dulcet-aurora

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david corenswet as superman (2025)

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do yall think conner mistakes every bald white dude for lex 💀💀 bro sees a pitbull album cover and starts bawling bc daddy issues

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they inspire me to be cunty and hateful and sunshiney and kind at the same time

Superman (2025) | Dir. James Gunn

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queen kore keeping us informed THANK YOU KORE!!! we all scream in unison

hiii i luv your writing so much!! this is probably a silly question but what media do you read/watch to get a good understanding of the batboys? i want to write about them ^_^ i know only a little based on what I've read from stories but other than that im clueless... sorry if this is a very weird thing to ask.... i just luv your writing and look up to you!!!

not a silly question at all my dear! 💞 it makes me so happy you look up to me 🥹🥹 i wish you the best of luck in writing for them.

there is a lot of media to choose from when learning about the batboys characters. Almost every comic, movie & game shows us different sides of their personality. id recommend these medias to start from. i would like to clarify that i am no expert in this. i have barely read any comics about them.

IM UPDATING THIS LITTLE GUIDE. most of the suggestions i gave were to give you all a quick understanding. now i see alot of people are liking this list but i just had to give you guys justice and gather up more suggestions and recommendations. but this time, they're actually important for lore and not only for a quick understanding.

lore wise:

a death in the family (jason todd's death) (no ones surprised kore); a lonely place of dying (immediately after ditf) (tim's introduction); batman: knightfall; batman: no man's land; bruce wayne: murderer/fugitive; batman: war games (ive heard its rough tho)

something lighter?

batgirl (2000) (cassandra cain); robin (1993) (tim drake); batgirl (2009) (stephanie brown)

quick understanding:

batman: death in the family & batman: under the red hood, Arkham Knight (a more gritty version of jay, bruce, etc) juni ba's comics (i recommend juni ba's comics to every dc fan), batman vs robin, son of batman, gotham knights (take this one with a GRAIN OF SALT, not many liked it, i personally liked it, very OOC imo, but fun 😭), wayne family adventures. (most of my characteristics for the batboys comes from wfa, its not exactly canon, more slice of life) young justice is a classic (currently watchinf yj, you could watch it for nightwing i suppose)

I have some issues with the movies, considering we do not get the full batfamily in most of them, plus i feel like their culture/roots often gets ignored (damian and dick for example). (Jason, tim and duke are often ignored. Mostly duke though).

what to keep in mind when writing:

dont fall for the stereotypes. jason wasn't some angry robin. tim isnt always glued to his computer. duke is 100% a batfam member and has his own full fleshed out character. damian isn't unfeeling. talia isn't a horrid mother. bruce is flawed yes, but for our sakes give him a chance.

dont forget their roots/race/ethnicity— i think it is canon that dick is romani (writers put that in ~2000's, in a very racist way as well. it doesn't erase the fact dick is romani, but take advice from romani and roma creators when writing for him (if you plan on highlighting his heritage)). damian is mixed— arab and chinese heritage on his mother's side, plus bruce is white so (wow kore you worded that beautifully). for damian his culture is pretty important— id recommend letting it shine through while writing.

dont forget duke. duke thomas is a batboy. he will always be a batboy. try and include him in any works where the other batboys r included.

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i love this sm

Wally West as Your BF! - SMAU

Pairing: Wally West x reader

CW: Swearing, inappropriate jokes, bad sexting attempt on wally's behalf

A/N: SMAU for Wally YAY!! tagging my bae - @moviecritc - I thought of you while making this pookie <3

Hope you all enjoyed this! Likes, comments, reblogs and requests are highly appreciated! Requests are open!

Sources! -

Dividers - @hyuneskkami + @enchanthings + @edensrose

Icon Header - @pfpanimes

Property of suigenerisisadiva, do not repost my work pls & ty!

