#you thought Tim would actually change his suit? he's still a bat
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abisalli · 5 months ago
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I bet wearing spandex in summer is no fun
Bonus: summer suits!?
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daisybell-on-a-carousel · 17 days ago
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When Superboy Prime accidentally resurrected Jason Todd, it was described something like the universe righting itself. And, from a purely physical point of view, Jason never died. It brought his body back to it's state before his death, his injuries there but with just enough he could still survive
So, now I'm imagining like. What if there was an au where it was more than Jason just physically "never dying," but it affected memories of those around as well
Joker not remembering killing him, Dick not remembering hearing the news, Batman and Gotham not remembering the 6 months between Jason's death and resurrection, but not thinking much if it
Its all as if Jason never died
#the way im personally thinking about going about this is like. mystery#theres a grave for jason todd but its empty. 6 months of your memories are glossing over something. all of Jason's stuff is gone#rambling#this is hard to get to work you have to fuck around with alot#you could go FURTHER. jason has no grave at ALL. he just woke up in Ethiopia one day#maybe wandered around just the same until the league found him? goes from there#but the POINT#is imagine waking up and your son is gone and you cant remember any thought you had about him the past 6 months#imagine waking up and not knowing that no one remembers you died#imagine seeing memorials for every hero but you (i mean thats still canon) (but imagine there was a reason for it)#this would change bruce Alot#oh hey if you go further with it where decisions made in response to jasons death dont happen (funeral. hiding his things. etc)#you can keep in the fanon where all of Jason's stuff is left in the manor untouched. instead of hidden like it actually went#no jason victim blaming from bruce to cope with the death. that changes how everyone sees jay bc bruce controls the narrative on jason 👀!?#jason being the only one who remembers. thatd be so fucked. what if no one tells him that memories of his death were just wiped away#that his death just never happened#but what if they do? how does he deal with that? all very exciting to think about#jason todd#red hood#batman#dc comics#i dont know the EXACT timeline so whats happening to tim. is he just here now with his own robin suit and not sure why#man this would be a fun mystery to force bats to chew on
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playingwithwater · 28 days ago
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“Thanks, I Stole Then from The President.”
This is my first fic written on Tumblr and my first fic in the DC fandom. I’ve been lurking and sorry if nothing’s all that canon accurate I’ve only really read the fan fictions on Ao3 this was idea was inspired by this post
Fic under the cut.
BREAKING NEWS: BRUCE WAYNE ON TUMBLR?!
Last night Bruce Wayne attended President Lex Luthor’s gala. According to online sources one young socialite commented on Mr. Wayne’s shoelaces and his response? His response was the tumblr famous, “Thanks I stole them from the President.”
That seemed to be the headline going around the morning after Bruce had infiltrated Luthor’s gala. He had arrived in his bat-suit not planning to actually attend the party as Brucie. Then he had lost sight of Luthor and his newest partner in crime so he went in to investigate.
Breaking into the building was easy. Finding a suit was a little harder but still manageable. It was a spare suit Luther had in one of his offices. He quickly changed out of the bat-suit and into the stolen suit. Bruce hid the bat-suit and joined the party.
Two minutes into the gala he regained sight on Luthor and his newest companion. Five minutes in he was approached by the first socialite. Thirty minutes in was when the line that started it all was said.
“I like your shoelaces,” commented a young man, no older than Dick at the oldest, offhandedly.
“Thanks, I stole them from the president,” Bruce replied before he could think it through completely.
The boy stared at him in shock for a moment. For a second Bruce thought he had taken it literally and he would have to come up with an excuse, but the man just smiled and walked away. It was definitely one of the weirdest interactions Bruce has had so far.
There were no further incidents that night, but when he got home the next morning the couple of his children who were in the manor and awake watched him with an expression of shock and awe.
Namely it was Tim, Cass, and Dick. The last who had broken his arm on patrol three weeks ago and was confined to the manor by Alfred.
Tim looked up from the computer on which he was typing something when Bruce walked in. And Cass’s eyes were wide as she watched Bruce.
“B?” Dick asked after a few silent moments of the three staring at Bruce. “Are you on Tumblr?”
“What?” Bruce replied confused. When Dick had spoken Tim had switched tabs and was typing furiously on his keyboard.
“Do you have Tumblr?” Dick asked again slower.
“No?” Bruce was still confused and his kids seemed to be having some sort of existential crisis.
“Yeah well, hate to say this but Bruce Wayne is trending on Tumblr right now along with the tag Tumblr’s Batman.” Tim interrupted.
“This happened like eight hours ago.”
Tim shrugs and takes a sip of his energy drink, “Tumblr works fast. You should see it when Ao3 goes down for five minutes.”
If Bruce’s thoughts could be seen right now he’s sure that they’re might be a giant question mark floating above his head.
About ten hours of research later and Bruce could say he was still thoroughly confused on how Tumblr works but he could now understand that it might be useful occasionally. He stares at the sign-up screen for a long moment before closing out of it. Making one now after all of this has gone down would be suspicious. Maybe he can commander one from one of his children who may have preexisting accounts.
Meanwhile on Tumblr
Tim watched the chaos going down as people frantically searched for Bruce Wayne’s account on Tumblr. Not that he himself wasn’t also searching for it. He really wanted to know if his adopted dad followed him and had seen some of his shitposts that were meant to never see the light of day after they had been posted. What happens on Tumblr stays on Tumblr.
Five minutes later reveals to the rest of the Bats that Bruce genuinely had no idea what he started with his reply and now felt it was too late to admit to the fact he does and not and never has had tumblr. Ten minutes later sees Cass volunteering to let Bruce use her account. There’s a reason she’s Bruce’s favorite. It’s because of times like this when all the rest of his children are laughing their asses off at him, but Cass is actually more subtle about it.
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britcision · 2 years ago
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Alright, not a lot for you this WIP Wednesday, I have been doing a lot of spring cleaning! But here you go, just a lil Jason getting out there to keep an eye on his family
Featuring Harper Row for the first actual time, cuz she’s great and she deserves to be here!
First part of chapter 13, the rest is, as always, in the tags. Title is subject to change
———————
Hello Crime Lord My Old Friend
About twenty minutes after dropping Danny off at his dorm, Jason was suited up and ready to go.
Well, he’d stayed outside until he’d seen Danny shut the door behind him first. Jason had some fucking manners, though if pressed he couldn’t name who’d taught him them.
Danny’s dorm was about fifteen minutes from one of Jason’s better safe houses, as it happened. Jason had never been to a dorm, but from Danny’s stories?
A step below Teen Titans’ bunks, and those had sucked. Less privacy, smaller rooms, and more people? Who weren’t even part of the same team?
Maybe next semester Jason could offer to let Danny move in. He didn’t need need the safe house.
Red Hood could always buy the building. There were other apartments and while they weren’t luxurious, they beat half his other spots. The neighbourhood wasn’t bad either.
It’d be nice to pay Danny back a bit. Not have him closer. Just. Repay some of the debt by giving him a place to stay, rent free.
And maybe, just a little bit, the part of Jason that enjoyed the romanticism of his period novels kinda liked the idea. An estate for the king on your lands was a big deal back then.
A slightly more modern part of him thought being a landlord for his ruler would also be pretty funny. He figured Danny would enjoy that side too.
And it wasn’t like the guy could complain, since he’d literally given Jason back himself. Yeah, Jason was gonna pull that one out if Danny tried any familiar “oh I can’t accept this” on him.
Fixing his core was pretty damn god level on the favours spectrum. Jason could do whatever the hell he liked and Danny would just have to deal with it.
It cheered him up a little more, kept him in a good mood on the ride back to his safe house. It was more time where he couldn’t help Cass, but seriously?
Danny could change in a matter of seconds and be at her side not much slower. Walls, cars, goons, Jason had this feeling that none of it would slow Danny down.
And yeah, knowing that helped, but there was still a piece of him that only unknotted as he slid his helmet on and headed to the window.
“Hey, Black Bat. Busy?” He asked as the comms switched from earpiece to helmet display.
Of course he wore both. People kept trying to steal his damn helmet. That was also what the internal explosives were for.
The others all piped up when they heard him, Harper and Steph calling cheerful greetings around an ongoing conversation.
“Shit, Hood’s in, this mean I can go back to bed?” Bluebird teased. Spoiler cut her off immediately.
“Hell no, it can’t be a school night, Robin’s here! Great timing though Hood, we’re planning Red Robin’s eulogy and you have some experience there,” Spoiler chirped brightly, and Jason hesitated.
Sucked in a breath. He wasn’t gonna judge anyone else’s coping mechanisms until they got past “heads in a bag” levels.
Best to ignore it, since she wasn’t actually trying to set him off.
What the hell had Tim done since they’d left the manor?
Shaking his head, Jason settled into Red Hood and hopped onto the fire escape, scaling easily to the roof.
“Black Bat?” He repeated instead of answering, and half smiled when Spoiler groaned dramatically.
Black Bat answered in the considerate group pause.
“Not busy. Why?” She sounded amused, not even particularly tired, and Jason relaxed enough to slip all the way in.
“Thinking of going a little out of my way tonight. Wondered if you’d mind a tagalong?” Red Hood asked, hoping he sounded casual.
It wasn’t like he’d been planning to patrol the Alley anyway; his guys had already been told to handle it. He’d have to run around tomorrow night to keep the creepers scared, but he could have a couple off.
The tiny pause before her answer didn’t quite feel like judgement, but Jason muted before blowing out the sigh as she did. It wasn’t like the others needed to know he’d been stressing.
“Sure. Meet at the library?” She’d had his tracker up. Hood nodded, turning and running for the edge of the roof.
“Sounds good.” And they’d probably wound Spoiler up enough, she’d start plotting vengeance for being ignored soon. “So what the hell did Little Red do?”
“Brought Too Fine to the Bat Cave,” Spoiler told him with relish, not noticeably put out by the delay.
Not necessarily a good sign, since she was also this enthusiastic while actively plotting against him.
Wait.
Too Fine was Tucker’s hacker name.
“But he doesn’t know about us,” Red Hood said with a frown, catching an outcropping and swinging on.
“Oh, now you tell me,” Tim groused while the others snickered, “what a shame you didn’t think to when it’d have actually been helpful!”
News to Hood that he was on, probably still in the cave.
“He knows now,” Nightwing chimed in brightly, probably also travelling from the slight strain in his voice.
Hood paused for a moment, letting that sink in before attempting the next jump.
“Is he on comm?” He asked warily, because if Tim brought Tucker to the bat cave, it was entirely possible that they were all outed.
And that Tucker might tell Danny.
Shit, he still had to text Harley. Resolving to do it once he hit the library, he set back to running, throwing himself across another street.
Cass would probably take a little longer to get there.
“He’ll be back, he’s in the bathroom,” Tim explained with a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “It’s not all bad, he’s given me the full story on what happened in Amity Park. Witness account and all.”
“From a witness you let down to the bat cave~” Spoiler sang sweetly across the air.
Red Hood could hear Oracle rolling her eyes as she cut in.
“Tone it down, Batgirl. Bluebird, if you’re still thinking of heading in, could you swing past one last site on your way?” She said firmly, then lightening her tone for their current guest.
“Batgirl who? I’m Spoiler,” Spoiler grumbled, but didn’t push beyond that. None of them did when Oracle invoked the name she’d had second.
Bluebird snickered at her before answering the question, a hint of exertion suggesting she was on the move too.
“I’m not actually in a rush to go home, O, I got all dressed up so I might as well enjoy one last hurrah.”
Right, because she’d be going back to school probably when Danny did.
Harper had always been a damn good hero in Jason’s books, but she valued her retirement and none of them really wanted to ruin it. Unless, apparently, seven bats just had to stalk Jason’s new friends.
Hood would have apologized, but frankly if she’d said no, some of the others couldn’t have come to the gala to be a pain in his ass.
And then he couldn’t have had so much fun fucking with them.
Fine. One cool fruit basket for the Row household, and some rainbow cupcakes for Cullen. He needed practice on frosting roses anyway.
Although that also reminded him.
“Hey Bluebird, have the others filled you in on Phantom?” He asked, cutting off some more background chatter from Spoiler and Tim.
Nightwing and the girls had had hours by now.
“What, your new boyfriend?” Bluebird asked sweetly, and Hood rolled his eyes.
Probably hit the important shit then.
“Sent you a picture?” He asked instead, decidedly not entertaining that question.
Nightwing and Spoiler snickered. Hood flipped off their general directions, settling himself comfortably on the roof of the library to wait for Black Bat.
There was a short pause, the others now wondering what he was getting at. Good.
“In and out of suit,” Bluebird agreed, curiosity tinging with mild suspicion. Being out of retirement clearly wasn’t good for her.
Hood nodded, pulling out his phone and shooting Harley a quick text. It might be moot now, asking her not to mention Red Hood shit in front of Danny, but he might as well.
He still had to ask if Waylon knew. No reason not to do both, just in case. And see if Tucker knew when he got back.
“I know you’re outta the game, but keep the light show to a minimum if you see him around, okay?” He asked, scanning quickly over the list Danny’d cleared for public discussion.
He didn’t know if Tucker would have mentioned it, but he might as well. Cause of death was good, but Jason personally would veto “and the effects it may have now”.
Because fuck Bruce and his need for everyone to show him their weaknesses.
Bluebird definitely sounded curious now, and possibly like she was punching someone.
“Oh? He not big on the electricity?” She wondered aloud, and Hood grimaced.
Because if they were both at Gotham U in engineering… there was actually a chance Harper and Danny would run into each other.
Danny was older, but Harper skipped a couple years and he had no idea what year Danny was in. Fuck, they might be in the same classes. He couldn’t believe he’d never thought of that.
“Not exactly. You mighta seen him around actually, he’s a techie boy too. But he’s not a fan of the electricity flying around,” he explained, Nightwing making background noises that told Hood he hadn’t put the pieces together either.
Good. At least he wasn’t alone.
Bluebird made an interested hum, and probably a finishing blow considering the satisfaction when she spoke next.
“I thought he looked familiar. But then, he’s total Wayne-bait. Yeah, I can keep the good stuff under wraps if I see him around. Gonna guess he’s had some bad shocks in the line of work?”
Hood hesitated and in exactly the same instant Black Bat landed on the roof. Sam had given them all the warning about talking about a ghost’s death, so he could leave it at that.
But…
The way Danny had looked when he explained about Vlad. Yeah, he’d rather they took this seriously. He didn’t want any of his family to hurt Danny, even by accident.
“It’s how he died. He won’t spontaneously combust or anything, but it’s a bad memory.”
Silence reigned while the others absorbed that particular detail, Black Bat crossing to crouch on the roof beside him. Hood leaned over enough to bump their shoulders together.
He could almost feel concern radiating off her, which was an extra weird experience after literally feeling all of Danny’s emotions half the day.
Guess that was where Cass’s liminality was going. It made sense, kind of; despite her occasional trouble speaking, she was pretty much the clearest communicator in the family.
Having another back up way to make herself heard would only fit.
On a whim, he tried projecting comfort back to her.
—————
Tag list: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna
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felidacy · 2 years ago
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Vampire!Tim early Robin days
A little more about the idea I had without any context to what happened before or after. Maybe someday I get enough motivation to actually write and post it. 
The first few months of being Robin for Batman –Batman only never Bruce Wayne, because they aren’t close and beyond nightly activities they do not interact– are a harsh adjustment for Tim. However, not in the way that Agent A, Nightwing, or Batman assume. The training is hard, Tim will not deny that when he bears bruises and broken bones from the sessions they hold, but it is his morals that have the hardest time adjusting. 
Now Tim does not believe in killing when it’s avoidable or else he would have never considered himself a possible candidate for Batman, whom he blackmailed so the man had no option to begin with when it was Agent A who gave him the suit to save Nightwing and Batman. So Tim can’t take all of the blame. Tim had become the cuckoo that snuck into the nest even though both parties denied themselves getting closer to each other. The thing is, Tim even before being Robin or following the pair of vigilantes was desensitized to a more gruesome degree of violence, and quite honestly he couldn’t understand why you should hold back when they are the bad guys. ( Not that any of them knew about the secret of his and he didn’t plan on ever revealing it as well. )
Batman was all about punishing the bad guys, but he never truly committed to the cause of it. He called himself the justice of Gotham, the vengeance that the people needed, and yet he never truly stops them. He is too soft in Tim’s eyes. 
This is why Tim finds himself standing face-to-face with a bunch of asshole goons. Alone even though he shouldn’t be on solo patrols yet, what the bats didn’t know couldn’t hurt them. Batman thought that Tim seriously went home already? To that cold mansion where the silence persists at all times? Safe to say that Tim prefers working in the shadows instead. That belief of Batman makes the man incredibly naive. 
(It hurts less than the alternative of the man knowing, but not caring enough about Tim to make him stop. Tim always cared too much about those that didn’t feel the same way about him and he only realized that when he was dropped by them. So far Batman didn’t so Tim hoped desperately that for once someone could start caring about him the same way.)
“Look at that boys! A little birdy dropped in on us.” The front and biggest man grinned and that earned laughter from his fellow comrades. 
Tim’s eyes went past the four men to the little blonde girl that was held down by another one of them. He had only stopped when Tim intercepted. It was a sickening feeling that began bubbling up in Tim as he took in the disgusting men and what they were about to do, could still do because Tim has yet to free her. Gritting his teeth he can feel the sharp fangs start to dig into his own lips and the taste of blood rushes through his mouth. That is when the familiar greed to get more, to still his hunger, comes over him. Batman should be far away enough by now. Hurriedly Tim glances around to make sure that neither cameras are in the alleyway they are currently in. Satisfied when he spies none of them, Tim retracts his Bo-staff and gets into a fighting stance. 
“You underestimate us if you think you can beat us with those thin arms of yours, Robin! Where is your daddy bats, huh?!” Spats another one of them. 
Of course, that is a true statement when one looks at his physique. Watching as the men spout more poor jokes, he tilts his head to the side much like a curious bird would do. None of them know yet of the danger that will befall them any moment as the eyes behind the mask slowly change to an unsettling dark void. Tim was always more slender, small, and light to the point even Agent A doubted he could put on muscles or grow in size. When the old butler looked at Tim it was as if he was looking at someone else. The pained expression said it all and Tim knew that he was just an awful reminder of a boy that was forever gone. Tim was used to those looks ever since his parents presented him to high society and they wondered if he would even live long. As a result, Tim learned to live off of spite as he began to hate looks of pity just because the human eye was too shallow to see beyond. 
