordon contemplates retirement, and wonders what would happen to the city without him, what would happen to Barbara, to which Dick replies "I wouldn't worry about Barbara, she's made of some pretty tough stuff." Gordon agrees, but when he turns around to ask how Nightwing knows his daughter, Dick's gone and Gordon says to himself "I guess some things never change."

[thisiswhereikeepdcthings]

Bruce: Diana, you are my favorite co-parent.

Diana: Thank you.

Bruce: Ra’s, get out.

Bruce: *looks at Clark, Dinah, Talia, Lois, Barry, and Iris*

Bruce: You can stay, I guess.

Talia: There is no getting rid of me, beloved.

Bruce: I am aware.

Bruce: *looks at Oliver, Hal, And John Constantine*

Bruce: I have done nothing to deserve this.

Oliver: Hey now, I distinctly remember in eighth grade you were a little-

Bruce: MOVING on.

Bruce: *looks at Slade, Pamela Isley, Edward Nygma, Lady Shiva, and Lex Luthor*

Bruce: Okay, so I have some concerns…

Captain Marvel: *raises his hand*

Bruce: Yes?

Captain Marvel: I think I’m in the wrong meeting.

Bruce: You are excused.

[uncouth-the-fifth]

imagine damian and the reader at the wayne gala. he gets jealous when he sees her flirting with someone else. he ends up pulling her into a bathroom and fucking her in front of a mirror while saying that other person can’t treat her like he does

and that’s how the reader finds out damian has feelings for her. all this time he acted like he hates her because he’s in denial

Title: More Than They Ever Said

Paring: Robin!Damian (18+) / Canary!Reader

Tags/Warnings: semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, bathroom sex, slight underage drinking (reader is like 20 lol), mentions of golf.

Word Count: 7150

Notes: sooooo.... this def evolved beyond a drabble lol. the way gala sex kills me every time 😭 I was a little mushy w Dami here bc I miss his sweet side. This also sounded a lot like goldenspecs12's request from Wattpad, so I hope you don't mind that I meshed the two together 😚 I leaned toward Damian liking the reader more than being in denial, but that’s the only thing I sacrificed between the two requests. This one is my fluffiest and most romantic yet 💖

"can I request Damian w a Queen reader, like she's Oliver and Dinah's child? say the reader is a hero but not very active, like she comes in when her parents can't. so when she and Damian meet, they hit it off. The main request is that they sneak away at a gala held by Oliver and the reader and Damian have sex."

Ask to be added to my taglist for future posts!

The party was more fun than you thought it would be.

Benefits were usually chalk-full of old, wealthy people that thought they made good conversationalists. The board members of Queen Industries were tired of Oliver trying to escape their claws, so you’d been recruited in his place. While your dad got to play minigolf in the penthouse’s massive party floor, you were confined to the lounge, playing up what an intelligent, capable business partner you’d be when you were CEO. Fellow businessmen gruffed about their plans with you while their wives cooed and drank, pinching your cheeks.

You thought that you’d hate it, but the attention and the praise was nice. It made you feel like you were helping your dad and your family’s company, which was constantly criticized and judged for it’s choice in CEO. Everyone called your father a lazy silver-spooned idiot, but he was one of the only men in Star City who actually cared. By the time you had Q.I’s biggest donors laughing out of their seats, Dinah’s hands slipped over your shoulders and you were kissed on the side of the face. Thank you, she mouthed, and your position as family support-beam was covered.

Since most of the benefit-goers were at least forty years your senior, you gravitated to your dad. From the penthouse’s upper balcony, you could see his friends circling around the tiny green mats they were using as a makeshift golf course. Usually, Ollie made sure his public persona’s aim was as garbage as his taste in drink was. But tonight, he played as Green Arrow, who never missed. Not once. Especially when it came to Bruce Wayne, who’s golf game was abysmal at best.

But like Oliver, Bruce was a new man tonight. It looked like he was ready to break out the batarangs any minute now. The two men were barely civil about the viciousness of their competition, and if the view of the game from the balcony was interesting, then from below it must’ve been the greatest show of fragile masculinity ever displayed. You had to make fun of them.

The only opening in the circle of men, who all had their hands on their chins as Bruce lined up his next shot, was by the floor-to-ceiling windows to one side of the game. Just one man stood there, hands in his pockets. You slid next to him, unbothered, and squinted at the game.

Everyone in the crowd was dead silent. Bruce was lining up his golf ball so it would roll into a mug a couple of feet away, so you helpfully provided, “A little to the left, Mr. Wayne.”

Your words overlapped with someone else’s. Where you had said Mr. Wayne, they had said Father. Then the man next to you was his son, but...

You would have never guessed it would be him.

Reasonably, you knew that Robin was Damian Wayne. Oliver could be a little loose-lipped at times, and by his judgment you’d been a teenager just a year ago - what could a twenty year old do to Batman’s secret identity? Not much.

Until you saw Robin without his mask.

Damian was achingly beautiful. He was your age, but he stood and talked like he was much older. There was an angle to his shoulder that made him seem astute and sexy. His eyes fixed on you when you spoke at the same time, and they were a surprising mossy color that jumped out against his tan skin, like plants flourishing out of rich soil. There was just enough blue in them to make him seem haunting. Any moment, you felt like he was going to corner you and whisper your future throatily in your ear.

Looking into them, those piercing eyes, for longer than a second made you want to blurt, “You’re much prettier without your mask.”

But that would expose his secret to every golf-loving idiot in earshot, so Oliver had been wrong. A twenty-year-old like you could do fatal damage to Batman’s secret identity, but for Damian, the short-tempered, snappish leader of the Teen Titans, you would risk anything.

Damian stared, and you stared. He squinted, wet his lips, then turned back to the game. This was your only acknowledgment that he recognised you. His voice was deeper, smoother, than you remember it. “Queen.”

You shifted in your shoes, almost laughing in shock. “...Wayne.”

The game grew boring and Damian didn’t say anything else, so you said nothing too, sneaking glances at him. The last time you’d spoken to Robin had been in costume, when he’d thanked you for assisting with a mission. He’d really been thanking you for standing up for him. You didn’t team up often with the Titans, but when you did, you found that they were unusually snappy and mean with their leader. Not necessary on purpose, but you could tell that Damian couldn’t take as many bites as he pretended to. Standing up for him had been a simple thing. The good thing to do. Now, with that look in his eyes, it almost felt like he still thought about it.

He must have, because the kiss you shared at the end of that mission had glowed with heat. To be fair, you both may have believed you were going to die (before the team pulled through and saved you), so it could’ve been a heat-of-the-moment thing. But this was Robin - if he didn't want to kiss you, he wouldn't. And yet he did.

You’d kissed. And the energy of that kiss lingered between you now, drawing you closer together, putting tiny smiles on your faces. He was cute. Cuter without that mask on.

You stood in the stupid golf silence, feeling foolish. Flirting with boys was much easier in fishnets. It didn’t help how fine Damian’s profile was. He had soft, feathery lashes that occasionally touched down on beauty marked cheeks. His lips were even fuller from the side, forever drawn in a curious line. And those eyes, when they caught yours and danced away again, were much too nice to hide behind a mask. You couldn’t get that thought out of your mind.

When Bruce finally made his move, you leaned in to whisper something to each other at the same time, accidentally knocking shoulders.

“I - apologies,” Damian flushed.

“Oh, um, my bad,” you rubbed awkwardly at the spot where you’d collided. “...You were going to say something?”

Damian’s eyes flicked to your fathers, then to you, unimpressed. He lowered his voice so only you could hear. “They’re awfully hypocritical, don’t you think? Father snaps at me everytime I use my skills in public, and yet he’s putting with perfect aim like it’s not the very same.”

Chuckling, you rolled your eyes and scooted closer, ducking your voice into the bubble between your bodies. “My dad’s the same way. Don’t aim in the house, he says, unless it’s him trying to beat Bruce Wayne.”

Your company’s shoulders turned sideways, leaning into you. His breath ghosted the hair on your neck, standing it on end, and again that silky voice sent tingles down your spine. Damian must change his voice as Robin, because he never spoke like this then. So huskily, so low.

He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

You watched him. He watched you. You ran your tongue over your teeth, and Damian subtly adjusted his slacks from his pockets.

At the same time, you asked each other, “Would you like to get a drink?”

_

Your hiding place was a loveseat in the lounge, between more businessmen and their ditzy heirs. The bartender was your family’s, so he smiled and turned down your request for a drink, courtesy of your dad’s strictness. Luckily, he didn’t recognise Damian. You watched him order it at the bar, his rings catching the light, the muscle in his arms peeking out from under his blazer.

“I think he suspected I wasn’t of age, so he only gave me one.” He took the place next to you, propping his ankle on one knee and lounging out like a panther. Damian offered the cocktail to you, once he’d decided the coast was clear. It was a cute gesture. “Is that acceptable?”

You fished a five dollar bill out of your purse. “Only if you take this for paying. Don’t think I didn’t see you try and sneakily get that past me.”

Damian scrutinized the bill, then you, somehow managing to be a smartass without opening his mouth. Instead of thinking about how nice it would feel to kiss the slight crease between his brows, you traded hands with him so the bill was in his and the drink was in yours. The gentle brush of you palm to his knuckles put way too many butterflies in your belly.

You talked about everything and anything. About home, family life, your cities. The best of it was when Damian dipped his head so only you could hear him, keeping your secrets close and your bodies closer. This was the only way he talked about Robin, so you circled back to any vigilante subject you could think of just so Damian would keep purring into your ear like that. Better yet, he was smart. Talking to him was engaging, and within minutes he'd entranced you, so you sat there talking for more than an hour. Around you, the party rotated and went on.

At one point, you took a drink of the cocktail and passed it to him to share. Damian placed his lips right where yours had been, licking up the cocktail salt and gulping it down slow, adam’s apple bobbing, like it wasn’t the taste of the vodka he was savoring.

Eventually, your bliss was broken. Damian was called over to his father, again, to discuss business, and he left you with your remaining cocktail and the memory of that mission. You couldn’t find a reason to move from your seat. When you’d realized that you and Robin had been led into a trap on that mission, it’d been too late, and your efforts to escape became more and more futile. All you could do was pray the Titans got to you on time. Robin had offered you his glove as the walls closed in, and you’d watched up-close as he assumed you were both about to die. The fear in his eyes was strange - like it was familiar to him. At the same time, you cupped his neck and he held your upper back, and you’d kissed fervently, sweetly.

Damian had put his forehead to yours, and promised even as the trap shrunk around you, “You were excellent. More excellent than they ever said.”

In the big picture, it was a strange last remark to make, and afterwards you’d been too happy about surviving to think about it. But in the moment, you understood. You were understood. Somehow, Damian had reached into your soul and gouged out the words you’d been dying to hear, from your parents, from anyone, and uttered them to you with burning conviction. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe he meant it. Damian found you excellent. Someone, somewhere, didn’t think you were a failure.

Odd, how you’d never seen the face of the man you thought you’d die with (until now), and yet he saw you so easily. You watched him follow his father into the party crowd now, wondering. The Titans had saved you before you could ask what he’d meant. More importantly, before you could tell him the same. He was excellent.

_

Once you’d finished off your drink, you left it at the bar and grinned evilly at your family bartender. He rolled his eyes and slyly delivered you another, which, on your superhero schedule, would not have you drunk yet. Another heir to some big company was seated at your right, ignored by his father enough to look for some small talk with you.

