#this is because if i see one more 'dick grayson would never be a cop' post i might just lose it
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siri-ike · 1 day ago
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"Hello. I need someone at Wayne Manor. Someone just died... I think." Bruce had locked himself in the nearest room. Thankfully, one of the wireless phones was in there. "I don't know who it was, but he looked like he could be about 15 or 16, and he had white hair. He just, melted, into some kind of goo." He tried to catch his breath, but he couldn't. The thoughts circling around in his head just wouldn't leave him alone. Why was Alfred so calm? Why didn't he want to call the police? Was the detective here yesterday because of this? Did Alfred kill that boy? No! Alfred would never do something like that! There has to be a better explanation. "Can you send Lieutenant Gordon, please?" Jim can find the answer. He can trust Jim. "Hello?" Isn't there supposed to be someone on the other end? Telling him to be calm in a situation where it's impossible to be calm?
"Danny. We can explain everything."
Bruce throws the phone across the room. It's, it's the detective from yesterday. He must be behind this. Everyone knows the cops in Gotham are dirty.
"Master, Bruce. Listen, it's not what it looks like." He's probably forcing Alfred to help him, too. That's why he was so weird at dinner.
Windows locked. He must have planned for this. Was all of this premeditated? Was he supposed to see that? Bruce tried to find anything heavy enough to break the window, but of course, this room was practically a padded cell.
He had to settle for wrapping his jacket around his fist. The glass was more decorative than sturdy, so it wasn't that hard to break. But it was loud. He had to kick it a couple of times to make the hole big enough. Then he stopped. What was he thinking? They're just going to get more aggressive now. And it's not like he can just leave. Where would he go? His hand really hurts.
He was alerted to the door by scratching and light clinking noises. They're picking the lock. He sneaks over to the bathroom, careful not to leave a blood trail.
The door bursts open, footsteps rush into the room, and someone jumps out the window. It was all one sound, but Bruce knew exactly what happened. He let's out a silent, sigh of relief. He waits a moment to make sure he can't hear any movement. He looks through the key hole in the bathroom door before cautiously opening it. The room is empty. The emergency phone should work. He can get there in 7 minutes flat. He'd timed himself dozens of times.
The door to the hallway was left open. Best not to touch it in case he comes back before Bruce gets discovered. The second he crept past the door, he felt a pair of eyes on him.
Alfred grabbed his left sleeve, but Bruce simply ripped it off and bolted away as fast as he could. He made it out of the family wing and through the guest room wing but got cut of half way through the collection corridor.
Desperately, Bruce tried to slow him down, but the detective seemed to be perfectly capable of running on the walls and ceiling, too. What kind of freak did he get involved with? He had almost made it to the medieval weapons room when Grayson picked him up like he weighed nothing more than an angry sack of flour. Screaming, kicking, biting. Nothing worked. He was too strong. He sprayed something in Bruce's face, and, it was, it was like everything, got fuzzy, and a little warm, hehe, all his muscles felt so soft, and bones, little squishy, hehe hehehe, squishy bones.
Dick let Danny lay in his arms, giggling for a while. Long enough to catch his breath. Was the real Bruce so slippery at this age? Long enough for Alfred to get here.
Dick picked Danny up. As gentle as he could with all that twitching. He didn't wanna use that spray on a child, but he couldn't knock him out either. What if he forgets again?
Back at the batcave Dick had to keep holding Danny because he wouldn't let go of his arm. It's totally not because he just likes the snuggle. Nope. Nightwing is being very professional. He hasn't even mentally designed a new Robin costume.
At long last, Zatanna Zeta-ed in. The JLD had been off world for ages, dealing with some dimension crap.
"Hey, girl," She elegantly stepped out of the glowing portal.
"Hey, girl," He replied. "Want the breif or are you cought up?"
"Bat-Clone, recently stabilized, altzimers? Question mark? Thinks he's Bruce in the late 80s." She gave Dick a look. "You two were made for each other." She teased.
"Ha-ha," He mocked. "He's out of it now, but he won't be able to lie or run."
"And he's on your lap because - You're just such close friends? I figured he would have accused you of murder or something by now."
"Murder?" His voice got higher. "Nooo - he didn't specify." Nightwing sounded like he was drowning on dry land. "I mean, sure, he requested a homicide detective. But that's just because Jim is the only cop he trusts." A chill runs through Dicks whole body. Danny had turned his head so now Dicks chest was covered in drool.
Zatanna reached her hand into her hat and pulled out a notebook and pen. "Let's start, then." She smiled smuggly at Dick, then crouched down just enough to be eye level with Danny. She put a hand on the boys' sholder. "Can you tell me your name?"
Bruce slowly turned his head, looking like he might fall over if he tried to move faster. There was a woman's voice speaking to him. She was blurry, and his eyes didn't wanna open all the way, but he could tell she had long black hair and was either wearing a black bodice with white sleeves or just a bodice. The room they were in was dimly lit, so that wasn't helping. "Auh?"
"Can you tell me your name?" She repeated patiently.
"... Bruce... Wayne... 12... April... 1988?"
Zatanna looked confused at Dick returned a shrug.
"What happened to you?" She addressed Bruce again.
"I - I, saw, a boy in the hallway. He melted," Bruce gestured to the green sludge, no longer glowing all over his shirt and pants. "Alfred was, going to clean it. Like, he knew someone was going to melt there." Bruce was too busy tripping balls to notice the concerned looks around him. "I called the police, but, detective, was on the phone. I tricked him, to jump, out the window."
Zatanna glanced at Nightwing, who looked proud more than anything.
"I was gonna run to the panic room. There's, phone there, but detective chased me." Bruce held tighter onto Dicks arm.
Zatanna looked between the two and closed her book. "Bruce? Who's lap are you sitting on?"
Nightwing braced for impact.
"My dad." He said fondly.
Zatanna took a deep breath. "Is your dad alive?"
"No." Bruce smiled.
A slew of emotions came and went from Zatannas face before landing on the next question. "Are you alive?"
"No." He looked so pleased.
Clone Danny long post
The footprints lead Alfred out of the room and to the right but quickly dried up on the short hair carpet.
Alfred checked every room to the right of Danny's. He had to have left the family wing. 40 minutes of searching later, Alfred was about to go down yet another hallway when he heard faint music and metal clanging. He walked closer to the sound until he could make out some words.
🎶I- can hear the sound of violins🎶
🎶long before- it begins🎶
The gym. Someone is at the gym. He told Dick to relax. This is the opposite of relaxing. He stops for a moment outside the door to gather himself. People listen to empathy more than anger. When Alfred pushed the door open and looked down at the workout area, he didn't see a disobedient clown. No. Instead, he was forcibly dragged back to 1989, staring at a 13 year old Bruce doing chest presses. He always looked the most at ease when he was at the gym. The rest of the time, he would be looking for his parents' killer or discovering seacret organizations. Alfred used to cherish the time Bruce spent at the gym because he knew it was the closest he could get to calm. Shortly, Danny put down his 3 kg weights and addressed Alfred.
"Morning, Alfred. Breakfast already? Thought I had more time." He sounded like Bruce, more than just his voice. Danny had his own way of talking, but this was all Bruce.
"Young Master," best not to object to his perceived reality, whatever that may be. "It's almost seven in the afternoon, not morning." The sun would have spoiled that for him anyway. "And dinner will be ready in two hours."
"Oh, ok. I'll be there at nine then." Danny simply went over to the next station in his routine. Right as he sat down on the floor, something seemed to dawn on him. "Alfred? Did something happen to me?" He asked innocently.
Alfred remained frozen, staring at the young boy. "What would give you that idea?"
"I woke up in a different room than usual, I had to switch down all my weights, and the files in my father's office have been moved. And then you came in looking like you've seen a ghost." Ever the detective.
"Nothing gets past you. I'm afraid you had a rather bad fever and spent a few days in bed. I would like to examine your health, but it can wait. Let's say, eight-thirty? Before dinner?"
"Kitchen at eight-thirty, got it."
Alfred left the room and braced himself on the door. He thinks he's Bruce. He probably thinks it's the 80s or 90s, too. It's a good thing most everyone is out hunting down clues and/or committing extreme acts of violence.
Danny had changed into an all black suit (bowtie and kerchief included) before coming to the kitchen at 8:27. Hmm, he does like to be punctual. His temperature and heart rate were normal, for once he didn't have bags under his eyes, which responded in time to light. But, he was definitely younger than he was when he arrived. Dick wasn't imagining that.
"Can you tell me your name, age, and today's date?"
"Bruce Thomas Wayne, 12, almost 13, today is November, uh," He struggled a bit. "17th? Maybe a bit later, 1988." He avoided eye contact. "Just so we're clear, I wouldn't have known today's date even if I hadn't been sick."
Alfred smiled a little, remembering how much he used to care about getting good scores on everything. "I'll be sure to include that in the report." He retorted sarcastically, earning a small grin back. "Now go wash up, dinners almost ready."
As per routine, Alfred started by bringing out the helthiest dishes. They all knew it was a trick to get them to eat vegetables, but no one was ever willing to wait. Danny was so hungry, even the brussel sprouts were appetizing. Now if Alfred could just stop staring at him and actually put the container on the table.
"Alfred?"
"W, what?"
"Are you OK?"
Danny had combed his hair when he'd asked him to wash up. This was Bruce. This was the boy Alfred raised. The one who had fallen asleep in his arms every night for months because he refused to be alone in the dark. The one who used to "forget" to tell Alfred about the handfuls of peanut butter in his pockets, ruining thousand dollars dress pants on six different occasions. The one who wanted to keep street cats knowing full well he was allergic.
"Do you need a day off? Or maybe a week?"
"What? No. I'm alright master Bruce. Just, uhm, glad to see you have your appetite back. That's all." Keep it together now. He set down a steaming glass dish full of baked carrots, sweet potatoes, bell peppers, onions, brussel sprouts, broccoli, cauliflower, and mushrooms.
Danny took as big a serving as he could fit (vegetables can only go in the top right on his plate), making sure not to let the butter run too much. The next dish was steamed turnip. Crap. Another vegetable. Can't mix them. Can't put it somewhere else. The only option is to finish the baked vegetables fast.
By the time he finished his quarter of a turnip, six more dishes had already shown up. How many people does Alfred think live here?
At 21:11 Dick walked into the dining room. Dressed in a plain shirt and pants. The two boys looked like they were going to entirely different events.
"Hello." Danny invited. "I'm sorry, have we met?"
"This gentleman is detective Richard Grayson." Alfred interjected. "Master Dick, would you care to join us for dinner?"
"Oh, where are my manners? Here, have a seat. There's plenty of food."
The dinner after that was awkward, but nice. It's good to have some company once in a while. Ever since his parents died, it's just been him and Alfred.
He did wake up late in the afternoon, so it shouldn't be such a surprise that he got to stay up and watch his gray ghost VHS tapes way later than his usual bedtime. Only interrupted occasionally by Alfred, making sure he's keeping all that food down. He had to have been really sick. He doesn't even remember throwing up recently.
He must have dosed off at some point because he was awoken abruptly at some horrid hour of the night by an ear pierceing scream. He hurried to its sorce in the family wing where he saw what looked like another Bruce, except this one had white hair and wore a black onesie. He appeared to be melting into a glowing green sludge. Bruce knelt down and grabbed the boy, who stopped screaming. Opting to bury his face in Bruce's chest instead.
Alfred came just as the gruesome scene was over. 4:50 am, same place, same time, every night. Alfred had hoped something had improved when the screaming stopped early. But rather than the typical gorey mess, there was Danny, inconsolable and covered in slime.
"Wh, wh, ah?" Who was that? What was that?? Why was that???
"Master da- Bruce." At lightning speed, Alfred was on his knees and holding Danny. "Come on, you don't have to be here." He tried to lift him up, but Danny resisted.
"...Why do you have the carpet cleaner?" He accused. "Did you know this would happen?"
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starvinginbelair · 11 months ago
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sometimes i just want to yell and scream about people who all "my character needs to be morally pure in all manners" because THAT IS NOT THE POINT! THE POINT IS HAVING NUANCED. CONVERSATIONS. ABOUT. WHY. THEY. ARE. THAT. WAY.
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forwards-beckon-rebound · 2 months ago
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dick grayson figure skating hcs
i swear i wasn’t searching for any skater specifically but what am i supposed to do, look at yuzuru hanyu and not use the pic?
ft mostly men’s singles but there’s bonus dick x reader pairs at the end
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we’ve talked about dick grayson going to the olympics for gymnastics
what probably happened was the batfam got together and decided to watch the summer olympics and we got to pommel horse guy
and jason made some comment about how that guy’s basically just a better dick
and he took that personally
so of course he’s already calling up the us gymnastics team because what is the point of being bruce wayne’s son if you don’t have the most random connections ever (and they were probably already begging him to join anyways)
but 4 years is a long time to wait, so in the meantime, he decides to work on competing in the winter olympics too
and he just so happens to be a figure skating prodigy bc ofc he is (bruce signs them up for a lot of extracurriculars so all of the bat kids are weirdly good at random stuff)
ooooh this means that he’d be good at ballet too which pisses me off
he’s kinda like nathan chen in the sense that this guy is good at too many things and my asian parents would unfortunately love him
anyways! back on topic
unfortunately brian orser cannot be flown out to gotham every day (if you don’t know who he is, he is simply the goat i don’t make the rules) so dick probably has a different coach for day to day training
but he went to intensives a couple of times a year growing up
he kinda stopped when the titans and nightwing stuff got to be too much to handle but the two of them still keep in touch and brian’s like i can’t believe my star pupil is wasting his talents being a cop, why is he not on the ice
so you KNOW as soon as the olympics idea comes up dick’s calling brian up and bro sheds tears when he gets the call
he already had the routines planned out and the songs picked because he keeps on getting ideas and being like this is so dick grayson coded (with the same energy as somebody writing headcanons i imagine)
guys hear me out, fun jazzy short
like he gets the crowd to clap along and he just has the brightest smile on his face the whole time
yes i am thinking about kagiyama yuma’s song choice at the beijing olympics. and honestly his outfit too but i’m imagining dick’s is a brighter blue
and you think it’s all fun and games
AND HE PULLS OUT THE CLEANEST 3A + 1EU + 4L KNOWN TO MAN
and ofc he can do a quad axel who is surprised
lives were changed with the short 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️
alsoooooo the ISU legalized backflips now and you know dick is gonna do one of those
ACTUALLY if you guys have ever seen malinin's raspberry twist
are we seeing the vision guys
i feel like he would choose something more emotional for his free (gotta get those performance points)
if nobody is bawling by the end of his program then i am dead
i selfishly want him to skate to yuri on ice (like the actual piece, although i can make a whole list of yuri on ice songs i think would suit him) but i don't know if he's a weeb like that
as a dancer, i feel like step sequences is where i'm the least impressed
he would not disappoint though, like everything's so clean? and so emotive?
i feel like he was built for the biellmann, especially the hyperextended and no i'm not taking notes
THE PRETTIEST OUTFITS EVER
if anybody wants to draw fanart of dick in yuzuru hanyu's skating costumes haha
at the end of his program he's going to point towards his family and bow to them ofc
butttttt he may or may not send a particularly smug look in jason's direction
and the wide grin that he has on his face when he's announced the winner is made even wider because he knows that jason's in the stands gnashing his teeth
bonus: fanfic idea? dick x reader pairs event where they grew up skating together
they had crushes on each other but never said anything
they get into a fight because dick wants to quit
but then a few years later he’s like haha wanna compete together?
and reader thinks he’s not taking this seriously and is still mad at him for leaving but brian’s like great! welcome back dick so obviously they’re stuck together now
and of course they have a very…interesting program (tumblr is not letting me add the link but just search up the tessa virtue and scott moir moulin rouge perfrormance)
at first it’s super awkward, dick’s like not even super sure why she’s still acting weird around him, they continue to butt heads
and it all culminates in their free, when they realize that these emotions aren’t just for performance points but actually genuine??
AND THEN THEY KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE
okay that’s all!
i ended up writing it lol
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"Murder is Werewolves" - Batman
I don't got the SPOONS to do this thought train justice, I have seriously been trying to write this thing for MONTHS so just, idk, have this half baked skeletal outline of the essay I guess:
I don't believe that Batman's no-kill rule is primarily about rehabilitation or second chances.
His refusal to believe that Cassandra could have killed someone when she was eight years old because "how could a killer understand my commitment not to kill" is absolute fucking MOON LOGIC from a rehabilitationist standpoint. No jury on the planet would think for even a second that she could reasonably be held accountable for her actions in that situation! Her past cannot condemn her to being incapable of valuing human life under a rehabilitation centering framework. However, Batman's reasoning makes perfect sense if he believes that killing is a spiritually/morally corrupting act which permanently and fundamentally changes a person, and that corruption can never be fully undone.
Dick Grayson killing the Joker is treated both narratively and by Batman as an unequivocally WIN for the Joker. The Joker won by turning Nightwing into a killer. Note that this is during a comic in which the Joker transforming people was a major theme! Batman didn't revive the Joker because the Joker deserved to live; he revived the Joker to lift the burden on Dick.