They saw him as a weak human, not anyone but his parents being aware that he couldn’t be any less human. 
He was quite literally the monster. And right now, alone in this alleyway with the goons and a girl that will forget because she’s in too much of a shock, Tim feels like being a monster again instead of being Robin. 
“You are wrong,” Tim states, which makes the goons snarl at him in return and throw swear words at him he isn’t impressed by. “You are underestimating me.” 
It all happens so fast from that point on. The goons pull out their weapons, guns and knives respectively, in their anger and that is what makes them predictable. Tim flashes his bloody teeth at them while the moonlight reflects off of his fangs and lets out an incredibly chilling, hollow laugh that is so unlike the cheery laughter he normally has as Robin. 
But right now he isn’t Robin after all. Being the monster, not acting on the morals of Batman, that is when Tim is the most comfortable. Sadly for them, that also just brings greater danger to them. 
The men are taken by surprise as they stumble back and that is all Tim needs. Flexing his jaw, Tim launches at them. They hardly have a chance to scream as his fangs and hands that sharpened to claws rip at their flesh. Blood splatters against the walls and their cries for help are drowned out by gurgling until they fall silent. One by one he stalks them like a predator, unforgiving just like they had been towards the girl. (Tim would like to say he does it for justice. He is a liar.) Any attacks of them are in the end meaningless as the wounds heal again when the sweet elixir of life for Tim runs down his throat. 
He is exhilarated, the best kind of drug for his kind making him ecstatic. 
- - - -
Only one of the men gets to live long enough to run and spread the word that Robin is dangerous and slaughtered them all. Of course, none of them believed the man. Along with a certain blonde girl that saw more than she was supposed to, but unlike the man she was smarter and held on to the secret. It is Robin, after all, not even Rogues would assume that a child would be capable of such a massacre. 
But then over time, more bodies pile up along with the initial survivor and a warning to them all. Robin would always be close by and show a seemingly sweet smile and act innocent next to Batman and Nightwing, but whenever neither of them was close the teeth behind it were sharp on occasion and the voice was cold whenever directed at them. 
None ever disclosed the older vigilantes about their little Robin that hid in the shadows and held a dangerous edge to himself. They believed that the two were turning a blind eye to the young one (wrong) or that Robin was talented enough to hide it from the two and was barely kept on the good side because the bats had a tight leash on him (right). 
Nobody ever dared to voice out loud that they were thankful the feral child –if one could call him that– was not killing all of them. The underworld of Rogues began fearing Robin to an unreasonable amount and began working on a ‘feral Robin safety measures’ warning system in secret because of his unpredictable behavior. They began to fear for their lives when the boy got more regular solo patrols or even later on when none of the other bats were in Gotham. It was a red alert and not even one breakout would happen then. The bats would always wonder about it and make quips, unaware of the truth. 
(Red Robins paired with the Red Hood nights were the most silent.)
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tortoise-bearing-cups · 2 hours ago
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Identity Crisis
More early Tim. Please look at these panels that they arranged so it looks like there's a gargoyle on the back of the bus stop:
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I wasn't taking this very seriously but the reveal that the random masked shooter is a little old lady, paired with the opening quote about masks taking you outside of normal behavior, has me intrigued.
Vicki Vale is doing a piece on homelessness. This is not how I see her characterized in fic.
LOL the little old lady is proud of herself. Two dead from her first crime, "that's not bad"!
Aw, Tim's nightmare. The parts about Tim's grief feel real. He wants there to be meaning where there is none, and he's angry.
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Because this is comics, Vicki Vale develops photos topless. As you do. And she finds a clue! The police are useless, naturally. If only she could hand it to Batman directly, she'd have a far easier time here.
Fun bit with Tim and Batman about why he can't put on the suit. Tim thinks Batman is forbidding him, but he's making Tim say why he hasn't yet put on the suit, and he's echoing Tim's stuff about symbols back to him. And also saying, I think, that Tim wants to be Robin to get strength from it and move past his fear, but it won't really change how he feels. (Which ... Batman would know, but also putting on a suit to deal with grief is literally your thing, Bats.)
Still, part of being Robin is disobeying orders ... but only if you can pull it off!
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WHAT IS THIS FACE?
This should be the era of "Batman's just an urban legend" but not only does Tim have newspaper photos, Batman saving people is being announced on the radio. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Also this is early enough that Batman doesn't have a grapple gun, he's throwing the damn thing!
This is the second issue where Batman made a quip while grappling away. I find this silly but delightful.
Batman ragging on Vicki Vale for "sticking her nose in" is not delightful. She's the one doing actual detective work!
Alfred bullies Tim for working Christmas Eve. He just buried his mom, let him grieve how he wants. (Even if that is looking longingly at a "magic" suit.)
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I love the pink boxes. Just going whole hog.
Why do I not see more about Tim having visions? (Though technically this one is just another dream.)
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We are already establishing Jason as being a hot-head who got himself killed, and Tim being the guy who figures stuff out and has a plan.
Tim says that Batman will be all right, he's always all right ... but him not being all right is why he's here. And Tim's off!
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This cover is badass, that is all.
"The pleasure of slowly ... unwrapping you!" ????? Do you mean finding out his secret identity? Removing his skin? I would be less distracted by the sexual overtones of this threat if I knew what you were talking about.
So the victims really were random. Once they got that rich guy involved, I thought he was clearing people out of homes he wanted or something. But no, these guys are just doing it for money. I also expected the masks themselves to have the mind control, but they were just for fun, boo. You said the victims showed no signs of toxins, so shouldn't the mind control be in the masks? (That would make this a Mad Hatter crime instead, I guess.)
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I can hear these lines in my head. BTAS voices, of course.
Oh, when the Scarecrow said "unwrapping", he meant Batman's mind. That makes more sense.
Tim, why did you fucking ANNOUNCE YOURSELF, just hit him! Hit him while his back is turned! Vicki Vale had to save herself! ...and they both get fear gassed. Honestly, the encouraging Robin hallucinations are kind of cute. Saved by the hyperfixation.
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Other people have already compared Tim disobeying Batman here to Steph doing it later ... I feel like Batman's order comes off pretty strongly as "I don't believe in you because you don't believe in yourself"--but also that Tim did try every other option to warn Batman, and he didn't even go out as Robin because he takes it very seriously. And he still expected to be fired. Whereas they seemed to go out of their way to make Steph look as hotheaded and wrong in the situation as possible (even numbered Robins hated by editorial represent!) so they aren't that comparable.
Though it would've been extremely funny if Tim had saved Batman's life only for him to be immediately fired, because you know this would just keep happening. Tim would still be like "Whoops, Batman needs me!!" and Batman would have even less control over him, lol.
(Though it would also be extremely sad and awkward. Tim's mom's funeral was this morning. His dad's still in a coma. He's living with the Waynes ... unofficially??)
Also ... Bruce already went to all the trouble of making a new costume with fancy gadgets. And pants!
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I like that they include a diagram of all its nifty features. The little rolls on his sleeves are storage spaces?! The cape has more kevlar layers than the armor? Why do the boots need motion sensors? Whatever, tech is cool, put some everywhere. He's Robin!
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dhampiravidi · 1 year ago
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older!Jason Todd feelings
apparently I’m having thoughts about my guy today. Who can blame me? 🥰 here's a thing about him & my OC, Jayn, when they're a little bit older...
to start, his FC is Peter Gadiot. (yep, let that sink in.)
ANYWAY--
he's 50-something. when he really thinks about it, he's surprised that he's made it this far. Like all the other vigilantes & Gotham-centric people (including his own partner), he's got his own collection of scars (& foraged Batarangs), but that's to be expected. The usual suspects (Jayn, the old ladies in their* neighborhood, the Bats who were still kicking, and the nighttime escorts) always compliment him on his looks, even if he doesn't think he looks all that special. The Pit has slowed his aging; aside from some deepened smile crinkles at the corner of his eyes and slightly darker skin, he hasn't physically changed in decades. Ah well--there is the bone spur that future asshole!Tim had clued him into (long since removed), the scruff he occasionally lets grow in, and the blue that's slowly returning to his eyes in place of some of the Lazarus-tinted green. He still has the nightmares, and some things (prolonged laughter, horror movies, being surrounded by intense cold) still bother him, but Harley's really helped over the years.
he and Jayn said they'd never get married. They agreed when they were maybe 27 that having an actual wedding would just jinx things. If either of them died too early, the other would resurrect them, and yet...they both preferred to stay on top uninterrupted for a while. So, they had a date night (and day) spent mostly outside Gotham, one which ended with them getting tattoos inspired by Pride and Prejudice: “My heart is and always will be yours,” for her, and "You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,” for him. Well, that, and then they put their gelato to-go in the fridge before they had a nice round of sleepy sex. Now they've got matching ring tattoos--those were from their 25th not-anniversary last year.
she eventually sets aside her duties as CFO of WayneTech to run the Martha Wayne Foundation. It keeps her busy in a good way. She and Jason publicly live in the Wayne Foundation penthouse, which is close to all the venues used for charity galas and not far from all the places where Jason teaches. Because he wants to help as many as he can, he rotates between being an adjunct at Gotham U, an adjunct at Hudson, a teacher at a big high school (it'd been poor before "the Waynes" donated to it), and an online tutor...all for English and Drama. Jayn limited him to 2 jobs per semester and forbade him from working at Gotham and Hudson simultaneously. Still, she loves listening to his stories about the kids he works with. And they love their teacher, who wears graphic tees and ankle boots with button-ups, and who sometimes brings his pet to class.
the Red Hood isn't seen as often as the other Gotham heroes. Some of them are younger, newer vigilantes who find it comparably easy to fit nightly patrols into their schedules. Sometimes he envies them, missing the feeling of wind combing through his hair as he zips through the sky, or the combination of adrenaline, satisfaction, and relief that comes with saving someone from a creep. Well, he still experiences that stuff, just not as much. First off, the Red Hood is a reserve guy--he only comes out when Frostbite does, which is if shit has officially hit the fan (ex. planetary invasion, No Man's Land Part 2, the regular teams are out of commission, etc.). Then out come the pistols and gear, none of which he's ever thrown away (assuming it still works). Otherwise, he has to stick to riding his motorcycle, sparring with those who know about his past, and going on the occasional international vacation.
they stopped suiting up for patrol a few months before the twins were born. The kids were the result of a few steamy, excited, condom-less nights (some of which also involved getting high). When Jayn got the positive, she and Jason debated all the reasons why they should or shouldn't be parents, including having weird upbringings, living in a dangerous world, and noticing a little gap in their lives that seemed to want kids. Freddie Arwen and Lydia Wayne-Todd looked nothing like each other apart from their light brown skin, but Jason thought his daughters were perfect the moment he saw them. They still are, even though Freddie keeps bleaching the life out of her pretty, dark brown hair and Lydia's cooking typically tastes like stale refried beans. Both left Gotham years ago, but they make sure to visit once a month.
yes, the clown is dead. Yes, Jason was there when they dissolved the body using lye and water. Yes, he was slightly salty, seeing as how it'd taken the Bats forever to kill the creep. In the end, it'd been Ghost-Maker, Bruce's weird (yet impressive, from a crimefighting POV) ex, who'd been in Gotham tracking some illegal shipment. Apparently, Khoa had been a good boy, following Bruce's rules until he completed his mission. About a half hour later, Joker was found dead. There was an informal, 2-day celebration all across the city, one where everyone was kind to each other, like a reverse Purge. It would become a holiday, much to Bruce's chagrin. Oh, well.
when Jason turned 30, Alfred finally admitted to the Bats that he'd been part of some experimental Brit super-soldier program, one that had slightly increased his intellect, reflexes, and lifespan. Not many of them were surprised.
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cypresscoffin · 5 months ago
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Where is my Javert and Jean Valjean DC superhero au??? It wouldn't be a perfect one-to-one, but stay with me moment as I paint the picture my melatonin brain is concocting.
Obviously to do Batman and Superman we must strip Javert and Valjean of their history and parts of their backstory, which as we all know waters down their characters and creates an unfulfilling experience, but as long as we can provide alternative reasonings for them to maintain their core beliefs, attributes, and dynamics then it can still work out. Also, I'm putting a caveat here to say we also just need to maintain the essence/major roles of Batman and Superman in order for this to work, and you'll see why in a second.
Step one would be Javert, which as OP suggested would be Batman. It's clear why as Javert maintains a broody aesthetic while being a brilliant detective with an incredibly strong and inflexible moral compass. And that would translate well for the bat, but beyond that it all fizzles. Now, as much as he would like us to forget, Batman is not just Batman but also Bruce Wayne. Already we run into four major complications.
1 - Bruce Wayne is a charming personality that convinces the world he is a dumb playboy. Javert on the other hand is very straight forward and unchanging of that. He could never be the same character if we changed that. You could put him and in a suit and call him Javert but it wouldn't be him.
2 - Bruce Wayne is wealthy to the extent that none of us will ever be able to truly fathom. Had Bruce not been born into wealth I could maybe argue this, but the fact of the matter is that being born poor (and also marginalized through his race but that's a separate issue for this topic) influences everything he's ever done. Javert was born into a society that would never accept him which is why he scrambled so hard to be part of the law.
3 - Bruce Wayne loved his parents and even after they were killed he had Alfred to love and be loved by. Through the entirety of his life, Javert had no one. His mother might had raised him as a boy, but clearly he killed all his affections for her, and there was no one to talk him off the ledge. That ledge might have been more metaphorical for Bruce but without Alfred there to reign in his grief Bruce would have been entirely consumed by vengeance.
4 - No matter what Hollywood has been trying to convince us, Batman, at his core, believes in mercy and second chances. While Javert never directly kills anyone he is cruel, violent, and unforgiving. I love Javert, don't get me wrong, but the fact of the matter is he was written to be a symbol of the law and all of its faults. He is not the kind of man that would fund Arkham so it could better rehabilitate its patients, he'd be funding the guards so they wouldn't break out again! And in no world would he allow himself to work alongside criminals like Harley Quinn or Cat Woman.
Truly insurmountable odds to overcome, and I'm not going to even begin to try and solve them because I don't have to! Javert should not be Batman! Valjean should! Every problem I've outlined as for why Javert would not work as Batman fits Valjean perfectly, and we can turn our favorite pseudo-father/butler into our favorite bishop. We can even work the various batkids into it in an organic way
Which batkid is which character is a whole other discussion that I'm not sure I can do justice, but personally I can see Eponine as Dick Grayson, Enjolras as Jason Todd, Cosette as Tim Drake, and Gavroche as Damien Wayne.
What then of our dear inspector? Surely he can't be Superman, or heaven forbid, Joker??? If you actually thought I'd suggest that then I'm ashamed at how I've presented myself. No, it's simple really. Javert would be the Green Lantern.
While it might sound like I threw darts at a wall to end up casting Javert as Ryan Reynold's nightmare, I assure you this works out perfectly for two reasons.
1 - The Green Lantern is just a moniker. While it's true there are many Green Lantern's to pull from in this case we don't have to pick any one man to shoehorn Javert into. This allows us to give Javert an origin story as close to canonical as possible without sacrificing anything. He can still have grown up poor, marginalized, and incredibly bitter and determined. Hell, he can even still have become a cop who served the letter of the law and not the spirit of it. All that needs to happen to make him the Green Lantern is that he is chosen by the ring. How someone is chosen by the ring is simply being able to overcome great fear, and it could be argued that Javert's fear of staying in the gutter his whole is something he overcomes.
2 - The Green Lantern ring is powered by willpower. Look me in the eyes and tell me there exists a man more full of will power than Javert. Sure, it's misguided but by God is it there. It could even be a fun arc to explore where Javert after having spent time with Valjean loses his ring as he loses his faith in the system and he only gains it back as he redefines how he wants to serve and protect.
Javert tried really hard to be like the 19th century french version of Batman if you think about it.
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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 2 years ago
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Danny always wondered what the strings on his finger meant. He had asked Jazz about it when he was younger and she had no idea what he was talking about. She couldn't even see the strings even though he could see them plain as day.
He made the mistake of asking his mother exactly once and never made that mistake again. Jazz eventually found something about it online, stating that there was a legend about the red string of fate connecting the pinky fingers of destined loves. Danny wondered what it meant if he had three.
Being Phantom changed things. For one, the stings would react oddly whenever he had gone ghost. He could feel what he could only guess were the emotions of the people on the other end of the string. They seemed to be reacting to his "death(s)" every time he changed forms and presumably had similar reactions when he "revived".
One seemed to be very worried about him, another frantic in a search for answers and the third was just deeply intrigued and almost...eager? Huh.
/////
Nightwing hated dealing with Klarion, a sentiment the rest of the JL and YJ teams agreed on.
It was even worse since they were in Gotham and the bats were working together to fight him off. No one was sure what he wanted but he seemed to be having a little too much fun battling them.
It was only after they entered the basement this old dilapidated church that he took note of the chanting. -he blamed the concussion for his lack of awareness- As it turns out, Klarion was attracted to Gotham by this one cult preforming ancient magics from this weirdly glowing spellbook they had found. No idea why he was so interested in it but It couldn't be for anything good.
Red Robin came bursting into the room -late to the party but forgiven considering the circumstances- followed closely behind by a shock of blond hair, and for a moment he thought it was Steph, -stupid concussion- but quickly realized it was Bernard, one of Tim's soulmates and the only one he had found so far. His still very CIVILIAN soulmate. "Ugh. Can today get any worse?" Appearently he should have kept quiet because Klarion turned to him wearing a grin like razorwire and said, "I'm glad you asked!" Before sending a burst of red magic from his hand down to where the cultists were fearfully chanting. The explosion was deafening and where the people once stood was now a green and red portal...
/////////
By the time he turned sixteen Danny had gotten pretty good at this ghost thing. Making allies out of some of his old Rouges, making pacts with ghost countries and negotiating treaties between others, many have declared him the new Ghost Prince, regardless of what he had to say on the matter.