He was one of the cute, nerdy types that were usually in awe of you. Girls, available girls, were typically rare at these kinds of parties, so he took you not having a boyfriend as permission to flirt with you. Unfortunately for him, your seat gave a perfect angle on Damian across the party floor. He was impressing the wives of Wayne business partners, who flocked around him like they’d flocked around you, pinching his cheeks. You could almost read their lips enough to guess what they were saying. What a handsome young man you are! Oh, Bruce must be so proud.

“...and then my father flipped over his kayak! Would you believe it? Two thousand dollars, thrown right in our family’s lake.” Your company snickered, howling at his own story.

You circled the rim of your glass, watching how Damian tried to teach some of the women phrases in Arabic. Unknown to them, they were some pretty funny swear words. It threw you into a bout of giggles, and the man next to you kept talking, spurred on by the noise.

The flock of hens around Damian receded, and his shoulders slouched in relief. That was cute, too. It wasn’t often that people understood how draining these parties were, but for people like you and Damian, it was a racetrack of endless, boring circles. Everything was a formality. Few things were genuine. Damian turned, and you caught his eye to let him know you were going to meet him. He nodded toward a side hall, his mouth a curious line again. If you looked at it long enough, it felt like a smile when he mouthed, escape?

Your company was still talking. He stopped when you grabbed his tie and planted a pity-kiss on his cheek, waving to him as you bounced away. “Sorry, kid. Not my type.”

_

You planned to bring Damian to the secluded balcony on the second floor to unwind, but instead, you were taken by the wrist and maneuvered into an empty powder room. It was colder than the steaming party air and smelled like champagne, with couches to sit on and mirrors to powder at. For a bathroom, the lights were warm and low. The noise of the party went quiet the instant the door was shut, like you and Damian had entered your own little world. No more circles. No more back and forth.

“Here,” Damian said, noting the mirrors. He tilted his head as he asked, like he was nervous, “Is this acceptable?”

“It is the ladies powder room, but I’ll give you a pass, since you’re cute.” You joked. Damian didn’t make a move to relax on one of the couches yet, hanging in front of you like there was more he wanted to say. There was more you wanted to say, too, but no good words came to mind.

But the silence wasn’t awkward. Again, Damian stared, and you stared. The glass he brought with him was set down. He put one fist on the counter beside the door, and like honey had been poured on your nerves, you realized how easy it would be for him to push you up against it. Kiss you senseless. Heat drooled off of him this close, and you wondered if he’d still lean in to whisper to you even if you were alone.

The lack of words drew to a point where something had to be said, anything, but his eyes felt so good on your skin and it was interesting to see him nervous. Something strange told you that Damian liked the silence, too.

You wet your lips with your tongue. Damian cleared his throat, and took a sip from his glass. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Between me and that guy?” You smiled gently, like you were reassuring him, and laughed to yourself. “Oh, man, you should’ve seen it, Damian. Poor kid really thought I was flirting with him. He’d totally convinced himself, it was hilarious.”

His profile was tense in the mirror, which you stole glances at to watch how the amber light played on his handsome skin. When Damian swallowed his drink, his throat rolled in the sexiest way, and immediately your mind fed you with visions of suckling, kissing, tonguing his neck.

“Why’d you ask?” Your eyes sparkled. Damian drew a step closer, and you used the opportunity to swipe a drop of alcohol from the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You jealous?”

It was the touch or the suggestion that made Damian pause. He didn’t stutter, but lagged over what to say, eyes vast and wanting as they raked over your face. “I don’t get jealous,” he clarified, “but… I do intend to be the only man to kiss you tonight.”

Damian’s hand took your chin. Your belly exploded with instant arousal, hitting you like a bullet of liquid lust. “You’re the only man who’s kissed me like that,” you whispered, taking his tie in hand. “I hope that’s always true.”

His voice had gone throaty. “May I kiss you again?”

Again, he reminded you.The two of you had kissed before, and it had been spectacular, terrifying, and excellent.

“Please,” you said, and Damian rushed to your aid.

Not a moment more was wasted. Curling his tie into your fist, you drew him in, slow and deep and wonderfully. Damian’s cologne hit you before his lips did, and both made your core throb for friction. Two broad hands slammed your hips into the door. His fingertips smoothed up the fabric of your dress, pressing you back and squeezing you in until you could feel his belt buckle against your belly. Damian was a sweet, magnetic kisser, chasing your lips like he was on a crusade to save them. Each time they met, he swam deeper. The point of his nose bumped against your cheek. You hummed your laugh against his lips, and Damian groaned as he pulled away, readjusting, twisting, testing the limits of the kiss. And you followed him at every step or more, revelling in his taste.

You didn’t want him to think you wanted the kiss to end, so you drew the hands braced under his blazer around his neck. Soon, that didn’t feel close enough, so you cupped each side of his face and pecked Damian until you were breathless. He brought you in until your arms were flat to his chest, the kiss almost vertical in its intensity.

He groaned when you parted, gasping and blinking just inches from your face. Your mouths were still connected by a thick string of drool, which hung until it split and clung to Damian’s chin and fell, marking a wet strip down into his collar. You panted, watching it go.

Damian left your waist to hold your wrists, keeping your hands around his face. He settled warmly into your touch, basking in it, and the pure enjoyment on his face made you smile. You wondered if anyone else had cared for him like this. If Damian had ever felt someone hold his face and treasure it. The thought gave you a strange urge, so you followed it.

You brought Damian’s brow level with your mouth and sweetly kissed his forehead. Then his nose bridge, then his temples. His face was so quickly warm that you giggled. In the most unsubtle way possible, Damian drew back his hips so you couldn’t feel the heat there, and closed his eyes, begging you to continue.

“I want you,” you whispered against his jaw.

Damian shivered. “You have me.”

You shifted one hand to his shoulder, giving yourself more room to nuzzle and kiss his neck. The line of drool was still there, so you cupped his skin and tilted his jaw up, and in one stroke, licked all the way to his earlobe. Damian’s moan poured from his mouth like a growing flood. You even felt his thighs press together between you, and pleasure tingled in your throat when he choked at the glide of your tongue.

He released your wrists, reached beside you, and locked the door with an audible click.

Then, Damian devoured you. Both hands hooked around your back, arching your chest into his, and finally, bringing his bulge between your hips. You clung to him for dear life, helpless as his teeth pressed into your neck like a vampire. Damian fed like one, too, suckling the skin there like he was starved. Your panties were so wet that you were desperate to get out of them, grinding your core against his.

Damian retreated, gasping. He licked the spit off of his lips and glared into your eyes. Bluntly, he said, “I want to eat you out.”

Once more, you kissed him, delirious with excitement. Your lungs burned for air, but your core burned harder for him. “Take off that suit and you can do whatever you want to me.”

His eyes gleamed. “I plan to.”

Quickly, you shoved your hands into his sleeves and pushed them off his shoulders, giving you a crisp glimpse at his carved shoulders. Damian's fingers blurred from button to button, but he saved the last for you on purpose. You worked in tandem and with little thought. If he could, Damian would steal a kiss, and you would bite his lip and chase him into more. When that last button was popped, his white button-down parted for a gorgeous plane of hard-earned muscle. His abs, ribs and pecs were pockmarked with scars, shrapnel marks and in some places, bullet holes. You stopped.

At your staring, Damian pressed his lips together.

“It's.. not appealing, I know,” he monotoned.

“No,” you disagreed, palming his stomach, “it’s impressive. All these do is show how strong you are, how long you've survived. You're so… built...” you didn't hide your thorough examination of him, “...I mean, we have to be to do what we do, but still… It suits you. It's sexy.”

You worried you'd ruined the moment with your babbling, but he glimmered under your praise. Damian brightened in the way only Damian could, smirking devilishly and towering over you like a supervillain.

“Sexy?” He pressed his naked chest into yours, whispering hotly in your ear. You could feel his silk tie pinned between you. “Does that mean I'm your type?”

You rolled your eyes. “Eavesdropper.”

“Temptress,” Damian replied, just as easily.

To claim your title, you found Damian's belt and pulled on it until the clasp gave. It made a satisfying whipping noise as you ripped it off of him, shouldered into his space to grab his waist in one hand, and cupped his throbbing boxers in the other. Damian's sigh came hoarsely and wanton from his mouth.

“Fuck me,” you demanded, grinning with delight.

Instead of wasting time on a response, Damian fell to his knees, a faithful worshipper. He did the gentlemanly thing and helped you kick off your heels. The tile was icy on your bare feet, but it only mattered until Damian ran his hands up your thighs. Sliding his fingers underneath the fabric, he bunched it up your middle, peering up at you smugly through his lashes. You could feel the debauchery of it - Damian, on his knees, tie hanging still from his neck, pinning you to the door. You, your legs spread and wanting.

Damian sucked in a breath. Your panties had an obvious wet patch, put there by him. He thumbed it carefully, watching your brows tense and your eyes close, basking in your initial whine. All of it enchanted him. You were soaking because of him, trembling because of him, marked because of him. There was not one place he would rather be than here.

Damian collected your sweetness and sampled the taste on his thumb, trapping it behind his smug smile. He ran his tongue over his teeth, spreading the flavor around his mouth, savoring it. As Damian rolled your underwear down your legs, his cock twitched in his open fly. You were beautiful. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Put your leg over my shoulder,” Damian ordered, smirking, “I want to taste you.”

Warmth exploded in your cheeks. “G-go ahead.”

Gradually, you situated your leg across his back, pussy tensing at the touch of the cooler air. This didn't matter for long. Damian's warm lips nuzzled and kissed the thigh closest to him, painting messy reflective circles on your skin with his kiss. Even that made your legs tense wildly, so Damian shoving his wet, blazing tongue into the folds of you cunt pumped moan after moan from your mouth.

“Damian!” You yelped.

Oh, he definitely liked that. Damian pinched your ass and used his mouth so passionately that his head shook back and forth. He darted right for your clit, sucking it until his cheeks were hollow and humming smugly between your legs with every squeal. Parting your folds with one hand, Damian kissed your core just as dirtily as he'd kissed you. The dangerous glint in his eye never faded. He plunges his tongue inside you in earnest, slurping obscenely, purposefully. There's no need for Damian to shoot you cute looks or put on a show - his skill was the performance, because that skill was unbeatable. Your pussy was already tender, fucked nerveless by Damian's filthy mouth. He vibrated your cunt with a deep groan before he drew away, face dripping with slick like a pornstar’s.

“You're suitably wet,” he said, matter-of-factly, “would you like me to use my fingers?”

All the strength you had went into a weak, pleading nod.

Damian was polite enough to grant you your bearings first, letting you grip his hair and squeeze the counter before he resumes. You give him the sweetest, most precious whine when Damian licks you open again. He wisely starts with one finger and builds from there, earning you with pumps and curls of his digits. Damian's talents quickly become a currency, one that you exchange with mewls and pants of praise.

“So good,” you whine, “oh, fuck - fuck, just like that…”

Damian smirks between your legs, jamming his fingers faster into your sore pussy. Lust sizzles low in your gut, ramped up again and again by his thrusting. It’s so powerful that you roll and buck off the door, your hips in his face. You want him - want him more than you want anything.

“You're ravaging,” Damian hums between licks. His eyes are closed, but that only gives the way he touches you more meaning.

It’s so surprising from his mouth that your hold on his hair slips, setting Damian free. He pants, catching his breath, and it’s easily the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The effort has slouched him from his knees to his calves, further spreading his legs and opening up the fly of his pants. A solid bulge has formed and spilled out there, straining to escape his briefs like an arm in a sling that’s too small, way too small, for someone of his size. Three of Damian’s fingers are still twisting inside of you.

Slowly, Damian tipped back his head and hung down, arranging himself beneath your cunt. “So beautiful.” His free hand splayed where your leg met your hip. “May I touch you?”