His appeal to Stephanie when she tried to kill her dad is that she shouldn't ruin her own life. He gives no defense of Cluemaster's actual life. Granted this is a rhetorical strategy moment and should be taken with a generous pinch of salt, but it fits in the pattern.
When Jason becomes a willful killer, he essentially disowns him, never treats him with full trust ever again, and... Well, we can stop here for Bruce's sake. Bottom line is that his actions towards Jason do not lead me to believe that he thinks Jason can become a better person without having his autonomy taken from him, either partially or fully.
The Joker is, for better or worse, the ultimate symbol and vessel of pure, irredeemable evil in DC comics now. He hasn't been just another crook in a long time. He will never get better, he will only get worse. If you take it to be true that the Joker will not or can not rehabilitate, then there's no rehabilitationist argument against killing him.
Batman does not seem to consider it a possibly that he'll rehabilitate. Batman at several points seems to think that the Joker dying in a manner no one could have prevented would be good. Yet Batman fully believes that if he killed the Joker, he himself would become irredeemable.
Batman's own form of justice (putting people into the hospital and then prison) is fucking brutal and clearly not rehabilitative. He disrespects the most basic human rights of all criminals on a regular basis. It is genuinely really, really weird from a rehabilitationist standpoint that his only uncrossable line is killing... But it makes perfect sense if he cares more about not corrupting himself with the act of killing than the actual ethical results of any individual decision to kill or not kill.
In the real world cops are all bastards because they are too violent to criminals, even when that violence doesn't lead to death. Prison is a wildly evil thing to do to another human being, and you don't use it to steal away massive portions of a person's life if your goal is to rehabilitate them. In the comic world, Batman is said to be necessary because the corrupt cops are too nice to criminals and keep letting them out of jail. I don't know how to write a connector sentence there so like I hope you can see why this bothers me so damn much! That's just not forgiveness vibes there Batman!!
I want to make special note here of the transformative aspect. You don't simply commit a single act when you kill, no, you become a killer, like you might become a werewolf.
The narrative supports this a lot!
Why did Supes go evil during Injustice? He killed the Joker. Why did Bruce become the Batman Who Laughs? Bruce killed the Joker. Why was Jason Todd close to becoming a new Joker during Three Jokers? Because he killed people, to include the Joker.
Even if these notions of redemption being impossible aren't the whole of his reasoning (people never have only one reason for doing what they do) it is a distinct through-line pattern in his actions and reasoning, and it is directly at odds with notions of rehabilitation, redemption, and second chances.
So why does he give so many killers second chances?
Firstly because this doesn't apply to all versions of Batman. Some writers explicitly incorporate rehabilitation and forgiveness into his actions. You will be able to provide me with examples of this other through-line pattern if you go looking for them. The nature of comics is to be inconsistent.
Secondly the existence of that other pattern does not negate the existence of this one. People and characters are complex, and perfectly capable of holding two patterns of belief within themselves, even when they conflict to this degree. You can absolutely synthesize these two ideas into a single messy Batman philosophical vibescape.
Finally and most importantly to this essay: he has mercy on killers the same way that werewolf hunters sometimes have mercy on someone who is clearly struggling against their monsterous nature, especially if they were turned in exceptional circumstances or against their will. They understand that they are sick, damned beasts, cursed to always be fighting against themselves and the evil they harbor within. It is vitally kind to help them fight themselves by curtailing their autonomy in helpful ways and providing them with chances to do some good to make up for their eternal moral deficiency.
I think in many comics Batman views killers as lost souls. Battered and tormented monsters who must be pitied and given mercy wherever possible. (The connections to mental health, addiction, and rampant, horrifying ableism towards people struggling with both is unavoidable, but addressing it is sadly outside of the scope of this essay.)
Above all, the greatest care possible must be taken to never, ever let yourself become one of them, because once you have transformed the beast will forever be within you growing stronger.
To Batman, it is the most noble burden, the highest mercy, the most important commandment: Thou shalt suffer the monsters to live.
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sungbeam · 11 months ago
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BIRD HUNT — two
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nonidol!choi line x f!reader
gotham city is a gutter running rampant with the ill, corrupt, and the insane. at times, justice and vengeance must be served by one's own hand... no matter the lengths one must go to do so.
▷ genre, au, etc. bat family au, dc comics inspired, dark, vigilantes au, slow burn, ceo/billionaire au, cat woman!reader, murder mystery au, action, suspense, angst, slow burn-ish?, love square??; choi line inspired by dick grayson (csb), jason todd (cyj), and tim drake (cbg), including bruce wayne for choi minho and damian wayne for nishimura riki, inspired by 2022's The Batman
▷ chapter warnings. swearing, mentions of death and murder, mentions of weaponry, blood, mentions of suicide but no actual act thereof, one suggestive comment
▷ word count. 4.3k // taglist. open
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FILE_02 : behind every man
gotham city.
[three days since your mother was murdered.]
You had no real friends or allies in Gotham City besides your mother and your extended family of stray cats. The metallic smell of blood had begun to cling to the walls after an hour of holding your mother's body close to you.
The police had come when you called.
They deemed it a suicide for simplicity's sake.
When you pointed out the note in a rage, they left it embedded in the wall as it laughed at you. Your hands were covered in your mother's blood like a morbidly crimson finger paint, and the damn cops weren't going to do anything about this. Not for someone like you. Not unless…
Not unless you used what you had in your arsenal.
It was stupid, you had thought at the time. It was an open invitation to get yourself thrown in the ringer by… oh Hell, you shivered so violently, it could be compared to a Magnitude 7 earthquake. No, you could never forgive yourself if you did that—the stupid idea popping into your head. And yet…
You knew that your mother would have never allowed you to sacrifice yourself so vulnerably. (The irony of the matter was that your mother would probably do the exact thing you were considering, had she been in your position.)
But by the third day of not leaving the apartment at all, you had made up your mind.
It was time to go see your father.
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"We're investigating the murder of a mayoral candidate, Yeonjun, not a stripper."
Yeonjun rolled his eyes from where he sat in his armchair, legs crossed neatly over one another and his elbow perched on the armrest. There was a distinct look of boredom on his face as the flames of the fire in the hearth flickered across the sculpted grooves of his features. "Well, I know that. Strippers are more fun."
Soobin pretended he hadn't heard that. He pressed his index finger and thumb to his eyelids with a deep sigh. "So at least one of us has to be present at the company for the Choi-Palmer Merger. And at least one of us has to be present at the meeting with Commissioner Kim about the investigation."
"In unif—"
"In uniform," Soobin confirmed.
Beomgyu sipped his third cup of coffee this morning (it was approximately seven in the morning and he had a brief nap from one to two). There was something so addicting about the bitter taste and the buzz at the back of his head. He didn't feel like himself without it. Definitely not healthy, but he hadn't been healthy for a while. "You say at least one of us for both. So which one needs two of us?"
Yeonjun closed his eyes. "Why can't dad and Riki go?"
Soobin sent him a glare that Yeonjun pointedly ignored. "Because they're out of town? They've been out of town for a week, dude. Where have you been?"
"Serving justice," Yeonjun droned.
It wasn't difficult to sense the tension in the front parlor of the Choi Manor. There was always some sort of tension present, especially between the brothers. Riki never really dealt with it because they all had a soft spot for their half brother, and because Riki was too much like their father, Choi Minho, to care about what other people thought. It was no surprise as to why Riki was the favorite child. Soobin, Yeonjun, and Beomgyu had long since accepted it and wholeheartedly agreed. It was one of the rare few things the Chois could all agree on, actually.
Soobin strived to hold in another sigh. "Okay, fine. Whatever. I'll go meet with Kim to talk about what the Hell's going on this time." He slipped his phone out of his pocket to double check the details of the meeting and where it would take place. Usually, they would be in uniform under the cover of night, but there were exceptions. Plus, corruption nor crime waited for nightfall, so why should they?
Yeonjun nodded as he pushed up from his seat. He stretched his arms over his head, the popping of joints dull yet satisfying. "Cool."
As the two older brothers began to make their way out of the room, Beomgyu bolted upright. "Hey, wait! Who's doing the Palmer Merger?"
"You," Soobin and Yeonjun answered in sync—then promptly gagged to themselves. That was the cringiest thing they could've ever—
"Where the Hell are you going then, Yeonjun? There's no way you would entertain politicians," Beomgyu complained with his arms crossed firmly over his chest. "Even the dead ones."
Soobin's eyes narrowed at the slight dig at himself, but Yeonjun simply waved a flippant, uncaring hand. "I have a hot date."
Soobin scoffed. "With who? Your hand?"
Beomgyu didn't even bother suppressing his giggles of utter delight, especially when Yeonjun sent a look at his younger brothers. "You're both so rude—"
"Whatever you say, old man," Beomgyu jested. He picked his coffee cup up from the table and made his way past his brothers. "Have fun or whatever." As he walked away, his footsteps were so light that even in the hollow hallway, not even the dust stirred. His voice was distant and muffled as he called out for the family's butler and right-hand, Alfred Pennyworth, about what tie might go well with today's soon-to-be successful merger.
While he was away, Soobin clapped a hand on his older brother's shoulder as they too went down the hallway, but traveled further past the grand staircase in the foyer and into the chamber of a small elevator. "You know, Lee would murder you if you called your meeting with his girlfriend a 'hot date.'"
Yeonjun folded his arms over his chest. The elevator carriage began descending deeper into the manor's land to its subterranean levels. He scoffed. "Who said the hot date I was referring to was his girlfriend and not him?"
"Just marry him already," Soobin rolled his eyes, his head shaking.
The elevator came to a smooth stop, the door sliding open to reveal the massive, yawning cavern below the grounds of the Choi Manor. The squeal of bats echoed against the cool, stone walls and the LEDs installed into the ground and in select areas of the cavern roof blinked to life as the two brothers walked past them. It was a generous basement space that acted as headquarters for the family's alter egos as well as housed their vehicles. Beomgyu had called it the "Bat Cave" at one point, to which everyone in the family pointedly disagreed to. Their father was not pleased with it at all, but it had unfortunately yet gradually begun to stick.
Soobin stopped at a doorway that came up just before they would have reached the massive set of computer monitors and controls. He glanced over his shoulder to watch Yeonjun don a pair of matching brown leather gloves as he headed for the garage levels. "Hey."
His brother's split eyebrow quirked upward.
"Stay outta trouble, will ya?"
Yeonjun smirked. "I thought you knew me better than that, Bin."
Soobin huffed a sigh. He really couldn't control his older brother, nor his younger brothers, but he could definitely hope and dream. "At least wear a helmet, dickhead," he shouted after him.
The lights built into the perimeter of the runway shuttered to life as Yeonjun skipped up the steps to his beloved motorcycle. He cooed at his vehicle, hands gently caressing the handlebars and polished metal that he lovingly maintained. "Hi, baby. How we doin'? Can you hear that? He wants me to wear a helmet like you won't protect me."
"Oh my god, he's talking to it again." Soobin turned away from his strange, strange brother. He had much bigger fish to fry than worrying about Yeonjun. Contrary to popular opinion, Yeonjun could unfortunately take care of himself (most of the time).
Soobin pushed into the doorway and into the arsenal chambers. These were lit in dim, blue-white lighting—colors that Yeonjun and Beomgyu detested because of the clear "bias" toward Soobin and their father's uniforms, but Minho had simply rolled his eyes and approved the order for blue and white LEDs. There were separate rooms for uniforms, weaponry, and other gadgets that might be needed while out on patrol, but since this was simply a… conference of sorts, Soobin donned his black and blue uniform, along with the black domino mask fitted over the upper half of his face.
While Yeonjun was partial to his beloved pearl-handled pistols (and things that went BANG BANG, in general), Soobin preferred his escrima sticks—twin batons that were wired with tasers. Hand-to-hand combat and close combat was his specialty, and it was how his father had first taught him to fight. Everyone in the family could fist fight, but some preferred it and some didn't.
Once everything was in place, Soobin headed out to meet with Commissioner Kim about a man's murder. He hoped this wouldn't be a massive waste of his time.
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You had never liked the look of the Iceberg Lounge. Its front door was like a rusted garage, and it was fixed below an active metro line. The train rattled on by every ten minutes or so and blew your hair behind and to the side of you as you monitored the exclusive club across the street from you. You had only ever been to the Iceberg Lounge a couple times, and that had been years and years ago when you had been pint-sized and your mother still acknowledged your father's presence. You wished you could carry on her routine of no longer acknowledging him, but desperate times called for incredibly desperate measures.
There weren't many ways you supposed you could break into the lounge without having to go through the front security. You could probably try to scale the wall to reach that one window way up there…
Or save yourself the trouble by simply going through the front. You sighed, clambering out of your car and making your way over to the front door, where a pair of big bouncers stood stationed outside. There wasn't a line, not when it was still day and there was too much risk of people recognizing other people.
The two men eyed you, and you them. You bet they could manhandle you if they wanted, but you flashed them your ID, and the one on the right lowered his mouth to his communicator. "Capo's daughter is here."
Ah, so he had been keeping an eye on you.
You were granted entry.
The smell of sweat and booze hit you like a massive gust of wind. The men behind you chuckled at the way you gagged, the doors slamming shut behind you. Your eyes shuttered like a camera lens in an attempt to quickly accustom them to the dimmed, blue-white lighting.
There weren't many people around at this time of day. You came upon a balcony railing that looked down to what you assumed to be a dance floor below. Above, you caught the gleam of the upper offices that overlooked the rest of the club with walls made of thick panes of glass. But your destination was further up, and so you made your way to a set of elevators to the left.
If you ventured down to the floors beneath the dance floor, you would find the VIP lounge—the real Iceberg Lounge. You remembered recognizing famous people you'd seen on TV down there before with scantily dressed women hanging off their arms like jewelry.
The elevator carriage brought you up to the top floor that opened up into a penthouse suite. Washed out white light poured through the window at the far wall and shelves of books and manuals and ledgers lined the walkway into the living space. There was a muted jazz tune playing from the record player in the far corner; you never thought your father would listen to jazz, really. He had always been a classical guy when you were young.
"It's been quite a long time—" You whirled around to find a tall, lanky man stepping out from one of the doors on the right side of the room. He wore crisp, black silk clothing, his face sculpted and well-kept. The hair on the back of your neck stood. "—but I suppose the phrase is 'better late than never.'"
You swallowed and steeled yourself. You didn't cry, you really didn't. "Mom—" your voice broke, "—mom's gone. I don't… I didn't know what to do or where to go…"
Your father hushed you as he enveloped you in his hold. You wondered in the back of your mind why he was so cold.
"It's okay, Yn. It's going to be okay."
You didn't cry. You really, really didn't.
But this was your mom. You loved your mom. "She's gone," you croaked into the expensive material of his shirt. "Someone killed her." There was a sort of grit in your voice from the congestion, but you liked to think it was passion.
His hand came up to smooth the hair at the back of your head in a sort of comforting gesture. You would take what you could get at this point. "Then they will pay, Yn. I will find them—you know I can."
You felt as cold as your father's body heat. "Do you know who could have done this?"
"I have ideas," he said quietly.
How was he so calm? You were close to shaking the information from him and going to deal with them yourself. Your father pulled away from you to take a look at your blank face. He placed a hand on your shoulder, guiding you to the sectional and offering you to sit with him.
"You know I have my enemies," he murmured. He leaned against the back cushion, eyes glazing over. "I'm just sorry you and your mother had to suffer because of them."
"Who?"
He glanced at you. "I don't know who exactly—"
"Then give me options." Your voice had steeled again, like your resolve. You swallowed—but you were still just a scared, little girl. You knew your father had enemies, but he had double the amount of connections and triple the power. You would exploit it if it meant bringing your mother the justice she deserved.
"Would you like to help?" That piqued your interest. Your father lifted a hand. "I understand that this is dangerous… this is a dangerous world, but you can be even more dangerous, if only you were given the proper guidance."
Those words… you didn't realize how much they could send a jolt through your veins. You weren't sure if it was good or bad though. But at this moment, it seemed to be what you wanted to hear.
"Could we… could we have a funeral for her?" Perhaps that was one of the only things you wanted. That, and justice. And maybe for your mother to come back.
Your father's eyes shone—with what, you couldn't tell just yet. "Of course, Yn. We can have a funeral. That is a small thing." You wished you had known just how small it was compared to all of the things he would ask of you.
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There was a vintage diner located far from the Choi Enterprise building and far from anyplace anyone would think to find a member of the prestigious family. That was why Yeonjun loved it so much. Plus, the waffles weren't half bad.
A plate of said freshly made waffles had just been placed before him when the bell above the diner door jingled its merry, little tone. He hummed in delight, dancing in his chair a little bit, as he fed himself a chunk of the waffle smothered in melted butter and sweet maple syrup.
"Ooh, that looks so good, Jun."