Of course the moment he starts to have any self confidence his faith is shaken by some odd supernatural occurrence coming completely out of left field. In this case it was an odd red and green portal opening up right in front of him. He knows he shouldn't, but the strings were leading right into it and he just couldn't resist.
He popped though.
Danny knew he had made some kind of mistake when he saw what he swore was an actual devil, complete with suit, tie and horns. And one of his strings lead directly to him. "You know, being put in a casket is actually looking pretty good right about now."
Devil guy seemed delighted and actually laughed at his humor instead of giving a sarcastic "ha-ha" or concerned sideways glances. Maybe this guy was alright after all.
/////////
Tim was freaking out. One of his soulmates was freaking Klarion! Klarion! Oh God, why??? And who, or with his current luck- what was that glowy guy supposed to be??? Oh no he was also his soulmate??? Wtf?!
Bernard was of no help whatsoever as he introduced himself to both of them using his real name. GFDI Bernard! One of us has to have survival instincts, he was sure of it.
Aka: Au where Tim Drake, Bernard Dowd, Klarion Bleak and Daniel Fenton all meet on the battlefield and discover they're soulmates. Klarion then kidnaps everyone, leaving Nightwing alone and injured with backup on the way.
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redheadjustin · 3 years ago
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Just want to request a platonic batfamily x toddler!reader just a wholesome fluff if that's okay
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So, Talia wasn’t the only one that created a child with Bruce. She was just the only one to know he was Batman and the only one to actually do the do with him. You see, project cadmus wanted to create children of the justice league to replace them if they ever went rogue. It seemed that they hadn't learned anything from Superboy AKA Connor Kent.
Cadmus started with Batman as since he was powerless the scientists did not have to worry about any powers or any gaps in DNA. But, it’s important to note that YOU ARE NOT A CLONE. You are the son of Batman. Your mother remains unknown but Bruce will never stop looking.
Ironically it was Superboy who found you. It was another routine audit of cadmus to make sure no clones were being made. And no clones were being made, just children with accelerated growth. So you could imagine that the Bat Family were a bit upset that someone had created a son of Bruce without him knowing, again.
Bruce, while angry with cadmus, had no anger for you. You didn’t ask to be created. With Bruce being Bruce he took you in without a second thought. He would be damned if he let you suffer for being created. Though he was stretched for time he would make sure his new three year old son would at least see his father once a day. And it’s not like you’d be lonely with your brothers and Alfred to keep you company.
Dick, being the oldest, immediately took charge of your care whenever Bruce was out on patrol or a mission. Dick loves to call you his ‘little elephant’ just to hear you giggles. He makes sure your closet is always stocked with Nightwing shirts. Hey always makes sure you’re the first to receive one of Alfred’s famous cookies. Most nights he’ll kiss you goodnight just after he returns from patrol, still in his Nightwing suit.
Jason, the sarcastic little shit, taught you how to cuss in child friendly words, much to Bruce, Dick and Alfred’s dismay and Tim’s amusement. He loves watching marvel movies with you. You don't get to see Jason a lot as he seems to have an argument with Bruce every other week. But, Jason always makes time to see the baby bat of the family, whether Bruce is mad or not.
Tim, the undiagnosed insomniac he is, loves to take naps with you. He also tries to not drink so much coffee with you around as he doesn’t want to set a bad example for when you grow up. He’s the one to supervise you in the Batcave. Tim is also the one to suggest to Bruce to set up a play area in the Batcave. Tim is also the one who designs a super suit for you for gatherings with the Justice League and when Tim has to babysit at Titans Tower.
Damian is just happy to not be the youngest anymore. Damian keeps his distance as he’s scared to death of corrupting you. He wants to make sure you’re better than he ever was or ever could be. He changes his mind after you crawl into his bed one night after a nightmare and a thunderstorm. After that Damian makes sure to bring you your snacks and juice while you play in the Batcave.
Your family is crazy and dysfunctional but you feel like the luckiest kid in the world
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eliemo · 2 years ago
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Savior Complex
When Bruce comes back from the dead, Dick goes nonverbal. Nobody seems to have the time to notice.
Things were supposed to be better now that Bruce was back. 
And they were. They were. Dick knew it was selfish to feel anything other than relieved. Tim had started smiling again, Jason had actually come home and stayed, the girls had all lost the tension in their shoulders, and Alfred had stopped looking so unbearably haunted. 
And Bruce was alive. His father was alive, back home like nothing had changed, their broken little family gradually repairing the damage that had been done, putting everything back together piece by piece. 
But the weight that had settled over Dick’s chest ever since he’d been told Batman was dead, that it was his responsibility to put the cowl on, still hadn’t lifted. It had only gotten heavier. 
Selfish, that voice in his head whispered every time he thought about saying something about it. Everything’s always about you, isn’t it? 
Of course things were going to take a little time to go back to normal. Of course everyone was going to need a little time to forgive Dick. 
He’d been the one calling the shots while Bruce was gone, and he was well aware that some of his decisions had been the wrong ones. He was the oldest, the mantle of Batman had gone to him (he hadn’t wanted it, he’d never wanted it, not for a second and it wasn’t fair that he hadn’t even been given a choice) and with that came the safety of his Robin and the rest of the bats. 
And so when Tim had grown obsessive, adamant that Bruce was still alive, Dick had made his choice. 
Taking Robin away had broken Tim, a deep anger shining in his little brother’s eyes that Dick had never seen before, the two of them shouting themselves hoarse in the empty cave until Tim had stormed upstairs and Dick had collapsed on the cold floor, the weight of the world sending him crashing back down to earth in an undignified heap. 
He’d wanted Tim by his side more than anything. He had Jason, but Red Hood’s location and schedule were unreliable, and his methods still weren’t something Dick was always comfortable with. Cass, Stephanie, and Barbara were still constants, steady and safe, but they weren’t Robins. They had their own identities, their own skills and motives. 
Damian had taken the mantle of Robin without a word, falling into the role easily, the name fitting like a glove. It was exactly what Dick had needed at the time, but it still terrified him to see his baby brother, still so young, still not ready, put on the suit years too soon. 
But keeping Tim on as Robin would have been selfish. No matter how much Tim begged- begged Dick not to take this from him, begged him to believe that Bruce was alive (Dick had been the one to identify his body, right alongside Clark and Diana. He’d buried their father’s body and Tim wanted him to have hope) Dick wouldn’t be swayed. He was Batman now, that was what they wanted, and the decision was his.
It was the only option, because he’d seen that kind of delusion before. He’d seen it in Bruce in the weeks that followed Jason’s death. The panic, the desperation, a grieving mind unable to grasp onto the reality of the loss it had suffered so suddenly, frantically latching onto false hope. 
It was going to get Tim killed. He needed time, needed to grieve and process the death of his father properly, or Dick was going to lose him too. 
And Dick had been certain that he would shatter if he lost one more person. He was barely holding on as it was.
He’d recognized the look on Tim’s face a heartbeat too late, a twisted expression of hatred and cold fury that had been reserved for the first person that had taken the mantle away. 
“You’re acting just like Jack, you know,” Tim had snarled, almost unrecognizable, and Dick’s heart had stopped. “Maybe even worse than him.” 
It had been the last thing his baby brother had said to him, Dick’s worst nightmare come to life, because then Tim had been gone too. He’d left, chasing his delusions, searching for a father that was buried under their home. 
And Dick had been left with the weight of the world, a cowl he’d never wanted sitting heavy on his shoulders, surrounded by a broken family and a city looking to him for justice. He’d never felt more alone in his life. 
And then Bruce was back.
 Tim had been right, smiling like the first ray of sunlight through the clouds, and Dick wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel guilty for not believing him in the first place. He didn’t know if he was supposed to apologize. 
Apparently, it didn’t matter. Tim wasn’t speaking to him either way. 
But that was fine. He just needed time, Dick could understand that. Bruce was back, happy to take back his mask and let Dick return to his own. 
He was back and things were just… supposed to return to normal. 
And they were, gradually. For everyone else at least. Dick was finding it a little more difficult to readjust when everyone was clearly so angry with him. 
Tim refused to be in the same room as him, gathering up his things and stalking to his bedroom or to the cave anytime Dick so much as breathed the same air as him. The only time they were seen together was during meals, and Tim spent the entire time either pointedly ignoring his existence or sending deadly glares across the table when he thought Alfred wasn’t looking. 
He had every right to be angry, Dick reasoned with himself. It didn’t matter that Dick had been left floundering with a responsibility he was too young and unprepared for, suddenly the head of a family he was terrified to lose, desperate to keep Tim alive above all else. 
He hadn’t listened. He hadn’t- couldn’t - believe in Tim’s desperate hope. If he’d just set aside his doubt and grief, if he’d just helped Tim look, Bruce could have been home safe sooner. Dick would still have his brother.
He needed to apologize. He wanted to, and he’d tried, doing everything he could to finally talk things out with Tim, but he may as well have been invisible. The most he got was a scowl as Tim pushed past him. 
So he’d let Tim come to him on his own time, no matter how long it took. It didn’t matter that it felt like a knife to the chest every time he was ignored or talked over or glared at. 
And then it wasn’t just Tim. 
After their initial reunion, after tight embraces and choked apologies and explanations nobody could even begin to let sink in, the usual tenderness and fond smiles had been ripped away. 
Bruce wasn’t bothering to keep it a secret that he wasn’t happy with how Dick had handled things at home. He’d been the one to promise Tim the mantle of Robin would never be stripped from him again, that he’d step down on his own time. He’d made his opinion very clear, eyes tight and exhausted throughout the lecture, body still weak and recovering from wherever the hell it was he’d been these last few months. 
Dick knew he deserved the disappointment. He’d had no right to take Robin away, no right to push his brother to his limit when he knew he was going to lose him, but…
But Bruce had been dead. He’d been dead, and there had been no Batman, and Dick hadn’t known what to do. 
Dick could handle Bruce’s cold stares, curt greetings and terse orders over the next couple weeks as he integrated back into the family, ignoring the furrowed brows and skeptical looks out on patrol. 
He was angry, and he had just as much of a right to be as Tim did. If he needed to take out his frustration by being a little bit more stern, stricter on schedules and cases and fights, his words more biting than they needed to be, Dick understood. 
And if it was only directed at Dick, Bruce’s warm smiles and gentle praise given freely to everyone else, then Dick… Dick could handle that too. 
He wasn’t sure what he’d done to warrant Jason’s fury, but he knew he probably deserved it just the same. There always seemed to be something. Dick was always doing something wrong lately. 
Jason scoffing in the face of Dick’s smile, narrowing his eyes in a scathing glare and storming off in a huff like Dick had taunted him instead of offering a simple greeting was enough to send Nightwing scrambling to the nearest bathroom, halfway to a panic attack by the time he locked the door behind him and sank to the floor. 
But that was fine too. Because Jason was getting along with the rest of the family, even his relationship with Bruce better than it had been in years, and Dick had never seen his brother look so relaxed. 
As long as Dick wasn’t in the room with them. 
Cass was always harder for Dick to read, never one to be openly angry, but it wasn’t hard to come to the conclusion that she was annoyed with him too. Or maybe she was just picking up on the other’s behavior, picking sides and avoiding him to be safe. Stephanie seemed to be doing the same, always glued to her sister’s side. 
Dick didn’t have the energy to try and piece together every little thing he’d done wrong, and with everyone treating him like he was invisible or an unwanted nuisance, he didn’t want to take his chances trying to approach either of them. 
Cass and Stephanie had fought at his side when he’d put the cowl on, and god knew he’d made mistake after mistake on patrol. Cass could take her pick of reasons to be pissed at her older brother. 
Barabara at least didn’t seem to have an issue with him, and Dick didn’t have words for how grateful he was for that. 
But Barabara was just… so busy. He barely saw her outside meals, and even then her appearances were rare. Oracle was scrambling to clean up the mess Bruce’s disappearance and reappearance had caused, always overworked and exhausted. 
Dick had made his way into the cave while she was buried in a new case file, (making sure that Tim wasn’t there first, ignoring the way his heart ached at the precaution) with the intent of gently coaxing Barabara away from the computers. 
He should have seen it coming, Oracle already run ragged, but Dick flinched like he’d been hit when Barbara snapped at him, whirling around with an ice cold glare. 
“Dick, get out,” she’d practically snarled, seething with animosity he’d grown uncomfortably accustomed to lately. “I don’t want your help!” 
It wasn’t anything personal, Dick knew that. There was no reason for his eyes to start burning, for his chest to grow tight and heavy. He’d forced his best smile, the type reserved for paparazzi and pushy interviewers, wished her luck and did everything he could not to run out of the cave like he was being chased. 
It was fine. She wasn’t angry at him- Barbara would track him down eventually to apologize, and then they’d grab food and the entire exchange would be forgotten. 
Except Barbara never tracked him down, never apologized, and Dick found himself avoiding her like the plague. 
And that was fine too. Everyone just needed a little time. It would all go back to normal soon.  
And then Dick stopped talking. And that was about as far from normal as he could get. 
He wasn’t even sure when it had started, most of his days spent in silence now anyway, only occasionally offering a quiet greeting or thank you to Alfred when they passed each other. 
He’d only noticed it after patrol one night, Bruce asking for a routine status report from everyone who was out that night over the comms. Dick had waited patiently for his turn, hating how the sound of his family’s voices made his gut churn with anxiety now, and opened his mouth to send the all clear. 
Only to choke on his own words, nothing but silence escaping his parted lips. 
Dick had snapped his mouth shut, hands suddenly hot and clammy under his gloves, throat unbearably tight, and tongue like heavy stone against his teeth. 
He sent a text to Oracle, reassuring her that he was fine and asking her to relay a message to the others that his comms had just been damaged. It was a flimsy lie, but he may as well take advantage of being treated like an afterthought. 
There was no change, no improvement for the rest of the night, Dick barely managing a pathetic sounding whine from his own chest on the ride home. 
Thankfully the rest of the team had already dispersed by the time he pulled into the cave, the sunlight slowly filtering in over Gotham’s desolate rooftops. 
He got away with a quick smile and a wave to Batman as he passed the Cave’s computers, his chest sparking to life with something achingly warm when Bruce paused to look him over, at least still caring enough to make sure Dick was uninjured after patrol. 
The bare minimum shouldn’t feel so nice. 
“You alright?” Bruce asked, and Dick had froze, completely taken aback despite the tightness still lingering in his guardian’s voice. “Oracle said your comms were damaged.” 
Dick plastered on his best smile, peeling off his mask and nodding absently in Bruce’s direction as he put away his weapons. 
Bruce was silent a moment, watching carefully before turning away with a sigh. “Alright. Make sure they’re working before you go out again.” 
He’d sent a noncommittal thumbs up, well aware something so informal would send Bruce up the wall. Maybe if Dick was anyone else, Bruce would have cared enough to say something. 
He’d expected to just sleep it off, to wake up in the afternoon that next day and regain his voice like he’d never lost it, but the panicked dread in his chest only grew when there proved to be no change the rest of the day. 
Or the day after that. Or the rest of the week. 
Dick wasn’t unfamiliar with going nonverbal. Bruce had episodes like this, less now than he’d had when Dick was younger, and Alfred had made sure Dick knew how to hold a basic conversation in sign language for when his dad went mute for days at a time. 
It had happened to Tim before, and Cass had been completely mute when they’d first brought her in, still occasionally more comfortable in silence and hand gestures than anything verbal. 
Dick hadn’t had anything like this happen to him in years. Not since the pain of his parent’s death had still been fresh, his life with Bruce foreign and daunting. 
It had never lasted more than a few hours, but Bruce had always been right there with him, a steadying presence at his side, keeping the panic at bay, always so gentle and reassuring. 
Dick had no doubt that he’d still have that kind of help from Bruce if he asked, if this had happened six months ago. If Dick hadn’t fucked everything up beyond repair. 
It was selfish enough that he was going nonverbal over problems that he had created all on his own. He wasn’t going to make it anyone else’s problem. 
And it wasn’t like he had to do much to hide it. Nobody was talking to him, anyway. 
“Master Richard.”
Dick jumped, pulled from his thoughts and freezing at the top of the stairs. Alfred’s habit of appearing from the shadows was almost as bad as Batman’s sometimes. 
Alfred’s hands were folded behind his back, a barely there pinch of his eyebrows giving away his concern, and Dick’s heart sped up when he realized the butler intended on having a conversation. It had been over a week since Dick had been able to say a word, and the idea of even trying made him nauseous. 
He raised his eyebrows, signaling for Alfred to continue, and the older man’s shoulders dropped slightly. 
“I only wanted to check in on you,” Alfred said, and Dick was not going to tear up over something so small, a meaningless show of kindness. It was Alfred’s job. “I’ve noticed you’ve been a bit distant lately.” 
Dick just shrugged, not able to do much else, fighting to keep the lazy smile from slipping. He might have missed it, if he hadn’t known the butler so long, but something in Alfred’s eyes hardened. 
“Master Richard,” Alfred said again, and Dick quickly averted his gaze. “Forgive me, but I hardly think it’s fair to take this out on me as well.” 
Dick blinked at the floor, furrowing his brow as Alfred’s cold words hit him like a bucket of ice water, leaving nothing but confusion washing over him. 
What? He wanted to ask, scrambling to make sense of the sudden hostility. What the hell are you talking about? But he couldn't even bring himself to open his mouth, instead forcing himself to lift his head and glance up warily at the butler. 
“I understand that things are difficult right now,” Alfred continued, and Dick realized too late that this was quickly becoming a lecture, not a check-in. “And that things are… a bit tense with the rest of the family. But they’ve all managed to work through their differences. They’ve repaired what we lost. Things are good, sir. Perhaps if you… put in the same effort to-” 
Dick stumbled back like he’d been slapped, back finding the cold stair railing as his eyes went wide, pooling with hot tears he didn’t even bother to try to blink away. 
Put in the effort? Him? Like that wasn’t the only thing he’d been doing for weeks? Trying over and over again to get Tim to talk to him, to have just one civil conversation, apologizing time and time again and holding out hope that his baby brother would at least look him in the eyes again one day. 
Doing every little thing he could to get back on Bruce’s good side, frantically trying to explain his reasoning for the things he’d done under the cowl without making it sound like excuses, following every little instruction without question, every order, grasping for any chance to prove himself still worthy to be on the receiving end of Batman’s love. 
