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nbundarin · 1 year

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Acceptance (Fanfic)

Clark Kent strummed his fingers on his knee. He could count on a few of them the amount of time he had ever had a butterfly and now he could add a pinky. For Gotham, Leslie Thompkins’s apartment was a stark contrast to the gothic, brutalist and Tim Burton fever dream outside. It was a two bed, two bath, accented in Alice blue and Roux white. The decor had a modern sensibility but the paintings lining the walls and photographs spotting here and there made it homie. On Zillow it would make a great steal, if Zillow dared to list anything in Gotham. Clark had particularly smiled at a picture of Leslie, standing between a beautiful red-headed bride, in a decked-out wheelchair, lilac, laced around her spokes, and a sharp-looking groom, his Biscayne blue’s elevating his boy next door smile.

“You made a very handsome usher,” Leslie stood between the linoleum of the kitchen and the hard wood of the living room. She was a petite woman, with silver hair, sloppily bundled on her head, and chocolate brown eyes framed in cat rimmed glasses. She could be the aunt who tells you a bawdy joke at the family Christmas party or your mom’s best friend whose advice you take even when your parents said the exact same thing

“That was a fun night,” Clark started.

“For the world’s greatest introvert, Bruce knows how to throw a party.” The kettle whistled for attention and Leslie called over her shoulder.

“You and Lois certainly know how to cut a rug.”

“You and Alfred were no slouches either, Doctor Thompkins.”

“Clark.”

“Sorry. Leslie.” She returned with twin mugs of tea.

“You Midwestern boys and your politeness. It’s a warm welcome from, GET OUT OF THE WAY OR ALL BLOW YOUR HEAD OFF!”

“Rush hour in Metropolis has its fair share of angry drivers too.”

“It was the Supermarket.” Leslie placed her mug on a coaster and as she handed the other to the former journalist,

“Careful it’s ho—” She remembered,

“Sorry, forgot who I was talking too.” Clark thanked her as he laced the tea in his hands. Leslie situated herself, the coffee table dividing them.

“You don’t take notes?” Clark asked.

“No. I find it too distracting.”

“I wouldn’t X-Ray them if you did.”

“Saves me from buying led lined note pads.” She winked at the farm boy.

“Just a reminder; Nothing is off the table. No emotion is unwarranted. I do have insurance, so if you want to start zapping things, please direct it at the ugly string art my cousin Dorothy got me from Tucson.” Clark spotted it, across the room.

“It must be really, interesting, being the Superheroes’ therapist.”

Leslie laughed.

“Thinking about maybe getting my own costume. But seriously, behind the capes and the superpowers your people too.”

“Even if you come from another planet,” she added.

“Having teenagers, I feel the same way, Usually I would go to my mom or Bruce for advice, but he said you would be a better fit.”

“You and Him became very close,” Leslie observed.

“Almost twenty years. I always hate it when people call us frenemies. Bruce is one of my best friends, he would technically be Jordan’s Godfather, if Me and Lois were the religious type. I wasn’t always thrilled with his choices, especially when he brought Dick into the fight, but the kid turned out great, as did the others.”

“I think it would be fair to say you helped keep the rosy in that boy’s cheeks. You came up with Nightwing didn’t you?” Clark chuckled at the Question.

“Yes, like you said though I just helped. But I have two boys full time and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.” Clark caught the H word. Rarely would he use a damn but it felt honest.

“Once again Clark, you are no different than any parent today. Bruce has definitely not been perfect. But we’re not here to compare the Dark Knight and the Man of Steel, we’re here to talk about you.” Clark took a long sip of hot green, choosing his next words.

“I wasn’t around as much as I should have, with the boys I mean. Between the Planet, Metropolis and the literal planet. I remember missing their seventh birthday. I had to lie and tell them I had to work on a scoop out of town.”

“What were you actually doing?” Leslie asked.

“Stopping a forest fire in California. But let me tell you, the disappointment in their faces was a lot more scorching. Especially Jordan.”

“Jordon is where you’re finding the most contention?”

“Yes and No. I don’t want to minimalize Jonathan. I took him from the only home he knows, he and his girlfriend broke up and theirs a huge possibility he may never have powers. He called Smallville his Kryptonite.”

“And what did you do?”

“I pulled the typical parental platitudes. You tell yourself you’re going to be different from your folks and then you open your mouth…” Leslie nodded.

“And Jordan?”

The former journalist sat back.

“The kid is dealing with social-anxiety, he’s developing powers and there’s no telling what he’s capable of. I feel like I’m making it worse and Jordan confirmed it, loudly.” Leslie pressed on and Clark explained to her about everything, including taking Jordan to the Fortress, how his father made the kid feel inadequate, how he was struggling with the heat vision, the strength, Jonathan’s passive aggressive resentment, not to mention puberty was in the periphery.

“Elsa’s Ice castle?” They both shared a smile.

“I sent him to his room. Standard procedure in our house.”

“No, it’s a good way to diffuse tension. It allows you to compartmentalize and figure your next move. I assume you talked after?”

“Yes. And it was great. I got a smile out of him, until he got mad for something else and it feels like the entire board gets erased.”

“He’s a teenager Clark. Not excusing any rudeness, but I think it’s great you give both your boys a little grace when expressing themselves. Some parents are too quick to jump at the smalless inflection in the voice or movement in the face.”

“My parents were good about those things to. I can lift a submarine, break the sound barrier and kick Kalibak’s backside across Metropolis but Jordan…” He trailed off.

“Jordan doesn’t need to be saved, Clark,” Leslie finished.

“I didn’t say that.”

“But that was where the bus was stopping. When you speak of Jonathan it’s more typical teenager. Having to move, new school, new football team—”

“Jordan’s powers—”

“You keep saying that too. I have a question for you.” Clark nodded.

“Would you have preferred that Jonathan had the powers instead of Jordan?” she caught his hesitation, but waited.

“I don’t have a favorite Leslie.” It came out more forced then intended but the therapists resolve did not waver.

“That’s not what I asked Clark. I’ll rephrase, would it have been better If Jonathan had the powers.” Leslie hit a nerve, no small feat. He wouldn’t look into her eyes, just staring down at the tea bag at the bottom of his mug.

“Jonathan, he has his flaws and like I said I have my short comings with him but, I get him. That sounds horrible. “

“No, it doesn’t Clark. It sounds honest. Keep going.”

“I suck at articulating myself.”

“You’re doing fine. We’ll get every piece in the puzzle in its place.”

“When I told them my secret, Jordon accused me of wanting John to have the powers instead of him. I take responsibility for not considering, it was just the hurt in his eyes, the hurt in both their eyes. Honestly, I was hoping neither of them would have them. These abilities come with a price. I’ve lost a lot along the way. You have enough on your plate in life without putting on a costume.”

“Clark, I can tell you for a fact you don’t have a favorite. You just have a different relationship, no more no less, just different,” Leslie sipped.

“It’s not like Jordan and I have nothing in common. We have the same sense of humor, we share the same favorite flavor of ice cream, both love Stephen King novels, I can go on but the older he got the more separated we got and now we share this huge thing.” Clark paused for a moment. Lesley waited with a saint’s patience.

“I’m not worried Jordan is going to level a town or become a supervillain. Lois has always been his anker when it came to his mental health. She was able to quell every tantrum and talk him through every anxiety attack, I was lucky if I could make it to one of his therapy sessions. His brother even has a better grasp of what’s going on.”

“I’m sure your, well maybe training is not the best word, but coaching him with these abilities?”

“Yes of course, and it’s helped us get closer actually, it’s just…”

“The unpredictability. I’ll repeat Clark, he’s a teenager. They are figuring things as they go along, they aren’t in the eye of the storm, they are the storm, social anxiety, super powers or not. You are capable of such great feats Clark. You can stop a building from burning with your freeze breath and weld the beams of broken bridges with your fire eyes…” Clark nodded while cracking a smile.

“But Jordan is not a burning building, or a broken bridge, not even a cat in a tree. He’s a young man like you once were figuring out his place in the world and good fortune to him has a more developed support system.” Clarks’ brow lifted.

“Don’t get me wrong, your parents were the gold standard. They took a baby and not just any baby, one that fell from the sky and raised him with unconditional love and helped him develop his gifts when they didn’t know what the heck they were doing and when you became a man, they supported you becoming a hero. Your mother made you your first costume. You won a lottery anyone would dream to cash in.” the farm boy shelved his brow, taking in this information as easy as his cup of tea.

“From what you’ve told me, the boys are acclimating to small town life. Jonathan has made new friends and met a new girl and Jordon is coming out of his shell and through his abilities as well. You teaching him it’s actually bringing you two closer together, not further apart. You told me your powers are driven by emotion, that’s something you can relate to with Jordan, that’s your way in and you both can bounce off each other.” Clark was about to respond—

“But what if—”

“Nope. What if Jordan zapped someone on the field? What if Jonathan blew up in that trailer? What ifs are bread and butter to intrusive thoughts and I sympathize with you having them, we all do. My understanding Clark is that a lot of these insecurities you have stem from Kara and not to be to blunt, Loise’s miscarriage.” That caught the Man of Steel off guard but remembered that Lois did talk to Leslie years ago.

“I feel like I abandoned her.”

“You were a young man in his early twenties, finding his place in the world. Not to mention introducing yourself to that world as Superman. No one could expect you to take care of a ten-year-old girl. You gave her to a family that helped her thrive and she has become a remarkable young woman and hero in her own right, regardless of sharing the same crest as her cousin and it wasn’t as if you flew away from her life, you still visited and kept in touch.”

“And Lois?”

“You both went through something that many have gone through. It is horrible and immeasurable painful and though you both may never heal completely from such a loss, you and Lois have been fantastic parents to those boys despite the fact you are not going to always get it right.” This was a lot for Clark to process and he could see the session would soon be up on the clock.

“I know I’ve given you the cliff notes version and this has been a lot for a preliminary consultation, but I promise you if you come see me Clark, with an absolute understanding that you have two lives to juggle, I will help you navigate both sides to the best of my ability.”

“I would really like that Leslie, I’ve never been this open with someone, except for Lois and I keep having these feelings of inadequacy.”