“I-I get it’s the gentleman thing to do, to - to keep asking, but fuck, Damian,” you cursed, “you can do whatever you want to me.”

Damian’s intense jade eyes were so dilated that you could barely make out the color. He dragged his cheek against your thigh, fingers still circling inside you, and grinned like a shark. It was probably a bad idea to give the heir to the Demon’s Head that much power over you.

His other hand squeezed your skin, slow to passionate, from your belly to your breasts beneath your dress. It’s clear by the way Damian looks at you that he loves what he sees. The texture of his veiny, calloused hands feels good on your waist and ass, dragging you closer to him. He chuckles when your back arches, when your nails press into his hands, his back muscles, throwing himself into his task. Damian’s nose prods your folds as he licks you clean, tongue dipping and sliding against your sore clit. It’s like he’s done this for you before, in this exact way. Though he utilizes his tongue the most, his lips too are brutal, matched perfectly to fit your pussy lips.

But that tongue - how Damian’s jaw isn’t tired, you don’t know. He parts your folds and latches onto your clit, flicking his tongue at superspeed until drool and cum bubbles from your sensitive core. Your back winds tighter at every vibrating lick, paralyzing the muscles in your legs with glorious pleasure. It’s so exquisite you start to melt to the floor like warm clay, only to be bolstered back up by Damian, both hands viciously squeezing your ass. He keeps going not for you, but himself, sucking down every last drop of your juices.

Shattered, you twist hopelessly into his mouth, chasing the strained feeling like it’s the last you’ll ever glimpse. “Fuck, fuck - D-Damian, ah…”

“Did it feel good when I made you cum?” He teases, “It certainly tastes good. All those filthy little noises you make for me…” Damian shakes his head at himself, like it’s too fantastic to indulge again. He leaves your clit with a satisfied kiss. “Beautiful.”

Once more, the words are surprising to hear from him. You always considered Damian the prude type, but here he is, on his knees for you, mouth and chin glittering with your juices while he teases you in low, sexy tones. At your surprised look, Damian has the gall to blush.

With his ring finger in his mouth, he ponders, “If a man has never said that to you before...” pop, “consider me surprised.”

“Never while finger-fucking me, at least,” you admited, legs still trembelling. “It was sweet. You… you meant that?”

It was hard to imagine Damian Wayne finding anything beautiful. Even you, who was pretty enamored with him, figured he would judge by quality or skill, not beauty. The words tasted new on his tongue.

Slowly, Damian stood and stretched, his shoulders tight after staying in the strange position for so long. Lifting his arms coincidentally let his waistband sit lower on his hips, flashing his green boxers your way while showing off the huge, carved muscles of his arms. Truly, Damian’s subtlety was unmatched. You didn’t mind his miniature bragging fest - not when he had so much to brag about. Eating you out had put an excited shimmer in his skin, so the gold-toned lights of the room reflected sexily off his sweat, already accenting his kissable tan.

“I did,” he told you, moving on to his sucking middle finger. His other hand played on your thigh, stroking it. “I’ve always been… drawn to you. Every mission we’ve had together. I have a profound feeling that we are very similar.”

You laughed. Not at what he said, but the timing of it. “Would you believe me if I said I felt the same way?”

Damian made a face like his heart was doing jumping jacks. “A few hours ago? No. But now…” he barricaded you against the door, first with his hands and then his hips, closed in so tightly that you had to look past your nose to meet his eyes. “Your crush is adorably obvious. I’m annoyed that I didn’t see it before.”

Your rounded your hands against Damian’s shoulders, then his tie. It twisted nicely around your fingers, silky and cold in comparison to your flushed skin. You were tempted to fix your dress, but nothing, not even the world ending, could make you leave this room.

“My crush is obvious? Damian, all you’ve done for the last two hours is sneak me drinks and imply how much easier it is to be around me.” You grinned, “What’d you say earlier? There you are, Queen. Finally, someone intelligent enough to speak to me.”

Damian shrugged. “It’s true. Your knowledge of bioluminescent ocean life is fascinating.”

“I can’t believe you said that after giving me head for ten minutes.”

“It’s actually been closer to twelve,” Damian smirked.

Playfully, you pinched Damian’s cheek, then pulled him by the tie into a starved, energetic kiss. He must’ve been praying for your permission to continue, because the plan he’d been forming is quickly put into action. You’re hugged, arms scooped under your back as you kiss him. Damian surrenders his mouth to a bit of revenge tonguing while undoing your dress. No amount of kissing will pull him from his task, but your hand is a special case - it smooths down the front of his boxers and Damian melts.

“Y/N,” he groans.

Damian petulantly resists the temptation to close his eyes, but your touch is soft and sweet, demanding him to yield. Your lips suckle on his neck and Damian’s knees buckle. If getting his mouth between your legs didn’t turn him on, then this will finish him for sure.

“I missed you. Kissing you.” You purr into his throat. “One could never be enough for me.”

Is this what it’s like to be wanted? Damian asked himself. The only possible answer thrilled him, and he found himself pouring even more passion into the kiss, into you, wanting to share that rush of affection. You respond to his every touch with vigor. Damian’s heart stalls each time your thumb strokes his face, each time the other strokes him through his slacks.

“Me either,” he rasped, and helped you out of your dress. His tone was shy, but his words held too much depth to be meaningless. I want a wealth of them. I always want to kiss you, was what he wanted to say, but Damian was too embarrassed to raise the words. This moment was too special to ruin with his hopeless romanticism. He kissed you again and again, and to his amazement, you kissed him right back.

“Fuck me,” you begged him between breaths. “Right here. I don’t care if we’re caught.”

I don’t care if we’re seen together. I want to be seen with you, I’m not ashamed of you.

Damian cupped your face and almost knocked you both over with the strength of his kiss. Nose-to-nose, eyes closed, he commanded, “Bend over the fucking counter.”

In a blink, Damian turned and there you were, open and waiting for him. The sink was hip-level, so the bend was nothing but perfect - Damian could fuck you from behind and watch your lust-blown reflection without issue. Your perfect pussy drooled leftover cum down your legs, making your sex shine in the light.

In the mirror, you watched Damian’s eyes darken in delight. His pupils followed the line of your ass to your back, appreciating it like an artist would, like he intended to paint you later and needed to memorize the greatest shapes of your figure. The marble was icy against your hard nipples, which Damian had exposed when he’d impatiently shoved down your bra. Now, he cupped one of your breasts as he bent over you, kissing and suckling his way down your back.

“Perfect,” Damian hissed.

Shyly pressing your butt back against him, you buried your face in your arms and bit your lip, waiting for him to open you up. Damian’s shadow came to hover over you, and in the mirror his eyes were vicious, pools of circling sharks. “Are you ready?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Take your time.”

Though you weren’t being sarcastic, Damian took it that way and pinched one cheek of your ass. “With you? I will.” Then, with the same smoothness, Damian asked, “Condom?”

“Pill,” you replied, and Damian nodded his approval.

His pants rustled as they fell down his legs. Where you couldn’t see, Damian committed the sight to memory - his cock in hand, your pussy spread open, all for him. You squeaked when his hot tip touched your cooling clit, and squeaked again when it glided down your pussy and tested your opening. He knew he’d found the way when you winced.

In an unsurprising moment of compassion (for those who truly knew him), Damian kissed the top of your head and offered you his hand. “Would you like to hold it while I…?”

You took his hand and squeezed it to your chest, squeezing him closer in the process, too. “Thank you. Go slow, for this part…”

Damian complied. His sweat-sticky chest hovered warmly over your back. Even if Damian was big, you were wetter than you’d ever been in your entire life - any pain would quickly slide into pleasure. He braced himself with a deep inhale, and a hot, sharp sensation told you that he’d entered you. Where you choked in a needy gasp, Damian poured out his version of a whimper. You both held it. Then, breath by breath, you were struck with the realization that you’d been dying to feel this for weeks, for months, and only now was that heat being satisfied. Damian’s tongue and fingers had come close, but this is what would cure that aching emptiness - his big, girthy cock.

The deathgrip you had on Damian’s hand loosened. “You look perfect,” he murmured into your hair, instantly making your core flutter. “Oh,” he chuckled filthily, “you like that? Funny, how badly that idiot at the bar wanted to be in my place right now…but it’s me who gets to pound into—”

“Damian,” you warned.

He smiled smugly against your neck. “Nothing.”

Dutifully, Damian withdrew his hips, taking all of the heat with him. When he rolled back in, a hot, tingling sensation roared over all of your senses, and you let the moan at the top of that tsunami loose. It was clear that he couldn’t fuck you like he wanted to with one hand fished down at your side, so he glued both to the base of your back and started to thrust in earnest.

“So full...” You mewled, and Damian became a human pile-driver.

Your head seemed to roll off your shoulders with every crazed, rhythmic slam, so you grabbed the faucet and held on for dear life. Every slap was so loud, so powerful, that you prayed this one random bathroom in the penthouse was soundproofed. Anyone walking past would know you were getting railed out of your mind. You tried to compensate by moaning and squeaking quietly, but with force came volume. It didn’t matter how silent you were, Damian’s hips, your ass, the squelch of him inside you - each noise filled the bathroom, echoing off the tile.

The only way you could think to describe him was filling. First, there was the hot, cinching tension of his hands fused to your waist. Then there was his cock, which begged to be squeezed more and more with every pass. You responded to each throb with a mighty clench, which bent Damian over you like an animal, gasping for breath. His balls were painted with your slick. The closer you came to orgasm together, the closer Damian came to you. His hands migrated to higher on your sides, then up by your shoulders, then around you, where Damian kissed your back and rubbed your belly while he made love to you. He talked more than he moaned. Your ear was filled with sweet nothings, with vicious promises of what he would do with a whole night alone with you.

Damian’s reflection was wild with lust. He met your eyes as he fucked you, whispering how beautiful you are, how good you take his dick. His deep green eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out the brown in them anymore. The long muscles on his arms drew taut with each thrust, making his biceps bulge and pin your hips to the sink. Soon enough, a bruise would form from the pressure. One of many treasures from tonight - you would be thinking about Damian in his crisp suit for months to come, and the mess he’d become with you now even longer. Your pleasure built and built and built, like a nail struck further into the ground with a hammer. A very, very big hammer.

“M’ cumming,” Damian husked, slowing his plowing to a sloppy glide. Even his endurance was spent, and you were glad he’d spent it all on you. “Where d’ you…?”

You braced your hands on the counter, then on one of Damian’s. Together, you smoothed his digits down your stomach and between your soft, abused folds. “Inside me, please, please please—” you begged him, “fuck, a-as deep as you can go.”

As a test of your flexibility, Damian turned in and kissed you. Just as he parted your lips with his tongue, he parted your folds with his fingertips, overriding your clit as his cock throbbed inside you to the hilt. He took the invitation as a command. Damian pressed in until you could feel his abs mold to your ass, then stuttered his hips in quick, agonized dips to get himself there. With his fingers and his cock putting stars in your eyes, you finished first.

The white marble counter fizzed in your vision, until all you could see was that powerful, endless white, humming in your mind’s eye. Still, Damian wasn’t finished yet. You bumped your temple against his chin and hummed, “Cum for me, baby… fuck, a-ah!”

Your pussy’s throb raced and raced until it spilled over, pulling Damian right under the current. One clench and he was done for, so the velvety, periodic squeeze of your cunt emptied his store. You hung there, spasming in unison, until that overwhelming heat spurted in a ring around Damian’s cock and flooded out of you. Only then did his fingers stop on your clit, and you settled warmly in each other's arms and tried to remember your names and who you were.