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Every time someone draws jaybin and dick and dick is in the modern nightwing suit instead of discowing, I know they are not pure of heart

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more waisan!jon kent coming soon i promise 😞

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i’m not getting over this i love you jonathan kent

"My lovely boy"

Jon Kent x Fem! Reader

INSPIRED BY : YES TO HEAVEN - LANA DEL REY

------------------------------------------

Alien

Freak

Monster

He knew they were doing that just to get under his skin, he knew that. But he could not stop it. He cried. Superboy cried. Alone. In his childhood room, cying his eyes out. He was all alone.

His dad left him in charge of Metropolis while he was gone and he was not prepared for the things he would hear. I hurted him really. Since his return to Earth, it was not the same. Losing his one true friend, years under control of Ultraman changed him. Not only physical but even mental. He hated it. His years of childhood was stolen and it will never be brought back no matter how much he wanted and tried.

But right now the only thing he could do is cry. Cry, cry, cry and it hurted. Son of Superman, Superboy, Man of Steel it didn't matter everything hurt and it was horrible.

Jonathan sat there, his cries muffled by the fast breaths coming from his throat. His head hurts and it is absolutely horrible. First time he felt powerless and damaged in the worst way possible. He is alone, all alone and broken.

"Jon?" it was like a voice of an angel. Sweet like honey, warm as summer breeze.

"Oh Jon, what happened to you?" He hears the soft steps, coming close and closer, bringing feelings of love.

(Y/n), the fifteen years old girl, who stayed at his side since the time he got from space. If you asked Jon right now, when did they met, he wouldn't know. The only important thing is that she is here. An embrace he needed.

"Jonathan what happened? Are you hurt? Did something happen to Lois? Or your dad? Love talk to me..." There it was, the soft voice fron the East. Her soft British accent, he always loves to hear.

He smiles, lifting his hand to her face, his palm gently brushing her cheek. He loves them, the softness, the beautiful (s/c) that just settles with her eyes. She is perfect. More perfect than anything.

And you are a freak. An abomination to society. A monster of destruction. Alien!

Only the thoughts of those words, hurt him. (Y/n) watches as Jonathan breaks down, crying his eyes out, his voice barely recognisable, cover in wimps and muffled cries.

"Oh, Jonathan..."She hugs him and he gladly returns it. He needs support, he needs the help and she is here, with her arms open.

"It's okay Jon, it's okay. Let it all out..." with that words, Jon couldn't stop it, his cries became louder, his eyes watering and sending crocodile tears down (Y/n) 's deculte, as she hugs him closer. It was easier for him, she knows that, what ever happened it hurted him and this was his only way of getting his pain out.

(Y/n) lent herself on the bed, getting herself comfortable on the hard wooden floor. Her hands circled in Jon's hair as his head lays in her lap. It took Jon good half an hour to calm down and still you could hear small cries coming from his mouth. He curled himself into a ball, trying to make himself smaller with his head under (Y/n) 's safety.

"What happened that it broke you so bad?" She says as she tries to change her sitting position, resulting in strong arms wrapping around her torso.

"Don't leave me. Please..."

"Don't worry about that. I want just to make myself comfortable... What if we get you to bed Jonno?" he nods, still motionless on the floor. (Y/n) signs as she puts her hands under his arms, slowly lifting him up.

Surprisingly he was lighter than she expected, but it still resulted in her dropping to bed with Jon on top. (Y/n)'s face burns bright red, her body steel, while Jon on the other hand, buries his face in the crock of her neck, hus hands cycling around her waist.

"Jon this is a little awkward.. Could you-"

"Please don't go... I'm not a monster..." her heart aches from his words. Why did he think that? Why did he even put a mind to that?

"Oh Jon, oh my darling love..."She wraps her arms around his back, one of her hands finding their way to his hair.

"You are not a monster. You are the sweet man i met."(Y/n) says as she gives him a light kiss on his head. Jon slowly moves to her right, keeping her locked in his hands. She smiles looking at his puffy blue eyes, almost red from crying. She lifts her hand to his face, loving evedy part.