“Clark honey. What you need to learn is acceptance. You see, you’re trying to solve everything with Superman, instead of Clark Kent, the husband and father. You have a secret identity for a reason. Jordon is going to be working with his anxiety for the rest of his life, it isn’t going to go away. You can’t protect him from it, like you protect a civilian from criminals. Same goes for Jonathan.” He nods.

“You think you’re so alone Clark, another thing you and Jordon have in common. The truth is you are going through what so many men, parents, all together human beings have gone through. Trust me, I worked in Arkham. I have had sessions with nuisances like Condiment King all the way down the abyss with that evil fucking clown. I have seen hell in human and it wears a tacky purple suit. You have seen the embodiment of greed and xenophobia and you’ve come out on the other side a better person, but you have to accept that you can’t be invincible all the time and put away the cape when you need to.” Clark wiped his eyes as the clock chimed.

“Now that I’ve talked your ear off. We will schedule are next session during the week and we will continue discussing all of this as much as we need to.” They both stood.

“Thank you, Leslie.” Clark hugged the tiny woman and she hugged just as tight.

The End

#superman and lois #dc comics #tyler hoechlin #paula pell #fanfiction #fanfics #therapy #humor #fluff #whump #supergirl #arrowverse #time jump arc #meshed superman and Lois and Arrowverse #fandom #wrote this before season 2 came out.

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silverwhittlingknife · 2 years

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Dick's struggle with anger (with bonus Tim and Jason)

Dick: But as the truth sank in, I felt a rage growing so great inside me that it felt like I was just a part of the anger, instead of it being part of me. - Secret Origins 13 (kudos to this post)

I love this quote because it's so characteristic: introspective, self-aware, and struggling with being overwhelmed by anger? Dick Grayson all over.

Dick's struggle with anger - and more broadly, his struggle with the strength of his own emotions - is a huge part of his character in the post-Crisis era, especially the early 90s. AFAIK this trait mostly disappeared in the new 52, and I miss it!

So this is a meandering post to spotlight 1) some of post-Crisis Dick's analyses of his own anger, and 2) why I feel like his struggle with his temper was sympathetic and compelling and added depth to his character.

Below the cut, panels from New Titans, Nightwing, BftC, and Batman and Robin and the things that I like about them (with bonus thoughts on how Dick's attitude toward anger compares to Tim's and Jason's):

Dick's anger in New Titans & Nightwing

Okay, so first, I think it's important to remember whenever you're talking about with a character with a temper - Dick doesn't randomly get angry. There's always a reason.

For Dick, anger is part of a powerful emotional response, not a state of being. He lashes out when his loved ones are in danger, or when his feelings are hurt, or when he's feeling guilty and pushing people away, etc. He doesn't just, I dunno, sit around in front of the TV being angry.

Dick's conflicted relationship with his own anger is developed most extensively in New Titans. Here's Dick losing his temper when the Wildebeest Society threatens the lives of the other Titans, paired with his retrospective narration analyzing the moment:

Dick: "You lousy sons - of - bi - I'LL KILL YOU!" I snapped. I tried to be calm, I tried to stay focused - but I couldn't. All I wanted was to rip off his stinking helmet and his head with it. (New Titans 75)

When Dick's mad at himself, he often contrasts himself to Batman. For Dick, Bruce is the calm, dispassionate one, while Dick's driven by strong emotion:

Dick: I...I'm sorry...I'm sorry. I know this isn't your fault. Here I'm attacking you - and you're probably just as scared as I am. I just feel so frustrated. Batman could always remain calm in a crisis. I guess that's just another difference between us. Maybe I'd be better off if I just cut myself off from all feeling like he does. (New Titans 77)

Dick contrasts himself with Batman again here:

Dick: I - I - ahh, dammit. How the hell do people like you and Bruce keep it bottled up inside you? Don't you ever have to cut loose? To let go? If I didn't...I think I'd explode. (New Titans 86)

Dick's "I can't bottle things up the way Bruce does" self-image isn't just in New Titans. It also carries over to his first starring role - in Prodigal as Batman to Tim's Robin.

Here, Dick's struggling not with anger but with agonizing self-blame and guilt - he and Tim have this exchange when he's blaming himself for Two-Face's murders and Tim's trying to reassure him:

Dick: Nearly a dozen dead already and it's just starting. What if I can't stay a step ahead of Dent? How many more are going to die because of me? Tim: You can't think of it like that. Dick: What other way is there to look at it? Two-Face makes the rules. If you don't understand what they are and you make a wrong guess then someone dies. No second chances. No time-outs. Tim: But if you put that kind of pressure on yourself you'll choke. We have to distance ourselves. Dick: The cold light of reason, huh? Distance. Maybe that's what made the real Batman what he is. I never got the hang of that.

Here's a similar, later conversation with Tim when Dick's mad at himself for losing control and trying to beat the Joker to death in Last Laugh. As in Prodigal, Tim's trying to reassure him:

Dick: I thought I was more in control than that. But I lost it. Tim: It was made right, Dick. The Joker is alive and not well in a maximum security cell. Dick: It's not right with me. I never thought I could be a killer. I'm wrong. There's a part of me I never saw before. The rage. I never felt anger like that. I feel like it clawed me up inside. Tim: It's a mistake to pull away like this. You should be with your family this time of year. (Post-Last Laugh: Nightwing 64)

I think it's worth remembering that the reason why this keeps coming up for Dick is because he values control. A character like, say, Lobo doesn't spend his time second-guessing his own anger or comparing himself to more reserved characters - Lobo just gleefully punches things!

By contrast, Dick's big dilemma is that he feels things really intensely - anger, love, guilt - but he thinks it's important to stay detached and controlled ... even though he usually feels like he can't do it or like he's failing at it.

Dick & Tim & anger (Prodigal, Nightwing)

One thing you'll notice about Dick and Tim's conversations above is that they have similar assumptions about "good" behavior: like Dick, Tim values control and distance.

Another similarity is their tendency toward introspection: Tim, too, lives in his head a lot and spends a ton of time analyzing his own behavior. Tim's self-castigating narration is less likely to be about anger - it's more often about his own distance from other people / holding back / keeping secrets / being too much like Bruce - but the inner-monologue-self-analysis is the same.

It's a subtle difference because they're pretty similar, but I also think Tim's a bit more likely to be analyzing himself even as he's doing whatever the problematic thing is, while Dick's more likely to analyze himself after the fact. Tim will sometimes do this sort of split-screen analysis where he's getting emotional but also overthinking his emotions and still obsessing about observing other people at the same time, like here:

Tim: Maybe this will do the trick. Some adrenaline to wash this sick feeling away. Dick’s watching me. Gauging my reactions. He’s not as judgmental as Bruce would be. But he’s keeping an eye on me.

The above is from Prodigal: Tim's frustrated because he had to give in to bullies to preserve his secret identity, Dick wonders if he’s hoping to work out his anger on patrol and Tim admits “I guess I am,” and then Tim spends patrol… kinda trying to work out his frustrations, but also simultaneously watching himself react and analyzing Dick watching him react.

OTOH, Dick's a bit more likely to get swept up in overpowering emotion, and then later calm down and start unsparingly analyzing his own behavior.

So for example, here's Dick upset with Bruce, losing his temper, impulsively punching something...and then immediately afterward cooling down, analyzing the rage and castigating himself for it:

Bruce is playing martyr. Keeping us at a distance. [...] Why does it have to be this way with us? WHY? Uncontrollable rage. The same rage I felt when I killed the Joker. Thought I had it under control. (Bruce Wayne: Murderer? : Nightwing 65)

(Dick and Tim also sometimes get uncomplicatedly mad when their friends are annoying them or when Bruce is being difficult, but this post is probably long enough. Anyway, though there are exceptions, in general, they're both people who prioritize control.)

Dick & Jason & anger (BftC, B&R)

By contrast, you won't see post-Crisis Jason having critical inner monologues about his own anger because Jason doesn't see righteous anger as bad. In UtRH, he thinks that Bruce can't have really cared about him because he didn't go after the Joker (tragically, unbeknownst to Jason, Bruce did lash out a lot after Jason's death - but Jason doesn't know this). For Jason, giving in to your emotions is a good thing.

This is IMO a factor in Jason's fights with Dick as well as with Bruce - Jason's constantly taunting Dick, trying to get him to lose control (and show what Jason sees as his more admirable/genuine angry side), while Dick's trying to stay controlled.

For example, here's Dick's inner monologue in their Battle for the Cowl fight:

Dick: Nothing Jason says can be taken for truth. He says Tim is dead. I'll need more proof than his word and an empty cowl. Because right now, I need to keep that hope alive. If for nothing else, then to keep me from losing control...and I won't let that happen. Can't let that happen. Can't.

And here's Jason's take on Dick from Batman and Robin 25:

Jason: Dick is different from Bruce. In the way he fights. In the way he thinks. And the way he feels. And he gets angry. Really angry. That anger, it'd make him a great Batman, if he'd let it. But he won't. He's trying too much to be like him. The good son. Man, I hate him.

I have some complaints about this arc, but I really love this voiceover because of the cool multiple-perspectives aspect. Here, Jason's describing Dick-and-his-anger (and Dick's attempts to be more controlled, like Bruce) in terms similar to how Dick thinks of himself. But where Dick sees his anger as a flaw to overcome, Jason sees it as a good quality that he resents Dick for repressing.

Something else I like: because Jason values righteous anger and thinks Dick should too, he assumes that Dick's only repressing his anger out of an attempt to impress Bruce - to be "the good son" - not realizing that Dick might value control on his own behalf. After all, Robin!Jason and Bruce argued about control, and Jason resented Bruce's restraint as being callous and uncaring in the face of injustice. So Jason's (understandably!) projecting his own relationship with Bruce onto Dick's relationship with Bruce.

But contra Jason's assumptions, even though Dick sometimes waxes in admiration of Bruce's calm... in practice, Dick's more likely to be the one insisting Bruce control himself, not the other way round. In Lonely Place of Dying (and the comics immediately prior to it), for example, the whole point of Dick and Tim's intervention is that Bruce is too emotional and needs to get himself under control.