Jumping through hoops to try to undo whatever had made the rest of his siblings so angry with him, keeping a smile on his face anytime he passed them, desperate for Jason or Damian or Cass to just smile at him again. 
He’d kept an eye on them, helping how he could from a distance until they decided he was welcome in the family again because that was what they’d wanted. They’d all made themselves perfectly clear. 
He’d done everything he could, putting himself in the line of fire just to try to get Barbara to take a break despite knowing, deep down, that it would only be met with more anger. 
Nothing he’d done had been enough, it was never enough, and now Alfred was mad at him too. Alfred, who had more patience and love than anyone Dick had ever met in his life. 
Dick couldn’t breathe.
Through his rapidly blurring vision, Dick thought he saw the hardened look slowly fade from Alfred’s face, something softer taking its place as his breathing hitched. 
“Richard-”
Whatever he’d been going to say was interrupted by heavy footsteps, followed by an all too familiar huff, and Dick didn’t need to turn to know Jason had stopped in the hallway with his arms crossed, watching the exchange with scrutinizing eyes. 
“So,” Jason said after a heartbeat, and Dick did his best not to flinch. “Finally lecturing the golden boy?” 
Alfred sighed, the sound sharp and curt, and Dick felt like he was invisible again. “This is not a lecture.” 
“Then what the fuck is the point in talking to him?” 
“Master Jason-” 
“No,” Jason snapped, and suddenly his brother was right in front of him, eyes narrowed in poorly concealed fury. “He needs to get it through his thick skull that this silent treatment shit is fucking stupid!” 
“Language,” Alfred said, but it sounded weary and defeated. “Perhaps-”
“He’s being a child.” And then Jason was staring right at him, and Dick couldn’t bring himself to look away. “We have the right to be pissed at you after everything that happened, Dickhead. Things are weird right now, if anyone should get that it’s you. The least you could do is admit you fucked up with Tim and give us all some time. Ignoring everyone to try and make us feel like shit isn’t fair. You know damn well Bruce has enough on his plate right now, and I don’t have time for your bullshit either. No one does.” 
That's what they thought? That he was giving them the silent treatment out of spite like they hadn’t been the ones to happily pretend he didn’t even exist? 
It didn’t matter that he’d never lashed out like that before. It didn’t matter that he’d never consider doing anything to hurt his family like that. It didn’t matter that he’d spent weeks trying to get someone, anyone to talk to him. 
They were mad at him for what he’d done to Tim. He understood that, he knew he shouldn’t have taken Robin away. He should have believed him when he said Bruce was alive. He should have listened. 
But nobody else had had to watch what Jason’s death did to Bruce. Nobody else had seen the episodes of delusion and panic, insisting that someone long dead, buried less than a mile away, was alive and well. That their death had never happened. 
Nobody but Dick had to be terrified of living through that again. Nobody but Dick seemed to understand that he’d been trying to save Tim’s life. 
Dick just stared back at Jason and said nothing, because he couldn’t say anything. He was fairly sure trying to sign a response would only make his brother more furious, because how dare Dick be the one breaking down when he was the one always hurting everyone else. 
Jason’s eyes darkened, and suddenly Dick was being shoved back against the railing, refusing to let himself cry out when his back hit the wood. His brother was already turning away, shoulders hunched as he stalked down the stairs. 
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, before throwing another glare over his shoulder. “You’re fucking unbelievable, Grayson.” 
Dick couldn’t move, staring at the empty spot at the top of the stairs long after Jason had disappeared. His vision was growing blurrier by the second, breaths labored and spiraling into something dangerously close to hyperventilating, and he shakily wrapped his arms around his middle in a futile attempt to provide any sort of comfort. 
“Master Richard,” Alfred said softly, far more gentle than Dick deserved. “Is everything alright, dear boy? Is there something else going on?” 
Dick didn’t even bother trying for a response, dropping his gaze and keeping it glued to the carpet as he pushed himself away from the stairs and down the hall, stumbling slightly when his knees buckled. He slipped back into his room, wondering why he’d even bothered to leave in the first place, shutting the door behind him without another sound. 
-
Things came to a head during their next mission. 
It was a routine drug bust, a rapidly growing organization Bruce had been staking out for a couple of weeks now, tracking the heart of the operation to an old abandoned warehouse near the docks. 
It was something two or three of them could have dismantled on their own, but Batman seemed worried about hostages- something about whispers of the Penguin being connected, the crime lord growing desperate- and so Bruce had asked the rest of them to accompany him. 
Dick was given his orders in the cave while they were suiting up, but other than that nobody said a word to him. At least his family had finally stopped pretending he simply didn’t exist, choosing instead to openly glare and scowl and glower at his every little move. 
That was fine. Everything was fine. 
The mission itself wasn’t particularly eventful. There had been more men, more guns, than Dick had been expecting, but it was a game plan so familiar Dick could have executed it in his sleep. Fortunate, considering he’d felt dead on his feet long before he’d lost his voice. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to shut his eyes and rest.
They’d waited to strike until Cass and Tim had confirmed there were no hostages anywhere in the building, just antsy, impatient men armed to the teeth, patrolling every corner. 
Batman gave the order and they sprang from the shadows in sync, the flimsy overhead lights flickering, their family moving as one, lethal together, like nothing had changed. 
Dick had missed this feeling, of knowing he was a part of them, crucial to their movements, an essential piece of the family. For a moment, the weight and grief lifted from his shoulders, chest just light enough for him to take a breath for the first time in what felt like weeks. 
And yet he couldn’t help but wonder if things would be going smoother if he hadn’t come along. He wondered if they even really needed him here. They certainly didn’t want him. 
The goons were taken down in less than fifteen minutes, the few who were still conscious secured and left by the door for the cops, Batman finally dropping his guard and ordering the others to sweep the rest of the building before dispersing. 
And that, of course, was when everything started to go wrong. 
Dick had grappled back to the building's rafters, keeping an eye out for approaching sirens and watching his siblings work, content to be their silent eyes and ears until they parted ways. 
His vantage point was the only reason he’d seen the attack coming. 
Somehow, despite Bruce’s thoroughness, they must have miscounted, allowed one of the thugs to evade capture and hide out until everything settled. 
Dick could see him now, slinking through the shadows towards the shattered window, and a chill ran down his spine when he saw the glint in the man’s eye, gaze locking onto where Red Robin was standing guard, the vigilante’s back to the thug, distracted by whatever Oracle was saying in his ear. Dick was moving before his mind even caught up with his body, barely aware of what he was doing. 
Tim would have had time to move. The man was slow, shaken up and unsteady, and Red Robin was more than capable of dodging the shot before it came and knocking out his assailant in the blink of an eye. 
All Dick had to do was warn him. 
But no matter how much he tried, desperately fighting to scream himself hoarse, burning tears of frustration welling in his eyes as he vaulted forward, not a sound left his mouth. 
There wasn’t time. He didn’t have time. 
Nightwing slammed into the thug’s side, both of them fighting to keep their footing as they stumbled across the concrete. Dick grabbed both of his wrists and wrenched them downward, swerving to plant himself firmly in between Tim and the barrel of the gun. 
The man was frantic, eyes wide and bloodshot under his ski mask, fighting like a wild animal. He was heavier than Nightwing, using his weight and uncoordinated flailing to send Dick stumbling back, struggling just to pry the gun away so he could- 
He heard the shot before he felt the pain. 
“Nightwing!” 
Dick’s back hit the concrete, the warehouse ceiling swimming into focus just as he registered the agony in his side, shaky hands hovering over the puddle of crimson blossoming just above his hip. 
There was a blur of movement somewhere above him, and Nightwing was distantly aware that he needed to move, get back on his feet and get the gun out of the man’s hand before he landed a killing blow and went after someone else, but suddenly every bone in his body was just as unresponsive as his voice. 
A body dropped to the ground a few feet away, an awful sounding thud echoing in his ears, and Dick pulled his gaze away as a barrage of color was suddenly rushing forward. 
Red Robin was crouching in front of him now, alive and unharmed, and Dick let himself breathe, pained and trembling as it was. Tim was staring at him in horror, shoulders tense as his gaze dropped to the bullet wound. The fear and concern in his eyes shined as clear as day, even through the mask, and for a second, just a second, it was like everything was okay again. Like he had his brother back. Like Tim still cared. 
And then, like a string had been cut, it was gone again, Red Robin’s face twisting into a scowl. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Nightwing?” 
I don’t know, Dick wanted to say, more than anything. I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Tim. 
And then there was a weight being pressed against his side, blinding pain shooting through his body, and Dick lost himself to the pull of unconsciousness. 
-
He couldn’t remember how he got back to the Batcave, deposited on a cot in the medical wing, but it wasn’t hard to put the pieces together. 
Dick could vaguely recall the car ride back, filtering in and out of awareness, voices floating all around him, all of them distantly familiar, all of them furious. They were always furious with him now. He was so tired. 
“Put pressure on the wound!” Someone had shouted, and the pressure on his stomach had worsened, the pain dizzying.
There’d been an awful choking sound, something that sounded like a strangled scream, nearly drowned out by the familiar hum of the Batmobile’s engine being pushed to its limits. Dick thought it might have been coming from him. 
“Dick! Calm down!” Another voice, just as angry. He hadn’t been able to recognize who it was. “You’re okay! You’re okay, we’ve got you. We’ve got you, Nightwing. Just breathe. Breathe! Please, just breathe. You’re gonna be okay!” 
“You need to stop the bleeding.” 
“What do you think I’m trying to do? Dick, calm down! It’s just me!” 
Everything had been too much, the backseat of the car crowded and unfamiliar, voices too loud, passing streetlights a blur of piercing light. 
“What’s wrong with him?” Someone else had said. “I had it handled! He just-”
“Wait until he’s not bleeding out to be pissed at him, Replacement! Jesus- just shut up and let me focus!” 
Dick had lost track of the voices soon after that, letting himself slip, letting the pain and confusion wash over him like a blanket. 
And now he was here, laying in the bat cave with the steady beep of the heart monitor filling the heavy silence, stripped of his suit with his aching body wrapped in bandages. 
It felt like he’d been hit by a truck, the ever present cold weariness still settled across his chest, but he was alive. They’d brought him back home in one piece, like they always did. 
He couldn’t find it in him to be relieved this time. 
Maybe it would have been better if he’d died there, bleeding out on the warehouse floor. They wouldn’t need to be angry with him anymore, and he’d have gone out saving Tim. That was all he’d wanted to do in the first place.
Keeping Tim alive had been all that had mattered to Dick. Trying to keep him safe was what had lost him his baby brother in the first place.
Dick’s eyes flickered to the movement at the small medical bay’s entrance, forcing a small smile when Bruce froze, their eyes locking. 
He tried to say something, anything, an apology at the tip of his tongue, but he wasn’t surprised when he couldn’t even open his mouth. 
Something in Bruce’s eyes darkened, and Dick’s heart sank. “That was a ridiculous stunt you pulled.” 
It was the only way to save Tim. I just wanted to be useful again. I just want to keep you all safe. But he couldn’t say that, no matter how badly he wanted to. All he could do was shrug. 
Bruce sighed, visibly trying to compose himself, an unsteady hand moving to run through disheveled hair. Dick hadn’t seen much of Bruce the last few days, keeping to himself to save everyone the trouble, and now he could see how exhausted the man looked, the dark circles under his eyes worse than ever, expression far away, brow heavy. 
Dick wondered if that was his fault too.
“This is getting out of hand, Dick,” Bruce said, and Dick couldn’t look away. “I expected better from you, especially out on the field.”
I know. I know, I'm sorry. I love you, I'm so sorry. 
“I know I left you with a lot on your shoulders,” Bruce continued. “I know it wasn’t fair to you. I know, Dick. You made some mistakes and decisions that I wasn’t… thrilled about. I know I was harsh on you, and I’m- I’m sorry. But you did well. You did well despite your mistakes, just like I knew you would.” 
Dick didn’t move, frozen on the cot, terrified of shattering the illusion, losing the hint of warmth in Bruce’s strained voice that he hadn’t heard in weeks. 
“It’s fine that you’re angry,” Bruce said. “You can be mad at me. I don’t care. But I thought I could trust you to put that aside when you’re wearing the mask. You could have gotten yourself killed tonight.” 
Dick just nodded, squeezing his hands into fists so tight he thought his nails might draw blood along his palms. 
“You should know better.” The silence hung over them, heavy and unrelenting, and Dick didn’t raise his head again, even when Bruce gave a curt sigh. “How are you feeling?” 
Dick just shrugged, each nonverbal response filling him with more and more shame, practically able to feel Bruce’s rising frustration from the other end of the room. 
“Good,” he said, cold and gruff as he turned away. “When you’re ready to act like an adult we’ll be waiting upstairs for you. We need to talk.” 
And with one last glance at the heart monitor he was gone, heavy footsteps echoing across the cave walls before fading, the hum of the elevator eventually falling away, leaving Nightwing to lay in silence. 
He didn’t leave them waiting for long. Whatever painkillers they had him on were working wonders, letting him stand with only minimal discomfort for the moment, and the sooner he got this over with, the sooner he’d never have to do it again. 
The halls were empty as he stumbled through them, everything eerily silent, and he came to the unsettling conclusion that they were all waiting for him, the harsh light from the living room guiding him forward like a beacon. 
And just like he’d feared, there wasn’t a single person missing when he turned the corner. 
Jason, Tim, Stephanie, and Damian had commandeered the largest couch, all sitting with their arms crossed and face twisted into scowls, and the aggression brimming in Tim’s eyes nearly sent Dick running. Barbara was next to them, looking unbearably disappointed, and Cass was curled up in the armchair, her expression unreadable. Bruce was the only one standing, and Dick suddenly couldn’t bring himself to look up from the carpet. 
“Grayson.” Damian, surprisingly, was the first to speak. His voice was clipped and even, reminding Dick of Bruce during a debrief. “How is your injury?” 
Dick figured he couldn’t get away with just a simple shrug this time, opting instead to raise his head just long enough to give a weak thumbs up and a smile that didn’t come close to reaching his eyes, judging by his family’s blank, disapproving stares. 
“Christ, sit down,” Jason said, arms crossed over his chest. “You look like you’re about to fucking keel over.” 
Dick did as he was told, feeling a bit like a man being led to the gallows, shoulders hunched as he waited for the inevitable. The wound in his side twinged when he lowered himself into the other couch across from his brothers, hands spasming as he pressed against the bandage under his shirt. 
“Alfred patched him up,” Bruce said, and Dick dropped his head again. “He’ll be alright as long as he rests.” 
“Good,” Tim said, and something in Dick’s heart twinged at his little brother at least acknowledging his existence. “Maybe being benched will knock some sense into him. What the fuck was that, Dick?”
Even if Dick could talk, it wasn’t like he’d have an answer to that question. He warily raised his eyes to his little brother, hair falling into his eyes, mouth kept shut. 
“You took a bullet for me that I would have had time to handle if you had just tried to warn me! But- what? It’s some kind of power play? You don’t want to talk to me because you’re mad? What are you, fucking five?” 
Dick saw Barbara shift, sharing an unreadable glance with Cass, her hands folded in her lap. “Tim-” 
“No, I’m sick of this!” Tim snapped. Dick hadn’t heard him this upset since the Robin mantle had been officially handed over to Damian. “You told me I was crazy, Dick. You wouldn’t listen to me, you… I lost my dad. I lost my dad and then you took away the one thing I still had and then… and then I lost all of you too. And now… I’m allowed to be pissed. I needed time. You giving me the silent treatment isn’t fair.” 
“Yeah, and I don’t know what the rest of us did to deserve it,” Jason piped up, glaring daggers across the living room. “But it’d be great if this pity party could stop. You’d think it’d be a wake up call when I’m the one telling you to suck it up and get along with everyone.” 
“It is incredibly immature, Grayson,” Damian added. “Even for you.” 
Dick didn’t know what to do, stuck staring straight ahead at nothing now, letting their words wash over him without a fight. He knew they were right, that they should be angry and disgusted, that he was being stupid and childish but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to sink into the floor. He wanted to disappear. He wanted to stop causing them so much pain. 
He didn’t even try to say anything. He didn’t have any words left to fight to get out. There was nothing he could do to make this better. 
Maybe they’d tell him to leave, that he was no longer welcome, on the team or in the family. Maybe this would finally be the end of Bruce’s rope. He’d lost all his chances. He wouldn’t be one of them anymore.
His eyes burned, chest heavy at the thought, but he forced himself to sit perfectly still, nails digging into his palm as he waited for more. 
“Dick,” Bruce said, and it was nothing short of a miracle that Dick didn’t break down at just the sound of his own name said with so much disappointment. “We can work through this. We can fix this as a family. But I need to know what’s going on. If there’s more to this, you have to talk to us.” 
Dick couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t talk, forced into silence, drowning under the weight of their stares, no escape in sight. 
Bruce was in front of him now, towering over Dick and forcing the younger man to meet his gaze. Bruce was always so controlled, always careful with his emotions, but Dick had known him long enough to be able to tell when Batman was furious. 
“This is ridiculous, Dick. You’re going to get someone hurt.” 
There was a ringing in his ears, shrill and persistent, the words almost drowned out by his own panicked breathing. 
“You need to talk to us.” Bruce snapped, venom cutting through the fog around Dick’s head. “This isn’t a game anymore, you need to tell us what’s going on so we can fix this! Dick, talk to me. Say something!” 
“He can’t.” 
Cass didn’t raise her voice, not even a little, but all heads swiveled to her at the two simple words. Bruce straightened and whirled around, shoulders still tense even with his back to Dick, his anger and tension left to seep into the rest of the room. “What?” 
“He can’t talk, Bruce,” Cass said, suddenly soft. Softer than anything Dick deserved right now. “Look at him.” 
All eyes were back on him, the weight of their stares heavier than before. Dick closed his eyes and dropped his head when Bruce turned back around, the silence of the living room deafening. 
When he spoke again, the anger was already fading in favor of something softer. “Dick?” 
Dick curled in on himself, shoulders hunched as he forced his hands to uncurl from trembling fists. He’d been backed into a corner, Cass picking him apart piece by piece in that uncanny way, zeroing in on exactly what he hadn’t wanted them to see. 