Yeonjun grinned as another chunk of waffle went into his mouth. He glanced up from his plate only for a second in greeting to his so-called hot dates. "Mhm, she's a beauty."
He dug his fork and knife into the waffle piece, moaning softly with his eyes closed. "Mm-mm! Hear that crunch? Music to my goddamn ears."
Felix Lee rolled his eyes, tongue poking his cheek through an ill-concealed smile. There was a young woman next to him, who was already sliding into the squeaky, red vinyl booth across from Yeonjun. She was pretty—that much Yeonjun knew. After all, he was the one to have introduced his best friend, Felix, to her. It took a lot of courage to give him away like that.
Felix himself was a blond—well, not fully blond, but—wait a second.
Yeonjun shoved his bite into his cheek. His eyebrows furrowed, and he gestured to the tips of Felix's hair. Said tips that were now burned a scarlet red. "It's red."
Felix slid into the booth beside his girlfriend, who most everyone referred to as Nana, and braced his arm over the booth behind her. "Good to know your eyes still work, Choi."
It was always so strange, the contrast between the little nose and freckles to the deep, ass voice. Even after years of knowing him, Yeonjun still did a double take sometimes. He supposed it was good for scaring the shit out of the baddies when they couldn't see his face, and they only heard his voice and felt the sting of his arrowheads.
"Don't give me that, Arrow Boy—"
"Just saying, Red Hoodlum—"
Nana hit the table with her palm. "Hey! Can you bozos wait until I've had coffee before you start your lover's quarrel?"
Yeonjun averted his eyes to his waffle plate, and Felix winced. "Ah, sorry babe." Felix flicked his wrist to signal a waiter. The kid who arrived was the same bored, overworked and underpaid one who had delivered this golden plate of Heaven to Yeonjun. "Can I get a plate of that—" he gestured to the Heaven, "—and two cups of coffee? But both with a bit of milk as well."
"Thank you!" Nana called after the boy after he gave a dull bob of his head in acknowledgement. She then settled her elbows on the shiny, white table and braced her chin on her hands. "How're you, Jun?"
"Great," he replied between bites. "Managed to dip out on company duties and 'good guy' shit—"
"A normal day," Felix added.
Yeonjun lifted a shoulder like a half-hearted shrug. He wasn't about to disagree. "So everything's comin' up—"
"Order up!"
Nana perked up as the waiter kid set down twin mugs of steaming hot coffee. The woman delicately blew over the scalding hot surface while her boyfriend scarfed the shit down like it was water. It was funny, Yeonjun thought as he watched the two of them. So different, yet so similar. Felix was usually quite sunny and polite, like his girlfriend, but sometimes Yeonjun brought out the worst (he liked to think it was their true best) in people. Felix was actually a neighboring city's own watchdog and resident bow and arrow enthusiast, Speedy.
Yeah, Yeonjun loved that name when Felix told him what his vigilante name was. Tch. Speedy. He bet that was exactly how one could describe their experience with him in—
"That's good coffee," Felix said as he set the cup down. Empty. He glanced over at Nana who had just finished stirring in a packet of sugar and took a generous gulp of her drink. "Cheap but good, hm babe?"
"Mm," she hummed in affirmation. She set the mug down. "Okay, okay. Shall we—"
"Here's those waffles." Another plate of Heaven touched down onto the table, was slid over to Nana, and suddenly the words disappeared from her tongue as she indulged in pure goodness.
Yeonjun finished off his first waffle and vaguely gestured in the air with his fork. "I'm starting to think the universe just doesn't want me to find my mom."
Felix shrugged. He turned his head, eyes still looking at Yeonjun, as Nana fed him a fork of waffle. He swallowed, then replied, "Maybe. But it's not like the universe has done you any favors."
"That is so true, my friend."
"Why do you say the universe doesn't want you to find her?" Nana queried between bites.
Yeonjun set his utensils down then drummed his fingers against his chin where he had braced against his palm. "Well, for starters, it keeps interrupting you."
"Well," she emphasized, "you can stop thinking that, because I found a trail."
His breath hitched.
Felix grinned at his friend's reaction, arms holding his girlfriend by her shoulders. "See? Isn't she so good? She's so talented, such a genius."
"Nana Lee—" Yeonjun began.
"Yeonjun, that is not my name."
"Hey, let the man speak! And what do you mean that's not your name?"
"—I love you so much," Yeonjun finished, hands clasped together in prayer. As for whom he was praying to… well, he believed in no god, only himself. And perhaps the woman seated across from him.
Felix narrowed his eyes. "Okay, bro."
"Chill," Yeonjun said with a pointed look. "Nana, please do tell me what lead you have caught and how I may repay you."
Nana shook her head at this. "Oh no, you're not repaying me, Jun. Not for this."
"Oh, come on," he protested. He nodded to his best friend. "Back me up."
Nana sent Felix a sharp look, to which he could only raise his hands in surrender. "Baby says no, I say no."
Yeonjun narrowed his eyes at Felix this time, face twisted into an expression of pure disbelief. "Oh my god, you simp. Every other moment I give you a chance, you're begging me for money."
Felix coughed as Nana's eyebrow flew upward. "I've changed my ways, babe."
"Mhm," she hummed in disbelief, then returned to her waffles. Sometimes Yeonjun wondered how this pairing even worked, and then he realized that he needed to give himself more credit. Because this pairing definitely worked. He suppressed a chuckle to himself, but he knew Felix saw the way his eyes were alight in silent laughter.
Shut up, the blond seemed to say.
And in proper Yeonjun fashion, he smirked. Make me. "So, the lead?"
"Oh, yes. Right." Nana swiped a napkin over her lips. "She was put in witness protection quite a while ago." Yeonjun and Felix paused their squabbles, both of them fully tuning into Nana's findings. "Usually, they don't release such records to the public for obvious reasons, so I don't know much about her new identity."
Yeonjun cocked his head to the side. "Much? So you know something."
"She doesn't live in Gotham," she said. She paused, considering something. "But again, I found a trail. It's faint, but a trail is a trail."
He couldn't agree more. "Send me it when you can."
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Soobin found that domino masks were relatively comfortable. They were definitely more comfortable than the entire cowl thing that his father wore as the Batman, and they didn't make him feel like he was suffocating. The rooftop of the police headquarters allowed for lots of breathing room, so as he inspected the photos of the scene the commissioner had given him, he didn't feel like he was being caged in. Most of the time, he figured out how to shut himself off and to focus on the details and the job. Others… it was a little more difficult.
The man in the pictures had been murdered executioner style with a kill shot to the head at close range. The victim would have been at the mercy of his killer. There was blood spatter on the floor, the walls… all standard stuff. But the most curious thing about the scene was the note that had come with it.
"Hey." Soobin lifted his head up from the folder and pictures. A figure in lean, armored red and black touched down onto the roof with his grappling hook, feet as light as a feather. Beomgyu also had a domino mask fitted to his face to hide his identity. He made his way toward his brother, his black cape moving with his footsteps. "What'd he give you?"
Soobin shifted the images slightly so Beomgyu could tilt his head and see for himself. "That was quick."
"Yeah, Palmer didn't fuckin' show up," Beomgyu grumbled.
Soobin clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Guess we can say bye to him, then."
He grunted. "We better. If he comes crawling back, you're dealing with him because I'm not wasting another nicely ironed suit again for that idiot. Or Alfred's time, for that matter."
Soobin could get behind that.
"What the fuck's that?" Beomgyu picked up the photocopy of the note.
Right. That. It was a simple piece of paper, but with the words "A Debt Repaid" typed in large letters and basic sans serif font. There was a bit of the victim's blood on it, but that was expected. The note had been dusted for prints, but as expected, none were lifted. Based on this, it might have been a crime of passion, especially since this mayoral candidate would have made lots of political enemies. But looking at the method of death, there was something still detached about it.
Majority of the signs pointed to an assassin—a skilled killer of sorts, probably for hire. What Soobin couldn't hit the mark with was why? A Debt Repaid, was the supposed "explanation." But why? Who decided this man had offended someone so badly that he deserved to die? Soobin didn't like researching politicians, but politicians were so easy to dig up shit on. And if they deserved it (as most did), finding the shit and exposing them for it was always a job well-done in his books.
Justice, after all.
"A note from the killer," Soobin said plainly.
Beomgyu considered it for a moment. "Why does it look familiar to me?"
His brother turned to him. "Huh?"
"It just looks familiar for some reason. Maybe déjà vu or something," he dismissed with the flick of his hand.
"Mm." Soobin stared at the lifeless eyes of the mayoral candidate. His name was Lee Sungjae. He had a wife, three children, a house in the suburbs. And he was dead.
Guess he had some research to do. Soobin balked though; he really didn't like politicians.
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zaceouiswriting · 2 years ago
Text
The Master of Fulfillment
Character: Jason Todd (Wayne) x male reader, Dick Grayson (Wayne) x male reader
Universe: Somewhere in DC
Warnings: Smut, degrading, slurs, cuckolding, Master/Slave, choking
Read it with the thought that Dick and Jason aren't adopted brothers but blood brothers, which makes it all the more intense.
It was an odd sight. Jason and I come to this cafe almost every day as his work takes up most of his time, and it's right across the street from his workplace. My work is easy and gives me a lot of time. It mostly means that I'm constantly alone without my loving boyfriend. At this point, I can't even recall seeing him naked for more than five minutes or him bending me over for more than a moment.
The saddest part? I wasn't even mad about it. Because a quicky with him is really... quick. Not only is it dissatisfying, but it also makes me feel a kind of angry resentment. Since the first few months of our relationship, he hasn't taken the time to make me cum just by fucking me like he used to. He promised it would be a short thing, but three years have passed, and nothing has changed.
We've been drifting apart for a while because he just doesn't seem to care anymore. Sometimes I think he's aware of it, but then again, he doesn't change it. That's probably what annoys me the most. For a few months now, I don't even give him a quickie without rolling my eyes in annoyance. He stopped asking about it, which obviously made him unhappy as well. Yet, still no change.
I lost my sex drive a long time ago. Or I thought so. Because the strange sight, which is completely different from any other visit we have made here, makes me feel things I haven't experienced in a long time. A tight-fitting shirt, bulging arms big enough to crush my head if they want to. An obviously well-trained chest and an eight-pack under the cloth. But the most important thing besides his perfectly square face and impeccable haircut? His damn tight pants. With a nice firm butt. But the most cloth hugs, his massive bulge. It looks at least twice as big as Jason's. I could immediately feel jealousy rising in me for the person lucky enough to be the partner of this god.
I can feel my own pants tightening. I had to take my eyes off this man made of pure sex.
Logically it shouldn't be a strange sight to see a cop, not even a handsome one, at a coffee shop, but he was strangely alone. Usually, they are never alone buying coffee or something to eat for all their colleagues.
I've tried to ignore his existence, but every now and then, my eyes would wander to him, his well-built body, and whenever he shifted his stance, I would stare straight at his massive bulge. He's been there a lot longer than he should have been. But who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth?
Just as I was thinking about it and staring at the back of his head, he suddenly turned around with a scowl plastered over his face, but as soon as our eyes met, his face strangely relaxed. But soon, his eyes wandered up and down my seated body. I could only feel like a piece of meat under his gaze. A grin appeared out of nowhere on his devilishly handsome face, showing off his perfect pearly white teeth and, in particular, two sharp upper teeth.
A bright red blush appeared on my face, so apparent that even Jason couldn't miss it. "Are you all right, babe? Are you sick?” he asked worriedly. He even went so far as to stand up, leaning slightly toward me, and to put his rough, warm hand on my forehead to take my temperature.
His loving touch made me sick. "Maybe you should go and splash some cold water in your face? It might help,” he told me softly but firmly. There's something strange in his eyes, but I can't quite put my finger on what. Somehow I feel compelled to do as he told me. But before I could leave - shortly after I got up - he pulled me in a quick, smooth movement, very close to him. He definitely could feel my hard cock on him. But he ignored it. Instead, he kissed me deeply. He even went so far as to stick his tongue in. His love is on full display.
For a second, he felt like old Jason, the high school football captain I fell in love with, so rough and domineering. But as soon as we parted, he shyly looked away. My stomach turns with disgust.
Without saying another word, I walk away from him without looking at him again. But the cop - I daydreamed so much - got a look from me. Why? I have no idea. Surprisingly, he already looks at me with hunger in his dark blue eyes and lets them run over my body again before I finally disappear into the bathroom.
I lean against the closed door, breathing heavily. Why does this man make my heart beat so fast? Why was my body sweating so much? And why can't I answer any of these questions?
For a moment, I was so lost in my own thoughts that I forgot this was an open toilet. Quickly, before someone tries to open it and maybe knocks me over, I move away from the door.
I'll go over to the sink, open the water, and splash it in my face as Jason told me to. But why am I doing what he told me? Maybe it was the tone of his voice… so demanding it felt like old Jason.
I shook my head, knowing better. He's gone soft. Too soft.
I remember Jason standing over me in the locker room after one of his team members fucked me for the first time. Jason was so jealous. He was so deliciously rough. He treated me brutally. He didn't care if I got bruises from his treatment. Once, he even gave me a black eye. I vividly remember cumming hard that night: no one else could make me cum like this.
A strange feeling on my face snapped me out of my head the second time. Glancing slightly up in the mirror, I discover a single frustrated tear. But at that moment, I realized something: I still love this soft idiot.
I need to talk to him to find out what's changed! Just as I turned around, the door to the restrooms suddenly opened, startling me a little. For a second, I think it might be Jason to fulfill a long-forgotten sexual fantasy of his. But when I could see the blue of a police officer's uniform, a certain sadness came over me. However, this feeling only lasted a second before a strange excitement came over me.
Confused as to what to do, I rush to the urinals. I quickly pull my pants open and get my cock out. Nervously I tried to pee, but nothing came out. Even though I could feel my bladder filling up out of nowhere, I couldn't let a drop out.
The intimidating footsteps of the cop only make it worse. I hope he would walk down as far as possible. Best at the other end of the room. I decided to keep my eyes closed and pray; until I could no longer hear his footsteps. Despite all this, he came to stand right next to me.
Suddenly my heart started beating faster again. Frightened, I open my eyes only to glance sideways and see the intimidating statue of this muscular mountain of a man. But his eyes were forward and closed just like mine a second ago.
He deftly undid his fly without looking and fished something out, seeming to have some difficulty with it, commenting with annoyed little noises. The depth of his voice shocked me to my core. I look up for just a moment at his sharp, masculine features. But even from the bottom corner of my eye, I could see beige skin sticking out of the front of his pants.
And when my eyes noticed whatever it was, my mouth went dry. "Fuck!" I exclaimed loudly. Involuntarily I would like to add! It was just a reaction.
Even after I could hear a deep laugh, I couldn't take my eyes off this huge hunk of meat. His cock is thicker than my wrist and even limp as long as Jason's hard cock. Jason isn't small by any measurement, but this cop's cock is on another level.
But nothing could intimidate me like the sudden powerful jet of water that this man let out, completely occluding my bladder. It's so aggressive that I know he's doing it to intimidate me even further. And it's an eternity before he finally shakes off with a deep, low, satisfied groan.
He pulls back his foreskin and waves it to get the last drops out. But even then, he didn't pack it up again. Instead, he stroked it lazily. It scared me. Not because it wasn't damn hot to see this man do something like that, but because he might notice me staring at him.
A quick glance upwards is enough to see that he is looking down at me. The hunger in his eyes is darker now. "So you're a fag?" he asks with a malicious grin. He seems to know exactly what he's doing. Because for some reason, I could feel some kind of lust tightening in my stomach or wherever.
He boldly steps back from the urinal and holds his semi-hard cock in his massive hand, which would take him at least two more to completely enclose his cock. My eyes widened at the realization that this man wants me, not only wants me but might even want to destroy me, considering his... question.
“I-I-“
"Don't be shy," he mused. He comes closer with his feet straight and pushes me further back. "Touch it," he commanded me. Although his voice sounded sweet, I could feel the pressure of authority pressing on me.
Before I know it, I hold out my shaking hand. Soon I'm touching the fat cock head and feeling a wetness on it. The urge to try it rose in me. But I couldn't! I have a boyfriend! That thought, thankfully, brings me back to my senses. I quickly try to withdraw my hand. But before I can do that, something inside me stops my movements for some reason. I look up anxiously and look the officer straight in the eyes. He angrily stares down at me.
"I see you want more, don't you? Greedy little fagot!” His dark, murderous eyes are now paired with an equally sinister laugh that startles me so much I stumble backward. I almost fall to my knees from sheer weakness. "Get on your knees!" he suddenly orders me.
“Wha-“
"I'm not repeating myself!" he growled right in my face.
"I-I can't! I ha-have a boy-boyfriend!” My teeth are chattering from fear.
All he does is mock me. "You mean that guy out there? The one you flinched from when he touched you? Can't he satisfy a whore like you? Is he that pathetic?”
A sudden surge of caution washes over me. Finally free of this moment, I pull my hand away, even though I mentally curse myself for it. "It's not like-"
"You already cheated on him just because I took out my obviously bigger cock. It's only a matter of time how long it will be before you're begging to take it up your little bitch hole!"