So Jason isn't reading Dick quite correctly, but his analysis makes sense given his own experience and values.

Final thoughts on Dick

Let's pause to admire the consistency of Dick's characterization here, because the panels I've grabbed span two decades of post-Crisis comics!

1991-92: New Titans 75-86 1994-95: Prodigal 2001-02: Last Laugh (Nightwing 64) 2009: Battle for the Cowl 2011: Batman and Robin 25

A final note - for me, Dick's attitude toward his anger is as important a part of his characterization as the anger itself. It's true that you can find plenty of panels, especially in the early 90s days, where Dick's just unselfconsciously snappish - he's only human, and when he's under stress, sometimes he gets grumpy.

But there are also lots of panels like these ones where you can see that Dick's self-aware and actively fighting his anger - even when he's got every reason to be angry. And that struggle is all wrapped up in Dick's uneasy relationship with his own emotions. Dick cares a lot about control, which is why he's so hyperaware of the times when he loses it.

Look, I just think he's neat <3

#dick grayson #tim drake #jason todd #meandering thoughts on other characters:#i may be misremembering but i'm pretty sure cass doesn't have the same hangups about anger #obviously everyone gets angry sometimes but cass seems more focused on 1) am i forgivable and 2) am i perfect/impressive enough #she's keenly focused on e.g. becoming as good a fighter as shiva #and when she goes too far and is afraid she's hurt someone she's *really upset and guilty* about it #but i don't remember her channeling grief etc. into anger the way that dick / jason / tim all sometimes do?#she just *feels* her emotions and acts on them #meanwhile damian's an interesting case bc in many comics he doesn't have a voiceover #so we can only analyze his behavior from the outside & invent what we think is going on in his head #also damian's characterization is really all over the map depending on where in post-crisis / where in nu52 / rebirth #but i like to think of him as having been taught to value control but by assassins so it's mixed up with violence in his head #(so e.g. in R:SoB #i see damian as very empathetic so he's got this fierce instinctive *sense* that hurting ravi / hurting the bat is wrong #but he's taught himself to override it #so later when he's reformed it's not that he wasn't upset before - so much as that he didn't let himself *acknowledge* those feelings)#but more broadly i tend to see damian as driven by fear/anxiety that just often *looks* like anger #or even performing anger because it's an Acceptable Way to express hurt/scared feelings for example in his first appearance #when he keeps shouting at everyone & complaining about everything #but then he turns out to be secretly desperate to impress bruce & just going about it in a Truly Misguided Manner #also ofc he's ten so often he's just emotional and impulsive because...he's ten

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seekingxanadu · 2 years

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It is funny how many people think that Jason Todd is anywhere closer to Dick's expertise as a martial artist or fighter. I keep seeing people mention "Jason was trained by multiple teachers". So? Bruce was trained by multiple teachers and Bruce is not Dick's equal in fighting. Amongst the Gotham vigilantes, Cassandra and Dick are much better than Bruce. Interestingly, both Dick and Cassandra had one defining teacher.

Dick at 8 was a prodigy in a field that requires peak physicality and great mental strength. Dick was the perfect canvas to paint Bruce's greatest pupil. Jason didn't have time with Bruce, Bruce didn't have time for Tim so he sent him to Dick and later packed him off on a 6 months world tour.

In contrast, Dick had stability in training. There was a single thread through all his lessons. Be The Best Detective. Keep probing. Find the answers. Watching Dick's fight panels are a delight. Beyond the aesthetics of his clean movements, it is the way he asks questions from his opponent. What are you? What makes you? The dissection of motive. The hunting of chinks. Where do you hurt? Watching Dick work with Rose as he guided her towards an understanding of who her father was? Beautiful.

I don't even want to address the idea that Jason would win against Dick due to him having more weight and muscle. NO WAY could Bruce ever lose to Cassandra then 😂 Or to Sandra Wusan. Or Jade Nguyen. It is an unconscious (I hope!) gendered viewpoint, I can't even -

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marilynmonroefanfics · 4 years

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Being Bruce Wayne's husband...

You probably met Bruce at a gala, he instantly fell in love with you the moment he saw you.

Your sweet, shy, innocent and kind personality contrastes his strong and mysterious one.

You two got along well.

Well actually, you two spoke for about 2 minutes.

You were presented by one of Bruce's "acquaintances", (probably a person who wanted to make a deal wirh Bruce.)

You cut the meeting short, because let's face it, Bruce comes off as a pretty powerful and intimidating man.

"I'm Bruce Wayne."

"I'm Y/N L/N."

That was it, then you just excused yourself and left.

Bruce made sure you were always within his eyesight.

You had a magical and different feeling to you, Bruce just couldn't put his finger on it.

You distract him, but in a good way

Of course he won't show it.

At some point in the event, a man was being very touchy with you and was invading your personal space.

Bruce knew that was his chance.

Not just to save you, but to impress you.

"Are you alright Y/N?"

"I am now Bruce, thank you for asking."

Bruce asked you for a dance, which you gladly accepted.

After all Bruce saved you from a very annoying situation, it was the least you could do.

All the ladies were jealous of you, they were trying to get Bruce's attention and you achieved that without even trying.

Everyone watched closely has you and Bruce danced, it looked like a scene from a movie.

Bruce had one hand intertwined with yours and the other was firmly around your waist bringing you closer to his is body.

He is TALL, so you had to look up.

He wore a smirk on his lips, his piercing eyes looking down at yours.

After the dance he brought your hands up to his lips and kissed them.

His rough lips felt oddly satisfying on your delicate skin.

You blushed and after the dance you left, you were embarrassed.

Bruce thought he would never see you again.

When he got to the manor, he immediately went to the Batcomputer, searching for your information.

He was slightly teased by Dick.

"Is the Bat finally in love?"

Weeks passed and Bruce couldn't take your beautiful face out of his mind.

He bumped into you in the busy streets of Gotham.

"Y/N?"

He didn't think twice and asked you to a date.

You were a bit taken back by his action.

But you agreed, you had a bit of a crush on him.

He took you to a fancy restaurant.

Bruce insisted to pay for everything.

You felt a little bad, but you allowed him.

"If you insist, I guess you can pay."

You talked about a little bit of everything and Bruce showed great interest in what you had to say.

He asked you a lot of questions.

You were the first person that he really was interested in.

He wanted to know everything about about you, every little detail.

After the dinner he took you home.

"Y/N, can I kiss you?"

When his lips touched yours it was like fireworks had exploded.

Your plump lips were the softest he had ever kissed.

The kiss was delicate and sweet.

Bruce was in heaven.

For the next months he took you on several dates.

Eventually you started dating.

He would buy you a lot of presents.

From flowers to expensive jewelry.

When he introduced you as his boyfriend to his family, Dick almost had a heart attack.

You were perfect for Bruce.

Your sweet and kind personality was what he needed.

When you went to live with Bruce's family, Dick was in love with you.

He saw you as a motherly figure.

Jason at first was a bit annoyed but he warmed up to you eventually.

At first he called you mother just to tease you.

"My father Bruce and my mother Y/N."

But then he liked it and would call you mother on a daily basis.

"Mother, could you get me that?"

Tim was like Dick, he enjoyed the peaceful environment you brought to the manor.

He needed it, they all did.

Even Alfred.

Oh boy, now we get to the hardest one.

Damian Wayne.

He saw you as competition to his mother.

He tried to kill you several times and was impressed by your attitude towards his actions

You wouldn't treat him badly, instead you showered him with love and affection.

But he gained respect for you when you defended him from Talia.

She tried to take him and have him join the League of Assassins.

"I've returned my beloved."

You were like "Hell no bitch, take your hands out of my son."

Even Bruce was surprised by your determination and slightly turned on.

Now Damian will legit fight someone who dares to talk shit about you.

When you got married the media was on fire, you were the most talked couple in the USA.

"Bruce Wayne married, to a men!"

You thought Bruce spent to much money with you when you were dating?

Well be prepared to be SPOILED.

"Y/N, give me my wallet back, I need to spoil you."

Bruce made sure your honeymoon was unforgettable.

You're insacure about your body? Don't worry Bruce loves you, it doesn't matter what type your body is.

Be prepared for hours of endless passion.

Bruce loves you so much.

You're his one and only.

You're his Prince.

You're Y/N Wayne and he loves you.

#x male reader #Bruce Wayne #Bruce Wayne x reader #Bruce Wayne x male reader #Dick Grayson #Jason Todd #Damian Wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #Justice League #Batman #Batman x male reader #Headcanons #Headcanons x male reader #Tim Drake #male reader

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ereawrites · 4 years

Text

Dick Grayson x Reader - Mania

this was requested by: anon

word count: 10.5k / rating explicit

a/n: sex pollen so auto dubcon (?), but both reader and dick are affected so idk

taglist: @daddyissuesmademe @idkmanicantenglish

It's your fault, really. You should never have got involved in the first place, but the temptation was just too great to resist. How could you pass up the opportunity to investigate Poison Ivy's pollen? This was the first decent sample any of you had ever managed to get - even Bruce, though you suspect there have been a few times he's managed to get up close and personal with the pollen - and normally Tim would handle it, but he's away on business with Bruce, and Damian's too young to deal with intensive research, and Jason just can't bring himself to care. So, that left Dick, and you could've left it at that. You should have. Then again, Tim did text you to recommend that you helped Dick: actually, you would never have left your room if it hadn't been for his intervention. It's Tim's fault.

The thing is, everything was fine at first; you've, perhaps, been harbouring the slightest crush on Dick for a while now, and it's always nice to spend time with him. He's fun to be around, even if his classic charm sometimes borders on teasing flirtation, and he's got such an incredible mind. You forget that, at times - he has a bad habit of putting himself down as the 'kind one' of the family, the emotional support or the comic relief, and he forgets to let himself be brilliant, too. He doesn't realise you've noticed that. Or maybe he does, but he doesn't say anything, and you've happily spent the past two hours studying Ivy's pollen together.