"My Superman. I couldn't ask for more." Jon's broken face turns into a sweet smile, putting his forehead on hers.

"(Y/n)... Am i a freak?" she just shakes her head, hugging Jon to her, giving him a light kiss on the forehead. He lifts his head, capturing her lips in his. The sweet taste if honey and love, filling his head. He loves it. It calms him.

"Never, my lovely boy. Never..."

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wasian!tim drake who looks more asian and wasian!jon kent who looks more white is real and no you will not convince me otherwise!

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my baby

IMPULSE By Dan Mora, in Justice League Unlimited (2024) #5

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sorry (but actually not even a little bit) but those “perv” characterizations of certain characters in fanfics are so weird. like actually borderline criminal. the things they're doing literally IS a crime.. for example p3d0phelia, r4pe, h4rrassment etc... it’s so unsettling and i don’t get the appeal at all.. why are we romanticizing literal creeps. why is that cute to people. it’s not edgy it’s just gross. my opinion!!!!! and i don’t care!!!!! respectfully or disrespectfully idk!!!

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wiping tears on a random bus in tokyo my gosh 😭😭😭😭🩷🩷🩷🩷

𐔌 ⋮ “A portrait of you”

“I chose her because no canvas could ever deserve her — and I needed to try.”

It starts with an assignment.

Portrait study. Full color. Medium of your choice.

The instructions are plain. Uninspired. But Damian reads them like prophecy.

He doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t consider still life, or a self-portrait, or even Gotham’s sharp skyline bathed in twilight. No. The answer is immediate.

His girlfriend.

Of course it’s her.

She laughs when he tells her.

“Me?” she says, cocking an eyebrow as she tucks a curl behind her ear. “Damian, you’re an actual billionaire. You could hire a model.”

“I don’t want a model,” he replies. “I want you.”

She goes still. Then quieter:

“Why?”

He doesn’t answer. Not with words.

Instead, he turns to his sketchbook — page after page already filled with her: the curve of her ankle as it rests over her knee; the shape of her mouth mid-sentence; her hand, half-raised in a laugh she didn’t know he’d been watching.

He’s been painting her for months. Years, maybe. Long before anyone asked him to.

── .✦

They spend the afternoon in the Wayne Manor greenhouse.

The light there is soft, dappled through leaves and glass. She sits on the edge of an old bench, barefoot, a cup of tea balanced on her knee. Her curls are pinned up lazily. There’s soil under her fingernails from helping Alfred re-pot basil. She wears his hoodie — too big, the sleeves swallowed by her hands — and looks like a quiet hymn to spring.

Damian stands a few feet away. Brushes ready. Canvas prepped. Jaw tight.

She gives him a skeptical look.

“You’re making that face again.”

“I’m concentrating.”

“You’re brooding.”

“That’s a form of concentration.”

She rolls her eyes and sips her tea.

He paints.

Quietly. Devoutly. Without spectacle.

Layer by layer, he brings her to life. Not just her features, but her light. The gold warmth in her eyes. The gentle arc of her spine as she leans forward. The way her mouth curves when she’s not smiling — but about to.

“This is… more than an assignment,” she says softly, watching him work.

“Everything about you is more than.”

── .✦

He doesn’t let her see it until it’s done.

When he finally turns the canvas toward her, she goes very still. No jokes. No teasing.

She stares.

In the portrait, she looks ethereal — soft-edged and lit like dawn. He’s painted her not as a girl, but as a reverence. The kind of thing old myths are made from. The kind of face that makes kings kneel and gods weep.

Her lips part. Her eyes shine.

“Damian…” she whispers. “This is… I look like… like something sacred.”

“You are.”

── .✦

The next day, his teacher stares at the painting in silence. For too long.

When she finally speaks, her voice is quiet:

“And why did you choose this subject?”