He grins down at me so arrogantly that I immediately believe he is the case and then some. I don't seem to be his first victim of lust. That much is clear. But if you look like him, are built like him, and have a cock like him? Who can blame him for using it to his advantage? I would do the same if I were in his place.
A thick, awkward silence falls over us for a long moment. He just stares, seemingly trying to understand me. But then his face suddenly twists into pure disappointment. Tightened, he clicked his tongue dismissively. Right before me, he tucks his monster cock back into his pants and pulls up his fly. He gives me one last dissatisfied look before turning around.
Suddenly a pang of disappointment comes over me. But why? Is it because a man like him wants me? Do I want to please him? Do I want to please him more than being faithful to my loving boyfriend?
Everything goes so fast, and all these thoughts shoot through my head within seconds of him turning around. He only took two heavy steps, and it is impossible not to miss him. Even his footsteps showed a tremendous amount of authority. They are so powerful that I wish he would step on me.
At that moment, my mouth opens: "Stop!" I call after him, out of breath. For a moment, I did not realize that I'd said anything.
Before I know it, my back hits a wall so hard it takes my breath away. It was hard to focus again. But when I finally managed to come back, a broken moan escaped my lips. A massive hand gripped my throat and cut off my windpipe. But I don't care. After all, it's this man. His eyes were even darker than before.
His mouth opens, and he even says something, but the only thing I can focus on is his hand which I wish would beat me red and blue. I've never seen so many veins in a hand or forearm as he does.
From one moment to the next, my ears start ringing as my head flies to the side. For a second, I feel like a star hit me - literally.
"Are you back, bitch?" he asks smugly. He seems to know that everything about him makes me lose focus.
As pathetic as I am right now, I try to talk, but all that comes out is a choked sound. At that moment, I realize that his hand is still around my neck. So I nod submissively.
"Good," he says, still as smug as before, "because now you're going to listen to me carefully, understood?" Again I nod. "We don't have time for all the fun, so I'm going to turn you around, get you ready for a moment, and then fuck you stupid, got it?"
Unable to do anything else, knowing I'll do anything to feel his hand on me and not wanting to disappoint him again, I nod. Still grinning, he takes his hand from my throat. Instead, he cups my chin between his thumb and index finger. Carefully, gently he slaps my face. 
"Good boy," he whispers huskily in my ear.
Never in my life has my cock become as hard as it is at this moment. I squirm under his intense gaze. His callous hands trail down to my chest. So out of fear, I close my eyes, enjoying his full attention, only to be carelessly grabbed and thrown around. I soon find my face crushed against the disgusting white tiles of the bathroom.
He presses close to my back. I can feel his hardening cock poking against it. This man is just too big... in all regards. But he doesn't let that bother him. Instead, he uses the big body size difference to masturbate with my lower back.
His head is so close and yet, so far away that he has to bend down to let his breath tickle the hairs on the back of my neck and the fine hairs on my ears. For a second, I think he's going to kiss me. His lips are this close to my skin. "Are you clean?" he asks suddenly.
Confused by this question, I try to turn my head to look askance at him. Before I can do that, though, he pushes my head back to where he wants it. I fearfully gasp for air. "Yes," I answer him. Hoping he means if I'm healthy.
An intrusive feeling snaps me out of my thoughts as I feel a long finger poking through the crack in my ass. My eyes shoot down in shock. My pants are on the floor, around my ankles. How did he do that? I neither felt nor heard anything. I didn't even feel the cold breeze around my bare legs like I do now!
"And your hole, bitch?" His breathing gets ragged, hopefully with excitement, as mine does.
It feels so personal, too much, if I'm being honest. On the other hand, I'm standing in front of him half-naked, ready to take anything he wants to give me, just like the slut he thinks I am. And I can't even blame him for that. Then that's precisely how I'm behaving in this moment.
"I-I never ga-gave up my special diet," I choke out as his finger circles my tight hole. I realize how much I need a real man to touch me there and use my hole like it's his.
"Hmm..." he hummed contentedly. "What a good boy you are," he muses again, the smug grin evident in his voice.
As he calls me that again, my resolve shatters. My knees give out. Before I can move too much, though, his hands are on my waist. "Don't worry, I've got you," he murmured, "you're not the first whore to go weak in the knees. Although it usually doesn't happen until they find out how long my tongue is."
I'm gasping for air, confused as to what he could mean. But suddenly, his head is gone. Even more confused, I gather all my strength and press my hands against the wall to get my head off it. I can barely move my head, but my eyes immediately take in what is happening. This god of a man crouches behind me, his head level with my butt.
"Nice ass, I'll give you that," he says absently. With his hands, he kneads my perfectly round ass cheeks. A slap ripped a big moan out of my throat. "A perfect jiggle." At this point, he's just mumbling. He smacks my ass a few more times, though.
Until his voice suddenly gets even lower, with which he says a single word after a particularly hard slap on my ass: "Fuck".
Both together lead me to the most humiliating experience that I have ever happened to me in my entire life. With no warning or ability to stop it, I groan loudly.
It would certainly have been less humiliating if it hadn't snapped the cop out of his horny trance.
"Are you really that needy, bitch? Well, then maybe we should start?” 
Of course, that's not a question because only a second later, I feel his wet tongue on my hole. It's not hard for the tip to break through, considering his fingers have already made me pretty loose.
But he quickly pulls out the tip of his tongue just to lick my hole up and down, teasing it with the tip only to give it a big lick again. Honestly, he has driven me crazy within seconds. With my arms flat against the wall and my head banging against it, I let him do as he pleases.
He pays more attention to my needs than Jason has in years. For years he just fucks me until he's done and then leaves. But this cop? A man I've never met before - I might add - really knows what he's doing, like a pro.
I should soon find out what he meant by the comment about his long tongue because everything in his regard seems to be... extraordinary. I even believe that his tongue alone could get into my stomach. Of course, it can't. But he reaches in extremely far and covers my insides with his spit. He even goes as far as to spit deep inside me once or twice. Preparing me to take his monster cock without lube.
The once cool tiles no longer comfort me. The officer's hot, wet tongue gives me pleasure like no one has before. Not even Bryan, who before the officer was the best fucker I've ever had. And the officer still has to give me what I really want. What I desire, since I have noticed him.
But apparently, he won't give it to me without a fight. Because all he does is please me with his powerful tongue.
Soon, however, even the thoughts that, not so long ago, fill me with fear and disappointment in myself for giving myself to another man and the desire to please him.
All I can do now is fixate on the tongue deep in my greedy hole. The bumps on his tongue massaged my sensitive insides. But what really gets me going is the flexibility of his tongue. Suddenly, he rolls his tongue and uses it like an icebreaker to penetrate me even deeper.
For a second, my mind is blank. When I come to, I'm lying flat against the wall, a hand behind my back holding me tighter against it while an arm around my knees keeps me upright. I can feel the arrogant smirk on my butt, but at this point, I know he's right. I might not like it, but he's a sex god who can turn even something as simple as a rim job into a feast of pleasure.
The tingling sensation of his tongue going deep into areas previously reserved for cocks is just too nice. His tongue is obscene, as are the moans he can filter out of me. I'm already on cloud nine… no, wait, cloud eleven. He gets me high just through my lust.
My brain is so slow I don't feel his tongue leave my hole and gape like a fish out of water. It even takes a moment before he realizes he's spitting in, only to have his long fingers push it in deeper. And it takes even longer before I realize he's talking to me.
I slowly take in his words and somehow find the strength to turn my head slightly. I look at him with blurred eyes, the area around his lips shows a slight reddishness, but it's almost imperceptible.
"I don't think I can do it," I murmur almost silently.
"But a really good boy would do that for his man."
“You aren-“
"Do I have to punish you?" His voice suddenly drops again, and his eyes, which gleam with lust, are filled with anger and disappointment.
With new tears forming in my eyes, I shake my head. It puts back a smug smile on his full lips. "Good," he says before he takes my hand and puts it on his crotch.
Why he wants me to undo his fly again is beyond me, and with my shaking hand, it's no easy task anyway. It takes a while before I can even get my hands on it and even longer before I can open it. But the man doesn't care. He's patiently waiting for me to obey his commands like I'm his whore.
He still helps my hand reach into his pants and leans forward again before I can pull him out. So I can only jerk him off a little over his underwear. "I've never seen a fag like you, who is more like a whore than a regular fag and is falling apart so damn easily. You haven't even tasted my...dick." The last word lingered for a while, seductively.
One moment he's praising me, and the next, he's demeaning me, but unfortunately, both kind of turn me on. I've never bothered with either of them before have only done them to my partners, but now with him? With this man? I want to hear it from him, over and over again, both. Maybe it's his soothing, authoritative voice or his body and what he represents.
“I-I-“
"Try not to think too much," he says, still smugly. "I'm going to fuck you now whether you like it... or not. You asked me to do it, so I'll do it, and if I like your sweet little hole, I might make it mine."
A thousand things go through my mind, but mostly Jason, my faithful, loving boyfriend, who's still at the cafe...alone...waiting for me, and I'm here, with another man, no. .. a real man, someone who can give me what I need. "I can-"
Just as I begin to speak, a sudden pressure is applied to my not yet opened wide enough hole. The pain races through my body, but my mind is too busy to react immediately. On the other hand, the man behind me is more than ready. Before I know it, a hand blocks my mouth, and another arm pulls both of my hands behind my back and holds them there, just to be safe, I suppose.
"Now be a good little boy and scream!"
Without a second thought, the officer rammed into me. It overwhelms me. It feels like he's splitting me in half. While at the same time not giving me much time to understand what he's doing. Then, just a moment after ramming as much as he could into me, he pulled back completely. Every sound I want to make gets stuck in my throat. I just couldn't get it out.
I can feel an intense gaze on the back of my head. With his head far away from mine, his deep voice suddenly roared, "I told you to yell for me, you stupid fag!" After saying this, the officer, annoyed at my uncooperative, aims and rams his massive dick back into my hole.
Finally, muffled screams echo through the room, and tears run down the officer's rough, large hand. Almost as soon as those painful screams come from me, I hear a loud moan of satisfaction behind me.
"You're a lot tighter than I thought...Your boyfriend is even more pathetic than I thought...Shit, so fucking tight!"
Even though he's using me like a fucking toy and doesn't seem to care how much pain he's causing me, I admit it's exactly what I need. I might not be able to walk for a few days and perhaps even bleed because the cop suddenly opens my tight hole so wide. But I already know I'll be needing something like this more often. I would prefer it if he never pulled his cock out again.
I'm so far gone after he pushes himself back inside me that my screams soon become bubbling noises.
Almost as if he's waiting for something like this to happen, he removes his hand from my mouth without breaking his rhythmic movements. "Did you try to say something?" he asks smugly. His breathing is even as if this is something normal to him. Remembering his massive, muscular physique and thinking that he's not just a gym rat but an athlete through and through gives me my answer to my unasked question. Somehow it made this situation even more erotic.
"Roem, a ened erom," I tell him. Everything is right in my head, and I tell him I need more. But when I hear my own words, I am deeply embarrassed.
He chuckles darkly, knowing as well as I do that he's already broken me after just a few moments of him fucking me. Suddenly, a strange, unfamiliar glow appears in his eyes. Just as it appears, he forcibly turns my head and pulls it back, arching my back. As he smiles down at me, terror courses through my veins. Whatever's going on in his head, it can't be good.
Suddenly something wet hits my face. Barely able to open one of my eyes, I see that his smile has grown, and a string of spit is hanging out of his mouth. Shocked and disgusted, all I could do was gape at him.
But he seems to take this as an invitation, so he quickly slaps his hand on my cheek and massages his spit into my skin, two fingers even wiping a bit into my mouth.
Unable to comprehend what is happening, I close my mouth around his fingers and lick them like an obedient whore.
“Fuck!“
His hand on my face suddenly pushes my head down while his other arm pulls me back. Thinking he wants to bend me over and press me against the wall, I move as much as possible to help him with my aching body.
But to my utmost shock, he goes even further. Instead of against the wall, he presses my head close to the bottom of the toilet, into which he has just urinated without flushing. I can smell the strong smell. He almost pushed me in. But I can barely get my hands on the toilet to prevent that.
I choke on the disgusting stench and almost throw up. The officer keeps me there even after hearing about it. "You'd do anything to get that cock back, wouldn't you?" he asks menacingly. Even without hearing anything else, I'm split: on the one hand, I would do anything to feel him again. On the other hand, I have my own pride. And I don't like that shit.
So I gather all my strength to draw a line. I cling to the toilet with an effort, undeterred by his powerful attempts to push me back down.
It takes a while, but once I move away from that smell, I grab onto the top of the toilet and turn my head. "Fuck you!" I tell him in a moment of clarity.
"Feisty." He's not even confused by my sudden action, which confuses me more than anything else. "I like it. A tight fucking hole, handsome, and not easy to bend." After that, there's a long pause, but I can see he's about to say something else. "Then come here and see how much punishment you can endure!"
It's the only form of warning before he pulls me flat against his massive chest, lifts me in the air, grabs me in odd places, and twists me with his monster cock inside me. When I finally get a close look at him, he's pinning us against the wall, with both of my legs resting on his left shoulder because of my pants binding them together and staring down into my eyes.
Not long after, I realize that his warning is no idle threat. He starts pounding me like a beast without breaking eye contact. Even though he's the most handsome man I've ever seen, I didn't feel like kissing him like Jason... Jason does. Shit, I'm cheating on my loving boyfriend.
When the man sees something is wrong, he pushes me harder against the wall. "Don't think about that loser. I'm fucking you, not him! Remember this!"
With that, he goes all in and even starts to sweat a bit. But that doesn't last long as all the pressure of the moment finally takes hold of me. My sensitive cock starts moving, and the officer has to hit me only one more time to make me cum again. This time, however, I scream Jason's name loudly.
But deep anger comes over him when he hears Jason's name slip from my lips. He starts to brutally fuck my hole, which makes my head go blank.
When I come to, the officer slumps on top of me, my hole drenched with his cum.
"You c-came inside me?" I ask him, my fear evident in my voice.
"Of course," he says smugly, "your hole is mine now!"
As if to make his point even clearer, he quickly pulls himself out of my sore hole, sets me down on the floor, and kicks me in the back of my knees, causing me to fall on top of her. I look up at him in confusion in my delirium. Before I could ask what he's doing, he opened my mouth slightly with his thumb. Still confused, I just let him do what he wants. But as the saying goes, if you give some people a hand, they take your entire arm.
Before I know it, he's cramming his first five or six inches down my throat, not without my teeth scraping his skin because of the surprise.
Thankfully, when I look up at him in shock, he doesn't look unhappy. More smug than anything. "Yeaaaah...uhh...oh damn! This hole is mine too!” he says firmly, not caring if I want it... or not. He simply decides for me.
At this point, I don't want to mention Jason anymore or think of him for fear of being punished again. "Clean that damn cock up, fagot!" He grins down at me. It makes me weak enough to see past what he just did. So push him back slightly to get a little control. With both hands, I lightly jerk his semi-hard cock, sucking his cock head clean and licking the rest of his monster clean as well.
When I look up again after cleaning him fully and dropping his cock, I see a happy glow in his eyes.
“Put it back in!“ 
Without further inquiry, I did as I was told, taking his now limp cock - still massive - and shoving it back into his pants, pulling his underwear over them, and pulling his fly back up. I place my hands on his large thighs for a second longer to catch my breath.
As I breathe, one of his large hands caresses me almost lovingly. His smugness is now completely gone. "Don't cry. Isn't it as bad as you might think," he told me cryptically. "Open your mouth."
This time I'm more reserved and only stare at him. He quickly realizes I won't do what he told me to do. He rolled his eyes, grabbed the back of my head, and pulled my hair. For a second, it hurt so bad that I opened my mouth involuntarily. He quickly stuck two fingers in and put something in my mouth.
I try to bite him, but he pulls his fingers out fast enough. As I glare at him, his smug smile is back. "Don't worry," he waved dismissively, "It's just a peppermint." Still, after telling me that, he gets dangerously close to me again. His smug grin turns predatory again. "You don't want your useless little friend smelling a real man on your breath, do you?"
His words hit all the right spots. He knows my guilt and bathes in it like a psychopath.
I push myself away from him, and instead, I crash into the tiled wall, not hard enough to hurt myself, but my dignity was injured nonetheless.
"Next time, I don't want to feel teeth on my cock, got it... bitch?"
He doesn't wait for an answer before going to the sink, washing his hands, and exiting the toilet without a backward glance.
He left me here...alone, with my face in my hands. Finally, the realization of what I've done comes into its own. How could I do that? Jason loves me, and I-I love him too. This will destroy him!
Though sadness overwhelms me, I somehow stand up. To do this, though, I put my hands on the side of the urinal to use as leverage, as my legs were more jelly than anything. Standing isn't any better, my whole back hurts like hell, and my ass is on fire. Somehow, however, I manage to get back to the sink.