Damian pulled out, then snuggled back in. He would’ve been nervous any other time, but he’d just put his dick inside you, so a little instinctive cuddling could be forgiven. On shaky legs, you turned around and sunk into him. You could tell by how he was eyeing the sink that he was desperate to get clean again, so with one kiss (on the cheek), you set Damian loose.

In companionable silence, Damian cleaned up and you collected the clothes abandoned on the floor. Staring at the corner where you’d just had the best sex of your life put an embarassingly pleasant warmth in your chest. Interesting, how one terrifying moment could become something as special as this. Fascinating, how you’d felt like you’d known him all your life.

“You know… I think you’re excellent, too.” You told him, finishing off the knot for his tie.

Damian dipped his head to hide his smile, but something so bright was impossible to hide.

[jasontoddisrightfuckyou]

OKAY BATFAM FANS

I GET IT. We want Good Dad!Bruce. We want the batfamily to love each other and be happy.

However, in order for them to be a happy and good family, we do NOT need to make every other parent abusive.

Here are some canon things you may not be aware of:

Janet Drake was a good mum

Tim Drake was never abused or neglected beyond "rich kid grows up in boarding schoom"

Willis Todd was a good husband and father. He never abused Catherine or Jason. He helped Catherine stay clean when he wasn't in jail.

Addiction is an illness and is not reason to vilify Catherine

However it is not a reason to make her a Saint. She was ill, but she could've - and should've - trued to put Jason first. If she couldn't care for him while getting clean, find someone to help her

[side note. the CPS aren't evil. Please stop vilifing them. It does not help minors that might see it and then be afraid to ask CPS for help when they need to]

Oliver Queen is a much better parent if we go by canon, he apologised to Roy for hitting him, he made up with his kids, frequently hugs, and tells them he loves them.

Talia is not an abusive parent. Her being abusive was retconned and was a highly racist storyline to begin with.

The League of Assassins would not be the horrible place fanon makes it out to me > my friend sunlit explains it further and better in her post here

Basically. If your qualification for Bruce being a Good Dad is that he isn't explicitly abusive, you need to raise your standards. Anyone would look better and "good" when directly compared to an abuser - especially the more Obvious & Visible Abuse.

If you need to contrast Bruce being a good parent with ABUSERS, maybe he isn't that good of a parent.

Why not make stories of the kids mirroring Bruce actions with their parents in a good way?

instead of "bruce is a good parent because he isn't abusive in this situation like my previous parents did"

maybe "bruce is a good parent because he does this Nice Loving Thing just like my parents used to"

Let people have good parents please. More than one good parent can exist in the same story.

Obviously everyone can write what they want, I'm not here to censor anyone. But consider these points and the different ways stories can be written.

and lastly, for fucks sake. The Grayson was not abusive in canon.

[sun-moon-stars-jedi]

Crack fic idea: Teenaged Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen reluctantly working together while at summer camp to foil prepubescent Lex Luthor’s evil plans - buddy cop movie style.

Okay, I know this doesn’t work perfectly with canon, but hear me out:

Bruce and Oliver are around the same age and they were both pretty smart kids, even if they might not have shown their full potential back then because Bruce was still traumatized and already coming up with his Batman plans and Ollie was a rich kid with other interests.

But, Alfred of course knew what Bruce was capable of and at least tried to get him to socialise more and Oliver’s parents wanted their son to make something of himself, so one summer when Bruce and Ollie are about 14/15 they both get signed up for some fancy science program (you know, like summer camp but more expensive and focused on learning something useful).

Bruce of course is his usual mopy teenage self, doesn’t really care about making friends and only stays at the camp because Alfred would be absolutely livid if he skipped out on it after the last time when he...doesn’t matter, Bruce knows better than to piss off Alfred so he resigns himself to a full summer of camp and being miserable surrounded by all those other teenagers.

Oliver takes better to the people aspect, he likes socialising, but working through the whole summer isn’t really his ideal vacation, so he sneaks out whenever he can and makes it very clear how little he cares for having to deal with science stuff in his free time.

As a result Bruce and Oliver obviously don’t hang out together, even if they already know each other from business meetings and galas their parents took them to in the past. No, they don’t even talk to each other until one kid in the camp starts to sow dissent and sabotage projects without ever getting caught or rousing suspicion.

Because you know who is just a few years younger than Bruce and Oliver and so interested in science that they got a scholarship to attend this camp but can’t stand for anyone else to have a better project than them?

That’s right, it’s Lex Luthor!

So I’m picturing Bruce in his usual manner observing something fishy or noticing that a highly unlikely number of projects mysteriously fail at the last second even though they seemed very promising before, so naturally his interest is piqued and he starts investigating.

Ollie on the other hand doesn’t so much put the pieces together at first but rather the girl he is trying to woo is devastated when her project doesn’t work and then he sees Bruce snooping around and in an act of chivalry he confronts Bruce because he thinks he had something to do with it.

Bruce of course refuses to tell Ollie anything at first, but when Ollie threatens to expose him in front of the whole camp he reluctantly tells him what he’s found out up to that point because if Alfred gets one more letter about him misbehaving he’ll be in so much trouble.

Cue the new dynamic duo gets on the case and while Bruce is deeply annoyed by Ollie most of the time, he is useful in talking to the other kids and maybe Bruce also enjoys not spending his days alone for once, even though he would never admit that.

Similarly, Ollie discovers that hey, using your brain can be pretty fun sometimes and even though Bruce is scowling at everyone all the time, once you get to know him he isn’t even all that bad. He swears the guy even made a joke once!

And while all this is going on twelve year old Lex Luthor is quietly fuming behind the scenes because how can it be that any of these rich, overpriviliged kids who are only here because their parents bought them in and not because they have anything in their heads keep foiling his plans to destroy the competition?

I just want hijinks and narrow escapes from the camp counselors during the night and Lex practically ripping his hair out because he can’t figure out who is stopping him at every turn.

In the end there is the obligatory big showdown at the end of summer science fair and when Lex finds out who has been foiling his plans the whole time he vows revenge but Bruce and Ollie just laugh at him, which is the reason why he hates them so much later on.

The summer is saved and even though no one else really knows what they did, Bruce and Ollie do, and just before they both get into their cars home they share a smile and maybe Bruce considers for the first time that having a partner in crime fighting might be a good idea and Ollie thinks that maybe his future can hold something more than simply following his parents footsteps and owning a company, and that is how they part, not knowing that in a few years they would meet again in the Justice League.

[flashfuture]

Okay so I have a question. Is Oliver Queen a particularly shitty dad or something? Because I've seen him in a few comics, one of them with Connor, and honestly he seemed fine. Like I know him and Roy don't have a particularly great relationship, and Ollie kinda fucked up with him, but like is this just the case with Roy?

I'm asking this because people generally ignore this thing about Bruce, who has a been a mostly shitty dad for a while now, and generally make excuses for him, citing the fact that he wasn't always like this. Most fics featuring him show him as a good parent. But fanfic authors go out of their way to show Ollie as a terrible father, and an asshole in general, especially when pitted against Bruce? Why is it this way?

PS. I haven't read many Green Arrow comics.

Okay so this is gonna get long lol

Snowbirds Don’t Fly is where Roy is on heroin and there are many many misconceptions about this particular issue

#1 this was a PSA which means certain characters have to play a role even if it seems out of character 

#2 That is the only time ever that Ollie has hit Roy. And Roy hit him back later not that this excuses it but yeah nowhere near anything like Bruce

#3 The whole kicked out of the house thing. Roy was an adult. A full-grown adult who lived on his own. Roy only got into heroin because Ollie left on a road trip thinking his kid would be fine

#4 Ollie himself is an alcoholic so say what you will but personally, I know addicts in families can get pissed when other people also get addicted to things just based on personal experience 

#5 After fucking up Ollie went out of his way to learn everything he could about addiction and recovery. He went out of his way to earn Roy’s forgiveness and then a few years later Roy agreed to reconciliation. All this happened in the 70s and by the end of it Roy and Ollie were fine and firmly in the father-son category without much lingering animosity

But then the 90s and Chuck Dixon happened. Dixon hated Ollie. He wanted to kill Ollie. So he made Ollie as unbearable as possible. For example, Ollie who loves kids, always wanted kids pushed away Connor Hawke as soon as he learned it was his real son, ran off with eco-terrorists, and blew up in a plane crash. Really dumb story

Anyways after this Roy was heartbroken he’d lost his dad. Like they were really close and people really hang on to an argument/ fuck up that happened going on 50 years ago. While conversely as you said waving away arguments that have happened consistently and recently. And Bruce started being abusive in the 80s like full-on horrible dad after Jason died. 

Then in 2001 ish Ollie is brought back to life. And he’s handed off to Judd Winick. Winick is a racist, sexist, and all-around bad writer. He’s noted for creating a black love interest for Ollie just to kill her brutally because of an argument with a Black Lightning writer. 

The other thing is Winick played Ollie like a womanizer and a cheater. Birds of. Prey also ran with this because that series had a nasty habit of bashing men. 

So basically Ollie was called a cheater for that time he was drugged and assaulted, kissed against his will by a teenager who he pushed off, and slept with a woman while he and Dinah weren’t dating. Cheating.... I can’t even explain the level of devotion to Dinah that Ollie displays. She is it for him really he isn’t even a flirt. Hal is the flirt. 

Winick also whitewashed and sidelined Connor a bunch cause screw him right. 

So that series did not shed a good light on Ollie and it’s sort of done damage to his rep when we should be ignoring it like we do with King’s work because it was that bad and ooc. 

What was valid from that series was Ollie adopting Mia Dearden after seeing she could use a hand up from where was in life. What was valid was Ollie spending all the time he could with Connor because he missed out on his son's whole life. And spending time with Roy and his granddaughter Lian. Like Ollie loves kids he loves Dinah and he loves his family. 

That’s who he is. 

New52 is another reason. So Ollie got shafted and shafted hard. 

He and Dinah weren’t dating at the start? I don’t think they were

Roy was no longer Ollie’s son but his co-worker

Connor and Mia just didn’t exist. Mia showed up for 6 issues and hasn’t since. Connor has only recently re-appeared in the Robin comic. 

Ollie and Roy didn’t get along because Ollie fired Roy for drinking on the job and that was sort of it. They weren’t father and son here so it’s a weird idea to compare them to Jason and Bruce and if you look at canon Bruce is still the worse one

But Rebirth has reset Roy to being Ollie’s son and Ollie was crushed when Roy died. Is still crushed cause i don't think he knows Roy is alive. 

Also Ollie is just like a generally good dude. He’s a genuine socialist and environmentalist. He uses his money when he’s got it to promote these things and sometimes blackmails corrupt rich people into supporting social services. 

Like you know Dick saying he wants to be Blüdhaven’s safety net? That is a page right out of the Oliver Queen playbook. 

Ollie funds most of the justice league really always has since like Zero Hour. Bruce and him probably are the two who do but it’s remarked upon multiple times that Ollie was the first (in some timelines) and main benefactor. 

I’ve noticed what you have in fanfics too and it drives me crazy. With the addition or I should say lack of Dinah and Hal. Dinah was absolutely like a mother to Roy. She’s his mama. She got him through his detox. Hal was the one who brought Roy to her. 

(Most people gloss over that Hal was like an Uncle to both Roy and Wally)

So yeah whenever I see Ollie bashing plus no mention of Dinah I know that the writer knows next to nothing about Ollie. 

Also Bruce likes to say Ollie is just as bad as him when Ollie is categorically a better person in like every way lol. 

This isn’t to say there is anything wrong with fanon-ing Bruce. But I just don’t understand why Ollie is essentially fanon-ed in the opposite direction. 