"It's definitely pheromonal, but I've never seen a chemical composition like this before-", you say, eyes glued to the computer screen. Dick is leaning over the back of your chair, one hand on your shoulder and one hand on the desk beside you, and you shouldn't feel as tense as you do. "-look, this section doesn't occur naturally in any species we've seen. She's synthesising these pheromones somehow, it's not like she's injecting them, but I just - I don't get how."

He pushes off from the desk, grabs the back of your chair, and spins you to face him with a half-smile. "I hate to break your train of thought, but I think we need a biochem specialist.", he says, and you suddenly notice how tired he looks: his eyes are still vibrant, warm, but exhausted. "We've done as much as we can on this, right? No shame in calling in the big guns."

"Tim?", you reply, knowingly, relishing in the way Dick's smile grows into a full grin. He's still gripping the edges of your chair, effectively caging you in: you are not looking at his arms, and you can be certain of this because you are looking very, very intently at his face.

"Having a genius brother has its perks, I know. I'll call him now. It's late in Tokyo - he won't be in a meeting, he'll probably just be awake in his hotel room, tapping away at his laptop.", Dick says, finally moving away to fetch his phone, and his voice trails off into a mumble that he clearly doesn't mean for you to hear. "God, he worries me. He really does."

It's much too warm in here: you sigh, and shrug off your jacket, slinging it over the back of the computer chair before calling out,"You're such a mother hen sometimes, Dick."

"I care. Sue me.", he replies with a faux scowl. "You don't complain when you're ill and I bring you hot soup."

"You're a good cook, what can I say?"

"Husband material!", he chirps. You feel your stomach leap and your cheeks heat up at his words. He's only teasing, but the truth of it is, it has more effect on you than you would like to admit. Thankfully, he's quickly distracted by the crackle of Tim picking up the phone. "Timmy! How's things?"

Tim's voice is dry, as always, but with a noticeable undercurrent of frustration. "Shit. I hate it here."

"Hey, Tim. Bad day?", you say with sympathy. You feel a little bad for bothering him, now; as hard as everyone in the family works, Tim definitely pushes himself the hardest.

"I'm the youngest person here by at least twenty years, and my stomach can't handle sushi. Plus, Bruce gets separation anxiety from the rest of you. The one upside is that I've been able to practice my Japanese.", Tim replies. You feel bad for him, of course, but the image of him having to comfort a homesick Bruce has you suppressing a snicker.

Dick shoots an amused smile at you - he's too beautiful when he smiles, it isn't fair - that starkly contrasts the comforting tone he uses to respond to Tim. "Don't worry, darling brother - I've got something exciting for you! Check your emails - wait, only the most recent one, though, I sent you a link to a Red Hood fanpage-"

You interject with an accusatory wave of your finger. "Why the fuck didn't you send me that? Red Hood is sexy." If Jason were here, he would probably threaten to shoot you, but as it is, Dick's amusement only grows. His smile is so infectious, like it spirals out into the air and right into your chest, and you can't help but smile back at him. You don't know if it's the warmth of the room or simply from Dick himself, but you feel as though you're going to need to step outside for some fresh air soon.

"Because of your raging crush on Nightwing, probably." Tim cuts in, and you could fucking kill him. Dick gives you a pleased wink. "I'm looking at a pheromonal compound, right? Ivy's special formula?"

You muster as much venom into your voice as you can, without pissing Tim off so much that he leaves you to deal with this on your own. "Fuck you, Tim - and yeah. It's a newer version, though - I think she's evolving, if that makes sense? Her physiology is definitely changing." Tim gives a thoughtful hum in response to your words: you imagine it's in agreement.

Dick continues your train of thought. "We think she's working with someone else, or she's been experimenting on herself, maybe. Do you have any ideas about how she's making the new chemicals?"

"I'll need a few hours. Send me all the data over. You're right about it evolving, though - it's definitely airborne. Shit, this is actually really interesting - the molecules are more compact, smaller, so she doesn't need to rely on physical touch through her plants anymore-"

The rest of Tim's words are lost to a wave of horror. Airborne, he said - you'd doubt it if it wasn't for the similar shock that's written over Dick's face - and you have not been treating this sample as airborne. Ivy has always relied on physical, tangible contact to use her chemicals: you couldn't have known, there was no way you could've known, neither of you are experts on this kind of thing - you've fucked up.

"Airborne? How... airborne are we talking? Like, don't-sniff-the-test-tube?", Dick asks, cautiously, maintaining eye contact with you all the while. *Please, God, let it be don't-sniff-the-test-tube and nothing more than that. Please.*

"Shit, you haven't been wearing respirators - have you?". Tim sounds positively horrified. It does nothing to allay your fears, the worries that you've both been infected with Ivy's pollen; in fact, he all but confirms it. Everything is beginning to fall into place now. The tension around Dick - more so than usual, at least -, how warm you're feeling, the mental sluggishness that had you calling Tim in the first place.

You're angry at yourself, for your own stupidity - not Tim, but you're panicked, you're so unbelievably freaked out, and so you can't help but snap at the phone. "How were we meant to know, man? Ivy's never even hinted at having something of this level before!"

"You're working with chemicals, unknown chemicals, I hate-"

Dick cuts in before this can turn into a full-on confrontation. You've got no idea how he's managing to keep a level head. Perhaps the pheromones are already taking a more severe effect, or maybe it's a placebo effect, and you pray that it is, but you can already feel your heart beginning to pound against the confines of your chest. "It's just pheromones, right? We know it's not toxic, at least - Ivy's victims only take a few days to come around, at most. They're just kinda fucked up for a few days."

You admire Dick so, so much. He's right, he's always right, he always manages to keep you calm and make you feel safe: you'll just have to stay with him, and you'll be okay. If you stay here, he can comfort you, and maybe the impacts of the pollen won't even be that bad. And, if they are, well, there's no one else in the manor tonight, and Dick's so handsome and kind and strong, and maybe he'll - fuck.

Tim snickers. "Fucked, indeed. Only when Ivy's in a good mood, though. You guys better get ready for a tough night. I've heard it can get really bad, especially if you're deprived of - oh, fuck, I can't talk about this, this is too funny but it's so weird, oh my god-", and he dissolves into a fit of awkward, stunted laughter. Dick fixes you with an apologetic look, but you swear his golden cheeks are tinged with red.

"How long until it kicks in?", he asks. It's a stupid, stupid question, because you feel like you're close to dying already. You know what he means, though: when will it get bad? You've seen Ivy's victims before. They're entirely without dignity, practically begging to be touched, sobbing from the pain of it all - and you've only heard rumours about the depraved things they let Ivy do to them. What they ask her to do to them.

The huff of Tim's breath crackles through the phone. "Uh - I don't know, maybe an hour? A little less, since Bruce never opens the windows in there. Just seal the sample up, drink plenty of water, and try not to freak out. It'll pass. You won't die."

///

You thought you could do it - stay in your room, deal with this alone, avoid any potential awkwardness with Dick -but you can't. It's barely been an hour. Sixty-seven minutes since you left the cave, to be exact. Sixty-seven minutes since Dick grabbed you by the waist to halt your speedy departure, touch light but insistent, and said if you need anything, come to me. His eyes were dark when he said it. Deep, dark blue, an ocean that you could get lost swimming in; but pupils already dilating, breath already speeding up. He meant it as nothing more than a kindness. Still, though, that hasn't been enough to stop you from coming onto your fingers with the image of those eyes burned onto the backs of your eyelids.

Ivy's pollen is designed to induce lust, yes, but only for the first person you see after you're infected with it. This means two things: firstly, that you need Dick more than anything right now. Your head is pounding, your lungs feel like they're on fire - the sensation between your legs isn't aching, it's agony, and you've spent fifty-two of the past sixty-seven minutes trying, and failing, to fool your body into believing that your fingers are his. The first thing you know, is that you need him, because you saw him right after you were infected. The second thing you know - there was no one else in that room. You were the only person Dick could have seen.

So, stupidly, you seek him out. You go back down to the cave, without even taking the time to wash your hands, because that's what your body is telling you to do, and you're acting more and more on instinct. Potential awkwardness be damned. He'll fix this.

Dick's facing away from you, reclined in the computer chair: his posture seems almost relaxed, just almost, legs sprawled out and left elbow visibly sticking out from around the back of the chair, like he's got one hand close to his head. You'd assume he was still looking at the computer, if you weren't so hyperaware of everything right now, but you are, and you notice more. From what you can see of his body - it's low-blue-lit from the computer screen, enough that you can make out the muscle of his legs through his sweatpants if you squint, but it's not enough, you need to see more - he seems tense. Too tense. Normally, you'd sneak closer, but your head is practically spinning now and Dick will help you. He'll make this better. Your voice is hoarse and dry when you manage to call his name.

He immediately jolts in his seat, spinning to face you, and now that he's backlit by the computer, you can barely see more than the outline of his body. God, he looks so lean, so tall - "Are you okay?", he asks, and he sounds almost as bad as you feel. You swallow thickly before responding - and, through the fog in your head, you realise that your jacket is clutched in his left hand.

You, miraculously, manage a weak smile. "I just - I thought maybe it would, you know, be better to... be together, during this. In case - if one of us needs help, or something. I don't know.". You sound stupid. Dumb. You feel it, too, and you can't even bring yourself to care. The mere sight of him is helping: it doesn't remove the pain, or any of the physical sensations, really, but at least the panic of not being near him is being soothed.

"That's - yeah, okay. How are you feeling?", Dick replies. His voice is barely more than a whisper, but you hear it as clear as if he were right up against you. Chest pressed to your back, lips on the curve of your jaw, that voice going right through you and into the pits of your stomach.

It's wrong, to think of him like this, when all he's doing is trying to check that you're alright. He knows you aren't, but he's trying.

The best thing you can think to do is make a weak attempt at a joke. "I've got a newfound fear of Ivy." Dick even huffs out a laugh, but it's just as half-hearted as your words. "I didn't think it was going to be this bad at first, Jesus - but it keeps getting worse, and, it just-"

"-it hurts. I know.". Dick nods. As you take a step closer to him, you realise that your eyes have finally adjusted to the relative darkness of the cave, and you realise that you can see his cock straining against his sweatpants. He's hard. What's more, there's a distinct wet patch leaking through the material.