When I see my reflection in the mirror, I'm not shocked to see myself completely disheveled. After all, my whole body just got destroyed by this arrogant fucking cop so annoyingly smug... I want to... fucking punch him in the face!
As my anger mounts, I realize it's my fault. A desperate sigh escapes my lips. I activated the water, splashed more water on my face, and cleaned up as best I could in a cafe toilet.
I could remove almost all the accumulated visible sweat and even save my hair to a certain extent. Only the redness on my face and slightly swollen eyes still told me something had happened.
I wait another minute, just hoping I don't seem too suspicious. When I'm happy enough with how I look, I walk to the toilet door and open it with a trembling hand to confront the man I love and just betrayed.
Extra:
Jason is happily sitting at our table while doing something on his phone. When I walk towards him or limp, he thankfully doesn't sense my presence until I've reached him and already sat down again.
"Are you all right again?"
Why is he ignoring my obviously different appearance? I look all messed up, and he doesn't react at all! Somehow it makes me angry. Is he even looking at me?
Suddenly he focuses on one point. As my gaze wanders to this point, terror fills my veins; A fucking semen stain, already crusted. But Jason just pulls out a tissue, looks around, and pulls my shirt up slightly to carefully clean my stomach. I can only sit there in horror.
“I-I can ex-explain I-„
Jason gives me a bright smile and just shakes his head. Which immediately silences me.
I can only wait until he's ready to talk and embarrassedly enjoy the attention he's giving me. I haven't felt this good in years! Even if the overshadowing feelings of guilt are getting stronger.
Even after he let my shirt drop, he's still smiling.
“I really need to tell-“
"Jason!" a sudden voice calls out to my boyfriend. One that I know only too well because a few minutes ago, the voice humiliated me and, at the same time, made me feel like a worthy sexual partner.
As I feel the blood drain from my face, I can only watch in horror as the same cop comes to our table, ruffles Jason's hair like he's done it a million times, and sits beside me, putting his arm too close for comfort.
He grins at me, making it painfully clear that something has happened between us.
"How do you know each other?"
With his still smug smirk, the cop switched between Jason and me before focusing on my boyfriend. "He's my little brother. I still can't believe he never told you about me. After all, we hang out together all the time!”
As soon as the words that his dirty mouth uttered registered in my brain, I almost fainted.
“Bro-Brother?“ I ask both men for clarification.
“Yeah,“ Jason admitted in a lowered voice.
Again the cop looks back and forth between Jason and me and can obviously sense the awkward atmosphere around us increasing as best I can feel it.
"Well, nice to finally meet the 'perfect guy' as Jason always flaunts you to me. But I have to go,” he tells us loudly, only for him to lean against me. "Remember, I like you tight," he whispers in my ear while his hand presses softly against my throat again.
But the moment breaks just as quickly as it has come. Jason's brother gets up and walks away, leaving me speechless.
"We can talk about this in the car," Jason says suddenly.
Tears well up in my eyes in a whirlwind of emotions. I don't want to let them fall in public, so I plainly nod. Oddly enough, Jason takes my hand and lovingly draws circles on the back.
But I'm far gone in my head. I now fully realize the gravity of what I've done. Maybe he could have forgiven me for cheating on him if it was some random guy, but his brother?
With a heavy stomach - that almost makes me throw up at our favorite coffee shop - Jason leads me straight to his car. He carefully helps me into the passenger seat and brushes a few strands of hair out of my face. Out of nowhere, he plants a nice, long kiss on my forehead.
I know, Jason! He's not so stupid that he didn't recognize the situation. So why is he still so loving?
It doesn't look like I'll be getting an answer to my silent question any time soon. Because as he gets into the car, he starts it and drives off. I have never experienced such silence, heavy and suffocating.
“I met Bryan again over two years ago.“
When he suddenly starts speaking, I jump a little. Maybe even a high-pitched squeak came out of my throat.
Jason doesn't even give me a sideways glance. He just starts talking again. "By that point, I could already sense that you were no longer sexually happy with me. I asked him if we could have a beer in the evening, and when we met, I asked him how he could keep you happy for so long. He was uncomfortable talking about it because he is actually married now after getting his girlfriend pregnant. But I got it out of him, and...let's just say it wasn't what I wanted to hear."
If someone had told me that my first ex could tear my whole world apart, even if we parted on good terms or as I thought it was on good terms, I wouldn't have believed it. But here I am, fighting against the only guy stupid enough to tell anyone's boyfriend stuff like that.
I gently place my hand on Jason's leg and try to get him to look at me so I can explain, but he doesn't react.
"I always thought I could be the guy you want and need. Maybe I'm the guy you want but not the guy you need. I felt insecure before speaking to Bryan because our sex life had already dwindled, but from what he told me, I felt... inadequate. And how could I not? His cock is huge... he showed me a picture. But the worst? That he could be something I can never be. A master."
My cheeks burn with embarrassment. Jason and I, of course, talked about our preferences. But I never mentioned my greatest. Yes, in the beginning, Jason was a dominant male, but around the same time, I realized it was just a facade. But I was willing to do anything to be happy with him.
“But Jason, I love you and what I did is not-“
"For once in your life, can you shut up?" He yells, gazing into my eyes angrily. I wanted to say something, and he could see that. "I set you up!"
“W-What?“
"I set you up with my brother," he finally admits. "He stopped by two weeks ago when you weren't there. I've been thinking about breaking up with you to give you a chance to find someone you need. All my ex-boyfriends have cheated on me with my brother at some point. He always told me beforehand. But this time? After he reminded me of the love you and I share? I-I asked him to be the one to give you what you need.”
"I don't understand." I'm breathless. I couldn't breathe! What's wrong with me?"
Jason doesn't seem to be doing any better, however. "I asked him to wear the most tight-fitting uniform he has, knowing he would draw your attention. Afterward, he told me that if we both had healthy sex lives, you would never have considered his advances. But he could tell you were starving for brutal sex.” 
It must be difficult for him to admit his deepest worries. Because now I'm just someone who chose his brother over him.
“He's actually in to make this into something regular. And I have already agreed.”
"W-What? Don't I have a say in that too?” I ask him perplexed.
"I'm your boyfriend! That is never going to change! But I can't dominate you as much as you need to. It's the other way around... actually. I want you..."
His last words hang in the air like a lifeline. Yet I cannot really comprehend what he is revealing. A plot to cheat on him, but not to cheat him, but what for? Strengthen our relationship? Or getting me also into a relationship with his brother?
“What does all of this mean, Jason?“
He took a deep breath and took my hand into his again. He looks straight into my confused eyes. "My brother will be your only lover. And I want you to be dominant in bed with me."
I'm stunned, and it will probably take me a moment to really understand what he's saying. This is why we continue driving in silence until we arrive in the underground car park of our apartment building and come to a stop. Where everything suddenly hits me like a rock.
“Jason?“
“Yes, my love?“
“Are you a cuckold?“
It seems I hit the hammer on the head because his frozen reaction, unable to meet my gaze, speaks volumes.
"So you want to watch me get utterly destroyed by your own brother?" The question hangs heavily in the air.
“I-I don’t-I-“
"It sounds really... hot. I can imagine him fucking me silly while you stare at me with jealousy, and my face is contorted with ecstasy... I can imagine us doing that.”
I must have shocked Jason to the core because he fell silent. But he still holds my hand tightly in his. However, that didn't stand with me. I aggressively pull my hand out, stunning him even more.
Without saying a word, I get out of the car, walk around it and yank open his car door. He looks at me so perplexed that I want to cuddle with him and apologize.
“Get out!“ I order him.
He looks at me with wide eyes, a kind of pleasure in them, still trying to understand what I'm doing.
"Eyes down and follow me. You don't touch or look at me, understand?” Jason nods submissively. Grinning, I cup his face in my hands and give him a small kiss on his lips. Only to slap him in the face the next second with a cold expression on his face. He shudders under my gaze and quickly lowers his eyes.
I have a sinking feeling that this agreement will not go as planned. But for now, I'll try to make Jason happy.
[Masterlist]
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batmanisagatewaydrug · 1 year ago
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fuck it we're liveblogging Batman '66
black list "#66 time" right now if you don't want to see this because god. there's going to be so much.
ep 1x01: Hi Diddle Riddle
"Makenzie you never included the episode titles when you were doing Gotham" yeah man but the 66 episodes make little rhyming couplets and I want you to experience the whimsy with me
I think all the time about the way that Burt Ward was fully married with a child when he started playing Dick Grayson as like. the ageless platonic ideal of a wholesome young lad
"the Riddler contrives his plots like artichokes" I'm always saying that Bruce
Frank Gorshin Riddler you will always be iconic. he's literally just suing Batman for assaulting him. and it's working!
except he's not REALLY suing him that's just a pretext for delivering MORE riddles as part of a scheme to kidnap Robin and replace him with a henchgirl like it's so needlessly convoluted
so much is made about how much it would suck if Batman had to appear in court and reveal his identity but he's like. he's so above board in this show. he says in the first ep he's a "duly deputized agent of the law." he's literally just a cop in a bat costume with a teen sidekick he's only wearing the bat costume because it's fun. this Bruce is arguably the biggest freak of any Bruce ever put to screen.
bro they drugged his orange juice... can't have shit in Gotham...
Gorshin plays the Riddler as such a fucking. creature. always scuttling around and crouched over and bouncing and cackling and popping out of spaces where he absolutely should not be with a deeply weasel-like look on his shifty little face. he had such a blank slate to work with (if memory serves, the Riddler had cropped up in a grand total of like six comics prior to appearing in the show) and he picked violence.
and he was right for that
1x02: Smack in the Middle
see look at that. a couplet. how cute.
Bruce has an uncle? an alive uncle?
things that exist in Gotham: the old turtle mill on Orleans Cove
more writers should let Bruce have a "Bat Ray" the just kills the ignition in people's cars. surely that won't go wrong.
I don't think anyone talks enough about how buckfucking wild it is that in the second episode ever of this very goofy non-violent series a woman dies by falling into a nuclear reactor
and then Bruce makes a terrible pun about it that literally no one can hear but him. dick move tbh.
Riddler's got a whole plaid suit pink shoe/gloves/hat situation going on... kind of serving
the lawsuit was dismissed btw. if anyone was worried.
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tenpintsof-sundrop · 7 months ago
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you have some of the best fics i’ve ever seen on this app, AND you always have correct takes. i love that people get pissed off over your takes bc it just proves that they’re in the wrong🫶
oh thank you so much!!
I have a feeling that you're talking about this post I made about Dick Grayson being 'over' sexualized
and to a point I do understand other people having different opinions than me - I think if everyone had 100% monolithic opinions, the world would be a boring, horrible place. and I don't necessarily think that anybody who disagrees with me is wrong
but I just hate it when people are hypocrites
like for one - the post I saw that caused me to make my post in the first place was someone who made this long ass post "examples of Dick being over-sexualized in the comics :(" and half the examples they used were people simply commenting on Dick's looks (which is NOT sexual in nature, just talking about the way he looks) or talking about him being charming/talking about him having a lot of girlfriends or being flirtatious.
and if this had been about a female character, all the comments about her looks would have been sexual in some way, and the comments about her past boyfriends would have been derogatory/calling her a slut in some way - when often, Dick is complimented for his sexual prowess and his ability to get a lot of women, and he will never experience the kind of sexism a female character would cause that's not how it fucking works
first of all - I fucking HATE the term 'over-sexualizing' because it implies that there is a line where sexualizing someone or something becomes too much**. and the second that you draw that line, you are moralizing sexual desire which is a fucking cop Christian Catholic thing to do. I do not care if sexualizing an object, idea, or character makes you 'uncomfortable' - there is no amount where it is morally wrong, and implying that there is a line where something is 'overly' sexual is rhetoric taken directly from Christianity. please kill the cop in your head that makes you think like this
**also - who gets to draw the boundary over what is considering 'too much' sexualizing? especially when it comes to a fictional character. fictional characters DO NOT HAVE a fucking consciousness. they cannot consent, they do not need to consent, so there is no one singular moral authority stating what is 'too much' sexualization upon them. fictional characters cannot have their feelings hurt by sexual trauma, so you cannot 'over' sexualize them
whenever I talk about sexualization in my posts (especially talking about fictional characters), I never state it as something evil or wrong. it's something fun
but anyway - saying that Dick Grayson is over-sexualized by the source material (especially when using examples such as him being called 'charming') is just fucking laughable to me. especially when there are dozens of female comic book characters wearing literal strings as their costumes and everything that has happened to Dick has never even come close to being the same
in my opinion, true equality would be for way, way more male comic book characters to be sexualized by the source material as much as the female characters are. and I stress 'by the source material' because I know so many people are gonna go "well, male characters are sexualized!!! have you seen how much smut is written about Jason Todd?" - male heroes being objects of desire for female fans is way different than every single female hero being drawn with giant boobs and being a one dimensional piece of eye candy in the actual comic.
people see Dick Grayson getting a fraction of the treatment that female characters get by being drawn in gratuitous ass shots and being talked about as being 'good in bed' before anything else, using his looks as a distraction, etc. - and they act like it's a fucking crime
this could lead me down a whole rabbit hole of ranting about how people only care about things when they happen to male characters and people literally only want to baby men (like the way every single fan talks about Spencer vs JJ or the fact that Hotch somehow became a victim of his divorce) - but I will be done with this for now.
my main point: sexualizing fictional characters is never morally wrong, even if it makes you uncomfortable. hell, neckbeard reddit bros drawing porn of my little ponys might be creepy, but it's not wrong. because those fictional characters don't need to give consent (because they are fucking fictional), and ultimately - you don't have to look at the weird porn that they draw.
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felidacy · 1 year ago
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DC x Jennifer's body
I somehow only ever found one fic like this and it focused on Tim as the unfortunate victim. That feels like a crime somehow. Also why I decided against my bias for Tim and instead give the focus to another batfamily member.
TW: mention of SA and alcohol, death, and gore
In this idea I headcanon Dick as asexual. He is by no means like that in canon rip
Basic rundown
Dick who is sexualized for years and assaulted multiple times before, but is publicly known as ace.
was hanging out with some friends (still mourning Jason and drinking too much) when a breakout happens, they leave to deal with it. Dick gets hurt from one of the villain's attacks and attempts to get back to the cave, Alfred insisted on him getting treated regardless that he doesn't want to see Bruce. That is when he gets captured and taken away
Dick gets sacrificed by some cult followers, unaware that he isn't a virgin
Dick wakes up days later with no memories of what happened in the middle of nowhere and an indescribable hunger
Dick kills and eats a deer with his bare hands, which promptly causes a mental breakdown and a crying session (after also vomiting all of the deer out again as well as if he can't eat animal meat any longer.)
he has no phone or anything on him and his clothes are covered in blood (were before he ate the deer too, but not that he was able to pay much attention to that in his state of shock). Still hungry, desperate, and with no means to ask for help Dick walks on until he comes across a small town.
finds a dying man he wishes to help, but that is when the hunger gets the best of him and he eats from the already passed-out man
Dick flees again until he finds himself in an alleyway
Tim was promised by his parents that they would spend his birthday together and he was looking forward to it. It wasn't worth it. He found himself now in an unknown town with his parents being in business meetings since the early morning, not even acknowledging his birthday so far and making more false promises
Wandering around that is when Tim comes across Dick Grayson, his hero, laying in an alleyway and covered in blood. Crying too, a lot
Tim decides that the ex-robin can only be helped by him and plans on bringing the man back to Gotham where he can ask Batman for help (it will be a whole other issue to explain how he knows their identities)
Dick does not want to accept the help of a child, much less when he seems to have lost all humanity along with his self-control now
that all goes out of the window when chaos gremlin Tim 'accidentally' manages to steal a cop car and Dick steps in to help just because he does not wish for him to crash
Cue a journey through the states as a warrant goes out along with missing person reports on the both of them
Dick barely controlling himself as he battles the demon inside himself that wants Tim dead, along the way that only causing other incidents
Tim and Dick end up in Gotham, and chaos ensues when Tim reveals their secrets just to blackmail Batman of all people to get Constantine or anyone else from the Justice League
Dick is impressed, Bruce is not and Alfred has already taken to him is the one that calls for Constantine.
With a totally willing Constatine they can figure out what happened to Dick (much trauma for everyone) and how to stop his violent urges to eat humans (more trauma and shouting)
Dick is more human-like again with no need to eat humans any longer after the demon gets expelled, however, he is forever left as a bit stronger than reasonable with some healing factors that make him able to bend even more into unnatural positions with his joints never seemingly being worn down
And then everyone gets some therapy and everyone can be a way happier family wuhu /j
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jalapainio · 8 months ago
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A look into the development of Batman's character; a thesis by myself.
Batman has never been narratively flat. Over the years, his ideals and methods evolved due to the times, and here is my interpretation of the events.