Roy will always get along with Ollie better and be safer with him than Jason would be with Bruce. But fanon wants to play off like Roy hates Ollie and is terrified of him or whatever which even in the darkest New52 pits of hell that wasn’t even true. 

I’m not sure why it’s gotten to be this way tbh. Bruce, Dick, Ollie, and Roy are the golden ages boys who got to stay young and they’ve all been slandered by writers but fans seem really only capable of ignoring when Bruce is written badly which is so odd. Like Dick gets called out for things that are so wildly ooc it astounds me that Bruce out of all people is the one people want to ignore is just sort of the worst. 

Lol yeah I got ranty. As you can tell I am very passionate about this and I just wish more people would even try to find out about Ollie before assuming things that are not true. 

Hope this helped somewhat 

[spock-smokes-weed]

I keep seeing people (especially on tumblr) saying how abusive Bruce is and how Dick is the real dad to the batkids....I mean DC definitely has writers that write him as abusive but I mean they also have written Oliver Queen as abusive in the past, several writers make Damian out to be evil, Wally West was a villain, etc.....I was wondering what your opinion on this is?

I hate hate hate it when people call Bruce abusive and make Dick out to the the only one that cares about his siblings

Because it’s just not fucking true.

Sure Bruce isn’t always the best father, but fuck man he tries! He really tries! And when Bruce is at his best he’s such a tender and loving dad. Bruce cares about all of his children and would do anything for them. Yes there are comics where Bruce is abusive, but 9/10 fans hate those books. All Star Batman and Robin is nothing but a punchline now, and Tom King’s Batman was so hated that DC cut his run short.

Also yes Dick loves his family and will be there to support them however he can, but I cannot stress enough how much Dick hates having to play parent for his siblings. It’s too much pressure and he doesn’t like. Dick also isnt infallible and has done shitty things to his family too (his temper is infamous for a reason), painting him as this perfect mother hen who so caring and open with everyone is literally missing the point behind Dick’s character. Dick is the family’s hypeman, he wants everyone to be in a good mood and likes making people laugh, he’s supportive and a good older brother, but there’s a reason why he lives in a different city. He’s his own person, he likes his independence and being able to abdicate responsibility when he doesn’t want to deal with it. Erasing all of Dick’s flaws to make him look better than Bruce is just so unnecessary and kind of gross. Dick loves and looks up to Bruce. Sure they fight and Dick likes to push Bruce’s buttons, but far too many people forget that no one is more ride or die for Batman than Dick Grayson is. 

Far too many people in this fandom make Bruce out to be this evil man who hates his kids and will search for any reason to say that he’s bad and I’m fucking sick of it!!!! Yes Bruce is difficult, and can even be cruel sometimes, but fundamentally he’s a good man. Too many of y’all forget that Batman is a hero! Yes fear is his main aesthetic, but he’s a good man who’s suffered so much pain and wants to make sure no one has to feel the same pain he felt.

The best Batman stories remember what the core of the character is, his family and his humanity, the ones that don’t care about those things aren’t worth your time.

[just-an-enby-lemon]

DC/ Smallvile AU

To say Alex Luthor - because only Lena calls him Lex and it isn’t convenient that his father put him in a all-male boarding school - wasn’t good with the whole making friends business was the understatement of the century. In all his fourteen years of life he had only successfully made two friends and one of them was his sister! Still his dad had given him a mission and he knew better than to fail Lionel. 

Fortunately his sister was just one of his very limited number of friends. And Ollie was very sociable. Honestly, it still amazes him that a popular kid like Oliver Queen chose him as a best friend. More than that the whole start of their friendship still sounded to much like a dream, someone seem the bullying and caring enough to try to stop them, but Ollie was still there all smiles and stupid jokes and bad nicknames and a ridiculous amount of crushes and it was good. 

All he needed to do was wait until lunch time and talk to Oliver and it would be okay, Ollie had to know what to do. No failing Lionel. Easy.  He still felt very unsure.

...

“Queen, what can you tell me about Thomas Wayne?”

“Really? No “hi Ollie how was your math text”? Just straight up to the dead guy.” He said, sounding more amused than anything. “Never change, Gingerbread, never change.”

“Firstly, I would prefer you referred to me as something else, not like I’m really ginger anymore, no bald jokes either, if possible. Second, I’m not talking about the deceased Thomas Wayne, though I can understand the misconception, I’m talking about Thomas Wayne Junior, you know, the one who is in the same advanced literature classes as the two of us. Thirdly, hi Ollie how was your math text anyway?” 

“It could have been worse and don’t you dare to start the whole “why you hate math if you’re good at it” discourse, it can easily be both... Now about, Junior, well, Xander, he’s... how I put that nicely... hella creepy.”

“Xander?”

“Your name is Alexander and you gave me a short time”

“Well, there was Alex.”

“Everyone calls you Alex.”

“My sister calls me Lex.”

“Can I call you Lex?”

“Better than Xander” Then he stopped. “Why are we talking about it anyway? What do you mean by hella creepy?” 

“I mean just that.  Kid is weird and like sure it’s expected that he wouldn’t be pretty well rounded after the whole "watching my parents die thing" but even then it’s too much, always talking ‘bout some creepy Gotham urban legend with owls and kings and shit and that is just the start... why do you care anyway?”

“Father asked me to befriend him, I would prefer to not disappoint.”

In the beginning of their friendship Oliver would say something about it being just a suggestion and that of course Mr. Luthor would want his kid to have friends or about how Alex didn’t need to follow his dad ever comand at this point though he knew Lionel well enough, even if Alex had never directly told him anything. 

“Shit”

“It can’t be this bad really.”

“It has to be Thomas? I mean can’t lil Bruce surface? He is a Wayne.”

“Father was very specific.”

“Of course, it has to be the heir. Well, the Waynes are a pack deal anyway... I suppose our little duo is growing, then,”

...

Bruce was confused. At first he had thought it was just paranoia, it wasn’t exactly unusual for him to feel as if he was being followed, sometimes by invisible forces others by shadows that Tommy assured him weren’t really there and even by people who were there but weren’t really following anyone. But none of his paranoia induced persecutors were that incompetent. His mind was tricky but not stupid.  The problem was why would these two (Alexander Luthor and Oliver Queen, his mind offered) follow him and Tommy around? And did they really believe they hadn’t been noticed?

Tommy had noticed them too, of course. But he just didn’t mind. Alfred had suggested that maybe the boys just wanted to make new friends, Tommy had said Alfred was stupid. If it was about this specific opinion or just overall Bruce wasn’t certain, Tommy didn’t like Alfred very much... Bruce disagreed. Alfred was the only thing the brothers really disagreed with, normally when they fought Bruce would end up realizing Tommy was right and that was it, but Bruce knew he was right on that one, Alfred was nice and smart and he really liked the old man and honestly Alfred was mostly right even more than Tommy and while Bruce would never tell Tommy that, sometimes Bruce was sure Tommy was just angry that someone else could be right. So he would test Alfred’s theory. 

“I need to know, do you really believe you’re being stealthy or you just think we are dumb?”

Okay, so maybe Bruce has underestimated his ability in being stealthy, whatever, he didn’t have all that experience in approaching people and he had been training. Sure he didn't want the two boys to flinch (one of them even jumping with fright) but on the plus side it meant his training was working and they were the ones following him to begin with, no reason to feel bad. 

“How the fuck...” the blond boy started. 

“Language, Ollie.” the other one said. 

“Sure, mom.”

“You still haven’t answered.” He said trying to sound serious but not rude and ending up in something closer to an imposition. 

“Shit, they are both creepy.” The blond one  whispered. Like he wouldn't hear anyway, What was the deal with these two? Trying to avoid another language tangent he announced himself again.

“Stupid them. As you just assumed I wouldn’t be able to hear this poorly concealed whisper.”

The whisperer (Oliver Queen, the only son of Robert and Moira Queen, heir to Queen Industries from Star City, good grades not ideal behavior, Tommy says he is in advanced history and literature and is the terror of chemistry classes, look up the possibility he fails his experiments in purposes for laughs) cheeks reddened with that, the other boy (Alexander Luthor, oldest son of Lionel and Leticia Luthor, his mom is dead, don’t think about dead mons, has an younger sister called Lena, heir to LexCorp, good grades, excelent behavior, Tommy says he’s a teacher’s pet) tried to politetly hide a laugh.

“Well, with that being answered, we go to the next fundamental question: why are you following us?”

“Would you believe it if I said we were trying to find a good moment to offer our friendship?” Oliver said. Bruce smiled, Afred was right. 

“Surprisingly, yeah.”

“Wait really?”

“Weirder things have happened.”

“That mean you accept it?” Luthor asked, a little bit too excited. “Our friendship, I mean.”

“It means, I’m open to the idea. But I think I will need more time to deliberate and I will have to talk to Tommy about it.”

“Ah, sure. But can you at least spend lunch with us today?” 

“I don’t see a problem with that, no. As long as you and Oliver are okay with it.”

“Do you know my name?”

“We are all billionaire kids, why are you surprised? I’m sure you two know my name as well as Thoma’s”

“Fair.”

...

Bruce Wayne does as he said and soon they had a new addition to their weird little group.  The kid is weird as fuck, but not in a bad way and while he knows that they still need to add Junior to the crew - he sure as hell won’t be calling the boy Tommy and Lex’s use of his full name is just ridiculous - he is having fun.  He still isn’t a fan of the idea of hanging out with the creepy boy and his owl tales but he is less fan of letting his best friend deal with the consequences of disapointing Lionel Fucking Luthor, so well. 

He doesn’t even need to worry. Less than a week after Bruce started hanging out with them, Junior just appeared at their usual table. The Waynes are a pack deal after all.  Now Junior behaves perfectly and after mere hours after his first appearance Lex already likes him, too happy to have new friends and a brand new chess partner to question anything else. Bruce adores his brother of course, but that was a given. The boy never uses nicknames for anyone else. 

So he keeps the charade. Keeps pretending there is nothing wrong with Junior, with his obsession with Gothan’s secret owl cult fairytale, and how he twists other people words without a second though, how he once joked about making Gotham pay in blood when there were only the two of them and some rude bastard had asked about the Wayne murder, how there was just something wrong with him. He kept quiet and friendly and oblivious and he almost believed they were just real friends with no weird feeling nagging on. It lasted for months. Almost a year. Until Queen Industries annual charity gala. 

The thing is until Lex, Oliver Queen didn't care at all about the children of the American Elite. They were spoiled and proper and didn't seem to struggle to fit in at all, while Ollie felt the urge to hide and the uncomfortable feeling that even the best extrovert has when talking to a crowd asks for a persona. 

After taking his father's word to heart and befriending Lex (old Oliver would have bullied the kid, old Oliver was too deep into his rich boy persona not too) last year things had changed completely and not at all. Ollie still didn't care for most of the other kids, his only focus was to guarantee Lionel Luthor wouldn't be mad at his kids (he sometimes asked if his dad saw it too, the way Lionel was, the implicit abuse in there but it seems a mean though, Oliver's dad is good and it wouldn't let something like that happens and Ollie himself just realized because he's Lex only friend). But this time, Lex presented his dad at the Waynes, happy to have accomplished his mission and to have enjoyed it at that and Oliver watches. His focus is not exclusively in the Luthors anymore, for the first time he has two Waynes to care for and he can't keep lying to himself: Junior talks a lot like Lionel. The same slightly demanding tone, the same twists and small lies that make you question yourself, your memories and words. Lionel is more aggressive, more assertive, but he is old and powerful and Junior will be this thing but not now. Oliver sees the disaster in front of him, the one no one else seems to see (or care) and he hopes that his dad was right, that Ollie can change things or his friends will end in great trouble.