When you entered the cave, you couldn't see one of his hands; the chair wasn't moving enough for him to be stroking himself, and you're not sure whether you're glad he wasn't, but now that you think of it, there was definite movement. Like he was palming himself through his sweatpants, maybe. And the hand that was close to his head, it's clutching your jacket, he was holding your jacket close to his face while he-

"Dick - were you...?"

He sighs, halfway between embarrassed and resigned, and sinks back down into the computer chair. He keeps your jacket clenched in a white-knuckle grip. "I had to take the edge off somehow, right? I'm sorry, I didn't think you would be coming back down here, I never meant to make you uncomfortable or anything-"

"I'm not uncomfortable.", you blurt out before you know what you're saying. Dick's expression visibly shifts - you don't have the mental clarity to figure out into what, exactly - but you can feel your own eyes widen as you process the implications of what you just said. "Oh, fuck - I didn't mean it like that, I - sorry."

Dick just shakes his head. He must mean for you not to worry. You stand in silence for a while, not exactly awkward but certainly thick with tension, before he pats a hand onto the desk beside him. "God, this is worse than I thought. Do you wanna come sit down?"

Do you? Although being closer to Dick sounds like the only thing you want in the world right now - god, you can't help but think about how good he would look, if you were close enough to really study him, now that you're beyond giving a fuck about etiquette - you're also acutely aware of how difficult it'll be to control yourself. Undeniably, you want him. You've wanted him for months, really - but the pollen has taken that desire and multiplied it tenfold, made it so that it's all-consuming and painful. In your room, nothing more than imagining him, it was bad enough. Now, now that you can see his fucking cock, now that the image of him rubbing himself with a blissed-out look on his face, it's almost impossible to control.

You move to sit next to him. You can't help yourself. Once you start moving, you feel like it's all in slow-motion: Dick's watching you, dark eyes trained so closely on your form, and you're wearing nothing more than a tight-fitting pair of leggings and a thin t-shirt. After what feels like an age - too long to be apart from him - you reach the desk, and upon clumsily perching yourself on it, you see Dick looking as though he's about to pass out.

"Fuck, did I - did I do something wrong? I'm sorry-", you say hastily, but he instantly shakes his head and trains his eyes on yours. The blue is nearly gone. It's all blown-out pupils now, so much that his eyes are nearly black.

He licks his lips as if to wet them. "-no, no, but - when you were in your room - when you were alone - did you do anything to take the edge off? Did you touch yourself?"

You could say no, if you wanted to. You could lie. He would know, but he wouldn't press it, and you could save yourself the shame. For all that Dick must be struggling just as much as you are, he's exceedingly kind, so much that no amount of fucked-up drugs could change that: he's still your Dick, underneath all of this.

"Yeah.", you admit after a heartbeat, and your stomach lurches when you see his cock twitch through the sweatpants. Still, you're embarrassed, and you feel the need to explain yourself just a little. "It felt like my skin was on fire unless I did. It still feels like that, though - like it just wasn't enough, I guess."

"I can smell it on you.", Dick says lowly. Oh, God. That's hot. That's so, unbelievably hot - especially when you see his cock twitch again - but absolutely mortifying. You're torn between wanting to jump on him, right here and now, and retreating back to your room. You compromise by burying your face in your hands, and letting out a pathetic whine to signal how fucked-up you are right now. Maybe you can calm down, now that you don't feel on the verge of a panic attack from being away from him, if you take a few deep breaths.

Naturally, Dick hardly gives you the chance. You feel his hand come to rest on your knee out of nowhere; it's a gentle touch, but you can feel him trembling, and the touch sends a bolt of electricity through you that's strong enough to make you jolt. "I want to help you. The whole point of these pheromones is to make it so that you need touch - it only hurts because we're not getting that. So, I can-", he says raspily, punctuating the pause with a reassuring squeeze to your lower thigh, "-touch you, just... platonically, if that's what you want. What you need."

His voice drops down an octave with the last sentence - you whine again, involuntarily, but you just about manage to turn the sound into words.

"Dick, you don't have to - we can just push through this, I know it'll be uncomfortable for you - I mean, I know it's not like we haven't hugged and stuff before, but this is different, I don't want you to feel forced because you feel bad for me."

Dick must lean forward, closer to you, because his palm slides further up your thigh. The pain that prickles insistently under your skin is beginning to turn into fiery heat: not unpleasant, but desperate, hot, and you're starting to feel like you're not going to be able to stop if he asks you to touch him. "I don't feel bad for you.", he insists, reaching up with his free hand to peel your hands away from your eyes. He curls his fingers around yours as he continues. "I just want to make you feel better - both of us feel better. See, it's already helping, right? Just relax. This is bad enough as it is."

His thumb starts to trace circles on the inside of your thigh. It's nowhere near high enough to be considered sexual, but the movement has your legs almost trembling. You wonder if he can feel the tension of your muscles. "It's... it doesn't hurt anymore. Thank you.". And, technically, you're not lying: it doesn't hurt, in fact it feels fucking incredible. You spent fifty-two minutes trying to replicate this sensation. He's only touching your thigh, it has no business feeling this good, but each little beat of his thumb has waves of pleasure crashing through you. God, how good would it feel to fuck him like this? You're shaking, and you know it, and it only makes him tug you by the hand to stand up.

Even the loss of his touch on your thigh feels devastating, but Dick's next words are more comfort than you could have imagined possible. "Here. Come sit, if you want.", he says - whispering again, voice so low and so deep, but it's just the effects of the pollen, you tell yourself - and gestures to his thigh. "You can lean back into me, don't worry, it'll be better for your back."

This has to feel as good for him as it does for you. Logically, it has to. You've both breathed in the same pollen, his skin has the same sheen of sweat that you can feel on your own skin, you're both trembling in every part of your body, and he's still rock hard. You can feel yourself leaking, god, enough that it might have dampened your leggings and left a wet spot on the desk. What would Dick do, if he saw that? He's clearly turned on, but maybe he still has the good sense to avoid fucking: maybe his view of you as 'just platonic' is so deeply ingrained, he would never touch you down there to feel how wet he's made you. Or, maybe he wants you like you want him.

"Are - are you sure?", you stammer. You can't stop looking at his lap. His cock, painfully obvious (and he mustn't care, because he blatantly drew your attention to it), and the corded muscle of his thighs, spread out straight to form you a perch.

"Mhmm...", he hums from somewhere deep in his chest, and suddenly you're grateful that he's still holding your hand, because the sound almost makes your knees buckle. He tugs gently. "Only if you want to be close to me, though."

He says that like an afterthought - like he knows exactly what you want, and like he's hungry for your touch and doesn't want to consider the idea that you don't want to give him it. You can't bring yourself to look at him before you move to sit in his lap, because you know he'll see the desire, and for now, you're still pretending that you don't want to push him down in that chair and ride him for hours. He'd like that, you think. He'd like it if you pulled his hair while you did it.

Dick lets go of your hand so he can take your waist in both hands, guiding you down onto his lap and gripping harder when your ass inadvertently brushes over his cock. You don't mean to do it, of course, and you jump like you've been shocked: you shuffle further down his thigh to avoid another mishap, but the movement causes your pussy to just barely drag against the hard muscle - you hardly manage to control your moan, forced to sink your teeth into your lip. Thankfully, Dick doesn't seem to notice, and he helps you lean back so his chest is pressed to your back, before lifting his arms to rest on the armrests. From here, he begins to rub soothing lines up and down your arms, and he tips his cheek down to rest against your shoulder with a relieved sigh.

"Fuck, that... yeah, that feels better.", you practically gasp. Feeling him pressed up against the entire length of your body, as torturous as it is, is the most relief you've gained all evening; his legs are shaking just enough that you can feel it in your core, though, and you're forced to tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder. You'll lose your fucking mind if you don't start to relax, he's right.

With your neck exposed, though, you can feel Dick's hot breath tickling your skin when he speaks. "Good, right? It feels good?". For the first time, you really hear the tension in his voice. So much so that you can't pass it off as your own projections, or a trick of his tone - he's just as desperate as you are, holy shit, he sounds halfway to begging, he sounds like he's dying to know that his touch is making you feel good. Your hips twitch of their own accord.

"Yeah... Dick?", you whisper after a few moments. He nods in response against your shoulder, a slow, dragging movement that feels like honey dripping through your veins from the point of contact. "Are you really warm, too, or like - is that just me? I - I feel like I'm burning up... Do you mind if I..." - you trail off, instead opting to tug cautiously at the hem of your shirt.

He sucks in a deep, rapid breath that you feel press against your back. For a moment, you worry that you've gone too far - it feels so good, but it's too weird, too strange for him even now - but then he slowly curls his fingers around the hem, replacing your own hands, and starts to pull upwards at a torturous pace. His knuckles drag over your lower abdomen for just a second and your hips twitch again, and he definitely felt it this time but he says nothing, and his breathing is warm and fast against the skin of your neck; with the shirt discarded, you're left in nothing more than a thin bra. Although the room feels warm, furnace-hot, you're all too aware of the blatant hardness of your nipples, and you tell yourself it's okay, he won't notice, because you're facing away and he won't - his palm drags against your breast on the way back down and it feels so good, too good, and you can't help but whimper, "Fuck, yes-"

Three things happen in quick succession. Dick freezes, you realise what you've done and move to jump up and run for the hills, and then Dick grabs your hips and pulls you back into him, right over his cock, this time. The friction makes both of you let out a breathy sigh, but where you clap a hand over your mouth, Dick follows it up with a hoarse proposition. "I can touch you properly, if you want. It'll make all this go away, I promise - do you want me to?", he rasps, pressing one, quick kiss to the skin where your neck meets your shoulder. "Do you want me to touch you?"

His grasp on your hips is tight, wanting, but gentle enough that you know he wouldn't stop you if you tried to leave again. When you make no move to do so - you're frozen, you can't believe he's just offered to do what your body is screaming for - Dick pulls at your hips, slowly, dragging your ass over his cock and then pushing you back down. He repeats the motion a few times, rolling his own hips up into you a little more with each motion, and soon your muscles start to work so you can grind down onto him. Dick rewards you with a quiet moan - oh, you want him to do that again, you're going to make him do that again, louder and louder - and then, with a touch so light you could cry, he traces one hand over your hipbones and down to your pussy.