In Bruce's early years, e.i., his first two years as Batman, he was at his worst. Bruce never fought to help Gotham, but rather to get revenge on the criminals of Gotham. His methods aren't effective, and he inspires fear not to help his mission, and acts generally more like a supervillain with morals than a hero. Batman doesn't kill, because his parents were killed and that was obviously bad, but he comes pretty close to doing it.
But Bruce changed, evoked by his partner and ward, Dick Grayson. When Bruce took in Dick, he made him a deal; they would take down Zuko. Dick would gain revenge for his parents, and he he would retire from his role. But after Zuko was imprisoned, Dick insisted on going out. Why? Because Gotham needs protecting, and Batman can't do it alone. So Bruce shifts his view. Gotham needs protecting, so Batman rises to protect it.
And it worked! The ideals worked. Batman works with cops, he arrests criminals, he smiles at the jokes Dick makes. Bruce is lighthearted, in his golden years. Even when Dick leaves, and the tension grows, Bruce doesn't abandon the ideals. Because they've served him well.
And then Jason dies. The ideals were just that, ideals. Gotham killed Bruce's son, and he took it out on Gotham. Batman regressed further. Every day, he strayed closer and closer to his one line. Killing was bad; it took away Bruce's parents and son. And he wanted Gotham to feel his pain, or die trying.
When Tim steps in, Bruce has to stop and think. Robin had been a sign to Batman that his job was to protect Gotham, but Tim argued it was more. Gotham needs Batman; he was the only thing that brought peace to the forsaken city. Bruce finds himself agreeing with him. Gotham needs Batman. And that meant that Bruce had to do everything in his power to prevent every tragedy in the city. He starts preparing contingencies, keeping secrets, hurting everyone around him in order to make them prepared for every scenario. No matter how implausible.
In the current continuity of Batman, as much as I hate it, it seems they are trying to implement a new development of Bruce. His contingencies let him down, developing a personality that is against Bruce. Alfred died, and Bruce could do nothing about it. All of Bruce's money is gone. And Bruce has to reevaluate. Why is he Batman? What Batman does he want to be?
Maybe, one day, Bruce will decide to fight for Gotham, not because of the pain he's been through, and not because of some twisted sense of duty that makes Bruce responsible for every tragedy in Gotham, but instead because it's the right thing to do. We'll just have to see where the comics take us.
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taiblogcomics · 10 days ago
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War of the Elseworlds
Hey there, undercover cops. It's pretty cold out lately, huh? Maybe some rage at Countdown will warm us up! What do you think~?
Here's the cover:
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More like, "How to cancel Prime subscription". Look at this asshole posing here, like "Now this is a job for a whiny douchebag murderer." Like, this is a competently done cover, but I hate Superboy-Prime and I hate seeing him. At this point, anyone still reading Countdown is pretty much in it for the sunk-cost fallacy. No one's being sold Countdown based on what's on the covers, which is good, because anyone who's chomping at the bit to buy whatever comic Superboy-Prime graces the cover of, is not a human being I would like to meet~
Let's check for a recap. The Multiverse Crew are still available for streaming on Earth-51, despite Monarch's interference. Mary Marvel had her powers pulled and is now only available through the Themyscira service. Also airing on Themyscira is Holly Robinson and Harley Quinn, whose second season features a team-up with Queen Hippolyta. Pied Piper and Trickster dropped half its cast after escaping the Suicide Squad and is free to watch in the desert. Karate Kid and Una can be watched with ads through the Brother Eye attack. Jimmy Olsen has partnered with Forager after being pulled from Apokalips. And we're still doing weekly releases of Countdown~
If having a "heroic" pose of Superboy-Prime on the cover isn't enough to turn you off, the comic opens with a big close-up of his face screaming at the camera. He's also choke-slamming Forerunner into the wall, and Solomon calmly requests he stop doing so. He offers to show Primey the "perfect Earth" he's been seeking in exchange, and when he does so, he shows Prime the battle happening on Earth-51. Primey pulls another horrifying yelling face, screaming "THEY'RE RUINING IT!", and flies off, leaving Forerunner and Solomon behind.
Meanwhile, Ray Palmer and Kyle Rayner are flying off to meet up with Donna Troy. They forgot to add the effect of Kyle's ring, so it just looks like he and Ray are flying unsupported. We then also cut over to Wonder Girl-3 literally crying back home to Queen Plot-Unimportant, whining that Donna beat her up. Queenie just tells her to shape up and try again, which is when Wonder Girl reveals she's actually Donna Troy in disguise, apparently having stolen and dressed in Wonder Girl's clothes off-screen. So many of these plot points get away with happening off-screen.
So Donna attacks Queen Seriously-This-Is-Her-Last-Appearance-In-Anything-Ever, and it goes differently than their previous encounter, to Queenie's shock. She's surprised by Donna's ferocity, thinking she was a weak coward with no bloodlust. This is clearly untrue, and Donna beats her soundly. It's pretty unclear what the queen's fate actually is, but she's beaten into the ground, and all her bug soldiers immediately swear fealty to Donna. This might be helpful if it wasn't also their last appearance. Kyle and Ray show up just as all this finishes to offer a glib remark.
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So that's the rest of the Multiverse Crew. What's Jason Todd up to, then? Well, whatever he said last time got through to Batman-51 apparently, as he's giving Jason some new gear. We get a lengthy suit-up montage while Bats explains he meant it for his Jason when he got older. But that never happened, so might as well put it to good use here. It's the Red Robin suit, which… this might take a minute of explanation as to its significance here, so enjoy this funny suit-up montage GIF while I clear the rest of the paragraph.
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Okay, so then! There's a famous DC story called Kingdom Come. It takes place in a "near future", but it's technically an Elseworlds story. Even has its own multiverse designator, I believe. So even though this future will never become the DC universe's actual present day, writers love to keep dropping references and hints to it, especially around this time. Red Robin was the future Dick Grayson's identity, having succeeded his mentor and joined the Justice League in that timeline. Now it's been passed as Jason Todd's new identity! From Red Hood to Red Robin!
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Aside from that, Nix Uotan, the Monitor for Earth-51, is out blasting guys while also narrating his thoughts. He figures he brought this on himself by raising his Earth too perfectly, so everyone got envious of it. That's why Monarch is using it as a battleground. And while he's grudgingly admitting Monarch's troops are well=picked, who should show up but Batman-51 and Red Robin? I'm just going to keep calling him Jason, though. He and Batman jump out of a plane, and Bats comments that Jason used to crack jokes. He replies that nowadays he just cracks heads. Ba-dum-tchh.
Well, while they beat up a few of the errant supervillains in Monarch's army (rather brutally, too), they note that they might be a bit over their heads at the scope of the larger army. That's when Donna Troy shows up and actually does lead her new bug servants into battle against the rest of them. Wow, this could almost be exciting, except that this is their last appearance in the series, like I said. And the comic ends with a full-page splash of Superboy-Prime landing in front of Monarch, set on whining some more about how he's ruined everything. I'd turn that back around on him, but this comic was ruined way before Primey showed up~
Yep! This sure is another issue of Countdown. Like, this whole section of the story is just fight scenes. Which means my summary goes pretty quick, but it also doesn't leave a lot else to talk about. Like, I guess I'm disappointed that Superboy-Prime's back in the story, that's unfortunate. But it's one little thing on this mostly nothing salad. Frankly, the Kingdom Come tangent was the most interesting thing in this issue, and technically it's not even in this issue! At least it's almost done! We're in the last quarter of the story after this, can you imagine~?
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dickgraysonsptsd · 1 month ago
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devin grayson made a lot of mistakes in how she wrote dick being romani, but his belief that he would have ended up in the prison system without bruce was unrelated to dick thinking he would commit crimes without bruce. it's based on dick analyzing statistics for outcomes for men with similar histories to him.
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Dick: Sooner or later, I was bound to end up here. Every statistic points to it. Male orphan, victim of violent crime. Rootless, "unstable" childhood with minimal formal education. Racially "other." White, but not white enough. The only thing that kept me from ending up behind bars before now was a talent for putting other people there. That, and a guy called Batman. -- Nightwing (1996) #100
the point isn't that dick would actually have become a criminal, it's that the system would have targeted him for who he is and who it perceives him to be. dick obviously would never consider his childhood "unstable" from his own perspective--it's in scare quotes because that's how cops, prosecutors, etc would look at his upbringing in the circus, and he has more than enough experience with the "justice system" as a vigilante and ex-cop (his "talent for putting other people [behind bars]" is a reference to this) to know that.
the "without bruce/without batman" part is because bruce lent a more traditional image of stability to dick's life, putting him in a new category of "rich white man's ward" that kept him out of the sights of law enforcement. if he was never adopted by bruce, he wouldn't have had the layer of protection that bruce's privilege provided him.
this reflection on dick's part is also meant as setup for the ironic turn of this issue, which is that the exact experience as an ex-cop that taught dick that people think he "belongs" in the system is what makes it so easy for amy to play the cop card on his behalf. she tells the cops who are interrogating dick that dick was undercover when blockbuster died (he obviously wasn't; he wasn't even employed by blud pd at the time) and leans into "he's your brother in blue" to get dick out of jail after he turns himself in as an accessory to blockbuster's murder. dick is devastated and betrayed by this because amy is preventing him from atoning for his role in the murder and is using police corruption to do it.
in general, devin grayson's writing was pretty consistently concerned with how other people would treat a romani dick for being romani. she writes references to anti-romani stereotypes as things dick fears that other characters believe about him; for example, early in her run dick picks someone's pocket on a case and reflects that it's one of the skills he learned pre-bruce (from a coworker in the circus who taught him how to do it as a way to mess with bullies or redirect their anger) but never told bruce about, because he thought bruce would see it as a validation of anti-romani stereotypes. this is not devin grayson saying "i as the writer think romani people are thieves," it's her referencing a racist stereotype to show the audience that a romani dick would be affected in-universe by fear of that stereotype.
I used to give the 'lazarus pit madness' trope for jason so much shit unless it was a REALLY good fic that did something interesting with the idea. But the more I read of pre52 red hood the more I'm just like "yeah no I have absolutely no idea how I'd reconcile all this heinous shit he's done without finding a way to make it not his fault actually"
I hate the 'jason was always a monster and bruce couldn't save him' nonsense so much, he was literally just a homeless little boy. MY BUDDY LITERALLY WILLINGLY WENT BACK TO BEING HOMELESS BECAUSE HE DIDN'T WANT TO HURT PEOPLE FOR MA GUNN EVEN THOUGH IT MEANT GIVING UP FOOD AND SHELTER AND DECENT TREATMENT
jason sweetheart I'm so sorry dc butchered you like this my god
When the characterization is so inconsistent the fandom has to resort to literal magic to explain it.
But seriously, I haven’t read a whole lot of Jason as Robin but from what I did read he was so tiny and just wanted to do good. It’s a disservice to every character involved for Bruce to adopt him because he thought he’d be a criminal otherwise. It implies Bruce thinks of every kid living in poverty as a shoe in for crime and not as some of the most vulnerable individuals in low SE areas. Which is just…so bad considering he’s 1) a rich white man stereotyping a large group of people and 2) someone that fights crime because of an act of violence commited in front of him as a little boy. A Batman that doesn’t believe in the goodness of a child (especially one like Jason who, like you said, gave up basic necessities for the sake of his morals) and protecting it in a way he wasn’t protected is a very very weird Batman to me. So it turns Bruce into a white knight and redhood into confirmation of Bruce’s stereotyping and paranoia.
If it was just Jason thinking that’s why Bruce took him in it would be a completely different animal. I might have even enjoyed reading about how Jason rationalized their changed relationship after he came back swinging (literally) and thinking that it’s some innate characteristic about him that drove the wedge between him and Bruce before he even realized it was there. But it’s very much not just Jason. EVERYONE. FUCKING. SAYS. IT. And tbh that kinda ruins everyone just a bit in my eyes. If not agreement and support for Bruce’s bs, they’re at least silently complicit in perpetuating it.
But beyond that, it also makes me think of Devin Grayson’s run where she kept fucking talking about how dick was “meant for crime” or would have obviously been a criminal if it wasn’t for Bruce. This was built on frankly awful stereotypes regarding Romani people. I bring this one up because the combination of the two does not make Bruce look as good as the writers seemed to think.
But if we ignore the bs involved and take the reason for Jason’s adoption at face value, I think it offers an interesting comparison between him and Damian. Jason is presented a child destined for a life of crime who eventually became one of The Villains despite Batman’s efforts. Damian was an heir destined for crime who eventually became one of The Heroes because of Batman’s efforts. Idk it’s just interesting to me.
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incorrectbatfam · 2 years ago
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If the batkids had never become a bat what superhero would they sidekick as instead, in your opinion?
I don't think all of them would've automatically become another hero's sidekick. Think about it: of the nearly 2 billion kids on Earth, only an atomic fraction of them get to witness superheroes firsthand, and even fewer go on to become sidekicks or heroes themselves.
Without Batman taking him on, I don't think Dick would've stuck around Gotham for very long after his parents' deaths. Canonically, he spent some time in the foster system, but I can easily see him ending up someplace else. My headcanon, because I'm a sucker for friends finding each other across timelines: he ends up in Central City and becomes best friends with Wally. They grow up together, but without the burden of superhero responsibilities. Instead of hanging out in Barry's lab, Wally is with Dick that day, so he never gains powers. Dick becomes an honorary West-Allen and instead of being a vigilante or cop, he pursues justice another way by becoming a journalist like Iris. But even with the West-Allens' company, he still goes home to his solo apartment and stays up at night wondering what it'd be like to come home to something different.
Jason still grows up in Crime Alley and tries to steal the Batmobile's tires. Bruce is still sympathetic and takes Jason in. But without Dick, there's no Robin and no mantle to inherit, so Jason becomes Bruce's son and his son only. He goes to school, has his friends and hobbies, and he knows about Batman but Bruce is adamant about keeping him out of danger. He never dies, so that's a plus. Without Dick or Wally as founding members of the Teen Titans, the only times he interacts with Roy are a small handful of corporate trips or galas in Star City. He grows up as an only child, which isn't special in itself. But every time he's greeted with an empty house, he can't help but wonder if things should be different. It's something he can't put to words himself, let alone talk to Bruce or Alfred, so he keeps to himself the pervading feeling that something—somethings—is missing.
Since Batman exists though, so would little Tim's determination to deduce Batman's identity. But as brilliant as he is, it's much more difficult when he can't match the butts Robin's acrobatic moves with the Flying Graysons. He narrows down the possibilities, but there are still a number of people who could fit Batman's profile. And when he finally figures it out... there's nothing else to do. There's no Robin opening for him to blackmail his way into. What I can see him doing is trying to become a new sidekick, but after Bruce turns him down, he just goes and creates his own justice-seeking persona anyway. But there's a different air to it. He doesn't have Robin—a fellow kid—to model himself after. Plus, he's on his own. There is no batfamily or Young Justice. And it's likely his parents would be still alive, so I think that would shape him into a more jaded vigilante—perhaps even an anti-hero. He's got a more different MO, and he's both a valuable ally and formidable opponent. But he still feels like he's not where he should be.
Damian would still be raised by the League of Assassins, but without the Robin precedent, Talia really wouldn't have a reason to send him to Gotham and train with Bruce. I want to be a little optimistic though, so I think instead of growing up to be the League's heir, he starts to see how messed up everything is and makes his getaway, similar to Cass. I headcanon that he crosses paths with Cass and, with their shared background and understanding of each other, they take on the world together. Instead of being assassins or vigilantes, they work together to unlearn their fighting instinct. I see one of two outcomes: their past catches up to them and they have to make a stand, or they're never caught and they open a cat café together instead. I like the latter better. Cass makes the drinks and Damian tends the cats. Despite the tranquility, there's an unspoken agreement between them that what they have isn't the full picture.
Barbara still becomes Batgirl, because that's what Bette was before her, and she works in tandem with Batman and Batwoman. But without Dick, her relationship with the bats is purely business. She still gets shot, becomes disabled, and continues her career as Oracle as well as her relationship with the Birds of Prey. I think eventually, Steph, who starts out as Spoiler as per canon, becomes Babs's mentee as Batgirl, but not Bruce's (again, no Robin). They don't have any connections to Dick or Tim, so instead, they use that time to build a sisterly type of relationship. Rather than dying and then coming back as Spoiler, Steph carries on being Batgirl. But when patrols are done and she hangs up the cowl to work on the latest cases with Babs, she can't help but notice that HQ is too cold and quiet. But she can't explain why.
Harper and Cullen get away from their abusive dad and Harper tries her hand at college before dropping out. Batman still saves them and Harper becomes Bluebird, but because vigilantes aren't as normalized, she's met with more skepticism from her brother. Nonetheless, she pushes on. But it's a lonelier pursuit. There's no one she can call for backup, no one who understands her problems, and the only person to patch her up is an inexperienced Cullen. Without Batman at the center, she turns out a little like Tim—she develops her own moral compass which might not necessarily agree with the other heroes. The victories are bittersweet as every decision is second-guessed, but the silver lining is that the siblings still got each other. Still, sometimes they wish they weren't all that they have.