Damian doesn’t flinch.

“Because no canvas will ever deserve her. But I had to try.”

── .✦

Back at the Manor that evening, she kisses him beneath the greenhouse skylight.

And Damian — heir of shadow, son of two blades, sculpted for war — forgets every lesson except one:

She is the only art he ever wanted to make.

Taglist🏷️: @simpingmyassoff @shootingstargirl2001 , @dreamerwhofell , @gothamwing , @amiratheangel , @virtaideen , @asterwriter221 , @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore (if you want to be added comment down below!!)

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this fic making a comeback heals something in me :(

scatterbrain . jon kent x reader ⸼ ࣪ ✿ ❛ kiss me, beneath the milky twilight. ❜

❪ in which. ❫ you make jon kent lose his mind a little.

⸼ ࣪ ✿ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔. tooth rotting fluff. ⸼ ࣪ ✿ 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚. this anon! ⸼ ࣪ ✿ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕. 1.5k. ⸼ ࣪ ✿ 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔. @di-lucss, @ephemerensis, @dollishmehrayan, @aangelinakii. ⸼ ࣪ ✿ 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆'𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒓. there was a note from an old situationship/talking stage/whatever term this fucked up generation has established for being in limbo with someone you like apologizing for fumbling me. it had been in there for a month. i didn't know. send help. also i'm kind of pushing the wasian!jon agenda idk. he's so 6'3 popular wasian boy coded. wasian!jon with glasses for the win! one last thing: ignore how i have no idea how to write teen!jon, i just know he's a sweetheart but incorporated themes of conventionally attractive teenage boys from my actual experience. i had to lock the conner kent lover inside of me behind bars. bear with me okay.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝒆verybody loved jon kent. he never had anything bad to say about anyone, did his homework, loved his mom. he had a kind smile and a kinder heart, blue eyes and dark hair and glasses that always seemed to slip down his nose. there was nothing to dislike. you out of all people should be able to confirm that, taking as jon kent had been apart of your life since before there was a jon kent— your dads had interned at the daily planet back in high school and had been best friends ever since. you had known jon since you were squealing babies rolling around on a mat.

he'd been there when you were eleven and got your first period on the couch. you'd seen him through the awkward few years in middle school when his voice flew into awkward pitches and his shoulders and feet felt too big for him. he'd bandaged your scraped knees, learned to braid with your tangled hair. when the both of you were ten, you had sat next to him in the waiting room of the optometrist and comforted him due to his embarrassment with the new pair of clunky glasses sitting on his nose.

"you look just like your papa!" you'd said with a cheeky smile. you'd wrapped your arms around his shoulders in a hug as he smiled bashfully. lois had captured the moment on her phone and that picture sat snugly in a frame on his desk.

you leaned against his desk and stared at that photo, the frame cradled in your hands. on his desk sat another framed memory of you and him, much more recent. it was taken the previous summer when your family and his took a vacation to disney. he had his arms looped over your shoulders and his chin perched on your head as you stood in front of the tron ride. you held up a peace sign and were caught mid-laugh. you loved that picture.

everybody loved jon kent. but it was evident you loved him a little more.

raindrops drizzled down the windowpane and you set the picture back down on the desk. your eyes still lingered on the photo in the way warmth settled in your bones after a hug. a rumble of thunder echoed outside, rippling through the clouds like the tidal wave of warmth washing over your heart. you sank onto jon's desk chair and kept your eyes trained on the two framed photographs. different ages, but the same smiles, the same love for each other filling up the space between you.

you heard the click of a light switch turning on and you spun around in the chair to meet the startled eyes of today's jon kent, with a white towel wrapped around his waist and in complete lack of a shirt. droplets of water nestled themselves between his pectorals, dewy peach skin glowing in the golden light that bounced off the white towel, hugging perfect biceps and a sharp jawline.

you squeaked, hiding your face in your hands. all the warmth within your heart flooded your cheeks. jon jumped in time with a yelp, his hands scrambling to cover himself up. it wasn't as if you hadn't seen him without a shirt before, you had spent countless summer afternoons together in his pool. but this was different than seeing him in a swimsuit, being alone in his room with the chance of the towel around his waist dropping.