He didn’t know if it would be better or worse now that they were going to know. He shouldn’t be reacting like this. He shouldn’t be so weak and needy when everything had been his fault to begin with. 
But they were all watching him, waiting, and the least Dick could do was rip the band-aid off and get this over with. He’d made them deal with his shitshow long enough. 
Dick raised a shaky hand off his lap, and signed the two words across his chest. 
‘I’m sorry.’
He didn’t know what else to say. There wasn’t anything left to say. He didn’t deserve to voice anything but an apology, not after everything he’d put them through. 
And now that he’d said it once, the words flowing off his hand, he couldn’t seem to stop. 
‘I’m sorry,’ he signed again, hands shaking so bad it was a wonder he could manage it at all. He didn’t look at any of them, eyes still closed and his head bowed. ‘ I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’
“Oh, Chum.” He could hear Bruce’s voice but it sounded far away, like it was coming through a tunnel. “God, I didn’t… Dick, it’s okay. It’s alright. Hey, look at me-” 
Something touched his shoulder, a hand barely brushing his sleeve, and Dick jerked back fast enough to tug at his stitches, leaving him hissing in frantic pain as he pressed himself against the back of the couch. 
“Dick,” Bruce said again, sounding just as frantic as Dick felt. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” 
There wasn’t anything for him to hold onto anymore, all his fight to keep himself together in front of watchful eyes sapped away just like that. It didn’t matter anymore, anyway. It didn’t matter. 
Dick curled forward, trembling hands weakly covering his face and tugging ruthlessly at his hair. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, hot tears spilling over without his permission, and let out a choked, broken sob into the silent living room. 
It was the first sound he’d made in weeks. 
And just like with his flimsy sign language, now that he’d started he couldn’t seem to stop. He couldn’t breathe, every breath coming out a shuddering, weak cry of anguish, face burning hot, stinging and soaked with tears that refused to stop falling. 
There was movement around him, voices he couldn’t even try to pick up on, and suddenly a hand settled on his knee, hesitant and gentle. He jumped again, but the hand only tightened its hold. 
“Dick,” the voice said, but it wasn’t Bruce this time. “Breathe, honey. Just breathe for a minute, alright?” 
Barbara was in front of him when he risked prying his eyes open. His vision was blurry, clouded by tears, but he could just make out her face, no trace of anger or annoyance, her tone soft and patient. 
He’d missed her more than he’d realized. He’d missed being looked at with something other than anger or disappointment. He'd missed the feeling of knowing someone wasn't upset with him. He missed his family so much. 
Dick didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve anyone’s kindness for one second. But he was reaching out before he could stop himself, tearing his hand from his hair and latching it around Barbara’s wrist as tight as he dared. 
Something flickered in Oracle’s eyes behind her glasses, and she turned her head. “Get out.” 
She wasn’t talking to him, he realized with a start, suddenly made painfully aware that it wasn’t just the two of them in the room. 
“All of you,” Barbara snapped. Dick hadn’t heard her this angry since she’d shouted him out of the cave. “ Now.” 
There was shuffling behind him, his siblings a blur of movement as they hurried towards the door under her orders, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Bruce stiffen, still frozen at the edge of the couch. 
“Barbara-” 
“Especially you.” The venom in her voice was enough to send Batman running, evident by the way Bruce didn’t even try to argue again. “Leave, Bruce. Just give us a minute. Please.” 
Batman stepped back, turning on his heel and disappearing through the doorway without another word, leaving Dick and Barbara alone in the living room. Dick couldn’t bring himself to try to catch a glimpse of his father’s face.
“Hey Dickie,” Barbara said, any unwavering authority in her voice already long gone. “Can I touch you?” 
Dick nodded so fast he nearly made himself dizzy, the living room nothing but a blur of noise and color. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. Please hold me, he wanted to scream, but he didn’t even have the fight left in him to try speaking anymore. 
But he didn’t have to say anything. Barbara always seemed to know exactly what he needed, and suddenly she was pressed against his side with her arms wrapped around him, holding on tight like nothing else in the world mattered. 
She didn’t ask any questions, didn’t push him to speak or explain himself, didn’t try to unravel what was wrong with him right now. Barbara just held him close and allowed Dick to finally let go and sob until there was nothing left. 
Dick honestly wasn’t sure what happened in the moments that followed his breakdown, the world slipping away once the tears finally dried. 
Barbara didn’t make him move from the couch, which he was grateful for more than he could have possibly expressed. His body wasn’t responding to his commands, drained and exhausted. 
Besides, he’d spent too long avoiding the living room like the plague, terrified of being met with glares and cold dismissal. It was nice to be allowed back, to feel for a moment like he was part of the family again. 
 “There you go,” Barbara was soothing, gently pushing his chest to lay him back on the couch, cradling the back of his head just long enough to slip a pillow underneath. There was more movement, shuffling somewhere beside him, and Dick’s breath caught when a blanket was carefully draped over his chest. “Just rest, honey. You’re okay now.” 
Dick turned his head and blinked up at her, everything still slightly out of focus. The words still weren’t coming, no matter how much he wished they would, and Barbara only smiled sadly as she settled beside the couch and took his hand. 
“I know, Dickie,” she said. “You’re okay. Have you… you’ve been nonverbal this whole time?” 
All he could manage was a nod, shame pressing down on his chest as he lifted a shaky hand under the blanket to sign again, only for his wrists to be gently pushed back down. 
“It’s okay. I know you’re going to try to apologize, and you don’t have to. You have nothing to apologize for, Dick. You haven’t done anything wrong.” 
And that… that didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t true, not by a long shot, and he didn’t understand why Barbara was trying to make him feel better by lying to him. 
He hadn’t done anything wrong? Dick couldn’t remember the last time he’d done anything right. Everyone was always so angry at him now, his siblings didn’t want to be in the same room as him, Bruce was disappointed and Tim wanted nothing to do with him. 
He’d lost his family. He’d made mistake after mistake and it had cost him everything. He’d lost his little brother. 
“You haven’t lost anyone,” Barbara said, and Dick startled when he realized he’d started signing again the second she’d pulled her hands away, the silent words surfacing without his permission, his shame laid out for her to see. “We’re right here, we’re not going anywhere. No one is. I’m… I’m so sorry nobody noticed, Dick. I’m sorry we’ve been so awful.” 
Dick shook his head, not sure which part he was disagreeing with, blinking furiously when his eyes welled up with tears once again. He wasn’t going to make Barbara sit through this a second time. 
“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” she soothed, a gentle hand carding through his hair. “We know now, we’re gonna help. I promise.” 
Dick wanted to argue, wanted to insist that it was fine, that it was his fault, that it wasn’t something he wanted anyone to dwell on, not while they all had so much on their shoulders already. 
But his limbs felt impossibly heavy, the pain from his wound steadily sapping him of what little energy he had left, eyes growing heavier the more Barbara talked, the hand in his hair slowly easing him into the first restful sleep he’d had in weeks. 
-
“You can say no,” Barbara was saying, not seeming to catch the irony of her own words. “It’s alright if you’re not ready. Nobody’s angry.” 
Which was a lie, plain as day, judging by the cold glares being sent Bruce’s way that she wasn’t even trying to hide. But no one was glaring at Dick, no one was yelling at him this time, and he just wanted to get this over with. 
‘ He can come in,’ Dick signed, unable to make eye contact with anyone. It was almost freeing, being able to finally use sign language like this, like he could finally communicate again without having to hide. It didn’t mean he didn’t still feel pathetic, reduced to silence like this over nothing. 
“Alright,” Barabra said, hesitant. Dick couldn’t bring himself to look up to see Bruce’s face, but he doubted there was anything welcome there. “If you need me just…” she paused, and if Dick had the energy he might have smiled. “I’ll be back to check on you in a few minutes.” 
And with that she was gone, the door shutting behind her a moment later, leaving the living room in heavy silence, Dick left curled up on the end of the couch he’d woken up on moments ago, Bruce hovering a few paces away. 
I’m sorry, Dick wanted so badly to say, but his voice stayed stubbornly locked away, and his trembling hands stayed frozen in his lap. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I-
“I’m sorry.” 
Dick snapped his head up, risking a glance at the man across the room, clutching at the blanket still pooled in his lap. Bruce took a moment to meet his eyes, his gaze firmly trained on the floor, but when he did Dick let go of the blanket to shakily sign again. ‘ What?’
“I’m sorry,” Bruce said again, like it wasn’t unheard of. Like it hadn’t been one of the hardest things for him to say since Dick had met him. “God, I’m… Dick, why didn’t you tell anyone you were nonverbal?” 
Dick just blinked, and Bruce’s shoulders sagged at his blank stare. “I know, I’m… Dick, everyone in this house speaks sign language, and over half of them have gone mute before. Myself included, you know that. It’s never been an issue.” 
Dick just shrugged, hands going from clutching the blanket, to his shirt, to wrapping around his middle, like he could try to hold himself together. 
“Dick,” Bruce tried again, crossing the room in careful, calculated strides. “Why didn’t you ask for help?”
Dick swallowed, refusing to lift his gaze from his lap even as Bruce kneeled beside the couch, slowly raising his hands just a fraction to sign, ‘ I didn’t want to make you more angry.’
“Angry?” Bruce echoed out loud. “Why would anyone be angry at you?” 
Dick wanted to scoff. He wanted to pull away and close his eyes, curl up and go back to sleep, sob his eyes out until this all went away. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to mourn and beg. 
Instead, the words came spilling out of unsteady hands, mouth staying firmly shut. ‘ Everyone’s so mad at me. Everyone’s mad and it's all my fault. I shouldn’t be like this when it was my fault, I can’t ask for help, you’ll all just think I want attention but I don’t, I promise I’m trying but-’
“Hey, hey.” Bruce’s hands were suddenly over his own, not enough to restrict his movements, but the warm touch enough to yank Dick back to reality. He gasped, ragged and shallow, when he realized he’d stopped breathing. “Hey, nobody’s mad at you. Nobody’s… we just thought…” 
Dick pulled his hands away. ‘ You yelled at me.’
“I did,” Bruce relented, hands hovering uselessly over the couch. “You scared me, I thought-” 
‘ Tim hates me, Dick signed, barreling over whatever Bruce had been about to say. At least this way, talking with his hands, he couldn’t be spoken over, and Bruce had the decency to fall silent. He hates me and everyone else is mad and I don’t… know what I did but I can’t fix it. Everyone’s so mad and they hate me and I can’t fix it.’
“Tim doesn’t hate you,” Bruce said, the moment Dick paused. “Nobody hates you.” 
‘ They do!’ Dick couldn’t scream himself hoarse the way he so desperately wanted to, but he was sure his desperation came across in his movements by the way Bruce snapped his mouth shut and leaned back. ‘ I’ve been trying so hard. I’ve been trying so hard, B. Ever since you came back I’ve just been trying to do better. I keep trying to talk to them, I keep trying to say sorry, but they won’t… they don’t want to listen to me. They’re mad and I don’t know how to do this anymore.’
“Dick… honey-” 
‘ Alfred said I wasn’t trying,’ Dick pushed on, his hands shaking even worse now. ‘ He said I wasn’t putting in the effort. Jason thinks I’m just trying to make you all feel bad, Barbara didn’t want anything to do with me, Damian and Tim don’t want me here, and all I did was disappoint you.’
“Chum, take a breath.” 
‘ All I did was disappoint you.’ He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t catch his breath. ‘ I just wanted to do good. I just wanted to be better and all I did was make everyone angry.’ 
“It’s okay,” Bruce tried, clearly at a loss, eyes wide and frantic as he watched Dick move. He moved to take Dick’s wrists, to get him to slow down, quickly dropping his hands back to his thighs when Dick yanked them away, panicked and cornered, desperate to cling onto the only communication he’d had in weeks. “We’re going to fix this, Dick. I promise you.” 
‘ He told me I was worse than Jack,’ Dick signed, ignoring the empty promise, ignoring the way Bruce went still. ‘ When I took Robin away. He told me I was worse than Jack. I was… I was just trying to keep him safe. I just wanted to protect him and I lost him. I lost my baby brother, I… I can’t fix this. I can’t fix it.’
“You are nothing like Jack,” Bruce said, eyes softening when Dick’s breath hitched on a broken sob. “That’s… I didn’t know he said that to you.” 
‘ You didn’t ask,’ Dick signed before he could stop himself. ‘ You didn’t even ask me if I was okay.’
It was unfair, Dick knew it was. Bruce had checked in on all his kids in his own way, silent and unseen, the method he found most comfortable. He’d had the weight of the world on his shoulders since he’d returned, a life to rebuild, a city to retake control over. 
But he’d shifted that weight to Dick’s shoulders without so much as a warning when he’d died, and nobody had bothered to ease the ache it left. 
It was a miracle he’d only lost his voice. 
“I know,” Bruce said, resigned instead of angry, soft instead of defensive. “I should have. I’ve been worried about you- all of you, I just…” 
He trailed off and Dick watched him carefully, cheeks stinging with fresh tears. ‘ I’m not mad at you.’
“You should be,” Bruce said. “Nobody would blame you for being furious with all of us.” 
‘ I’m not.’ He wasn’t. He didn’t have the energy to be angry. ‘ I just miss everyone. I just want everything to go back to normal.’ 
“It will. Everyone just needs time.” 
‘ Nobody wants me here,’ he signed. ‘ Nobody wants anything to do with me anymore. They hate me, they wish I would just-’
“Everyone is worried sick about you,” Bruce cut in, gently resting his hands over Dick’s and effectively shutting down that particular train of thought. “You’re their brother and they… everyone feels awful, Chum. We really do.” 
Dick hesitated, slowly pulling his hands out of Bruce’s grasp. ‘ Okay.’ 
Bruce’s face fell, but he was suddenly moving slowly, easing his way onto the edge of the couch, watching Dick like his son was a spooked wild animal, seconds from bolting. 
“Can I touch you?” he asked, and Dick nodded faster than he’d planned. But it didn’t matter- it didn’t matter how needy or desperate or pathetic everyone must think he was, rendered to something so helpless over so little- not when Bruce’s hands were suddenly framing his face, warm and steady, the same way they had so many times when Dick had been younger. 
“You are not a disappointment,” Bruce said, so sharp and sudden it made Dick’s tears stop all at once, breaths still coming in nothing more than hiccuping gasps. “I left you with an impossible task, Dick. I didn’t… I never wanted anyone to take on the Batman mantle. All of this, everything I’ve done, has been so no one else would have to carry that burden. It was never meant to be passed to you. Any of you. But you did, and you did good. You did good, Dick. No matter what decisions you made or didn’t make, no matter what mistakes or mishaps happened, you did good. And I’m proud of you. You will never lose this family, and I’ll never stop being proud to call you my son. So get that idea out of your head right this minute, do you understand?” 
Dick had started crying again somewhere along to way, latching onto Bruce’s words as desperately as he could when his own sobs were threatening to drown everything out. 
But he found himself nodding to his father’s command, leaning into his touch, wanting nothing more than to believe him without question, to trust Batman as blindly as he had when he’d been his Robin. 
“It’s going to be alright,” Bruce said, and despite everything, every instinct telling him not to, Dick allowed himself to trust that he was right. Just for the moment. “It’ll get better. We’ll fix this together, Dick. We’ll fix this.” 
Dick nodded again, unable to do anything but let Bruce pull him into his arms like he was a little boy again and weep into his father’s chest. 
-
Dick honestly hadn’t expected anything to change. Everyone would still be angry- even more angry now that he’d caused a scene just because he’d been too weak to handle a little pressure- and he’d just have to keep riding out the nonverbal episode on his own until things slowly went back to a tense, reluctant normal. 
He didn’t expect the rest of the family to start trickling in after Barbara and Bruce had stepped out, one by one like they were taking turns, waiting to talk to him. 
Damian was first, practically kicking Bruce out with a determined glare, a plate of food in his hands, planting himself on the other end of the couch, legs crossed. 
“Talking is stupid,” he declared, the closest he’d come to telling Dick it was okay, and thrust the plate into his older brother’s hands. “But you need to eat. Pennyworth made you your favorite. You missed dinner because you were shot.” 
Dick winced, not particularly thrilled about the idea of being lectured for his injury again, but Damian just watched intently as Dick picked at his food, brow furrowed. 
“I am happy to eliminate Drake for you,” he said, and Dick nearly dropped his fork. “He seems to be the main cause of your distress.” 
Dick shook his head, forcing himself to take a bite of food despite the way it made his stomach churn. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten, skipping family dinner as much as he possibly could. 
‘ No thank you,’ he signed, hands moving slower, sign language newer to Damian than to Bruce and Babs. ‘ It’s not Tim’s fault. He has the right to be angry with me.’ 
Damian crossed his arms, his gaze locked firmly on the floor. “Everyone is acting incredibly immature. It was… irresponsible of them not to notice your distress. And a failure on my part.” 
‘ It’s not your fault, Damian,’ Dick said, but Damian didn’t raise his head to see the words. ‘ It’s okay.’
Dick could practically see the gears turning in the youngest Wayne’s head, biting his lip as he considered his words carefully, hesitating a moment too long before speaking again. “I enjoyed being your Robin, Grayson. You did good work. It would not… be ideal, if you weren’t with us anymore.” 
There was no way Dick was going to let himself break down again, especially not in front of his youngest brother, but he found himself having to blink away tears, reaching forward to squeeze Damian’s hand. 
‘ Thank you.’
Damian opted to stay right where he was even in the silence that followed, watching with a scrutinizing frown as Dick ate, refusing to let up until half the plate was cleared and his older brother set it aside on the coffee table with an apologetic smile. 
Cass came next, Damian excusing himself with a huff as he gathered up the remains of Dick’s dinner and disappeared through the doorway with one last wide eyed glance at his big brother, doing an uncharacteristically poor job of concealing his worry. 
His sister didn’t seem to have anything to say, signing a small greeting before settling down on the chair beside the couch, gaze soft when she glanced at him, all the words neither of them had expressed in just a quiet, gentle look.
They didn’t speak, the two of them sitting in the comfortable silence of the living room, and Dick finally started to feel some of the tension from his shoulders come undone, the sickening tightness of his chest unraveling just a little. 