Duke would never have been part of We Are Robin nor become Bruce's protegé after that. Again, I'm going with the good timeline, so Duke's parents are okay and he grows up normally. He develops his powers, but doesn't get much guidance besides the secondhand information he gleans from reading about other metahumans. He probably wouldn't take to the streets, but instead, uses his powers to trace back evidence and provide the vigilantes help in a behind-the-scenes way. Maybe he incidentally comes across a shard of Nth metal while surveying a crime scene. And since Nth metal allows him to see into other dimensions, that's actually what happens when he takes it home.
But he can't make heads or tails of what he sees. A traffic light uniform, then a blue uniform gracefully flipping from a skyscraper. Teenage heroes gathered with pizza. A crowbar, an explosion, and a red helmet. Cameras and clones and wingsuits. A child getting dropped off by his mother and being mentored by a Batman that looks different from this one. Busier commlinks, Batgirl using sign language, a hero-themed restaurant. Himself, wearing red and green, surrounded by kids he's never seen.
And then it gets weird. All those strangers out of uniform. A kitchen table with a blonde girl and a guy with a white streak arm wrestling for the last slice of pie. A spiky-haired kid switching the salt and sugar, then an older teen putting the wrong one in his coffee. The Waynes' butler feeding two dogs, a cat, a cow, and a turkey. A young woman in a wheelchair trying on new scarves with a blue-haired girl and her brother. A red-headed woman and a woman in a fuzzy cat sweater debating something. The oldest kid and an Asian girl sharing their playlists. And in the middle of it all is Duke himself, sitting in a living room with CEO Bruce Wayne, sipping hot apple cider while making fun of a bad movie.
Then Duke puts the shard down and covers it. He doesn't know what it all means. Should he should go downstairs and tell his parents, or wait to tell one of the vigilantes?
In the end, he does neither. Some missing pieces are better kept secret.
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lightwing-s · 2 years ago
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𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐩𝐭. 𝐢𝐢 | 𝐝. 𝐠.
pairing: dick grayson x gn!reader warnings: mentions of explosions and maybe some bruises?. word count: 4,4k summary: when their date is interrupted, dick plays a little too hard and finds out some people are just too good at telling out lies
a/n: sorry for taking too long, I really have zero excuses this time lmao, but part 3 won't take this long, I hope. Also, in this part, reader is described as wearing lipstick.
you can check pt. 1 here! | pt. iii out now!
⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟
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Fixing the cuffs of his white dress shirt, Dick contemplates how his outfit is looking thus far on the full length mirror hanging on his bedroom wall. Dark gray suit, white button down shirt paired with a dark blue tie. Satisfied with what he was wearing, his attention was then quickly brought up to the evident bags of blue, purple or whatever color they were, underneath his eyes, and the few scratches still adorning his face. Making his way back to his bathroom, he picks up a small Wonder Woman make up bag from the cabinets and from it he takes the familiar tube of concealer, gently applying it to his skin to try and mask his tiredness, just as he remembered Steph teaching him the other day while in Gotham.
Dick had just made it back from his former home, having spent over a month in the city assisting Bruce and his brothers with a large break of inmates from Blackgate Penitentiary and its subsequent, and disastrous, consequences. There’s no need to say he was tired, his face showed it expressively, and his body felt it in every joint. It was a long month spent in Gotham, that came right after another very long month he had in his new home of Bludhaven. So tonight, he felt justified to take at least one night off to himself, he earned that break and the opportunity to relax, just this once.
Also, there was Y/n. Just as long as he stayed in Gotham, were the days that had passed since their encounter at that coffee house, when Y/n had nonchalantly given him their number, and through all this time they had exchanged messages, calls and facetimed for the entirety of it. Dick admits his attraction to Y/n might have been purely physical at first. He was coming from a long period of hectic days juggling work in the police department during the day and patrolling the city at night, all this with little rest, leaving no space for him to even think of someone else properly, never mind some little sex. But through the messages and the phone calls he grew to actually like them much more as people rather than a quick fling. They surprisingly liked the same shows, and were into many of the same artists and musicians, and Y/n, upon finding out Dick was once in the circus, disclosed to him their childhood obsession with the aesthetic and how many movies and shows about it they have watched in their entire life. Dick had promised to take them to the next circus that arrived into town, and their way their eyes sparkled hearing that made his day. They were adorable. And Dick was freefalling from a 20 thousand feet mountain in love with them with every passing day.
Tonight, finally, that much expected date was going to happen. He kept having to reschedule it due to how the work in Gotham expanded every time they thought it would be over. Dick felt incredibly sorry by the time he had to call it off for the fourth time, but Y/n was amazing through it all, saying they understood him and his situation, because, after all, “Gotham was in dire need of policial help”. He felt bad for lying, Y/n seemed to like him a little bit more just because he was a cop, and so, lying to them about the job felt wrong.
Spitting out his mouth wash, Dick fetches his phone from his bed and seeks the now familiar contact he has been messaging so much lately.
[07:13 pm] D: Leaving the apartment, send your address. See you soon
Taking out his dress jacket and holding it over his shoulder, Dick awaits a reply while opening Spotify and shoving romantic song after romantic song on his queue in a way it doesn’t sound suspicious and he can create a “natural” romantic setting for the start of their date.
[07:14] Y/n: sent live location [07:14] Y/n: I’ll be waiting outside. Can’t wait to see you ♡
Y/n typed on their phone, fingers slightly shaking from anxiety. Good anxiety, though. They had been waiting for this day since they left the café that damn morning, feeling shit after a whole night of chasing and sweating for any interesting news for the newspaper, but still trying to put up a show for the cute officer they had been watching order coffee for almost two weeks at that point. They know it may sound creepy, but they were always at the same café around that time anyway, but always too shy to make a move. Drinking whiskey from the flask left in the company car by the previous reporter wasn’t their most professional  action of the night, but it sure helped them when their shift ended.
Going down the stairs of their own apartment building, Y/n didn’t have to wait long to see the silver Porsche take a turn down the street and head in their direction. The thumping in their chest grew faster, beating like a runner at a sprint race, and they couldn’t hold the smile from spreading in their face. Gosh, this was such a school girl behavior, but they couldn’t contain it. They were genuinely excited to meet up with Dick, after so many disastrous dates that went nowhere and just made them feel like shit. With Dick it was different, it had to be.
Stopping right in front of the building and rolling down the windows, Dick greeted:
“Taxi for Y/n?”
As if possible, Y/n smile only grew larger upon seeing his own. He opened the car door from the inside, apologizing for not getting out to open it because of the hectic traffic still running on his side of the street.
“Nice car” they complimented, settling themselves in the passenger seat. “Which one is it?”
“A Porsche.” 911 Carrera, 1984, they finished in their head when the man didn’t do it himself, but acting surprised either way by his answer. They couldn’t let him know they had been snooping around for information on him since they had found out his name. “It was Bruce’s” …Wayne, the man who took him in after his parents died of a terrible accident at the circus, and who apparently was a bit of an asshole.  Yeah, they knew it all.
“Well, it’s stunning” they complimented once again, admiring the inside of the vintage car better kept than anything they owned in their apartment.
“Well, you look stunning tonight.” he stated, making Y/n feel the heat climbing up their neck all the way to their cheeks. Dick stood there for a while more, sitting on his side to look at Y/n properly just a little bit longer. They did look stunning. From the moment he saw them standing on the sidewalk, extending their neck to check if he was coming on the road, Dick lost track of all thoughts and all he could think of was Y/n S/n. 
They were wearing blue tonight. His blue, he thought. Accentuating their eyes, and complimenting every feature in their body, whilst still modestly covering it. Indeed, stunning.
“Dick?” The subtle question broke him off his trance. “Should we go?”
“O-oh, yeah, sure.” Dick recollected himself, focusing on getting the car through the busy street before adding, nonchalantly. “For someone who hates Nightwing, you look really good in his colors.”
In the short time they had known each other, Dick quickly learned the perfect way to tease Y/n with their dislike of Bludhaven’s own hero. Not knowing how to respond, and not wanting to have an argument, even if it’s a  silly one, on their first date, Y/n controlled the involuntary smile caused by his comment, turning it into a pouch and looking away from him to the window.  
A few moments of silence followed between the two, with the only source of sound coming from the stereo softly whispering love songs Y/n knew very well wouldn’t naturally line up like that by themselves. The stereo system was clearly way too modern for such an old car, but surely through Wayne's expressive fortune he found a way to fit it to the 21st century standards. The lack of communication though, wasn’t at all uncomfortable. Being together brought both of them a sense of peace, even with the teasing and bickering their interactions often had, it felt like things were… right. That they were in the right place.
“I really couldn’t wait for today to come.” Y/n said, breaking the silence while staring at Dick discreetly through the sides of their eyes.
“Me too, really.” he quickly took a look at them. “And I’m sorry for having to reschedule it too many times…”
“Hey, I get it.” they cut in before Dick could finish explaining. “You’re a cop, I understand it comes with irregular hours, office bones and shit. I really don’t mind.” expressed, reaching their hands to hold onto his that was set  over the car’s gear. “I did feel sad it was taking too long for us to see again, but I guess it was worth it. No one had ever taken me to a fancy restaurant before.”
“You’ll love it! Their food is amazing and…” Dick interrupted himself when the instantly recognizable beat of ‘Careless Whisper’ came through the speakers. That was definitely not on his ‘subtle songs to set a romantic setting’ queue, it was straight ‘here have sex with me�� worthy. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how this song got into my playlist” he reached for his phone while Y/n giggled beside him.
Opening Spotify once more, he tried to open his queue only to find “Damian Wayne joined this group sessions” notified on the player. That little brat! He shouldn’t have told him, or anyone in the family for that matter, that he was going on a date tonight. And with a series of other apologies and attempting to explain what had just  happened. Having learned how Dick’s little brother was,  Y/n couldn’t help laughing even louder at his middlings on his brother’s date, and Dick found out no other song in his playlist could match the sound of their laugh.
Arriving at the location, they were ushered inside the glass exterior building by a man dressed in fine clothing — just like the Dick was — and they entered a large elevator alongside another couple and a small group of businessmen Y/n knew very well, as they had studied them for an article, and who they were glad didn’t seem to care about anyone else inside that elevator, as the story they had written wasn’t too kind to any of them. Due to the unwanted company, the couple remained quiet, exchanging smiles and looks at each other, while Dick’s hand rested on the small of Y/n’s back. When the door opened, Y/n mouth fell when at the view they found.
Not only was the restaurant beautifully decorated, with few yellow lights, lit up low, and creating a mysterious yet comfortable atmosphere, but the view of the whole city was something Y/n had never seen in all her life as a native resident of Bludhaven.
“Wow!” was all they could manage to say, mouth hanging open for longer than they’d be proud to admit.
“Beautiful, right? It’s owned by an old friend, and he kindly found a spot for us today, even though the waiting period to get a reservation is estimated to be around three months.” he winked at them, as if what he said was a common occurrence in his life. Which Y/n wouldn’t be surprised to know was actually true.
Sitting by the window, in the far corner of the restaurant, they had to themselves a pretty and reserved spot. Y/n couldn’t take their eyes from the view though. The busy streets, full of the lights of cars just wanting to get home, the skyline of tons of rooms lit for families to have dinner, students to study, or simply having friends over. Y/n wondered if they could see their own apartment from over there, or maybe their parents home.
“This view… it’s incredible!” Y/n exclaimed.
“Yeah, it really is.” the raven haired man replied, making Y/n turn to face him, who seemed glue looking at themselves. Y/n cheeks were tainted red from the realization of the beautiful view he was staring at.
“Are you ready to order?” questioned a waiter, handing them leather covered menus.
When Dick was about to tell Y/n about his favorite appetizer he tried once before, and the entire story where Bruce had the chef make some for his own birthday, a loud bang could be heard from the outside, in the direction of Bludhaven’s harbor, just outside the restaurant’s building, making Dick jump up and look outside through window on the other side of the room. Y/n also stood up, while many people stumbled on them, trying to leave the restaurant, fearing the worst.
From where Y/n stood, they could see Dick on the phone, loosening his tie around his neck, as he walked towards his date with his eyebrows hanging low and a missing smile.
“I’m so so so sorry, but…”
“You’ll have to go.” Y/n completed for him, knowing already that as a policeman he needed to be wherever it was they needed him. Placing their hand on his neck, Y/n leaned in for a quick kiss on his lip, yet Dick felt like it took longer than it really did. “I understand,” they said, looking deep into his eyes. “Now go, they need you Detective Grayson.”
Smiling like a silly boy for the brief minute he forgot what he was about to do, Dick recollected himself and told them:
“When I come back, I’m gonna need a real one that”
“As many as you like, Detective” and instinctively, Dick held their chin for another quick kiss, before rushing out the building.
Y/n own grandfather was a police Captain, and since they were a little kid they had an immeasurable admiration for that profession. They were the real heroes, combating whatever came without powers or money, just the good will and the desire to help those in need. Even though some bad apples could be found in the bunch, Y/n believed most of them were good people like their grandfather, and with every little conversation they had with Dick, the long hours on the phone after their shift at the paper ended, or the short messages exchanged during the day, or his good morning stickers that were corny but lovely nonetheless, all of that made Y/n believe they had found one of the good ones. Not just a good cop, but a good man, and perhaps, who knows, even a good partner.
Y/n was broken out of their thoughts by their phone going crazy, and unlocking it they found over two hundred messages on their work’s group chat. Searching for only the important one, they read:
[07:58 pm] boss: I NEED SOMEONE AT THE PORT. WHERE IS EVERYBODY FOR HELL'S SAKE. [07:58 pm] Dave camera guy: sorry Mitchel, me and Isla are on the other side of the city, and with the traffic we won’t make it there any time soon. [08:02 pm] the other dave: we crashed the car on our way there… [08:02 pm] boss: DAMN YOU IDIOTS!!!!
Thinking twice before replying, not wanting to ruin their off night, Y/n decided to do it, her date was ruined anyway.
[08:12 pm] Y/n: I’m just by the harbor, I can cover it. [08:12 pm] boss: ONE GOOD EMPLOYEE IN THIS COMPANY!! THANK YOU Y/N. NOW GET DOWN THERE AND REPORT ME SOMETHING.
Luckily, as a good reporter, Y/n always kept a small notepad and some pens in all their bags, and headed to the harbor even though their shoes couldn’t be worse for running. The traffic was crazy, and people were honking their cars for absolutely everything and nothing at the same time. Just as Y/n was crossing the road, though, a car sped in their direction, instantly paralyzing them in place. They were expecting the crash, when a brutal force took them out of the street onto the sidewalk.
“Are you okay?” asked the person who apparently had saved them.
“I’m fine, thanks…” Nightwing?
“So you’re wearing my colors now? I knew you liked me when we first met, I just didn’t know it was that much” he played.
Damn you, little thing. Arg! Y/n couldn’t avoid the hateful thoughts.
“Didn’t know you could register a color!” they replied, spiteful. The vigilante didn’t have time to reply though, as another explosion sounded, this time a lot louder due to the proximity to the origin spot.
“I’m sorry, you look stunning tonight, but we’ll have to reschedule our fight for some time later” he said, jumping up a fence and disappearing into the darkness. 
Arg! They thought, angrily stomping their feet. Not only had Nightwing dirtied their clothes while trying to save them, but he used the compliment their date had told them earlier that night. It’s his compliment, and his only!
Getting to the harbor, there were already some news teams by the police blockade, some people who Y/n were friends with and others they barely knew by name, but all trying to watch every action and get every single detail to make their story more interesting. Y/n found their friend, a fellow night shift reporter called Asher, who filled them in on what was going on, finding out that Black Mask for some reason changed cities for a day. Apparently he was trying to branch out to Bludhaven now. Thanks, Nightwing.
The blockade was watched by a few officers, while others were being rushed deeper into the harbor, but no matter their position, they all looked distressed by the situation, and the ones holding everyone not a cop or a rescuer out of the area were extra worried about all the reporters screaming at them for information. Those were clearly not used to dealing with a situation like this. Rookies, Y/n wondered. Great for me though! They thought to themselves. Rookies were easy to manipulate and extract information from, if dealt with right. Fixing their clothes to look a bit more… attractive, Y/n got closer to one of the officers who got notability uncomfortable with the situation. Perfect!
“I can’t really share any information, Mr/Miss.” stated the young officer, after Y/n tried to flirt their way into getting any information. 
“Oh c’mon!” they expressed, frustrated with their failed tactics. “At least let me see my boyfriend, then. He was called in tonight from the 38th Precinct.” Y/n lied.
The expression on the officer’s face was hard to read, as if Y/n had said something insane.
“Nobody was called from the 38th tonight. Everyone here tonight works for a local precinct, either the 14th or the 25th.” he said. Confused, Y/n tried once more.
“Detective Dick Grayson?” the male shook his head once more. “He just arrived from a thing… a mission in Gotham?”