One finger traces your slit through your leggings, and you hear yourself moan, but you're hardly aware of making the noise - just this simple touch feels almost as good as the orgasm you had earlier, even just this feather-light pressure through two layers of fabric, and every nerve ending in your body sets alight at once. This is what you needed, more than anything, for Dick to touch you and drag you down onto his cock, and you're so overwhelmed that every muscle in your body goes lax, leaving you to collapse into his chest.

Dick rubs gently at your pussy a few more times, like he's exploring you, and then suddenly he taps right where your clit is. You cry out, and he sighs against your neck. "God, I can feel how wet you are already. You should have told me, I would've done something sooner, you know that - fuck, you're so wet, let me - let me finger you, huh? Please?"

"Yeah - please, Dick.", you whine, and when you say his name, he moans and shoves his cock up against you again. He mumbles something into your skin that you don't quite make out, and then his hand is fumbling with your waistband, clumsily slipping into your underwear and then he's there, his fingers are brushing right against your clit, you sob out a broken cry - you're so wet that his fingers brush right through your folds, gliding like silk, and by the time he reaches your hole, two fingers easily sink in right to the knuckle.

Your pussy instantly clenches down, hard, and you feel more full than you thought could be possible. Dick moans into the skin of your neck and gives you a moment to calm down, to soothe the desperate jolting of your hips, before he starts to pump his fingers; slowly, at first, but soon picking up into a faster and more urgent pace. With each movement, he scissors his fingers a little, spreading you wider every time, and he starts to mouth at your neck with hot, wet kisses. "Do you like that, yeah? Am I making you feel good? Is this what you need?"

You fling an arm behind you to grasp at his hair, and when you tug after a particularly delicious curl of his fingers, he bites down hard onto your shoulder. "Fuck, yes, yes - please don't stop, please, Dick, don't stop-"

"I'm not going to stop, don't worry, I've got you - I'm here, I'm not gonna stop, you sound too pretty for me to stop, fuck - I knew you would sound pretty, keep making those noises for me."

Your body feels like it's going through the most intense orgasm of your life, especially now that he's given up on pumping his fingers in favour of curling them in rapid beats against your g-spot, but you know that you're not even coming yet: you're close, though, judging by the way the room is spinning around you, and the pressure building in the pit of your stomach - "I think I'm close, Dick, - oh, oh, oh my god, I don't - it's never felt like this before, I don't - fuck-"

"I know, I know, baby-", he croons, and the pet name has you tugging at his hair again, the other hand white-knuckled on the armrest, "-it's okay, it's gonna feel different - it's gonna feel better, I promise, it's going to be so good, I'm going to get you there, baby, come on."

"Fuck - fucking - Jesus, Dick, keep going, just like that-!", you all but shout, and Dick continues the massaging movement right up on your g-spot: the positioning of his hand means the heel of his palm is dragging over your clit, and your hips are frantically grinding up into his hand - god, you're gonna come, the world feels like it's crashing down around you, you feel the contractions start a few seconds before it actually hits you and it's going to be earth-shattering, you know it, every muscle in your body tenses up and through it all you hear Dick whispering, come on, that's it, I've got you, come on, come on, and then you're coming-

Distantly, you can feel his fingers continue their movements inside of you, unrelenting - and the other hand keeps a firm grip on your hips, grounding you onto his lap - but other than that, all you know is the white-flash across your vision and the pleasure slamming into each nerve in your body, one by one and then all at once: this is better than anything you've ever felt, better than every orgasm put together, and it feels feels for a moment like you're actually going to black out from the sheer intensity of the pleasure.

Then, suddenly, you're back in reality. Dick is heaving for breath against your shoulder, but it's nothing compared to the way your own lungs are screaming for air - god, you think you were screaming, given the scratching sensation in your throat - and his fingers are back to a slow, steady pumping, in and out of your swollen pussy. It hurts, a little, but this one orgasm has done nothing to sate your desperate hunger: in fact, it's only made it worse, only increased your desire for him, and you swear his cock is impossibly harder against your ass now.

"You - you're dripping onto my hand, baby, oh my god...", Dick pants, and there's a heartbeat where neither of you move - then, you feel his breath hitch, and suddenly his other hand is shoving unceremoniously under your waistband and going straight for your clit. He picks up the pace with the two fingers still inside you, matching each curl with a flick over your clit, and the motions are all so frenzied, those of a man possessed with some ravenous desire, like his one purpose is to have you writhing in his lap, and you give a wordless cry - too overcome with blinding pleasure to actually make a sound - that allows you to hear his ragged words. "Please, give me another one, one more - I want to make you squirt this time, it's going to be so good, I promise, just give me one more, pretty girl-"

This time, it's not just one wave of pleasure, spreading from your core and emanating outwards; no, it's wave after wave after wave, violently crashing over you and completely overcoming every part of your body, unrelenting and constant - this one lasts at least twice as long as the last, but you're hardly in the right state of mind to keep track of time, and every wave of pleasure that rushes through you is tenfold stronger than the last. You hear yourself shriek his name in the most pathetic, broken tone, and Dick cages you in against his body as best as he can as he keeps both hands working at your pussy, and you realise you're sobbing when he finally, finally stops.

When his fingers slip out of your pussy and exit your leggings, they're dripping wet. Dick audibly gasps, and then he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks, moaning around the digits, and through hazy eyes you can see the most fucked-out look on his face just at the taste of your cum. He licks his fingers clean - you feel your pussy clench down again at the sight - before opening his eyes, fixing you with an intense stare, and panting, "You taste so fucking good - baby, I'm not going to be able to stop, I'm sorry, I need this, I need to fuck you - please."

He's asking permission, you realise. Neither of you are in control of what you're doing anymore, and he's still asking, as best as he can, if he's allowed to fuck you. There's a terrified look in his eyes, behind the frenzy and the lust - you clumsily crash your lips against his. He tastes of your juices, but it's one of the hottest things you've ever experienced, and he moans openly into your mouth, eagerly meeting your tongue with his own. You're exhausted, but kissing him renews your energy tenfold. You're suddenly overcome with the urge to feel his cock - inside you, yes, but you want to see it first, you want to make him cry out and moan and gasp for you - so you manoeuvre in his lap, keeping your mouth against his, to straddle his narrow hips and face him.

"Ah - ah, god, that feels amazing.", Dick moans, broken up between sloppy kisses, saliva starting to drip down both of your chins - but it's hot, so hot - as you frantically reach down to palm at him. The instant you finally touch his cock, you're gone: there's no stopping now that you can feel how achingly hard he is, now that you feel how he twitches under your hand each time you kiss him, and it takes much longer than you would like to undo the drawstring of his sweatpants, pull them down, and wrap your hand around the exposed length of him. He hisses as his whole body jerks.

Instantly, you set a frenzied pace of stroking him, relishing in each ragged moan that you rip from his throat; he's leaking into your palm, you realise, dripping over your fingers as you pull him back by the hair and attach your lips to his neck. When you suck a bruise into the softest part of his skin - the salty-sweat-tangy hollow beneath his Adam's apple - he shouts out your name, loud, followed by, "-fuck, fu- let me fuck you, baby, please, I - I'm close, you have to stop-"

"Come on my hand, Dickie.", you plead, and you're granted a thick spurt of precum when you lick a stripe up the column of his throat: he tastes so good, his skin so hot under your mouth, you can't stop, and you croon right into his ear, "It's - it's gonna last for hours, still, you're still gonna be hard - I'm still so needy for you, Dickie, look - come on my hand, let me see it, please. You can fuck me after, just come for me where I can watch it, oh - oh, please." His moans start to pick up in volume and frequency, coming from a place deeper in his throat. He's close, you know.

You've started to grind onto his thigh somewhere along the way. It feels amazing, it feels even better because you know he's twitching and aching for you just inches away - once you finally drag yourself out of the crook of his neck, you see that you've left a damp streak on his sweatpants in the wake of your hips, and the steady stream of precum leaking from his cock has soaked the material higher up. "Come on, Dickie, come on, let me see you come, I wanna see it, I - I'll, fuck, I'll lick it clean after, Jesus-", you blurt out, too far gone to be horrified at the ease with which the words spill from your lips.

"Oh, baby, shit-” he cries, and then his voice dissolves into a broken jumble of incoherent mumbles and whines. His cock twitches hard in your palm, once, twice, three times against the rapid pace you maintain on him, and then Dick bucks his hips up into your hand, back arched, perfectly still and tense; he comes hard, almost whimpering, head thrown back and eyes tightly shut, looking so, so perfect as you stroke him through it and grind feverishly onto his thigh. It's the image of his cock that has the breath snatched from your chest, though. Several thick ropes of cum spurt from him as you work him through it, some hitting the skin of your abdomen and some dripping down the length, and it just keeps going, no sign of stopping until Dick completely collapses, after almost a minute of moaning and coming - your hand is drenched with him.

The sight of his cum dripping from your palm makes something in your stomach clench hard, painfully, and suddenly you need to taste him, you have to, it hurts so much and it'll go away as soon as you get your mouth on him. You scramble off the chair, almost falling to your knees in front of him - he rushes to steady you, even with weak and shaky arms - but you don't care about how graceful you look right now. As soon as you manage to nestle yourself between thighs, you lick flat up the underside of his cock. The taste of it makes your eyes roll back in your head. Dick spits, "Holy shit!", and it trails off into a deep gasp as you wrap your lips around him and sink down as far as you can go. You'd take your time, usually, but everything in your body is screaming for you to taste him, let him fill you, and you're in no position for argument.