Dick was almost certain he was imagining it when Jason showed up in the doorway after Cass had wandered off, hesitating in the threshold, hand stuffed deep in his pockets and a scowl etched onto his face. Dick’s stomach dropped as he sat up, waiting. 
“Hey,” Jason grunted, and Dick held up a nervous hand. “You uh… did you eat? There’s leftovers in the fridge.” 
‘ Damian brought me a plate.’
“Right,” Jason said, moving to cross his arms as he shuffled forward. “Alfred’s worried sick, you know. He’s deep cleaning the house.” 
‘ Oh.’ Dick hesitated, scrambling to figure out if Jason was here to yell at him or not. ‘ I’m sorry.’ 
“Christ, don’t do that,” Jason snapped, and Dick dropped his hands. “It’s hard enough for me to apologize without you doing it first.” 
Dick blinked, glancing at the door to make sure Barbara wasn’t holding his brother at gunpoint. There was no point in trying to sign any questions, not when Jason’s gaze was locked firmly on the wall across from him. 
“Don’t look so surprised,” Jason said, only taking a second to glance in Dick’s direction. “Look, I was an ass. I’m… sorry for shoving you. And yelling. I should have realized you weren’t okay, and I didn’t. I’m sorry.” 
It was the most concrete apology he’d gotten from Jason since he’d been a kid, always smiling, always too good for a world like this. He waited until Jason looked back at him, shoulders tense like he was bracing to be brushed off, before carefully signing a response. 
‘ Don’t be sorry. It’s not your job to pick up on when I’m feeling down.’
“You would have been the first to notice if it was any of us,” Jason shot back, and Dick didn’t have an argument for that. “A lot of shit’s been going on and we’ve all fucked up a little, you included. That’s not an excuse to throw you under the bus. You’re still our brother.” 
Dick fiddled with the blanket, wishing his voice would come back if only for a second, desperate to tell Jason just how much it meant to hear him say those words. Eventually, he settled on sending a silent, ‘ Thank you.’
“Yeah whatever,” Jason muttered, but Dick could see some of the tension easing from his shoulders. “Glad you’re like… not dead, by the way. I’ll buy you ice cream or something when you’re feeling better. Can’t be mad at me after that.” 
Dick rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips despite everything. ‘ I’m not mad at you.’ 
“Of course you aren’t,” Jason scoffed, smirking over his shoulder as he started back towards the doorway. “Get some sleep, Goldie. You look like shit.” 
A moment later Dick was alone again, but the silence didn’t feel nearly as suffocating this time, the air noticeably lighter as he leaned back against the pillows and let his eyes slip shut. 
Maybe this wasn’t as irreparable as he’d thought. Maybe… maybe things would start to get better, slowly but surely. They weren’t angry with him anymore- most of them weren’t, anyway- and the pain in his chest that had lingered since the Robin mantle had been passed down was finally allowing him some relief. 
Maybe his voice would come back to him with time, if he was a little patient with himself. Maybe-
“Dick?” 
Dick’s eyes flew open, breath catching in his throat when he saw the figure in the doorway, hunched over himself in a hoodie Dick belatedly recognized as one of his own. It had been missing for weeks. 
Tim didn’t say anything for a moment, the two of them caught in the living room’s silence. Dick watched as his little brother’s eyes darted to his face, only to quickly move back down to his stomach where the fresh bandages were poking out from beneath his shirt, like he needed to reassure himself Dick wasn’t in danger of bleeding out again. 
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Tim said, so quiet Dick nearly missed it. It was almost surreal, hearing Tim address him like he cared again. “And I shouldn’t have yelled at you. You saved my life. So… thank you. And I’m sorry.” 
Dick didn’t know what he was supposed to do, frozen, like one wrong move would shatter the illusion, like Tim would go right back to angry if he so much as moved the wrong way. 
Tim didn’t seem to mind the lack of response, nodding to himself like he’d been expecting it. 
“I think we should talk,” Tim said. “When you can, I mean. Take your time, just… I’m tired of being mad at you, Dick. I miss you. You’re… even after all this, you’re still my brother. I didn’t… I didn’t want this.” 
Dick hesitated, running the words through his head in a frantic loop before carefully signing a response. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you.’ 
“You never do,” Tim muttered, but he sounded resigned more than angry. “I don’t- I don’t understand. I don’t understand why you did it but… but I’d like to. Whenever you can, I think it would be good to talk.” 
Dick didn’t know what to do but nod wordlessly, quickly blinking away the heat gathering behind his eyes again. Tim just smiled, the gesture small and tired, and turned back towards the hallway. 
“Get some rest. Alfie and Bruce are fighting over who gets to bring you tea.” He paused, a hand resting on the doorframe. “I love you, you know. I don’t want you to think I don’t. We’ll talk in a few days.” 
Dick leaned back against the couch cushions, breathing slowly as he listened to his little brother’s footsteps fade, the familiar, comfortable commotion from the kitchen filtering in through the open door. 
Maybe everything would be alright, after all. 
598 notes · View notes
mzminola · 2 years ago
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Had the thought “How would the Dynamic Duo of Batman!Dick and Robin!Stephanie have gone?” and immediately started tearing Preboot canon apart and rebuilding it like a LEGO set.
~
Firstly, we gotta make sure Damian isn’t getting sidelined, and for that I propose he and Tim are a team for BruceQuest. Have Damian’s yearning to get to know his dad outweigh his dislike/jealousy/etc of Tim, and highlight Tim’s canonical compassion and forgiving nature.
Either they both make new mantles for this, or they’re both color-coded Robins. Red Robin for Tim, since he’s using Kon’s colors, Green or Blue Robin for Damian (I like Green for he ties to his mom, but him trying to make his own version of the Nightwing suit in some attempt to outrank Tim and everyone calling him Blue Robin would be very funny).
Things start out tense, Damian is only listening to Tim because a) Tim will just have a Titan pick Damian up and drop him back off in Gotham if he’s too much trouble like he was during Resurrection of Ra’s al Ghul, and b) Tim is the only person who believes Bruce is alive and is cautiously keeping some of the methodology of proving it to himself at first.
In the original 2009 Red Robin comic, Tim repeatedly got sidetracked with hero work during his quest. Have that keep happening, and actually spend more time in that period than RR did, because it’s part of Damian’s growth. He starts out pissed at the delays and confused by Tim’s insistence on helping strangers. Tim gives some talks about the Bat philosophy and about why he keeps coming back to the hero life despite everything it’s taken from him.
Damian gets thanked by some of the people they rescue, and slowly shifts from pride in his fighting skills to pride in helping people. Eventually starts actively looking for people to help while they’re searching for artifacts. Tim is so flipping proud of him.
Sets us up for some big choices when the League of Assassins finally gets involved.
~
Okay, back to Stephanie, rewinding the comics even further:
1: Don’t kill off Arthur ‘Cluemaster’ Brown, we need him for later.
2: Tim & Steph never date because this is my LEGO set and I want more platonic boy-girl friend pairs in fiction, dang it. Bruce never tells Steph Tim’s identity and Tim is still keeping it secret. Rather than stalking Tim at school and seeing another girl kiss him, Stephanie and Tim are in the middle of an ongoing argument about secret identities when Jack discovers Tim is Robin and makes him step down.
Tim contacts Steph over the phone to let her know why Spoiler won’t be seeing him around, and that’s when she pulls what she did in canon of making her own Robin suit and volunteering with Batman.
Keep most of War Games, but nix the prolonged torture (because fuck that shit) in favor of quickly-gained but extensive injuries (she was tossed off a building? A building fell on her while she was saving someone?) so she really does need a long recovery period, complete with Dr. Thompkins taking her out of the country.
Honestly not sure if they should still fake her death. If yes, I think it should be Bruce’s idea.
This keeps Steph out of the way so we don’t need to rearrange the in-between canon too much, and potentially adds more fuel to the Keeping Secrets vs Not Keeping Secrets arguments.
The start of our big change for Stephanie’s arc is Violent Tendencies. Instead of agreeing to Bruce’s messed up plan, Stephanie is raring to atone for the lives destroyed back in War Games, and what do you know, some motherfucker just started another city wide gang war!
Spoiler works with Robin to stop Ulysses Armstrong. They never worked their shit out before she first left town, so it’s tense, and they fight, but they prioritize stopping the bad guys and bringing what peace is possible in Gotham.
Have repeated moments where Stephanie’s temper and instinct to argue almost messes things up, but she reins herself in to focus on butt-kicking and detective work. Have Tim notice this newer self-control, and have Steph notice changes in Tim, too.
At least one instance, preferably more, of Stephanie meeting someone who was hurt or lost a loved one in War Games, and wrestling with the fresh reminder of her guilt.
If we want to have a two-steps-forward, one-step-back situation, Tim gets caught in the blast of Armstrong’s bomb because after one of their fights, Stephanie stormed off in a temper, leaving Tim to deal with a two-person job on his own.
This sets up Stephanie second-guessing her decision to keep being a hero. If her own temper keeps getting in the way, should she really be doing this?
If we don’t want that, have it be that Tim takes the brunt of the blast because he threw Stephanie to safety or threw himself on top of her. Because that’s the kind of hero Tim is, because at this point in her arc Steph needs reassurance that her friend still cares about her despite her mistakes, and because it’s an example of heroism Stephanie needs to decide if she wants to copy or not.
Stephanie wants to be a hero.
Does she want to be the kind of hero who throws herself between another person and a bomb?
So either scenario, we set up for Stephanie to be doing some introspection when Bruce gets tossed into the timestream.
~
/points at the fried clone-corpse nearly everyone thinks is Bruce/ “Well he ain't gettin’ any deader!”
Tim calls up Cassandra during the whole Battle For The Cowl incident. She needs to wrap up an investigation, but comes back as soon as she can, which is when the dust has settled. Welcome back to Gotham, Batgirl!
(Cass is the Batgirl to both Tim & Steph’s Robin. She gets her own solo book back and has lots of interactions with Babs during this era.)
Not sure whose idea it is for Stephanie to be Robin again; Tim resigning himself to Dick not helping with BruceQuest? Dick acknowledging Batman needs a Robin and seeing Spoiler is struggling? Stephanie herself, volunteering for the second time?
Regardless, very early on, Arthur Brown gets out of jail or comes back to town and is being a Problem. Stephanie’s got a lot of anger, and Dick helps her deal with that. This is both an echo of Stephanie’s introduction, when she tried to kill her dad, and a way of bringing up Dick’s roots as Robin. He wanted to kill Tony Zucco, remember?
One former hot-headed Robin who’s learned how to find balance and prioritize justice over revenge helping the next generation do the same!
Meanwhile, Jason is also around being a Problem, providing straight up antagonism, but also a different opinion on how vigilantism in Gotham should work, so that Stephanie has multiple views to wrestle with.
Stephanie is a middle-class kid from the suburbs, who, as Jason put it to Tim when breaking into Titans Tower, “slept in a real bed”. But she’s also got a (recovering) drug-addict mother and a criminal father, providing points of commonality for Jason to work with. Remember his speech to Mia Dearden during the Green Arrow crossover?
Jason also plays on Stephanie’s guilt, talking about the fallout of the gang war she started, all of the ripple effects that kept going after the initial burst of violence was over. Describes some of his Under the Red Hood crime lord takeover work as “cleaning up your mess.”
Stephanie regrets everything about War Games, Dick is helping her do better going forward, whereas Jason’s argument is that she should have been more decisively violent at the start. It’s hard for all the mafia bosses to fight each other and get the little people caught up in it if the mafia bosses are dead.
During one altercation between Batman & Robin and the Red Hood, Jason punts Black Mask’s head to them and sarcastically says “You’re welcome.”
Arthur’s current criminal enterprise should directly affect Stephanie’s life in some negative way, so that all of this is fresh, not a It’s In The Past situation, and also be endangering civilians’ lives.
This arc has a big climatic scene of Dick being restrained while Jason gives Stephanie the chance to kill her dad.
(We know she’s not gonna, because she’s the Robin in Batman & Robin, but it should be as suspenseful as we can make it.)
~
Meanwhile over in BruceQuest, Tim & Damian are bonding over being raised with high expectations, and confusing relationships with one’s parents. Tim finally allowing himself to think & say negative things about Jack in order to help Damian grapple with his own upbringing? Heck yes.
Damian & Tim & the crushing weight of family legacies & parental expectations!
Tim being allowed by the narrative to be a big brother to Damian like Dick was to Tim!
Damian coming to see Tim as his brother despite his upbringing focusing on blood, and expressing remorse for the introductory murder attempt!
Ra’s trying to pit them against each other and getting his ass kicked!
Tim standing up to Bruce about his toxic habits once they rescue him because Tim refuses to let Damian go through the same crap he did!
~
Since dads are a big thing for both of the above arcs, we could go for three and bring back David Cain for Cass to deal with. Or keep him away, but bring him up in Cass & Steph’s shared scenes. They bonded over having terrible dads in Batgirl 2000, we can have callbacks.
Tim was sending progress reports back to Gotham during BruceQuest (because whether he left on good or bad terms, he wants the Bats to know what’s going on in case something happens to him and the ten year old he’s in charge of needs a rescue).
Once a week Cass makes popcorn and Babs reads the reports aloud. They make bingo cards for What Crazy Shit The Boys Got Up To This Week. When Tim gets home he makes bingo cards about Batgirl & Oracle’s shenanigans (while stealing some of theirs for his scrapbook). Stephanie demands Batman & Robin bingo cards too, and we discover Babs actually made some years ago when Dick was still Robin.
~
There are a lot of different ways who has what mantle could shake out once these arcs are over (in the very short time before the universe reset) but instead of getting into that I’m just going to imagine everyone reunited & hugging.
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thewritingdaughter · 3 years ago
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A family of Angry Bats Makes for a Headache
Bat family x Youngest Sister!Batsis
Summary: The Batfamily is worried as they catch their youngest acting strangely for a few months in a row, so they finally decide to investigate in detail what she's been doing. And what’s the grand secret that they find out she's doing? Dating. They're not sure whether they’d rather it be something actually illegal, they’d probably handle that better than their little one dating.
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“What could Y/N possibly be doing that's got her so on edge? Drinking? Smoking? Gambling? Blackmail? M-”
“I seriously doubt she's into any of that Dick,” Jason cut his older brother off before he could continue on his spiral of dirty deeds that their youngest sibling could be engaged in behind their backs.
“If anything it's probably someone pressuring her into doing bad things— assuming any of what she's doing is even bad,” Tim tried to reason.
“Or she just wants to get away from all of you every so often,” Damain quipped sharply while Dick sighed heavily and continued.
“Im just worried about Y/N. She usually doesn't keep secrets and this pattern has gotten bad enough that Bruce caught me up to speed on everything that's been happening just so I could tail her with you guys.”
“Well I don't think that matters much now. Y/N just turned down into that alleyway up ahead. Keep it down and stay low,” Jason quieted them from the front of their sneaking line of curious and concerned brothers as they followed you into the next alleyway.
The brothers thought that they were completely justified in their little “outing”. The girls of the family had completely disagreed about going though; Cassandra, Stephine, and Barbara were convinced that nothing was suspicious about your recent activities. But with Bruce on their side, the boys were released on the streets of Gotham in day clothes to do their best detective work.
And their best work is what they gave. They all could agree, anything involving you required at least that.
As they came to the entrance of the alleyway wedged between ever-growing buildings, they weren't sure if they would have rather seen you making a drug deal and shaking someone down for money to what they actually came face to face with. The former they could deal with, discipline and family guidance could fix those problems. But this... this wasn’t so simple. Well at least for the older Wayne’s it wasn't.
As they peered down the narrow street they did indeed find you at the end of it, but there was someone there with you. At first, you just stood close and talked to the other person, but then you were suddenly kissing him. The brothers all thought they were hallucinating. Their baby sister? Making out with someone in a back alleyway?
No way, no how.
Yes way, yes how. As made very apparent as the seconds went by (though your brothers would've sworn it was minutes) the two of you were still latched.
Jason was the first to crack. The idea of his baby sister secretly dating someone for possibly these last five months or even longer, and it especially being something you tried to hide! He knew some of the kinds of people out on the back streets of Gotham and he never wanted you to be entangled with them.
Dick wasn't far behind his younger sibling, countless thoughts of betrayal and worries swirling non-stop in his mind.
Damian was next to follow. Nobody was good enough for his little sister.
Tim was hesitant at first. There was nothing wrong with you dating right? Most of the family had done it anyways. His thoughts quickly changed the longer Y/N and the boy kissed. No one was allowed to be that attached to their little bird, and so he followed suit.
You and your boyfriend had just parted and were about to continue catching up when all of the sudden he looked up quite concerned over your shoulder. You weren't really alarmed yet. You guys always met in this back alley and it wouldn't have been the first time someone had interrupted your time together to try and rob you guys. What they didn't know though is that they were messing with a Wayne’s precious free time and you were close enough to a trained assassin at that point. It was never that big of a problem. But when you turned to see it was not some nameless robber coming towards you and was your brothers, looking quite upset, you were afraid. Not for yourself really, but for your boyfriend.
Alex was just a regular citizen of Gotham. He had just started his apprenticeship in mechanics and had gone to the same high school you had. You guys had been casual friends until he found out your secret identity as more than just Bruce Wayne’s youngest daughter. It was by complete accident after you had rescued him once before, but all is well that ends well. You ended up becoming closer and falling in love. Simple as that. You had a seeking suspicion though that your brothers wouldn't be satisfied with any explanation. Hence why you were hiding all of this in the first place.
Alex noticed how nervous you got and held on a little tighter to your arm. Your gaze met his as he indicated that he wanted to know if everything was okay. You nodded and mustered up any courage left you could find in face of the fuming brothers almost upon you.
“Y/N.” Jason started
“What do you think you're doing?” Dick finished for the enranged man.
“Seriously? We're gonna start this talk with a Dad one-liner?” You nervously chuckled.
“We’ll start it however we like! Now, what do you think you're doing down here making out with some guy in the back streets of Gotham?! There are so many things wrong and dangerous about that!” Tim exclaimed as he started to feel his earlier rationality slip away.
“What could possibly be so bad?” you tried to defend this whole thing without actually acknowledging it, “I’m just meeting with a... friend.”