“I’m sorry, what?” Now, Y/n had the officer confused. “Why would Bludhaven send cops to Gotham? The city can barely be taken care of with our full numbers. We can’t afford to lose important personnel. Hey, Michael, this one right here thinks we can spare officers to work in Gotham” he joked with his partner, who joined in his laugh.
“Wasn’t Grayson on leave?” a third cop chimed in.
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. As an investigative reporter, Y/n considered themselves to be really good at solving puzzles, and finding answers in blank pages. But none of this made sense. Had Dick lied to them? Why would he have left their date if it wasn’t for work? Where would he go? And why would he lie about going to Gotham for work to someone he barely knew? It wasn’t worth the hassle, it was easier to not say anything at all. 
So many questions and no answer at all. Y/n mind was clouded and no proper thought went through it at that point. There was no reason they could find to justify this, if it wasn't him just playing with them. But what a weird way to play with somebody’s feelings. 
It was pointless to think about it at that moment, there was much more going on inside one of the ships. They’d have to think about this later. Who knows, perhaps he was called in and something happened on his way here? Like, he could have been taken hostage, and he could have volunteered to help. That would explain him not being here and the officer not knowing of his presence. Doesn’t explain his time in Gotham, though. But the cop at the blockage was new, he said it himself, he probably doesn’t know much about the force. 
Enough, Y/n scolded themselves. Shaking their heads, they tried to focus on the work at hand.
“There’s someone out there!” somebody screamed from the pitch of reporters, photographers  and camera people. Squishing their eyes to better observe the darkness surrounding the harbor, Y/n sees the shadow of a man, a tight-suit wearing man they knew very well at this point, followed by the sound of guns and screams. The officers in front of them, startled, moved further away, and Y/n sneaked inside behind them and through a dark corner without anyone noticing.
Arriving closer to one of the larger ships, Y/n could feel their face getting warmer, and the foul smell of smoke filling their lungs. However, from that position they could see Black Mask and his goons being beat up by Nightwing like they were watching an UFC fight from the best and most expensive seat in the house. Oh how their boss would love these shots! 
One of those men was suddenly thrown right beside them, startling Y/n who heard a loud crack sound from the body on their side. They didn’t not want to know where that sound was from. Returning to face the ship, nobody was in sight.
“Look out!” was all Y/n heard before another loud boom announced a new explosion. Pieces of broken glass and other little things scratched Y/n’s face, who was now laying down on the ground with a ringing sound stuck to their ears. Dizzy, Y/n was lifted up and carried away by strong arms, coughing their lungs out from all the smoke. “You’re gonna be alright, Y/n” the person who was holding them promised, but Y/n could barely make out what was said. Facing up to look at their rescuer, unfortunately they were met by their least favorite masked person.
Nightwing took them far from the heat of the fire, stopping by the blockage, where paramedics were situated by an ambulance that had arrived shortly after Y/n broke inside the secured zone. They were soon surrounded by rescuers who checked every bit of their body, looking for bruises or any other signs of damage. However, a hand still held theirs for the longest time, until they heard someone ask whoever was holding it to leave.
However long had passed during their examination, Y/n was released by the paramedics and escorted out by the same rookie officer they tried to trick, not after getting a brief scolding by the police Captain for trespassing in a dangerous zone. Not my first rodeo, Cap. And it won’t be my last, was all that was in their head.
“That's what I call dedication.” joked Asher, as they joined them back outside the blockage.
“Funny.” they replied, their head still heavy. Seemingly to worsen their situation, the crowd of reporters exploded in screams and calls and clicks, making Y/n feel dizzier, as Nightwing approached them outside. Coming straight to Y/n, he excused the crowd apologizing for not taking any questions, and taking Y/n arm, he pulled them with him away from the crowd.
“Are you okay, Y/n?” he asked, ignoring the people staring at them like maniacs, wondering what the hell was going on between the two. Y/n was also freaking out a bit, as they didn’t recall ever telling Nighting their name. “They pulled me away from you before I could be sure you were fine.”
“I-I’m fine” the other replied.
“Good.” he sighted, sending them a smile. With this gesture, Y/n felt uneasy. They were sure they had seen that smile before, and it wasn’t from that morning in a random alley. “I didn’t mean to ruin your outfit, though.” he said, pointing at Y/n’s now stained clothes. “For someone that loves me oh so damn much, you do look great in my colors.”
Jokes were supposed to make you laugh. Not to make your stomach drop. As he ended his sentence, Y/n’s mind lit up like a city after a long blackout. It wasn’t long ago that they had received the same comment about their outfit. Nor the same compliment on their look. No, no. Not even that smile was new to them. Starting to suspect everything that happened tonight, they decided it was time to get some answers.
“You got here pretty fast tonight.” they splattered.
“I was just around the corner.” he said, eyebrows arched. How convenient. 
If Y/n thoughts were right, the bump on their way here wasn’t their first meeting of the night. And just then, many things were starting to make sense in their head. Was Nightwing sighted anywhere this past month, while Dick was out of town? Was it a coincidence the vigilante was around the same area their date was on?
“Well, I hadn’t seen you in the city for a while. Looks like you took a needed vacation.” they stated, looking deep into, or at least attempting to, his masked eyes. Dick didn’t like how this conversation was sounding, starting to question if they were on to something.
“I’ve been busy.” he replied.
“It looks like it.” they stated, reaching with their hands to touch his lips. “Whoever they are, consider themselves lucky.”
Showing their thumb up to him, a colored stain of lipstick could be found there.
“I really like this shade. In fact I’m using the same one tonight”.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to hint at, Y/n.” Dick confidently stated, even though he felt his stomach drop after his carelessness was spotted by them.
They know. His secret is out.
“Y/n, I can explain…” he tried to plead, but was cut off by the sirens of two police cars rushing out the harbor, followed by some of the crews that had been waiting outside.
“I think they need you, Dick” they said, not daring to look up at him. Repeating the action from the restaurant, he picks up their chin, forcing them to look him into his eyes.
“Wait for me by your window. Please, Y/n, let me explain everything”
.
a/n: i feel like i don't have to say this needs a part iii lol. but sorry, i feel like this looks like shit :(
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gothamcitycentral · 3 years ago
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☕️ Batman adaptations
Batman adaptations inherently fail if they rely on “reimagining” Batman in a more gritty and ~realistic~ world. Batman is always at least a little silly on a conceptual level. Why would I be interested in a version of a character embarrassed by what it’s based on?
Furthermore, a ~realistic~ Batman abandons his martial arts skills and his gadgets. He dresses in militaristic body armor. He’s meant to be an action hero so he’s denied any detective skills. Yet he’s still described as one of the most intelligent humans on Earth despite doing nothing to prove it. This leaves a Batman whose only power is spying on the general public and being a cop that acts without consequence. He breaks a man’s spine while shouting “WHERES THE GIRL?!”. He follows Batman’s no killing rule but this only means he hospitalizes people on the street instead of killing them. He tells the audience “See? Wouldn’t it be so much better if cops didn’t have to worry about a disgusting criminal’s human rights?” This a Batman who is only an advertisement for a police state and a power fantasy fulfillment geared towards men.
The only Batman adaptation that I think reimagine Batman and his world well is The Batman of 2004. This show doesn’t make changes in a need to be different but a desire to feel distinct. This Bruce isn’t made with distain for the original, but rather he’s a younger Batman who needs time to grow into his predecessors. The villains are often drastically different to their usual portrayals but I never roll my eyes and say “I can’t believe they got this wrong” because the show knows. It knows these characters and therefore how to deviate from them.
The show before this was Batman: The Animated Series. I could not possibly overstate how important this show is the general state of Batman. The cultural idea of Batman is derived from this one. Every Joker is either based or a deliberate divergence from this Joker. It was even the show that invented Harley Quinn, now one of the most iconic Batman related characters.
Going back to my first point, despite their tonal differences, The Lego Batman Movie and The Batman 2022 feel like a beautiful criticism of these Batman adaptations.
The Lego Batman relishes in the real world culture of Batman. He’s famous, he’s beloved, he’s been through every adventure Batman has gone on. The movie references other Batman media as canon history of this world. When doing so, it shows a lot of Batman’s more recent adaptations. These being… the grittier Batman, Batman v Super or The Dark Knight. When it does reference the campy Batman movies (like Adman West) in this montage, it brushes them off. This isn’t meant to mock these movies, but rather tell the audience that the former media is going to characterize this Bruce.
Bruce wallows in his own misery. He can’t move past the death of his parents. However, if Bruce Wayne is a facade and Batman works alone, then is it not Bruce that is dooming himself to his own miserable isolation? We see this when he refuses to believe he sees Alfred as a father figure. We see this when he rejects how important the Joker is to him. We see this when he refuses to consider Dick Grayson his son.
While Batman is characterized by the darker, ~realistic~ versions of himself, both the Joker and Robin are based on the most goofy versions of themselves.
The Joker is extravagant, he’s funny and excitable, he carries himself like a cartoon supervillain, and he’s vulnerable. Nothing about this Joker is derived from the edgy and dark portrayals that so often accompany the Batman this Bruce is characterized from.
Robin as a concept is often seen (by both fans and creators) as something that could never exist in a grounded Batman world. Robin was born in the most campy and light hearted of Batman media. While I wouldn’t call this Robin a particularly good show case of Dick Grayson’s character, I would call it an excellent showcase of Robin.
It doesn’t seem like coincidence that Bruce’s central arc revolves around him embracing these two characters as a part of him. It’s the very thing that saves Gotham. When he accepts them, Batman becomes brighter, happier, cartoonish even. When Bruce offers himself to go to the Phantom Zone, he accepts that Batman isn’t about how cool or powerful he is, how important, but rather the responsibility that Batman carries.
The Batman first characterizes the titular character as intimidating, silent, and something that evokes fear. The first interaction he has with a civilian isn’t awe or thanks, but them begging Batman to not hurt them.
When we see Bruce as Bruce it becomes clear, he is a mess. Not for comedy, but because that’s how this character will be portrayed. He isn’t silent and broody to seem cool, intimidating, or because he doesn’t feel anything, but because he’s feeling a hundred different emotions at once and he still doesn’t understand how to process or articulate them. He feels unable to live up the legacy of Thomas and Martha Wayne but he still desperately tries to uphold it.
Both critics and supporters of this Gotham City’s dark and gloomy atmosphere describe it as an  aesthetic choice. But no, this is very clearly a narrative choice. This Gotham City is a cesspool. It’s filled and controlled by greedy politicians and dirty cops. It drags down and damages everyone who lives there. 
The Riddler is someone damaged by Gotham. He believes it be unsalvageable. He’s angry and hurt by city officials that took and took from the city instead of trying to help it.
But in the end, it’s him who is damaging Gotham out of his own egotism. He become so hellbent on delivering justice to Gotham’s destroyers that he organized and rallied to murder the mayoral candidate.
Yet, this is the politician who plans to truly try to help Gotham. She has true intentions to restart Thomas and Martha Wayne’s plans to help the city. She would be good for Gotham. The Riddler is too blinded by his own pain to see that. He floods the city, he kills civilians, he becomes the very thing he hated.
The Riddler represents who Batman could become. Someone so resentful because of their pain that they tear the city down in their mission to save it. Someone who believes themselves to be a champion of justice yet hurts the people they swore to protect.
Bruce doesn’t allow himself to go down this path. He stops being a symbol of fear because he knows Batman has to be a symbol of hope to help Gotham. His first interaction with a civilian may have been of fear but his last was him holding a woman’s hand as she was carried on a stretcher. His final moments with Selina wasn’t some hollow romance ending but him choosing to help Gotham. He gives up a happy ending with someone he cares about because he knows he has a chance to save his city and, therefore, the responsibility to try.
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outoftheframework · 4 years ago
Text
my proposal for tropes we as a fandom should adopt in all fanworks going forward: Duke Thomas edition
So every fandom has tropes and characterization quirks that have been generally accepted into fanon and, like, maybe? they were originally based on some obscure comic panel from the 80s or something but it doesn’t really matter because we’re all just,,, cool with it? Like for example- in the dc comics fandom, an art piece could show 3 of the bats that look virtually identical except one of them is holding a box of cereal so that one is obviously Dick Grayson. . . Y’know?
Anyway, these things usually come up naturally I guess but I’ve been here a while and it’s finally time to put my foot down. It’s high time for Duke Thomas to be more in fanon than “the sane one.” Because he might be the relatively new guy but he is certainly fears no gods or laws of the land just as much as the other bats, lemme tell ya. 
TL;DR here are character quirks (”canon-based” or otherwise) that we should all really latch onto seriously I’m begging y’all to make at least one of these happen-
Duke “Habitually Jumping Out of Moving Vehicles” Thomas
This one’s actually based in canon y’all; Duke did indeed yeet himself out of the back of a cop car and off of a bridge (in We Are... Robin). Normalize Duke’s wearing knee and elbow pads as Signal because jumping out of a car turns out relatively fine once and then suddenly Batman’s rooftop disappearing act seems mellow compared to the amount of times Gordon has whipped his head around to see a now Signal-less backseat. 
Like, he’s going 60 mph?? And he didn’t even hear the door open?? and tHE DOORS ARE STILL LOCKED??
Imagine this leaking into civilian life and Bruce waking up to a blurry photo of Duke mid-escape from a limousine on the front page of the Gotham Gazette.
(more under cut)
Duke “Puzzles are my Passion” Thomas
Duke is ~canonically~ very skilled at both solving and concocting riddles (as a child during that time where The Riddler just,,, controlled Gotham, he worked non-stop on riddles, trying to make the perfect one). Please y’all- let Duke solve puzzles. Have the other bats ask him for help after 36 hours straight of brooding over some brainteaser that Duke works out within the half-hour. He texts a picture of the solution scribbled out on loose leaf in the margins of his pre-calc homework because this boy shows his work. 
My guy is a word-cross FIEND. A mind-sweeper speed-runner. That guy who mails into the Gazette to correct a solution in the “fun & games” section and also ps that photo is not of me I am simply a polite young man who is much too busy writing into the paper in the year 2021 to jump out of limos-
I also would love to see this integrated into the type of cases he investigates / runs into on his daytime patrol. Like, obviously the criminal activity is going to dramatically differ before and after sundown, but that doesn’t make Duke’s work any easier or less important. It’s a different skillset; he has to work differently. Instead of jumping into fights, halting mob meetings, saving civilians in dark allies, etc. Duke has to sort through all of the moving pieces before they all converge into something catastrophic. 
It’s a known fact that criminal organizations in Gotham make and execute a lot of behind-the-scenes plans during the day specifically not to run into the bats. And Duke knows and monitors this shit all by himself; his work is crucial to logistics and information gathering for the bats as a whole. Now criminals have like, a 2 hour gap between bat-shifts to try and get stuff done. But Duke would 100% set traps on timers or lead them on this pre-set convoluted goose chase  to distract them until the night bats come out and to let himself enjoy the whole thing playing out on the news while he finishes homework that’s due at midnight.
Duke “I Know a Guy” Thomas
So in going off of the basic concept for the “We Are. . . Robin” run in combination to his general likability, Duke has a lot of friends all around Gotham. Okay, sure, he doesn’t have a Super best friend or a Speedster on speed dial, but he does know this guy who details cars up on West 35th and will tell them all about the new mods on Black Mask’s transport vans if they come through the third floor window and bring takeout. 
Bruce and Tim will be waiting for the facial recognition software to identify at least a partial match off of security cam footage when Duke pulls into the cave, takes one look at the screen, and says “Oh, that’s <insert name, address, abridged life story, and known associates here>.” This also brings in the opportunity for Duke to have some sort of perfect recall for faces, voices, names, etc. which I think could be a really cool element for his position as the batfamily member who has a lot more personal interaction with the people of Gotham.
I’m also into the idea of a lot of people knowing/telling stories about Duke. Not to reference the Chuck Norris meme but almost like the Chuck Norris meme lmao. Think about Jason mentioning his brother to someone and she replies, “Duke Thomas? Like that Duke Thomas? The one who swam across the harbor because he said it’d be faster than the subway and it actually was?” These stories have varying levels of truth to them but Duke will never confirm nor deny when he gets random calls from family members yelling “you dID WHAT”
So those are my top three, and the following is a little speed-round of headcanons :)
Duke has a super expressive face. Like when he’s relaxed around family, you can tell exactly what he’s thinking and how he’s feeling by his visual reactions to things
Duke rotates through picking up new and revisiting old hobbies at a pretty rapid pace. Some hobbies include: bullet journaling, origami, viola, cello, synth, conversational basics in multiple languages, up-cycling and embroidering clothes
Duke has a really fucking adorable smile. He can’t help it. He’ll try to grin sarcastically or smug to be annoying but his smile just cannot be anything other than endearing. He also has a very specific booming laugh that’s an absolute treasure to hear, because it’s the most genuinely happy thing ever. 
Duke unironically enjoys Signal by Twice even though the first time he heard it was after Steph had set it as his morning alarm.
So.
Come and get your food, I guess.
Feel free to add on if you’d like! I’d love to see anything you guys write/draw/etc. based on anything from here if you feel compelled to do so!
Stay safe and be well :) 
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