With each dip of your head - punctuated with a moan from the man above you, each one becoming closer to a growl, animalistic, and you think the pollen is beginning to send your bodies into total overdrive now - you take him as deeply as you can. You're nearly gagging, but that's what you need. His hands tangle into your hair; at first, you can tell he's trying to be as gentle as he can, but that's soon overcome with a tight, guiding grip that pushes you further down onto his cock with each bob of your mouth. The burning heat under your skin is killing you now, too much to ignore, so you manage to shuffle out of your leggings and underwear and kick them away: Dick groans roughly, maybe because he can smell you more clearly now-

"Come here, pretty girl-", Dick says, sliding his hands from your hair to lift you up by the jaw. You mean to whine, perhaps beg him to let you back down, because he feels so good in your mouth - then you see the look on his face. He looks totally gone. Nothing like the Dick you know, warm and gentle and relaxed: his eyes are completely clouded over, lips parted and slick with saliva, brow furrowed with something between pain and carnal desire. You imagine you look much the same, with spit dripping from your chin, the heat you can feel burning your cheeks, and the wetness you feel running down the insides of your thighs. He meets your eyes, and there's a moment of stillness. One thumb slips from your cheek to trace over your lower lip.

Then, both of you move at once - you surge forward to kiss him again, those perfect, pink lips - you fumble with the hem of his shirt, ripping it up and over his head while barely leaving his mouth for a second - Dick's hands slide down your body to your waist. He pulls you into him as he leans forward, half-supporting your weight, and suddenly your back is against the floor and he's on top of you, kissing you hard and bruising, the chair long since kicked away and forgotten about. Every inch of freshly exposed skin feels like molten silk under your touch: you slide greedy hands over his torso as he licks into your mouth, feeling the network of ridged scars and each ridge of muscle. Thankfully, Dick grants you a few precious, savoured moments to feel his skin, while he alternates between rolling his hips against your bare pussy and kicking off his sweatpants.

It's all ungraceful and clumsy - wet kisses stolen between your movements, each of you moaning against the other's lips - and it takes much, much too long for both of you to finally shed yourself of all your clothes. Dick's hands grab greedily at your breasts as he ruts his hips against you a few times, and you can feel how your wetness spreads over his cock. Then, his hands fly down to find your knees, and he drags them to fit around his waist, pulling up until your hips are fully tilted, the stretch of your muscles verging on uncomfortable. "Oh, fuck, that's it, baby. Keep your legs there for me, won't you? Come on, wrap your legs around me - I want to get as deep as I can, it's gonna feel amazing, I promise.", Dick says, bordering on a growl now that his voice is so deep and strained, and you do as he says immediately. You need him inside of you, now; you hook your ankles behind his back, kiss him, and desperately grind your hips into his.

And then, with one deep roll of his hips, he's inside of you. One quick thrust and he's buried to the hilt, and, God, he fits inside you so perfectly: your body all but melts at the feeling of finally being filled, and you keen as you instinctively use your ankles to press his hips further into you. Dick's just large enough to stretch you out, even with how wet and ready you are, without becoming painful, and the pollen means it only takes you a short moment to adjust to his size before your body is pleading to be fucked. He's shaking and panting with restraint above you whimper, "Ho-holy fuck, Dickie, please... please move, oh my god."

"I know, baby, I know.", he says, breathlessly, voice tight with pleasure but still sympathetic. Even with him motionless inside you, it already feels so good, better than anyone you've ever fucked, and you can hardly stop yourself from grabbing him by the shoulders, pushing him down, and riding him. "It just feels so good, you feel so good - I don't want to rush it, I want to make it last. Jesus, my body feels like it's on fire while I'm touching you, I - oh, fuck, I want to take it slow, make you feel so good you cry-"

"-We have all night to be slow, Dick, you can do whatever you want to me, just fuck me-"

Dick's hips roll into yours and a drawled curse falls from his parted lips. He pulls out, almost completely, enough that you panic and squeeze him tighter with your thighs, but then he pushes back into you, slowly, letting you savour the way each nerve ending inside your pussy is set ablaze; he repeats the motion, faster, his curses morphing into sweet mumbles of your name each time he bottoms out. You can hardly breathe - it feels so good, and each thrust of his hips is met with a pollen-driven roll of your own, so it's half-grinding, half-fucking - the slight curve of his cock has him dragging deliciously against your g-spot every time. His movements are picking up in intensity now, and you can tell the pollen is taking him over completely. The same is happening to you: fuck it, you don't want to think about the pollen anymore, you just want him.

"Ah, yes! Yes, right there-right- keep going-", you cry out after a particularly hard slam of his hips. Dick is propped up on one elbow, hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, and the other hand slips down to grab at your ass and pull you up into him. He's deep enough that it hurts, but it's the best pain you've ever experienced. "Fuck, faster, please!"

He obeys, mercifully, and you think you can see sweat starting to bead on his temples. "Is this what you need, pretty girl? Come on, tell me what you want - tell me I'm making you feel good, because you're making me feel so fucking good, I swear, better than I ever even imagined - fuck, you're so wet, are you going to come again? Please, please let me make you come on my cock."

The combination of his cock inside you, and his pelvis bumping against your clit, and the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body: it's all too much to bear, your body is going into total overdrive, and it's so embarrassing that he's got you like this. You never normally beg, you never normally come so fast, but this is different and addictive and incredible - you cry out an affirmation to his words, and suddenly his hand is gripping your chin. He's fully collapsed onto you now, and his movements are more frantic rutting than anything else.

"Look at me-", he pleads, using his hand to guide your face so you're staring right into those glassy eyes. "-look at me while you come, and it'll make me come."

You can feel your muscles beginning to tense up as your orgasm starts to grow. Already, your world is spinning, and you feel halfway to blacking out from the sheer intensity, so you tangle your hands into his hair as a way to ground yourself. "Please come inside me!", you whine - the idea of being filled with his cum, letting it drip out while he fucks another load into you, it's fucking mind-blowing and you can't imagine anything better than feeling him shoot into you while you come on his cock.

Dick's jaw clenches tightly. "Are - are you sure, baby? Is that what you want?"

The next thrust hits you perfectly, and you can't help but pull him tighter into you, so his head drops to the crook of your neck. "I need it, Dickie, you know - you know that - you need me too, right? Fuck, fuck - it's gonna feel so good, I'm so close-". He spends a few moments sucking a bruise into the most tender skin of your neck before moving to press his forehead to yours. Each rough movement of his hips has you jostling against the floor; your nipples are dragging against his chest every time, making you keen, and your swollen clit is being hit so perfectly by his hips, and he's making the most perfect and breathy noises against you - he looks so fucked-out, so gone, so completely absorbed in the feeling of his cock inside you, and your vision is starting to blur at the edges as the spark in your stomach finally bursts into flames-

"That's it, baby, come for me just like that.", Dick gasps, just as your orgasm rips through you. You've got no choice but to clutch at him desperately and ride out each devastating wave as a scream tears itself from your lungs: it feels like your body is tearing itself apart with each ripple of pleasure emanating from your core. Like your body is folding in on itself like a black hole does, when everything becomes too much to bear. You actually feel like you've died, you must have, this is too good and too much and too overwhelming - you hang on to Dick through it all, and your pussy clenches down so hard he can barely move inside you, and he chokes out your name before his own orgasm hits him.

You've come down just enough to process the way he looks and sounds as he comes. Your eyes are still hazy - you kept them on him, you must have - but you nearly come again at the mere sight of him. He's too far gone to even make sounds, and instead he stutters out broken breaths through wet lips, cheeks flushed and eyebrows furrowed hard, and his eyes stay fixed on you the whole time. Even as the rest of his body spasms and rocks into you uncontrollably, even as the hand on your chin slips down to your neck and squeezes, he keeps staring at you with all the lust in the world. The best part of it all, though, is how you feel his cum spilling out into you; even more than he shot onto your hand, somehow, and you realise you're crying from how relieved your body is. Fully, fully, crying, and Dick kisses away your tears as he collapses against you.

Despite how both of you are wincing at the overstimulation, neither of you ever stop moving through it all, and you keep grinding gingerly, carefully but sloppily, against each other even while you gasp for breath against each others' lips. It can't be more than ten seconds from when you come down, before you can't control the urge to whisper, "Give me another one, Dick, please. Keep fucking me." It hurts - it hurts because he's not fucking you, he's not moving enough - you need more.

Dick keeps rolling his hips against yours in shallow movements for a few seconds. His mouth is occupied with sucking more bruises into your neck, up your throat and across your jaw: he's mumbling something incoherent, slurring his words. Each fresh bruise has you gasping his name. You're going to be covered in marks after this - not just your neck, his grip on your ass and hips has been tight enough to leave bruises there, too - and you're entirely certain you've left scratch marks down his back. You nearly come again just at the thought of that; Dick, walking around for days with your marks left on him. Scratch marks under his dress shirts when he's on business, or under the tight material of his Nightwing suit, or blatantly visible through the obscenely sheer shirts he wears out clubbing. He's going to be marked as yours.

"You look so pretty like this, holy shit-", he says, pulling his head from your neck to admire his work. "You're so gorgeous - you always are, you always fucking are - but you look even better when you're mine, fuck-"

“-make me yours, then, please-"

You gasp in shock and disappointment as Dick suddenly pulls out, and his own face crumples at the loss of touch, but his palms are firm and insistent on your waist - he kisses you once, firmly, before he's manoeuvring your body like putty in his hands. You're flipped onto your stomach with another whisper of how pretty you are, and then Dick runs calloused palms down the soaked flesh of your thighs, up over your ass, over the curve of your spine and all the way up to gently, gently, press your cheek flat against the floor. He follows his hand with hot tongue, and when he reaches your ear, he murmurs, "You taste so good, pretty girl. Stay there for me. It's okay, let go. I've got you."

Uncontrollably, your ass jerks up and backwards against where his cock is pressing into you. He chuckles. He fucking laughs with his lips pressed to your cheek - maybe having came inside you has cleared his head enough that he can think straight enough to find your desperation funny - and one of his hands slides back down your body, spreading your pussy open for him to look at. You sense his body tense as he gazes at you. "...My cum is dripping out of you, oh my god."

Fuck it back into me, you think, but you're too far gone to string together a coherent sentence anymore. Your body can do the talking. You keep your cheek pressed to the floor, maybe because your muscles are too exhausted to lift your head, or maybe because it was so fucking hot how Dick pressed your head down, but you manage to meet his eyes. You plead with him as well as you can.