You knew that wasn't gonna work the moment it left your mouth. You never were the best lair out of them.
“Oh yeah because friends stick each other tongues down their throats for an hour straight!” Damain chimed in this time.
“It was not an hour!”
“Tt! But you admit you did it! It wouldn't matter anyway we saw all of it.” Damain continued with a roll of his eyes.
“What do you mean you saw all of it? What- Were you following me?!” Now it was your turn to be enraged.
“That doesn't matter! Obviously, you'd been hiding something from all of us and we were concerned! And it's a good thing we were because who knows what kind of mess this is you've gotten yourself into!” Dick berated in his best Dad Voice. You weren't having any of it knowing what they had done.
“Are you kidding me?! Of course it matters! I can't believe you all would have that little trust in me! I'm perfectly fine! The only reason I was hiding what we've been doing is because I knew you guys and Dad would have a crazy reaction! I can see now that I was right!”
You were starting to reach your wit's end with them and you could feel Alex behind you still. He was probably incredibly confused.
“Perfectly fine?! Do you know how many things go wrong?! What if he is just using you for our father's money? Hmm? What about if he ends up hurting you? And God forbid he ever finds out about the work we do for father!” Damain was back on his tirade as the others nodded along in varying degrees of agreement. You about blew your top there and then.
“You guys are insane to think I wouldn't consider all of that! I've been close with him for years and he's never once asked or used me for money! He's never been anything but the sweetest to me! And he already knows what kind of ‘business’ I do for Dad!”
You probably could've gone on but as your last sentence rang out into the otherwise barren alley. The boys froze and you did too. Telling them that James knew that you were Batman’s newest Robins was a mistake. If they weren't ballistic with worry now, they were about to be.
“He knows what?” Jason was no longer yelling, but scarily quieter.
“He knows that I'm one of the Robins.”
You backed up further into James inadvertently. This was only going to get worse.
“I cannot believe you would let yourself be found out! We are going back home now and having a talk with Bruce that he can fix this somehow!” Dick was pacing now.
“Dick please—”
“No, I don't want to hear it Y/N. This is not up for negotiation.”
“She shouldn't have to go if she doesn't want to,” Alex spoke up from behind your shoulder. He still hadn't been told who these guys were and though he would assume they were family by the way you all talked, that doesn't mean they could drag you wherever. Especially if that scared you.
You could tell what Alex was thinking and wanted to correct the misunderstanding. You weren't scared of your brothers or fathers just annoyed and worried about what reactions were about to come. Plus your brothers looked like they were about to murder him on the pure fact alone that he had spoken against them.
“It's alright Alex. These four are my idiotic brothers that I've told you about. I'm just annoyed is all but I should head back with them. I promise I'll talk to you later, okay?”
You cupped the side of his face and smiled as your eyes met his. You knew that would melt him.
“Fine. Just call me if anything happens alright?”
“Of course.” You nudged together for a few seconds before Alex gave a second glance to your brothers and then started on his walk home. You could hear the scoffs and uggs of disgust as you both parted.
You watched him go, looking out of the side of your eye to make sure none of your brothers went to follow the poor guy. After you were sure Alex was gone and didn't have an annoying bat-brother tailing him, you turned back to face the four.
“Well you wanted to go running home to Dad, so what are we waiting for? Let's go.”
You started off without checking if they were following, although you were sure they were. It was going to be a long afternoon.
In fact, you didn't even get in the door before Bruce had met you all and began his questioning.
“Y/N! What were you thinking?” You were gonna get tired of that question quick, “Meeting up with a boy in the back alleys?! Revealing everything about you to him?!”
“If any of you would give me a minute to explain,” you shoved past Bruce into the front room and turned to face them, “maybe this might make a bit more sense. Besides, it's the least you owe me after having me freaking tailed!”
“You—” Bruce didn't get to finish whatever retort was to come as Cass, Stephine, and Barbara came into the front hall.
“What is all this fuss about?” Barbara asked.
Cass took a look between the six of you and signed to the other two girls;
“I have an idea. I think Y/N was caught.”
“Ooh... So the boys are up in arms over that. Geez what a complete mess,” Stephine sighed.
“How could you blame us for being upset over this? Actually, how do you know what we're upset over?” Dick turned to the girls.
“Well for one you guys are crazy, so you've probably blown out of proportions already,” Barbara pushes her wheelchair to where you're standing and the two other girls follow, “and we already know about Y/N’s relationship. Have for two months now. Though I could see why she would only want to tell us.”
“So that's why you didn't want us following her!” Tim connected the dots.
All of the older girls nodded.
“Let her explain. It is a cute story.” Cass signed and nodded her head to the sitting room.
Everyone shuffled their way into the large sitting room, albeit the boys did so reluctantly. Bruce chose to lean against the doorframe and pull his best Dad face. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at them all as you sat with the girls on an opposing couch.
“If you're ready to listen, I can tell you everything now.”
They all nodded reluctantly.
So you started from the beginning. How you met him in school, what he was like, you two growing closer, how you had saved him and he came to know your secret, and how your relationship had been while dating.
“Oh and I’d like to add that Dad you have no place to judge my relationship looking back on some of your more... Interesting choices.”
“Most of those were before you came along, how—” Bruce raised himself from the doorframe in slight offense.
“Alfred likes to tell stories and I spend a lot of time with the man,” you shrugged as you glanced between those in front of you. You were afraid you hadn't gotten through to them.
But surprisingly, Dick spoke up first.
“Well if you're really sure, then we can't stop you. It's not like we haven't dated either and you're a smart kid,” he moved over to your couch and crouched in front of you, “we should just trust you.” You smiled slightly down at him.
“Hmph, fine. If Dick can let it be then so can I,” Jason huffed.
He joined you on the other couch and spoke again,
“That does not mean I’ll like him or any of this though.”
You just rolled your eyes. Better than before.
Tim added in next.
“Yeah, Dick and Jason are right. I'll be doing an extensive background at the very least though.” He joined you all.
“Wouldn’t expect anything less Tim,” You chuckled.
All that was left was Damain and Bruce. Bruce was understandably going to be one of the hardest to crack, you came in knowing that. But usually, Damain didn't care as much about your relationships with others. Of course, he cared about you, after years of being his little sister you wormed your way into his heart. Still, this was a new level of worry about something he probably sees as irrational and unnecessary.
Damian looked over and met eyes with Bruce before sighing heavily.
“Tt. It's fine if Y/N is dating but he better not ever do anything suspicious,” Damain mumbled and threw himself onto the quickly filling couch.
Everyone now looked to Bruce, the only one left standing. He sighed deeply, the kind of sigh that's reserved for when he's been working a case for weeks or has gotten the news that Jason had been arrested five times in a single week.
“I’m still worried about all of this Y/N. You're young and have lots of... capabilities that I don't want you hurt over. If you trust this kid, then I'll try to get to know him. Which means you will have to bring him over for a formal introduction. Otherwise, I guess it's alright for now. But please no more meetings in back, shady alleyways.” Bruce had gradually made his way over to the coach and had taken your hands in his like Dick earlier.
You couldn't help but smirk at his worry (and the reassurance that you wouldn't have to be breaking up with Alex anytime soon). You pulled them all into a tight hug as best you could. You smiled brightly and gave them one last remark.
“I’m so glad we could figure this out. But if any of you ever touch Alex I’ll strangle you all in your sleep,” you said as you smiled and released them from the hug, going on your merry way to call up your boyfriend to chat.
Everyone was left behind reminded of just why you had become a Robin for Batman.
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I hope you guys enjoyed this little story, it's my first time writing about the Batfamily and my first time writing on this platform. I’m relatively new to the DC fandom so sorry for any mistakes!
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stxleslyds · 3 years ago
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Also, the writers' failure to understand, every crime Jason committed had a motive. Attack other criminals? Holy warrior destined to purify the world of evil. Attack Bruce? Joker's still alive. (Oh, Jason, it's much worse than that.) Attack Tim? A parody of what he once was. He wasn't just a "bad boy". He was dangerously insane.
Hi, Anon! Yup, there seems to be a lot of things that writers have gotten confused about Jason Todd/Red Hood and the biggest one is his motivations to kill certain criminals.
Let’s be honest, Judd Winick set a golden path for the upcoming Red Hood writers. But each and every writer that used Red Hood in their stories completely missed the point of Jason’s character. All of them. It’s so incredibly wild to me that every other writer read UtRH and came up with whichever version of Jason they came up with.
Let’s list the writers that completely missed the point.
Geoff Johns in Teen Titans vol.3 #29.
Geoff Johns was one of the first to completely mischaracterize Jason, why on earth would Jason go to the Titans Tower to beat up Tim? This is not me saying that Jason would never do that because Jason thinks of Tim as his brother or a friend or the person that he can trust the most from the Bat-Clan (can you believe Lobdell tried to sell us that one?), this is me saying that Jason wouldn’t have done that because he couldn’t have given less of a fuck about Tim’s existence.
When Jason found out that Bruce had another Robin he wasn’t bothered by his “replacement” he was mad at Bruce for having another child playing hero after he lost his life as a fifteen-year-old. Jason didn’t even think of Tim as his replacement as fandom likes to make us believe, Jason called Tim “pretender”. And that was that, but to go from minimal recognition to go out of his way to beat him up at Titans Tower is a massive mischaracterization.
Paul Dini in Countdown (to Final Crisis).
Paul Dini in Countdown did absolutely nothing with Jason, I am sorry but that’s all he did. Him writing Jason was like watching a dog trying to catch their own tail. He started with a pretty basic take on UtRH Jason, then he added a bit of Jason being an annoying man with Donna, then we had the jealousy arc because apparently, Jason had the hots for Donna but she didn’t want anything to do with him and he was all angsty when she paid attention to Kyle instead of him, and then, later on, he had that whole Red Robin bullshit (I am sorry about this, but I absolutely hated that, it was so dumb, I am so glad it didn’t last long because it was just too bad), and after all that mix of just not interesting stuff he went right back to the Jason that he had at the very start. It was a waste of time, but I guess that he had to be there because he was an anomaly and all that. I just think that was DC’s first try at making Jason Todd/Red Hood something more than just a street-level vigilante and they failed miserably.
Tony S. Daniel in Batman: Battle for the Cowl.
Even though the first two did make mistakes with Jason’s characterizations, this man was the first to just throw UtRH out of the window and make up his very own version of Jason Todd. And his version was horrendous, that Jason had no problem with attempting to kill children and innocent people, he also really wanted to be Batman because Gotham needed a Batman and he wanted to be the person to wear the Cowl and he was looking for a Robin for himself.
I know, the whole concept is the perfect opposite of what Jason Todd and Red Hood were in UtRH. Every aspect of BftC Jason is based on nothing.
Jason wanting to be Batman because Gotham needed Batman is just the beginning of what’s wrong in this book. Jason became the Red Hood (in part) because he believed that Batman and his ways weren’t what Gotham needed so he made a better version of Batman with Red Hood (according to him) because Red Hood did what Batman refused to do. Another thing that is just wrong is Jason wanting, Damian, Tim or Dick to be his Robin, there is just so much wrong with this, first of all, Jason wanted Batman to stop having Robin because child soldiers ran the risk of dying at a very young age and that’s exactly how he saw the whole thing because that was what had happened to him. Second, if Jason was mad at Bruce for getting another Robin why would he now want one of his own to team up with his Batman? Damian was a child, Tim was someone that apparently Jason hated (because Jason beating Tim was mentioned in this event), and then Jason actually asked Dick Grayson, Nightwing, to be his Robin? Listen, there is no way that was Jason, nothing about him makes sense, even taking into account that Jason had beaten Tim already in this event Jason actually tried to kill both Tim and Damian (it might have been just one of them but yeah, it still doesn’t make sense).
I just don’t think that Tony S. Daniel knew who Jason Todd was, maybe he got confused but the thing is, his “villainous” and deranged version of Jason Todd allowed a villainous and deranged version of Red Hood to happen with the next writer that I will be talking about.
Grant Morrison in Batman and Robin vol.1 #3-6.
This was the birth of the villainous, deranged and bloodthirsty Red Hood. There is absolutely no trace of UtRH Jason here, not even if we are looking at the opposite of things like we could do with Daniel’s Jason. Grant Morrison wanted Dick and Damian to have a villain to match their Batman and Robin and they decided to give us a red-haired-pill-headed-red hood. Everything from Morrison’s characterization of Jason is crazy, from the red hair (hello pre-crisis) to the awful Joker’s Red Hood looking suit, everything was just weird.
I still don’t believe that was Jason, to be honest, I would rather think that version of Jason was actually a rouge Skrull that came all the way from the Marvel Universe and lost his way in Gotham City. Maybe when he made the jump between universes, he got too much information and got confused and took the form of the wonkiest Jason Todd he could come up with.
This Jason was absolutely deranged, he knew exactly what he was doing and he didn’t care if innocents died. This Jason was the one that got locked up in Arkham. This is the Jason that Dick put in Arkham for Jason and everybody else’s safety.
Dick putting that Jason in Arkham wasn’t a bad thing or something that anyone can use to shit on Dick Grayson (not on this house). This Arkham was reformed and that Jason knew that if he stayed in that new Arkham he would stay away from trouble, but here is the thing, that Jason loved trouble, so he took all the tests to prove he wasn’t insane and asked to be transferred to Blackgate (where all the Red Hood’s enemies were). That Jason didn’t ask to be sent to Blackgate because the Joker was a cell away from his in Arkham, he did it so he could go on a killing spree in Blackgate (which he did when he got there).
Skrull Jason was just bloodthirsty and nothing like UtRH Jason, he had no motive other than just killing for fun or whatever. He didn’t want to protect Gotham and he couldn’t have cared less about the drug trade in Gotham. In Batman and Robin vol.1. Jason Todd was unrecognizable. And luckily, we never saw him again.
Scott Lobdell in Everything that he ever wrote about Red Hood.
This one is pretty self-explanatory. Lobdell was the king of overpowering Jason, he was the one that drove Red Hood farther and farther away from his street-level vigilante status. He continuously added more to him, he was a big deal because he was meant to take down Ra’s al Ghul, he was a big deal because he was the only human to train in the All-Castle and learned to summon the All-Blades.
This Red Hood’s morals and ideals were kind of gone, there just wasn’t any kind of interest in Jason to get rid of drugs or try to control its trade in Gotham, he just had no interest in street-level threats, everything was extraordinary in both New 52 and Rebirth. If he wasn’t in space he was in some mystical land. His friends and allies became even more and more powerful, his level of power was completely off compared to the others. His personality was ever-changing and quite honestly you could barely see the Jason that he once was.
This Jason also was very inconsistent in the way that he felt towards people (obviously because Lobdell is a shitty writer), he wanted to follow Batman’s rules and was shown as someone that still had fond memories of his life with Bruce before he died but was also willing to let those memories go, to move on? Maybe? I don’t know. But he changed his mind about Bruce and following his rules or not for a very long time. Jason was also a little bitch about Dick, and he was a little bitch because he (Lobdell) never gave the reader or anyone a concrete reason as to why he hated him so much and then in Rebirth he decided that Dick wasn’t that bad. Also, Jason went from “Willis Todd, abusive husband and father that deserved to die” to “Willis Todd abusive husband and father but he sent me letters when he was in prison and Penguin had him killed so now, I really want to avenge him”. Yeah, I don’t really know why that happened and like most of Lobdell’s arcs and stuff it was never really completed or well thought out.
Lobdell’s Jason characterization was a mess for ten years and that’s the prime reason why Jason is a character with no solid background, story or future.
James Tynion IV in Red Hood and the Outlaws.
Tynion’s Jason Todd was a hero, he was like a mini Tom King Batman. Everything he did was right and there was just no way that you could bamboozle him. This Jason was able to hold to Blades that drained his soul as well as hosting the Untitled in his body (that were able to drain his soul too) and on top of all that he completed his journey of the Chosen One by making those ancient martial arts moves that he learned before he was Robin even though Talia hadn’t been able to master it yet.
Scott Snyder, Tim Seeley in Batman Eternal and Batman and Robin Eternal.
A mess, this was pure New 52 levels of bullshit and they all just wanted to push the “Batfamily” and while Dick was gone, they were trying to make Jason fill the void that Dick left in Batman events. It didn’t work at all and all they did was mess around with Jason’s characterization more.
Geoff Johns in Three Jokers.
I have talked enough about Johns’ takes on Jason Todd and Red Hood, but let me tell you something real quick, if a writer thinks that the best they can do with a character is make them give up their morals/ideals for an unrequited love interest, then they can keep that idea for themselves. Geoff Johns wrote a book that was absolutely not needed and then proceeded to butcher every characterization that he could, Three Jokers was three issues long and he managed to add more trauma to Jason’s torture, push the narrative of Jason being at fault for his own murder and make Jason’s motivations to be the Red Hood weak enough to make him want to give up his work for a woman that he barely knows (and doesn’t like him at all).
Joshua Williamson in Future State: Red Hood and Robin #5.
Now, with Williamson I have issues only when he writes Jason, not because his stories are bad, don’t get me wrong, I would have completely enjoyed FS: Red Hood if it weren’t for the completely unnecessary Rose/Jason side plot he had going on. Jason was clearly working undercover for some people that he hated working with. He had to arrest or kill “masks” (vigilantes, just like he “used” to be) for the Magistrate.
His ideas were pretty solid, Jason did the job but he never killed the masks and actively didn’t trust the Magistrate but he was working there to tear them apart from within, and that’s amazing if Williamson had given us Jason Todd/Red Hood working undercover to dismantle an organization I would have been really happy.
But that’s not all he gave us, even if I just forget about his failed attempt at giving Jason a relationship, I can still see that Williamson is the kind of writer that wants (or is just following DC) to make the “Batfamily” happen no matter how dumb and out of place it looks in comics’ canon. So, I am a little bit weary, any writer that leans too much towards making Jason and Bruce work together and become a family makes me want to scream, but I do understand that is just me, many people want those two to be buddy-buddy, I, personally, would love to see Jason kick Bruce in the balls and tell him to lose his number.
Chip Zdarsky in Urban Legends: Cheer.