"what the fu—" jon cleared his throat and fumbled with his glasses that were balanced in his now shaking hands. you heard erratic footsteps that shook the floor and the harsh opening of his closet door. following was the desperate rustle for clothes and mumbled curses that were further muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

you babbled out apologies, attempting to bury your face even further into your hands than humanely possible. "sorry, sorry, sorry!" you shrieked, your squirming causing the chair to spin around slowly.

"what are you doing in my room?!" jon demanded, the sharpness of his words more flustered than angry.

"sorry, sorry!" you repeated, your face now buried in your biceps. you bit the inside of your elbow to keep yourself from screaming. "i— i thought you heard—"

"heard?!" jon exclaimed.

you heard footsteps outside the door and lois' voice called up, "is everything all right up there?"

jon glared at you, the fluster in his eyes shifting to desperation but still far from anger, before cupping a hand over his mouth and yelling back, "we're fine, mom!" you peered over your arms to see that— thankfully— he had clothes on now. a faded ac/dc t-shirt you'd gotten him at a thrift shop a few months ago that fit him disgustingly well and plaid pajama pants.

"you thought i heard?!" he hissed through clenched teeth before quietly closing the door to not cause anymore of a ruckus.

"i— i don't know!" you flapped your hands uselessly. "y-you have super-hearing and whatever, i don't know what your stupid periodic table genes give you!"

"periodic table?" he blinked, the agitation in his eyes clouding over in confusion before it finally registered in his brain. he looked at you with exasperated eyes, "ha, ha. you're as bad as damian." he shook his head to bring himself back to the current matter. "i was in the shower!"

"i was right outside!" you dug your nails into your cheeks. "you can hear people's heartbeats across the country! surely you can hear through a wall."

jon adjusted his glasses, giving you a look behind the lenses. "i'm not constantly checking your whereabouts."

you pressed the heels of your hands into your cheeks, trying to swallow down the awkwardness. it wasn't that big a deal. you exhaled and looked back at him with a look in your eyes that was a solution of earnestness and guile. "you should. i'm like, your best friend. in the whole wide world. the whole wide universe if i may be so bold. what if i went missing?"

"i'd find you, obviously," he muttered without missing a beat. he walked over, ruffling his damp hair and flicking your forehead as he passed you to get to his bed. you blinked and batted at his hand as the chair turned another circle.

you blew a stray lock of hair out of your face. "that's sweet." you smiled before turning back finding a bright blue hoodie and yanking it off the hanger. you slipped it on over your shoulders and let the warmth of cotton consume you. you caught a whiff of peppermint and aftershave on the hood. you hummed softly, the warmth of the fabirc and the comforting smell a mimic of jon's hugs.

"it's habit," jon gave you a shy grin. and that sweet something bloomed even bigger in your chest. he picked up a stray comic lying on his navy bedspread to hide the flush in his cheeks. "so... [ name ]." he dragged out the syllables of your name.

"so... jon." you mimicked his tone.

he looked up at you briefly, "that's my hoodie." he mumbled, his words sounding the slightest bit judgmental in your ears.

"i was cold," you said. "you gonna take it off?"

jon shot forward with a cough. "w-what?"

you toyed with the hem before closing the closet door and padding back over to his desk chair. "nothing," you said.

"what were you doing in my room," he asked suddenly, fighting to keep a casual tone as he grasped for another topic. he pushed his glasses up on his nose.

"i spend more time in here than i do in my own house," you replied. "why the sudden concern?"

jon flipped a page with a harsh fwip and cleared his throat. "no reason. you staying for dinner?"