[trespasssweetlyurged]

I mean wasn't Roy pissed about Ollie killing Lian’s murderer because Roy wanted to do that himself and felt Ollie had denied him his rightful vengeance. I feel like Jason's reaction to that would just be him falling in love with Roy even more. It might even get Jason to like Oliver. Either way he would totes use the knowledge to shame Bruce about being an inadequate dad.

you are absolutely right anon up until the end bc there is no way in hell Jason Todd would ever like Oliver “just-found-out-my-kid-does-drugs-let-me-beat-him-and-disown-him” Queen more than Bruce even over that

(i love oliver and bruce dearly you just can’t call one a better parent than the other they both have issues)

from a crack sense, yes he would absolutely try to goad bruce with that knowledge but bruce would just hit him back with “so go live with oliver queen if you like him so much. ill call him right now. you can be on a plane in an hour.” and then it turns into a grapple for the phone while alfred moves breakable objects out of the way

[unmaskedagain]

Marinette Vs Santa: The Final Round

Okay, so it’s 11:38 on Christmas. I promised I would post this today. So I am. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone. Enjoy your present.

           The jolly fat man would get his, Marinette swore. She wore a lovely gold, snowflake-embroidered cocktail dress. Her hair was done in a French side braid with voluminous Curls; more than she ever had in her entire life. Honestly, she looked like a princess.

           And it would’ve been a win for her if it wasn’t for the circumstances that made it yet another Tie against Santa.

           Roy has his hand on the small of her back since they step out of the limo. The forced sweet smile on her face was for the paparazzi that had waited outside the restaurant. When they got inside, and as they were shone to their table, Roy's hand slipped south.

Marinette stiffened and leaned close to Roy and whispered in his ear, “If you don’t get your hand off my butt, I’m going to take off one of my five-inch heels and slit your throat with it.”

Roy’s hand was gone in a flash, “Aww babe,” He said, a little loudly, nodding to the table where his parents’ Oliver and Dinah waited; their eyes watching the young couple’s every move. “You know I can’t keep my hands off you.”

           Marinette giggled, as she fought the urge to slam his against a nearby table, “Not in front of your parents. It’s called manners.”

Your lucky homicide is still technically illegal, Marinette thought viciously, and a sure-fire way to get on fat bastard’s naughty list.

           He wouldn’t win. No, Marinette had gone too far; been through too much to lose now.

“Thank you, Marinette,” Dinah stood once the two approached. She pulled Marinette into a hug. “I’ve tried to instill etiquette into Roy for years. His last girlfriends and he nearly in trouble for public indecency. Maybe you’ll do a better job than I did.”

           Marinette laughed, “I will even if I have to cut off his hand.”

           Oliver chuckled, “You’re definitely Bruce’s girl.” The resemblance was uncanny.

           After that the fell into an easy conversation.

“That dress is beautiful,” Dinah said. “Who’s the designer?”

           Marinette beamed, “I am. I love fashion. It’s my dream,” She explained. “I plan on launching my own company. While there’s always room to learn and enhance my designing skills, I feel as if I have that side at least somewhat covered. However, the business angle is something I need to learn. Which is why I plan on getting my MBA at an Ivy League. I was considering Yale or Princeton.”

“Princeton,” Oliver grinned. “Did you hear that Roy?” Roy rolled his eyes, and once again, regretted being born. “Marinette’s considering Princeton. That’s the top school on his list. Queens have gone there for generations.” He pulled his wife into a hug. “It’s where I knew Dinah was the one.”

           Dinah gave Marinette a blank stare, “I couldn’t get rid of him. It was like having bedbugs.” (“Hey!” Oliver cried in protest.) “No matter what I did, he just coming back. The only solution was to burn the entire place down and vanish without a trace. But apparently, that’s illegal or whatever. Stupid.”

“I know, right,” Marinette nodded earnestly. “What’s up with that?”

           They had a wonderful dinner. They watched a paparazzi pretending to be a waiter be escorted out of the restaurant. It was great, amazing even. Oliver and Dinah had been perfectly lovely. Roy had acted like a perfect gentleman. Marinette could’ve almost pretended she was actually meeting her boyfriend’s family. She was about to count the entire night as a win until…

“So how many grandkids should I expect in the future,” Oliver asked, a sincere look on his face, though he was snickering inside.

           Marinette chocked on her chocolate mousse and ended up in a coughing fit that Dinah helped her with. Roy had met his father’s gaze and gave him his most charming smile, “Seven,” He answered.

“Seven!” Marinette barked out and she looked around frantically as if Ashton Kutcher had revived his hit show and was about to pop out.

Oh, gods; please let me be getting punked, Marinette prayed.

            Oliver’s eyebrows went up, “Seven, huh, big family.”

           Roy hummed, “the Wayne-Queens certainly will be.”

“You mean the Queen-Waynes,” Oliver corrected, his hackles rising.

“Well, I figured since we’d be living in Gotham,” Roy didn’t even bother to hide his smirk. “We’d go by the Wayne-Queen family. I actually found this great place not too far from Wayne Manor. Plenty of room for the kids, maybe a dog or two; a rose garden. You know how Waynes are about their roses. You can visit whenever.”

           Marinette might have momentarily blacked out during this. It was how Marinette knew she had officially lost that round to Santa.

           Oliver and Dinah just looked at Roy; their entire bodies stiff.

           Dinah took a long drink from her wine glass, “Gotham has such a high crime rate. Have you considered Star City, Marinette?”

“I’ve never been,” Marinette said sweetly. “But I could live anywhere really. I’m pretty open.”

           Roy wrapped an arm around her shoulders, “Yes, but I figured you’d want to spend as much time with your family as possible. Jason’s my best friend. I love Gotham. It just works. Besides Bruce Wayne would make an amazing grandpa.”

           The grip Oliver had on his dessert fork made Marinette fear for Roy’s life. It was time to step in. “I suppose Robb or Thea would love a big backyard to play in.”

           That got the other three’s attention.

“Robb? Thea?” Oliver whispered. His throat was dry. His brain tried to process what was said.

“I wasn’t supposed to say anything. But Roy and I started talking one day and well,” Marinette trailed off. A soft pink blush appeared on Marinette’s face, enhancing her overall innocent aura. She had done background on the Queen family. “Our firstborn; if it’s a boy Robb as in Robert Thomas; for your father and my grandfather. If it’s a girl, Thea Sabine; for your sister and my mother. It was Roy’s idea. He knows how much you loved them.”

           It was then that Marinette got to check off one more wish off her list. It had been made as a joke in passing to Chloe and Kagami months ago. They had been having a girls’ night. When Chloe, ever prepared, asked what they wanted for Christmas. They had been watching a Justice League fight on the news. Marinette had laughed and said she wanted to show them up one day; make a superhero cry.

           However, watching The Green Arrow tear up while the Black Canary comforted himself, made her think that Santa took her to wish out of context.

           Roy was pulled into a big hug by his parents, and he sent her a vicious glare, and mouthed, “What did you do?”

           Oliver pulled back, wiped his eyes, and said, “You know; there’s nothing like a spring wedding in Star City.”

           Marinette threw down her napkin.

Fuck Santa.

-

           The news had a field day. The picture of Marinette in her dress and Roy in his designer suit was what everyone was talking about. The women of the view talked about her outfit. Wendy Williams talked about her outfit. It was as if Marinette was living in another universe.

           Nothing could bring her down.

“What the hell?” Jason asked as he picked her up for school. “Why the fuck is Roy spamming me with hate texts. Why the fuck is Oliver arguing with B over visitation rights to his grandchildren? Who the Fuck are Robb and Thea? And why the fuck is Dad asking Aquaman if Atlantis really sunk on its own, or if it had a little help?”

           Marinette tiled her head, “Is Papa planning on sinking Star City? And that’s forty dollars for the swear jar.” Her parents had implements after one too many curse words were thrown around.

“Worth it!” Jason said. “And yes, I’ve positive that’s what’s going to happen. It’s gonna be amazing. Also, he’s gonna kill Roy!”

“He deserves it,” Marinette crossed her arms.

“Hey!”

“He put his hand on my butt!”

           Jason paused and narrowed his eyes. “Correction. I’m gonna kill Roy.”

           Marinette rolled her eyes, but then she realized something. “Aren’t they’re usually two of you? Where’s the other one?” It was the routine. She was always escorted into school by two members of the Wayne family.

           Jason smirked, “You’ll see.”

           The paparazzi mostly screamed the usual things at her. At that point, she was used to it. It was the few changes at school that she was used to.

           Damocles had been fired for bribes and severe negligence. He was replaced by Mendeleev. Bustier had been fired for her role in Marinette’s expulsion without proper procedure and basically catering to bullies while blaming the victim. She replaced by a sterner teacher name Miss Reed. She was by the book and not afraid to call in the higher-ups if something smelled fishy.

           The first was any and all forms of bullying in class was no longer tolerated. The school had issued a zero-tolerance policy that the kids in Bustier’s class had felt immediately.

           The second was Lila’s supposed medical history. No doctor’s note, no special treatment. It was also required that Lila present a note from her mother regarding any future absences.

           The third was Adrien’s being pulled randomly out of class. CPS got involved real fast regarding child labor laws.

           The days of her classmates getting away with bloody murder were over. Reed saw everything. Everything.

           Alya, who had returned to class always avoided Marinette at all times. Her parents had given her the biggest talking to about respecting others’ right to privacy. Marinette had agreed to drop any legal charges against her former friend provided she adhere to the cease and desist order. The girl knew too much about Marinette. And Marinette needed to make it clear that she would bury the girl in lawsuits before she’d allowed even one-fourth of it to be made public.

           Jason had walked her to class. But he didn’t leave. Instead, he went directly to the back of the class and took a seat next to Chloe. He pulled out his phone and proceeded to ignore the curious looks from the students.

The blond eyed the ripped jeans, the overly sized red flannel shirt, and the beat-up leather jacket, “Grunge died in the 90s. Like it deserved.”

           Jason, not bothering to look up from his phone, “Paris Hilton said it’s cool that you plagiarized her look.”

           Chloe gasped.

           Marinette just looked up at the ceiling, knowing exactly how this was going to go. Chloe would not forgive this. Jason was an asshole. It would be war.

           Miss Reed walked in and didn’t look twice at Jason.

           Marinette narrowed her eyes; something was up.

           The class went on without a hitch though until just about the end of the first period…

           When Tim and a pretty, brown-haired, tanned skin, an older woman walked in the door. They looked to be having a pleasant conversation.

“Mama,” Lila gasped, her eyes wide. “What are you doing here?” She looked around frantically.

“Ooohhhh,” Marinette nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense.” That was what was happening. Operation: Get That Bitch.

“Oh!” Tim feigned surprised. “I didn’t know your daughter was in my sister’s class, Naomi.”

           Naomi had been pleasantly surprised when Tim Drake, the CEO of Wayne Industries reached out to speak to her about potential business ventures in Italy. He was in Paris visiting his sister and wanted an insider perspective on Italy’s economy and tourist information. Her bosses were thrilled. Wayne opening up a site in Italy would do wonders for the overall economic and industrial growth. Then they got to talking about a potential student exchange program that Wayne Industries were willing to fund.

           What Tim hadn’t told the Ambassador was that Wayne Industries had been scouting locations in Italy for their new plant for the last ten months. All the research was done. Everything was primed to go. Still, Tim was kind enough to ensure that Naomi Rossi received the credit for getting Wayne Industries on board.

Mrs. Rossi blinked in surprise, “I had no idea either. Lila, we’re here to discuss a potential international exchange program for kids all over the world. Tim wanted to say hello to his sister. Why didn’t you tell me you were friends with Marinette Wayne?”