Ah, yes, I remember the days in which I thought that this could have been something good. Well, I was utterly wrong and I suffered all the way through this mini. I feel like now I can safely say that Zdarsky only wanted to write a Batman book but DC told him, “Hey you can write Batman but it has to be within a Red Hood story, but don’t worry, you don’t have to know much about the Hood guy, just come up with something and write Batman around that”.
I know that’s what happened because I read that story and all we got from it was horrible characterizations for pre-Robin Jason, Robin Jason, Jason Todd and Red Hood. I don’t know how he did it but yes, he managed to mess it all up.
From Jason not really wanting to be Robin and acting recklessly every step of the way, to secret desires of a perfect family with Bruce and so many other people that he couldn’t care about, Urban Legends: Cheer is the perfect book to avoid at all costs if you believe that the concept of “Batfamily” is the biggest lie, DC is trying to profit off this time around.
Zdarsky also nerfed Jason in ways that I thought DC only wanted to nerf Dick Grayson. But I was able to see that I was wrong. Zdarsky’s run also pushed some of the most disastrous narratives that DC really wants readers to believe like: Robin Jason wasn’t good at his job, he was too reckless and ultimately his death was his own fault. Yay! I want to cry!
I will give Zdarsky two points for at the very least showing that Red Hood wants to protect children and that he has a huge issue with how the drug trade is controlled and abused in Gotham City, it had been a while since we had seen that aspect of Jason’s Red Hood make an appearance.
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It’s just too many writers completely missing the point of Red Hood’s character or simply writers agreeing to destroy Jason’s uniqueness in the DC Universe so DC (as the publisher) can further push the abomination that is the “Batfamily” in comics’ canon.
I do agree with you Anon when you say that Jason isn’t just a “bad boy” but I also don’t think that we can call UtRH Jason “dangerously insane”. Personally, I will only use that last description for BftC and Batman and Robin Jason, those two were dangerously insane indeed.
UtRH Jason was very meticulous in who he wanted dead and who got to live. He entered Gotham’s most dangerous world and he had to make a big entrance, he invited the eight most prosperous street dealers to a meeting, showed up with the decapitated heads of each of their right-hand men and an AK-47 and said:
“I am offering you a deal. I will be running the drug trade from now on. You will go about your business as usual. You will kick up forty percent to me. That is a much better deal than the Black Mask will give you. In return, you will have total protection from both the Black Mask and Batman. The catch? You stay away from kids and schoolyards. No dealing to children, got it? If you do, you’re dead.”
This was Red Hood! Red Hood wanted to control the drug trade in Gotham because he knew that Gotham is far too corrupt and filled with drug lords for him to just want to eradicate drugs from Gotham. If he had tried that he would have been a dumbass, but he wasn’t. He didn’t want to start a gang war and get innocent people killed because of it, he wanted to set the rules of his new Empire and he had to start with the street-level drug dealers, from there he grew until he became a major pain in Black Mask’s ass.
We went from Jason wanting to control the drug trade and take over Gotham’s underworld so people like Black mask couldn’t have people work for him (or being dependent on him) when they were still in high school or were in a vulnerable position, to Jason fighting a war for a mystic land because he was their “Chosen One”. DC really wanted to do something grand (yet boring) with Jason instead of sticking to a street-level vigilante that could have become a Drug Lord to control the drug trade of a city that is so filled with crime and corruption that it can’t be saved by anyone.
Batman doesn’t eradicate crime, he “controls” it, puts a blank it over it, lets it nap up until it wakes up once more to make more mess.
Red Hood had other plans, certain criminals didn’t get to nap, or, better said, they would get to nap forever.
So, no. I wouldn’t call that “dangerously insane”, I will call that “vigilante that believes himself judge, jury and executioner” of a city that is drowning in crime and corruption.
Anyway, I hope you have a really nice week Anon and thank you so much for sending me this ask!
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britcision · 1 year ago
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Happy WIP Wednesday again friends! I have some more of chapter 17 for you after last week’s break (it has been a fucking BUSY week too holy shit)
Just a lil snack while the lore churns in the background
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Well You Did Get Down On One Knee part ii
The evening was beginning to draw in, the sun getting low over Gotham city. Between her patrol the night before, helping Signal out with a case, and then that brief group heart attack about Jason, it had already been a really long day.
Spoiler cracked her neck a couple times and sighed, then sunk into the shadow behind a gargoyle.
It was smaller than usual… and occupied. Robin glowered up at her, leaping up to sit on the gargoyle’s head instead. He looked for all the world like he wanted to hiss at her like a cranky cat, which diffused all of Spoiler’s tension (but would only make his worse if she mentioned it. Maybe tomorrow).
Sighing philosophically she settled back against the base of the gargoyle, tipping her head back to see him.
“Hey… what are you doing out so early? Usually you lot wait until sundown to swing from the shadows,” she pointed out (rather fairly, she thought).
Robin just scowled disdainfully down at her, then twisted his head away to glare at the city instead.
“As if I needed any more reason to be out than you do,” he sniffed archly.
Spoiler grinned, puffing herself up. She did have an answer for this one.
“Hey, I was actually requested today. Signal needed a second pair of eyes on the back door of a bust. Didn’t see you there,” she added innocently, a brow rising.
It was technically possible that Robin could have suited up and left the manor in between Bruce’s message and Tim’s response. Spoiler wouldn’t put money on it though.
He’d have had to be on his way down already, and while they could all change quickly, there were no rushed or sloppy patches to her experienced eye.
His hair was even neatly slicked back into the traditional Robin spikes, one every Robin but her and Duke had used during their time as the baby bird.
Nah, he’d not rushed out in a panic, even if he was still more tense than he should have been. Every line of the kid was tight with… Spoiler cocked her head thoughtfully.
Frustration?
Definitely not unusual, Damian didn’t have Dick’s temper but he’d spent pretty much all of his first few years in Gotham unbearably frustrated with them all. It had just been a while since she’d seen it so… visibly.
And for all Steph was a gleeful little shit and loved poking at trouble, she wasn’t cruel. There was no point in pushing Robin if he was already on edge.
So she shrugged nonchalantly and looked forward instead, reaching back over her head to pat him gently on the foot. He didn’t dodge, which only cemented her decision.
“‘Course, no rule against taking a daylight run if you’re in the mood. See anything interesting?” She asked nonchalantly.
Kid wouldn’t admit it if he had been worrying.
Silence reigned for another long moment, and then Robin huffed and dropped down to the rooftop beside her, folding himself back into the sharper shadow the daylight provided.
“No.” Short and sweet, unlike the kid himself.
But he also hadn’t left, and Spoiler was gonna call that a win.
“Will you be out tonight too?” She asked instead of pushing, reminding herself yet again; he’d open up in his own time.
Hypothetically.
Robin made a soft, disgusted noise, glowering at the smog filled sky. Probably even in the right direction for the Watchtower.
“I intend to be. Someone must keep an eye on things,” he grumbled, and Spoiler made an effort not to take it personally.
B had been majorly distracted with all this Amity Park business, not even breathing down their necks about the usual nightly reports. The rogues hadn’t exactly noticed yet, but the goons had.
The big Bat himself not making an appearance for a couple of nights usually attracted some comment, and an up-til-now entirely Bat-free new year?
The guys she’d helped Signal grab today had been muttering about it right until they ran into her arms. Fists.
They’d mentioned not seeing Stabby Robin either though.
Which she might as well also mention.
“Weren’t you out last night too? I saw your gear missing when I dropped by at the end of the night,” she added when he tensed again, hands wedged in her utility belt. “Didn’t hear you on comms though.”
And that was more than just rude; it was bad protocol, and Robin, for all his other faults, respected the strictness of protocol.
He stayed silent, not looking at her. Spoiler decided he could use just a little push.
“Y’know unless you went out tech free I can just ask Oracle,” she pointed out gently, giving his shoulder a gentle bump.
It got him to glower up at her anyway.
“I was not on patrol,” he grumbled, whites of his mask narrowed before returning his glare to the city at large, “like I am not today.”
When he didn’t elaborate, Spoiler flipped a mental coin. Figured why not; they were already doing well.
Kid must be on the verge of having to, dread the thought, ask for help.
“And what would you be doing out and about if not patrolling…” she began, then stopped when a piece clicked suddenly into place.
Robin, Damian, was about as social as a feral cat. And about as friendly with anyone who got close to those he considered his.
Right now, Danny Fenton and his friends had more than half the family utterly wound up. All except Bruce in a good way, Spoiler was the first to admit, but Robin wouldn’t see it like that.
The only trick was, how to word the question.
Spoiler liked blunt. It made her stand out from the bats, who all played way too much mental and emotional chicken to be healthy. She’d always been more of a bird that way.
“Wouldn’t have anything to do with Hood’s little disappearance today, would it?” She asked instead, grinning broadly when Robin twitched.
Hit the nail on the head.
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moonlit-imagines · 4 years ago
Text
Misbehavior (Part 1)
Jason Todd x batkid!reader
warnings:
a/n: tysm anon!!
prompt: anonymous: “Hello Lacey! Hope your doing great! Could I please request a bat family x batsis!reader where the reader is Kind of the middle child (I was thinking older than Damian but younger than Tim) and she’s always forgotten and in the back. Maybe some scenarios can be that no one listens when she talks or they forget to invite her to do stuff. So then one day she acts up in school like maybe punching someone for no good reason because she’s craving attention but instead of Bruce showing up to get her Jason shows up and he sees that she’s actually really sad and starts to question her until she tells him everything and maybe spills some tears and it ends with just Jason comforting her and cheering her up. Just some soft Jason for my soul! Also have a great day and I hope that you feel better and more motivated now after your break! 😘”
part 2
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No matter what you did, none of your deeds went unnoticed. Good or bad.
You always heard how Dick was so independent, the one everyone should use as an example.
You always heard how Barbara could do it all, she never failed to impress.
You always heard how Jason was reckless, someone who needed to get his act together.
You always heard how Tim was such a prodigy, he was one of a kind.
You always heard how Steph was so determined, she had such amazing goals.
You always heard that Cass was perfect, they’d never change a thing about her.
You always heard that Duke was so strong, he’d never give up no matter what stood in his way.
You always heard that Damian was dangerous, a kid that needed to be guided.
But what about you? What did they hear about you? Nothing. No one ever spoke of you, they didn’t have the time. It seemed as if you were just unimpressive, there wasn’t one thing that needed to be mentioned. Stuck in the middle of a bunch of bats and birds, no way to stand out in the crowd.
Maybe not in a mask or a cowl, a dress or a suit, behind a computer or among the darkness, but there was one place you couldn’t be ignored...
You sat at your desk, picking at old tape with the tip of your fingernail. The teacher had nothing interesting to say, so what was the point of being here? What made Gotham Academy so special that you just had to attend this place?
The uniform was overkill, the classes went nowhere, the students were too preppy, and you didn’t have a single thing in common with anyone here.
Anger was starting to bubble inside you as you continued your internal self-loathing. Your mind was only focused on the negative, but it was shifting from school back to home.
No one was ever there for you, not even on patrol. You’d called for backup several times on missions and nearly lost it all when you had to go in alone. If it were anyone else, a teammate would have met them in a heartbeat.
Your plans were always overshadowed whenever you tried to set up a mission or even just a day off. You wanted cookies? Too bad, Tim wants brownies. You wanted to watch a movie? Too bad, everyone chose a TV show. It was the little things that irked you the most. Half the time, you never even got the memo.
And what about when you all come back from patrol with all sorts of injuries and Alfred comes to patch you up? Well, not you. He’ll run to check on cuts and scrapes. Meanwhile, you had a broken wrist and a black eye.
You’d finally run out of things to pick at around your desk which resorted in you tapping instead. There was a brief bit of zoning out as you remembered the time that Damian’s plan for evading Killer Croc’s attack was to push you in the way. Or the time that Jason hid his guns in your bed for reasons he didn’t care to explain. Or when Dick drank the last of the milk and didn’t tell you until after you poured your cereal. Or when Tim told you that you weren’t fit for the mission he had been planning. Or when Bruce blatantly ignored the story you told out of pure excitement, giving you nothing but a “sounds like you had fun.”
While you were in a horrible daze, you felt a hand on your shoulder that snapped you out of it faster than the Barry Allen. Without even evaluating the situation, your reflexes caused you to turn and twist your classmates arm backwards as he screamed.
“Hey! Stop, ow, that hurts! Stop! Stop it!” You processed his words too late and knew exactly what was coming next.
“Y/N L/N!” You teacher shouted as you drew your hand back. “Dean’s office. Right now.” Her sharp voice sent a chill down your spine, not even the Joker could do that. You’d be able to explain the situation pretty easily, you just didn’t want to make it worse. But there was one ankle that sent you off the edge. Another student tripped you on your way through the aisles, and that student caught a fist to the face. The audience gasped and shouting from your teacher ensued, but you didn’t listen, you’d take the punishment at this point. So you walked right out and headed for the dean’s office without so much as a hall pass.
“Mx. l/n? What’s this about?” Dean Williams was surprised to say the least, you’d never been sent in for discipline before. Was there a certain way to do this?
“Well, I zoned out and some kid behind me grabbed my shoulder, I accidentally twisted his arm.” You retold your story, the abridged version. “But on my way out I punched a kid in the face because he tripped me. That one’s on me.”
“...Well,” the dean frowned at his obligations, but had to go through with some kind of punishment, “I’m going to have to suspend you for physical contact with a student. I’ll call your father to come pick you up.” You shrugged and slouched back in your chair, giving up on any hope of talking your way out of this. It might as well just happen. You listened to the clicking of the buttons on the dean’s phone as he typed in the Wayne Manor phone number, obviously reaching Alfred almost immediately.
“Wayne Manor.” You eard his faint voice through the speaker.
“Hello, this is Dean Williams from Gotham Academy, may I speak to Mr. Wayne? I have his child in my office.” Your dean explained over the phone, peeking back at your for a split second. You were completely unbothered, it was baffling.
“Is it Damian?” You heard him ask, causing an involuntary eye roll.
“Y/N, actually.” There was a long pause before someone else picked up the phone. “Mr. Wayne, this is Dean Williams at Gotham Academy. I have y/n sitting across from me right now, they seemed to have gotten themself into a physical altercation with two separate students, I have no choice but to suspend them.” You heard a deep sigh over the phone, then the handheld piece was handed to you.
“Bruce?” You asked.
“Really? Fighting at school?” He sounded unimpressed. Nothing new, even when you do something new.
“Something like that. Whoops.” He hung up on you right after that, so you handed the phone back and told your dean, “Guess they’ll get me soon.”
“You call your father by his first name?” Dean Williams had nosily questioned.
“I’m adopted.” He obviously didn’t know you as well as your more troublesome sibling, it was time he just minded his business.
After a good thirty minutes of silent waiting while listening to keyboard clacking and papers flipping by the front desk, the office door opened, and to your surprise, it was one of your brothers.
“I’m here for y/n.” He mumbled, signing the piece of paper and showing his ID.
“Alright, Mr. Harper, I just have to check some paperwork really quick...” The receptionist went into your file and checked for your emergency contacts. “You’re all set. Now, y/n has been suspended for two weeks. I suggest you get to the bottom of their little ‘outburst’ before they’re able to come back to school.” It actually pissed Jason off to hear her say that.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” His sarcasm wasn’t subtle. “Come on, kid.” Your brother gripped your arm and led you out of the office, noticing your bitter expression that he couldn’t even rationalize. Was that normal? “So what happened. Bruce just told me to come get you.”
“Of course he did.” You rolled your eyes on the brink of tears, he didn’t even come to get you himself. Jason opened the car door for you and nudged you inside, slamming it once you were clear.
“You better have a good reason,” he warned as he started the engine, “I was in the middle of a poker game.”
“Oh, yeah, ‘cause I’m such an inconvenience.” You were starting to remind him of himself. That was never a good thing.
“Okay, my bad. I didn’t mean it like that.” Jason began speeding down the block, you’d never once seen him obey a speed limit. You’d think someone with a fake ID and a death certificate would want to avoid any run-ins with the cops, but Gotham was just one of those cities.
“Yeah, right.” You reached for the radio knobs and felt Jason’s hand wrap around your wrist.
“No music until you explain yourself.” You fell back into your seat to pout, muttering some curses under your breath. “I won’t tell Bruce or anyone. I swear.”
“I just zoned out. Reflexes.” You bluntly replied.
“What?” He still didn’t have any context to go off of.
“I twisted someone’s arm backwards. Honest mistake.” Jason knew there was more to this story. “But on my way out of the classroom, I punched this kid who tried to trip me. That was on him.”
“As much as I condone payback, you can’t do that at school.” He sighed. “You’ve never been sent home before. That I know of. So why now?”
“Yeah, you know, maybe that’s the issue? You couldn’t tell me if I’ve ever gotten in trouble before. None of you could. You couldn’t tell me a definitive thing about me. When’s my birthday, Jason?” He was at a loss for words. “That’s what I thought.”
“So this was all for attention?” Jason asked. “There’s a hell of a lot of better ways to go about that.”
“Tried them all, this one barely even worked.” You replied with a crack in your voice. “How come none of you care about me? Why am I always looked over? I’m just like the rest of you. I put on that stupid suit every night and kick ass, I get my job done, I get good grades, I’m resourceful, I’m special—” You’d let that last one slip in your rant to your older brother, it shocked him so bad he stopped the car.
“I know what you mean.” Jason stared straight ahead at the empty road. “I felt the same way when I came back. After everyone was used to me being back, it was like nothing ever happened. Bruce just went back to calling me careless, irresponsible.”
“At least you get noticed, Jason. Your identifiable.” You turned to him with a pained look and he risked his confidence to look you in the eye. Once he did, he couldn’t look away. It hurt him to see someone so familiar to himself have tears running down their face because they felt forgotten. No kid should ever have to feel like that. That was why Bruce took him in. That was how Jason became Robin.
“Fuck this.” Jason hit the gas and turned the car around. “We’re getting ice cream. Do you like ice cream? That’s a serious question.”
“I...I guess.” You were somewhat confused by his sudden literal change in direction.
“Good. You’re my kid for today, all my attention goes to you. I’m sure Bruce won’t notice if you’re gone for a few hours.” Jason’s jaw dropped at his last comment. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“No, you’re right and you should say it.”
taglist: @thatwaspossession // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @kinoko-kai //
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