"probably." you eyed him suspiciously.

"cool. cool. that's cool." he mumbled, chewing the inside of his cheeks.

your eyes stayed trained on him, noticing the price sticker labelling the comic for two dollars resting on his knees. the comic was upside down. you snickered, "how's the book?" you drawled.

" 's good," jon said.

"you must be an exceptionally good reader," you teased.

jon looked up at you with sparkling eyes, "did i ever tell you i got put in the highest reading group in fourth grade?"

"yes, jon, i know. i was there with you."

"oh."

you giggled, standing up from the chair and sauntering over to the edge of his bed. "and miss harmon must've seen something truly special in you, jonny," you continued, tapping the top of the book. "if you can read a comic upside down."

jon's blue eyes stopped moving back and forth over the pages. your finger pushed the book down slowly until it fell onto his lap. he gave you a bashful smile, "hey."

"hi." you smiled back at him, taking a seat on the edge of his bed.

he kissed his teeth and looked down at the comic resting on his legs. he pointed at it, then back at you. "kryptonian vision." he said with a quick nod.

"nice save."

© dulcet-aurora 2025.

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no fics for a couple weeks, i'm going to japan !!

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hope this helps!!

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The reactions to The Batman part 2 announcements are always so funny on twt

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fic so good it reminded me how hungry i was

ooh, sugar pie, honey bunch | damian wayne cooking for you ˚｡⋆ ୨୧

masterlist

damian wayne is, above everything, a perfectionist. it’s a double edged sword, really. it means he’s a hard-worker, and he’s willing to give his all to achieve what he wants, but it also means he sets standards too high for himself.

so when he gets in a relationship with you, he’s determined to be the best boyfriend the world has ever known.

given his reserved nature and his obvious lack of interest in most people, he’s not the most experienced when it comes to relationships — so when he decided to attempt cooking for the first time, he resorted to good old intensive research.

research indicates that couples who cook for each other feel more engaged, present, and appreciated in their relationships.

‘seems reasonable’. he thought to himself. you’ll definitely be very pleased — he can already picture it. the slight squint in your eyes when you’ll smile as he presents the food, the compliments you’ll give. he’s got this.

it starts of too easy. he scours the internet for a recipe he deems adequate. he chooses a vegan recipe that seemed perfect in theory, except he severely miscalculated the level of his cooking skills.

he asks alfred for help picking ingredients but dismisses any kind of assistance or input when it came to actual cooking, confident there would be no problems. he’s damian al ghul wayne after all — notable strategist, master of martial arts, hero and protector of gotham…

and a disaster in the kitchen.

the sauce is way too overcooked, but somehow the pasta is way too hard still. the ingredients are clashing with each other in a myriad of different flavors, the ones from the original recipe, and the ones he put him trying to fix it. — he doesn’t present it to you, just cleans it up and pretends it never happened.

well, mostly. because then and there, it had become a personal challenge.

he spent the following days watching tutorials, reading cookbooks with tips for beginners. a week later, he is standing in the kitchen again, the countertops of the kitchen are full of ingredients of the same recipe he claims ‘defeated’ him. sleeves are rolled up. he’s even rocking a damn apron.

“watch and learn, titus” he looks over at the great dane lounging on the floor, staring back at him in curiosity.

he takes his time, always double checking every step to make sure he’s doing everything right. he’s determined to make this perfect. and when he’s finally done, he’s beaming with joy. he’s victorious once again, left only with a giant mess he has to clean up.

later that day, the smell of food fills the dining room in a delicious embrace, you find already waiting for you, a mahogany table is set up for a meal, a cream-colored linen table runner, embroidered with a subtle Wayne crest in silver thread, runs down the center. he pulls a chair so you can sit down, his serious expression contrasting his expectant eyes as he serves you the dinner he made.

his shoulders relax as you, you compliment his food, taking another bite with enthusiasm.

“only the best for you, my beloved”