           Marinette leaned forward in her seat. A slow smile spread across her face.

��I, well, I,” Lila struggled to say.

“We’re not the closest, Mrs. Rossi,” Marinette offered. “She’s always so busy, we haven’t had the time.”

“Ahh,” Tim snapped his fingers. “That Lila Rossi. Marinette told me all about her.” He crossed his arms. “Naomi, how was Achu? I haven’t gone yet. But from what Marinette’s told of Lila’s stories, you two go all the time. You become close to the royal family, yes?”

           Coldness went down to Naomi Rossi’s spine. She stiffened. Her eyes went to her daughter who had a look of dread on her face. Not this again, she nearly groaned. “There’s been some… confusion,” Mrs. Rossi said, gearing up every ounce of diplomacy she learned in her twenty-year career. Lila was so grounded after this. “A miscommunication, I suppose. My ambassadorship has taken my family to England, Spain, and Japan for a little while, and here in France, of course. However, nowhere else. We have never been to Achu. That is a bit above my paygrade, I’m afraid,” She laughed nervously.

           The class was as silent as a library. If Bustier was still there, a few students would’ve started yelling their complaints and cries for explanations. One or two would’ve started screaming at Lila for lying. But Bustier was gone. And the look Reed was giving her class, dared them to try.

           Tim chuckled, “Kids. When I was seven I swore I spent the summer in Greece with my parents. I didn’t find out until I was eleven that I was actually in Rome. What can you do?” He gave her his most charming smile. “England, was that where Lila met Jagged Stone? I think he’s from there.”

“Jagged who now?” Naomi asked. “The Rock Star? No, Lila’s never met him. She’s a huge fan though.”

“But he wrote a song about her!” Alya cried out. “She saved his cat from getting hit by a plane!”

           Miss Reed, “Alya, please raise your hand and keep to a reasonable level while inside. It will be detention if I have to tell you again.”

Miss Reed and Mendeleiev had agreed to The Wayne's suggestion of revealing Lila’s lies to the class. It was the only way they would believe it and that she could lie her way out of. It was unnatural the way the students trailed after the girl, simpering over grand stories and promises of famous connections. They needed to learn to rely on hard work and their own talent, not on how many famous people they might get to the chance to meet.

“A plane?” Mrs. Rossi asked, an affronted look on her face. “You think I would ever allow my child to be in such danger?” She looked at her daughter. “Your grandmother always said you would be a grand writer with all the stories you tell. You could’ve at least come with a sensible lie.”

“I can explain,” Lila said but whether she was talking to her mother or class was anyone’s guess.

           Rose raised her hand, “Lie? Lila can’t be lying. What about all the trips she takes with you? The charity organizations she runs? The famous people she knows like Clara Nightingale who always ask her for help. She’s close friends with Prince Ali. That’s why she’s always away from school. One time she was gone for weeks.”

           Naomi Rossi looked at her daughter, who did everything she could to avoid eye contact with her mother. “You told me that the school was closed due to the Akumas. It was a lie.” She looked at the teacher. “If the school wasn’t closed, Lila should have only missed three days of school this semester due to her being ill with the flu. She should have only missed seven to ten days in total last year. I do apologize, my daughter…” She gave Lila a dark look. “Seems to have a talent for tall tales.”

           Miss Reed stood up, “It’s a matter for the Principle. Her last teacher overlooked many things and wrote off what she couldn’t. Her schoolwork was done the year before; her grades were good enough to pass. She has not missed too many days so far; a few more than the average student but it happens. Any homework missed can still be made up. She is welcome in my class. However, when you get the chance, I would like make an appointment to discuss with you any medical accommodations she has that need to be addressed.”

           Mrs. Rossi crossed her arms, “She never wears her glasses. She has sensitive eyes that prevent her from wearing contacts. Without them, she can’t see more than a few feet ahead of her.” She looked straight at her daughter. “And she knows this.”

           Marinette wanted to bang her head against the desk. Why couldn’t Lila just say that? She’d have understood.

           Mrs. Rossi looked at the class, “I am so sorry for any trouble my daughter may have caused.” She looked at Tim. “I hope this doesn’t cast a negative light on any prospective business relations.”

           Tim shook his head, “Kids will be kids. Let’s continue to speak over lunch.”

“I’ll see you at home, Lila,” Mrs. Rossi said.

           Tim grinned, “Marinette, I’ll see you after school. Jason.”

           Jason got to leave only to stumble nearly down the stairs. He cast a quick glare at Chloe.

           The blond gave him a vicious smirk, “Walk much?”

“Oh it’s on,” Jason hissed.

           Marinette rolled her eyes. Last year, she had wished with all her might that her friends would see Lila for who she really was. Now the truth was out. Lila had been exposed.

           Regrettably, Marinette had already lost all her friends. And those who were still her friends, already knew the truth. So it wouldn’t change much. She’d had already forgiven her ex-friends a long time ago. Marinette just had to intention of being friends with them again. Still, it was a victory.

           Fuck Santa; this round went Marinette.

-

-

           The Justice League had been stunned when they learned that the masked hero Ladybug who was protecting Paris in an adorable bright red suit, who seemed to be made of sunshine, rainbows, and happiness was Batman’s daughter. Like so stunned that as soon as they saw her secret Identity of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and her takedown of monsters twelve times her size; one or two (or twelve) asked Superman to take a DNA test too. Because Bruce Wayne wasn’t the only black-haired Superhero around, and you know things happen.

           …Batman hadn’t been happy when Oracle alerted him that someone in the Watch Tower was running his daughter’s DNA against Superman’s.

“How sure are we?” Hal Jordan asked. “The DNA results never came back. How do we know she’s not Big S’s?”

           The main members of the Justice League were waiting for Batman and his family to arrive. Then they were would officially be introduced to the hero Ladybug.

           Superman glared, “Stop it. Batman already brought out the kryptonite the last time you mentioned it.”

           Wonder man nodded, “Her civilian self is the spitting image of Bruce.”

“All of his kids have dark hair and light eyes,” The Flash reminded them. “One of like seven or twelve, or however many he has now, we know for sure is his.”

“They are all his,” Black Canary stated with a growl. She and Oliver had adopted Roy when he was young but that didn’t make the boy any less hers.

           Just then the light of the zeta beam sounded and Batman and Ladybug appeared in the room. The clear contrast between the two was startling.

           The Dark, brooding, Knight of Gotham dressed in all black with a look on his face that could’ve made Superman wince in fear. Ladybug, dressed in bright red, with a big, cheerful, smile on her face and large blue eyes that looked positively mesmerized by the heroes.

“I brought cookies,” The small girl chirped as she motioned to the goodies in her hands. “And apple pie! It’s a family recipe. I made them myself. I really hope you like them.”

           Batman glared worsen to the point where a few Justice League members feared for their lives. The message was clear; they’d like them. Or else.

“I’m sure they’re wonderful,” Diana smiled. “Come on, let me show you where we’ll be meeting.

           Marinette tried not to stare in awe at her favorite superhero. “I also brought Vegan. And gluten-free cookies. I wanted to make sure everyone could get some.” She said as she was led away.

           The world-renowned heroes visibly cooed at the young hero. She was the most adorable thing they’d ever laid eyes on.

           The Flash laughed, “What did you bring, Bats?”

“Death,” Batman growled as stalked after his daughter.

           Cyborg swallowed hard. “I’m not saying you’re right,” He told Hal and Barry. “I’m saying for this type of situation; Maury is classier than Jerry Springer.”

           Superman groaned. They were going to get him killed.

“Apple pie!” The flash said. “She brought Apple, Clark; it’s a sign from the gods.”

           Ladybug briefing them on her hero journey had been riveting. The Justice League had always been aware of Ladybug's existence. Once aware of her, Diana had told them all the history of the Miraculous and how her own mother used to be one of the users. Ladybug, with Chat Noir for a time, handled herself and protected the city well. They saw no reason to interfere. The Justice League had strict rules of interfering with another’s heroes’ turf. They figured if Ladybug needs help, the hero would call on them. They never knew she was a child.

           Her age bothered them.

“She can’t protect the city,” Aquaman said. “We’ll need to step in.”

“Excuse me,” Marinette said.

           The Flash nodded, “We’ll need to run Intel. I’ll have Vibe take a look at things.”

“Wait! I don’t think you-” Marinette started but was cut off.

“The magic is ancient and powerful,” Hawkman interrupted. “We should call Constantine. Or Doctor Fate perhaps.”

           Ladybug shook her head, “That wouldn’t be a good idea!”

           Green Lantern waved her off, “It’s fine, kid. We’ll handle it. While we’re at it; consider joining Young Justice or Teen Titans. Get you some training before you call yourself a real hero. Until then stick with the little league team.”

           Marinette froze. What did he just say? White-hot anger coursed through her veins.

           And to think she always dreamed of meeting the Justice League; of standing face to face with the heroes after having proven herself; proven that she was just as much of a superhero as they. However, Marinette knew she was already a hero. And no one would tell her otherwise.

           The round went to Santa. But Marinette would have her due.

           Fuck Santa!

Superman said, “We’ll start having unplaced league members scouting the area. They’ll notify us at the first sign of Hawkmoth.”

“ENOUGH!” Marinette yelled. She growled at the heroes. “Who the hell do you think you are?” The silence that followed that question was deafening. “You know nothing of Hawkmoth; saw nothing of what I’ve been through. There is a reason I never called in the league. Superpowered individuals still have emotions; still anger. He can turn any of you into akumas. Get inside your heads; learn who you really are. You’ll be a toy for him. Batman brought me here to meet you; not for you to pretend you know how to do my job.”

           She glared at the room and then zeroed in on the Green Lantern. Within seconds, Ladybug had yanked him out of his seat, pulled the ring off his finger, and held by his collar as the man detransformed. “Real Hero? You think I’m not a real hero? I’ve fought monsters nightmares couldn’t even begin to fathom. You want to see what I’m capable of, Glow Stick? How about I take you to the nearest training room and see if you bleed green?”

           Batman stood up, “My team will be running point on the Paris situation; following Ladybug lead. You’ll refrain from entering the city of Paris until further notice. That is all.” He looked at his daughter and had to fight to keep the smile off his face. “Ladybug let Green Lantern go, and give him back his ring.”

           Ladybug huffed, “I’ll give him back his ring. And then I want ten minutes alone with him.”

           Hal gulped.

“No,” Batman said. “We must leave. You have to get ready for Winter break. Next time.”

           Ladybug glared and then dropped the hero on the ground. “Next time,” She promised.

           Then swiftly the father and daughter duo departed.

           Once the two were gone, Wonder Woman chuckled, “Anyone else want to question Ladybug’s Paternity. Anyone?”

           Barry had to fight the shivers that went through him. Ladybug had Batman’s glare and knew how to use it. “Nope. Never again.”

-

-

           Marinette’s first night in Gotham was memorable. The entire bat family had been waiting for Marinette when she arrived; Bruce, Alfred, Kate, Dick, Barbara, Jason, Cassandra, Tim, Stephanie, Luke, and Damian. Alfred, the man her brothers had deemed their grandfather, had welcomed her with open arms and a dinner that was more like a feast than a simple meal.

           On the outside, Wayne manor looked like any home in the neighborhood; quiet, idealistic, and seemingly perfect.

           On the inside, as soon as Bruce and Alfred stepped away for a moment, her siblings took her to the Batcave. It was as grand as she always imagined. Then someone (Tim) brought out lightsabers.

           Marinette thought it was a fancy version of the toy she used to love so much as a kid; her only complaint was that the plastic swords only came in green, red and the occasional blue. She really wanted a pink one and had put it on her Christmas list for two years straight.

           She pressed the button, only for the sword handle to heat up, and a pink laser rises out of it. “Tim?”

“Yeah?”

“…This is a real lightsaber,” The heat from the sword threated to burn or hand a little. Or worse. She’d seen all the movies. She knew how this usually ended up.

“Yep.”

           Marinette nodded slowly. Because what the heck.

“Just go with it,” Luke shrugged. “Just-just go with it.” He sounded like a defeated man. A tired one at that.

“Don’t be like that!” Dick smiled, “Family bond time is the best time.”

“Jedi versus Sith?” Marinette just asked.

           Tim pointed a bright gold lightsaber at her, “Jedi versus Sith.”

           Marinette looked around at the different colored and very, very dangerous lightsabers. There was no way this could possibly go well. And with the way her Kate, aka Batwoman, was smirking there was no way Alfred would consider her proper adult supervision. Someone was going to lose a hand. Or die. Most likely both.

           But she wouldn’t back down. This was more or less her eight-year-old self’s dream. It was also likely to get her killed.

           …Marinette would take those odds.

“What team am I on?” She asked.

           Cassandra shook her head, “Up to you. Good versus is a chose; just a game though,” She cast Stern looks at Jason, Tim, and Damian, who now sported black robes, clearly, by the Darth Maul make up that had somehow appeared on Damian’s face, were clearly Sith Lords.

           Santa thought this would scare her. That she would be cowed into submission. Finally admit defeat. Well, Marinette only had one thing to say to that. Two things actually.

“Give in to the dark side, sister,” Damian ordered her. His lightsaber was red and had two sides to it much like the character he matched.

           Marinette got into a fighting stance, “Not today.”

           And Fuck Santa.

           …

           Alfred and Bruce were not happy when they finally located the children.

           Or the fact that someone had to get their hand reattached.

--

--

           It was two to two. Christmas day had arrived. Marinette had expected the worst; had geared up for the worst.

           Nothing happened.

           Marinette spent the day with her family.

           Her parents had even arrived from Paris on the day before Christmas eve.

           They shared presents. They sang songs. The entire family was together. It snowed outside. She and all of her siblings had a snowball fight while her parents and Alfred watched from the porch.

           It was a perfect Christmas day.

           Except for one thing…

           Marinette knew the truth.

           The perfect day was the result of one thing…

           Santa was preparing too. He didn’t back down. The fight wasn’t over yet. He was too busy to mess with her on Christmas Eve or Christmas. Nevertheless, that didn’t mean anything.

           Everyone knew the Holiday season didn’t officially end until January 1st.

           After New Year’s eve.

           That was the final round.

           The match to end all matches.

           On New Years’ Eve, it would be war.

-

-

           Roy wore a tailored tux as he walked her down the carpet, passed the flashing lights of the paparazzi.

Marinette never thought she’d fight the most battle of her life in a ballgown. It was a jaw-dropping, off the shoulder, floor length silver dress with lacy unique floral accents. Her hair was in a side-braid with small forget-me-nots on top of her hair like a crown.

            It was her battle armor, and she was ready for anything.

           It was a promise, she made to herself.

           …

           Okay so it turns out, Marinette lied to herself.

           She wasn’t ready for anything. She did not stand a chance against Santa. He was a jerk. And she was six-second from throwing in the towel and running off crying.

           Marinette had known exactly who was attending the ball. She had memorized every guest on the list. Trying to figure out exactly what the fat guy who throws out her. As soon as she saw exactly which celebrities were coming. She knew.

           The first punch had been the man ten-year-old Marinette swore she was going marry. Harry freaking Styles.

           But Marinette had prepared herself.  It would be a quick conversation and then she wouldn’t speak to him for the rest of the night.

           When she met the superstar, Marinette had smiled and laughed; had a good conversation, wasn’t even awkward at all. She wasn’t the overly One Direction obsessed 10-year-old anymore.

           It was a hard hit, and the best conversation of her life, but Marinette didn’t go down.

           Santa’s next move was a cheap shot, and she stumbled.

           Marinette had been trying to find a quiet place to think for herself so could get strengthen up a bit but, to avoid one of her brothers (Dick), she collided straight into Nick Jonas and fell on her butt.

           She hadn’t even realized it at first as he helped her up.

“Thank you,” Marinette said kindly, as she brushed off her dress. When she looked up and saw exactly who had collided with, her face turned a bright red. “You’re Nick Jonas,” She squeaked; literally squeaked. She wanted to die.

           Nick Jonas. She loved Nick Jonas. She listen to all his songs; even his old Jonas Brothers ones. She had always wanted to meet the singer; she had dreamed about it.

“Yeah,” Nick smiled. “You alright.”

           No. Marinette was not alright.

           Still, she chirped a quick, “I’m fine.” And introduced herself.

           Then he said, “Love your dress.”

“I made it! I can make you one!” Slipped out before she could stop it.        

           He just laughed though, “How about a suit instead?”

           Yeah, so that happened.

           And the night just got worse from there.

           …

           Santa gave her a combo hit; worthy of a champion.

           Not many knew but Marinette was a huge Harry Potter fangirl. Hermione Granger was her all-time favorite. She was a hardcore Harmony shipper; Harry/Hermione forever.

           Tim knew it though. He was a big-time fan as well. And he thought it would be a great idea to introduce Marinette to the actress who played her favorite character; Emma Watson.

           It was not a good idea. At all.

The first words out of Marinette’s mouth upon seeing Emma Watson were literally, “It's leviOsa, not levioSA!”

And it was at the point that Marinette just wanted to call it a night.

Emma had laughed it off, promising she got it all the time.

…

Marinette met Chris Hemsworth and just wouldn’t stop giggling.

Stephanie had to pull her away.

It was then that she knew Santa had her on the ropes.

…

She met Big Time Rush.

The boy band had become internally famous over the last few years. Not as big as One Direction but they still had their dedicated fans. Marinette was one of them

Kendall Knight, James Diamond, Carlos Garcia, and Logan Mitchell. They were all eighteen

It should’ve have been easy. She liked their band but not nearly as much as she liked Harry Styles, or Emma Watson, Or Chris Hemsworth.

Still, she hadn’t seen James asking her to dance coming.

However, Marinette had remained calm and cool.

It’s a pity, she was still such a klutz.

Suffice to say, Marinette wouldn’t be listening to Big Time Rush for a while. And James Diamond wouldn’t be asking strange girls to dance any time soon.

Santa gave her a punch right in the face.

…

She ran into Tom Holland the exact moment she got the hiccups. He did his best to help her get rid of them

…

Marinette had just stuffed an entire cupcake in her mouth when she realized Jennifer Lawrence was standing next to her. It wasn’t too bad. As the blond did the same thing a second later.

…

She pointed at Johnny Depp and said, “Jack Sparrow. You’re Jack Sparrow. Oh my god!!!”

           To which he replied, “Captain Jack Sparrow.”

           …

           Suffice to say, Santa didn’t have Marinette on the robes anymore.

           No, Marinette was on the floor; waiting for the referee to call it.

           …

           It was an hour until the official New Year. Fifteen minutes until Marinette was supposed to perform. She was backstage. Everyone was waiting for her. She promised Tim.

And she found that she just couldn’t do it.

           The entire night was too much.

           It was all too much.

           It was over.

           She had lost.

“Rough night?” Roy, her date and pretend boyfriend asked.

           Marinette was sitting on a chair, her face in her hands, “You have no idea.”

           Roy sat next to her, “Pretty exciting though right?” He didn’t get an answer. “Tim said you met Emma Watson, that had to be awesome.”

“It was embarrassing.”

           Roy frowned, “Sabine told me you used to dress up as Hermione Granger all time. You’re saying meeting the Queen herself wasn’t even a little cool?”

           Yeah, it had been amazing to meet her in person. “A little cool.”

           Roy chuckled, “You met Harry Styles,” He reminded. “And from your blond bestie told me; my only real competition.”

           Marinette giggled. “That had been… awesome.” And everything.

“You met Chris Hemsworth,” He added. “Tom Holland, Big Time Rush, and a bunch of other celebs that I’ve been told you were huge fans of. Yeah, you were a little embarrassed.” He shook his head. “But I don’t get it; I’d be so psyched right now if I were you. So why aren’t you.”

           Marinette paused.

           Why wasn’t she?

           Marinette had met people she never even dared to really hope she’d ever meet one day. She wore the most beautiful dress in her entire life; danced with Roy Queen and James Diamond. Joked with Harry Styles. Talked Emma Watson the actress who played the character she loved most out of all the books, tv shows, and movies she’d ever loved.

           It was all a matter of perspective really. Marinette was so focused on the bad, she never even realized just how great it was. Santa had thrown the worst at her but was still there. She hadn’t run back to Wayne Manor no matter how much she had wanted to. She stayed strong.

           At one point, she knew for certain that she wouldn’t just surrender; after the Chris Hemsworth incident. If Santa wanted to win, he was going to have to knock her out.

“Thanks, Roy,” She said. “I couldn’t wish for a better date.”

           It was the most amazing night of her life.

           And no one was going to make her feel otherwise.

           Marinette stood up, determination on her face.

           She had a song to sing.

           …

           Marinette stood on stage. The crowd looked up at her. Her hands were shaking. Her mouth felt dry. The lights were near blinding.  She had changed the song at the last minute. The music was coming from her phone anyway.

           Marinette knew the lyrics to the song by heart; had sung it a thousand times in her room to herself.

           She could do this.

I will do this, Marinette swore.

           The music started. It was her favorite song. And Marinette was going to sing it so loudly, so proudly; they could hear her in the North Pole.

“What if I told you

It was all meant to be

Would you believe me

Would you agree

It's almost that feelin'

That we've met before

So tell me that you don't think I'm crazy

When I tell you love has come and now.”

           She was doing it. Marinette was really doing it. She always had a good voice. She had taken singing lessons for a long time. And her teachers always praised her talent. But after one terrible incident, she never thought she’d ever get on stage and sing in front of anyone again.

           But there she was.

“A moment like this

Some people wait a lifetime

For a moment like this

Some people search forever…

           Honestly, Marinette could fall right on her face and it would stop the euphoric feeling coursing through. This was her victory song.

           Jolly Saint Nick had thrown at her more than she ever thought she could take. But she was still standing.

           And as long as she was, the big red guy would never win.

For that one special kiss

Oh, I can't believe it's happening to me

Some people wait a lifetime

For a moment like this…”

The music faded. The applause from the audience roared.

…

Marinette and Roy slow danced to something my Celine Dion neither could recognize. The New Year was less than two minutes away.

“You’re looking a lot better,” Roy smirked. He knew he was good at Pep talks to matter what Artemis said.

“I feel better,” Marinette admitted. “It’s been an awesome few weeks.”

“Yeah?” Roy asked as he twirled her around.

           Marinette nodded, “Nearly Every. One. Of. My. Christmas wishes came true.” She tried not to growl. Positive outlook after.

“Santa must be out to get you.”

           Marinette looked up at Roy with appreciation, “You have no idea.”

“Anything he didn’t get to?” The redhead asked. “Something you can do for yourself first?”

“Countdown to New Years in 10!”

           Marinette thought about it for a second but she realized there was. There was one more thing on her list, that she added at the very beginning of Christmas.

“Yeah, there is.” She said. “Do you want to kiss me.”

           Roy nodded earnestly.

           The crowd counted down. “7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1” And then Marinette kissed Roy.

           Balloons came from above. Everyone cheered. But Marinette kept kissing Roy.

           She always wanted a New Year’s kiss.

           Take that and stick it up your chimney, Santa.

           Marinette was officially the winner.

           Nevertheless, there was always next year.

           But for now, fuck Santa!