Dick's piercing blue eyes roll right back into his skull when he pushes into you again. From this angle, he feels even deeper than before: with one of his hands running lines up your spine, and his lips wet against the backs of your shoulders, and the steady, strong pace he sets fucking you, you're brought to the verge of tears again within minutes. You can hardly move your body to work with him in this position: he uses the weight of his body to press you into the floor, and each thrust of his hips has you moaning loud against the floor.

He brings a string of kisses and nips up your nape, so he can kiss your cheek again. It's sweet, a gentle gesture, only amplifying the pleasure that each deep snap of his hips brings. "I - I'm not hurting you, am I? I know it must be sensitive, baby, I understand if it's too much, I know - you can tell me if it's too much-"

"-no, please-", you whimper, terrified he's going to stop, "-it's so good, please, Dickie, you're exactly what I need-", and then your voice cuts out into a broken sob as one of his hand snakes between your body and the floor to find your clit. The rough pad of his finger brushes over it a few times, eliciting whimpers from you, before he settles for simply resting his finger on your clit. With each thrust, your hips are jostled against his finger just enough to send sparks of electricity shooting through your veins - every time, it feels like flames licking through each limb, and he's fucking into you so perfectly, claiming you with teeth at your neck, rasping your name against your skin - there's wetness against your cheek, like you're drooling, and you're almost certain you can feel the wetness of your pussy dripping onto his hand.

You're so swollen with desire, you can feel how tightly you're clenching down onto his cock. The mind-blowing pressure Dick's applying to your clit is only making it stronger. "You feel so good, baby. So, so, fucking good - holy shit, you're taking me so well." Then, there's a savage thrust of his hips, one that has both of you crying out in surprise and pleasure: he freezes buried to the hilt inside you. "You're going to make me come again soon, sweetie."

That means more of his cum inside you, more of his delicious moans and groans as he comes, and you say, "God, please-"

"-not yet, I want to make you come for me again. You feel so tight and hot when you do - I need it again, I want nothing more than that, please - you think you can give me another one, huh? One more for me?"

"I - I - yeah.", you stammer. You can, you know you can - your body is practically vibrating from how hard you're trembling on the edge of another orgasm - but you don't know when it's going to stop, you don't know it ever will - maybe this will go on all night, maybe he'll fuck you for hours on end and make you cry and let you lick your mess of his cock. But maybe it won't. Maybe your body will give out, or the pollen will leave his system: this will end and nothing will ever compare. You don't want to come again if it means the end of this pleasure. "...Promise you'll keep going after, Dickie."

Dick starts rubbing rapid circles on your clit with his ring and index finger, and kisses your hairline to soothe you as you sob again. "I'm only going to stop if you ask me to, baby, I promise. You feel too good to stop, I swear - I never thought you would be so fucking perfect, but now I know, I can't stop - I'm right here, I've got you, I'm going to make you come so many times you forget your name if that's what you want."

God, you're going to come again, holy shit-

He hardly gives you the chance to come back around before he's crooning, "-one more, one more for me, right on my cock like that-"

You can't even breathe. Your lungs are on fire, your vision is completely blacked out even once the second orgasm ends, your muscles and bones have turned into mush and you can't feel anything other than the sensation of flying. You're weightless, Dick is the only thing grounding you - he coaxes you down from the aftershocks with soft kisses to your cheek, and his hand tracing circles onto your aching hip, and the muscles of his abdomen are flexing with restraint against your back. "I'm gonna come, baby-", he hisses, and you manage the barest nod and then he sinks his teeth right into your shoulder as he starts pounding into you like a whore, fuck, it's sending you spiralling out of control again-

"Fuck, yes, take my cum like that, that's it, keep coming for me, holy shit-"

You're both boneless and drenched in sweat by the end of it. You're collapsed against the floor, Dick's collapsed against you, and he's still hard inside of you. You can feel his cum - it must have spilled out onto the insides of your thighs, judging by the wetness you feel there. His cock twitches inside of you with every ragged breath he takes. You're so exhausted; this is destroying your body, it's ripping you apart from the inside out, and you're terrified that if you come again it'll split you into pieces. And you want that. You twist your body, wincing against the waves of pleasure that crash over you at even the slightest movement of his cock inside you, and kiss him.

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #nightwing #nightwing x reader #dc #dcu #batman #batfam #kinktober #smut #dick grayson smut #sex pollen

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

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Its always interesting to me when I see people saying Damian is just like Bruce, in a totally matter of fact way, like its just such a foregone conclusion to them, because I don’t really see it at all, lol.

Like to be clear, its not that Damian doesn’t have ANY similarities to Bruce, I think all of Bruce’s kids share various attributes with him....I just think most of the ones Damian shares tend to be more superficial than characteristic, and there are others who are far more like Bruce than he is? Personally, I think Cass and Tim have the most in common with Bruce, albeit in different ways.....but tbh I think even Jason has more in common with Bruce than Damian does, for example.

Idk.....like for instance, I consider one of the key differences between Dick and Bruce being that Bruce’s sense of morality and ethics is clearly defined, exists as specific, hard-clung to views that he applies regardless of whom is involved in whatever situation he’s applying them to. To Bruce, ethics and morality exist outside of people, and are inviolate.....they’re not meant to change depending on who they’re aimed at or will be affected by them. In contrast, Dick is someone I see as having a morality largely defined by people. His sense of morals and ethics are more fluid....its not that he doesn’t have clearly defined views of right and wrong that underly his regular actions and choices as sort of a default benchmark, a starting point to work off of....its that Dick sees morals and ethics as meaningless if they don’t serve those he cares about or fights for, or if he has to sacrifice someone he values in service to what he views as an arbitrary moral or ethic that CAN be adjusted if he so chooses to adjust it....like that’s the thing HE’S not willing to do. Its like.....Dick sees individual lives as having more value than the abstract, which is what he ultimately considers a singular principle, and so he’d rather sacrifice the principle than the life. Bruce in contrast doesn’t view morals and ethics as being remotely abstract, and views them as the very things that GIVE individual lives value, so he’s not willing to sacrifice his values or principles full stop.

Or to put it another way: If it comes down to a choice between a killer and their intended victim, where it looks like the only possible way to save their victim is to kill the killer before they can kill instead....Dick will take the shot so to speak.....but since he does still believe killing is wrong and an absolute last resort and he’s been raised by someone who he very much does value and who believes that there’s always another way.....then Dick will self-flagellate for not having been able to find another way that didn’t involve killing the killer. Bruce on the other hand, will attempt down to the very last second to find a way to save both lives, no matter how impossible it seems.....and if he’s ultimately unable to, he’ll then self-flagellate for not having found a way to save both.

The truly ironic thing IMO, is even in a situation where BOTH consider themselves to have failed, they’ll both still consider their failure to be the exact same thing....though for entirely different reasons and with different results. Both will view ‘not having been able to find another way’ to have been the true failure.....even though, one killed and one didn’t. Because Dick wouldn’t perceive having killed as his true failure.....because that’s the part he doesn’t actually regret, if it means that he saved the killer’s intended victim as a result. He still did it with intent, in this complete hypothetical, because he perceived the victim’s life as more important than his personal desire not to kill or view that killing is wrong. BUT he’ll still consider himself to have failed because despite having saved one life, he’d view the fact that he couldn’t find another way where taking one life wasn’t a NECESSITY in order to accomplish that.....that was his failure, in his mind. Similarly, but completely differently at the same time....Bruce will consider his failure to have been not having found a way to save both. BUT just like Dick’s true regret isn’t that he killed the killer, Bruce’s true regret isn’t that he DIDN’T, in order to save their victim. Its that he couldn’t find a way out of that box that made it a choice of one or the other.

Course, that’s just my perception of the two of them.

But as examples, this is I think WHY Dick was able to kill the Joker at all in Last Laugh, whereas Bruce will ultimately never bring himself to cross that line. (And while Dick wasn’t matter of fact about it by any means, its significant in my mind that his actual stated regrets about that were always that he played into what the Joker had wanted and thus let him win, and that he’d failed Bruce and let him down....never once was it actually that he’d killed the Joker, period.) Similarly, its why Dick’s a lot more willing to work with people he’s ideologically opposed to or more flexible....in fact, I maintain its specifically why Bruce was so convinced that only Dick could infiltrate Spyral. It wasn’t JUST about the logistics of Dick being believed dead after Forever Evil, or Bruce’s issues about having just watched Dick die.......because Bruce is great at undercover work himself, as Matches Malone, and he traditionally HATES delegating the ‘hard stuff’ to someone else, especially when the stakes are this high....even if he does trust that person absolutely. He believes that if its his responsibility, its up to him to do it if at all possible.

Which is why I think that ultimately, the only reason Bruce didn’t find a way to take on the Spyral mission himself, is because he didn’t think he’d be able to. Spyral was a shady spy organization that engaged in morally compromising work on a day to day basis. Deep down, I think Bruce was aware that there would be too many occasions in which he’d be likely to be sidetracked or frozen by his conviction that there HAD to be a way around whatever he was being asked to do for the sake of keeping his cover, that didn’t require acting against various hard-set morals....which more than likely would have cost him the mission and rendered it a failure.....with catastrophic results for his family and the rest of the hero community. Whereas he knew that Dick would be able to find a way to make it work, because despite having a very strong sense of right and wrong of his own, he knows Dick’s highest moral prerogative is that he WILL act on even something he does firmly believe is wrong, if he’s convinced its the price he needs to pay for the sake of loved ones. And thus, even though he wouldn’t be any happier about the moral compromising nature of a lot of Spyral’s work than Bruce is, he’d be less likely to find himself unable to act in a split second decision time, so long as Bruce uttered the magic words: this is an utter necessity for the sake of your family.

Also ironically, btw, I think one of the key ways that a lot of people perceive Dick and Bruce as different....I’d disagree and say is actually where they’re MOST alike. And that’s that people point to Bruce as closed off and tightly guarding his emotions, hurts, and vulnerabilities at the expense of getting close to people or letting them in.....whereas Dick is more of a people person. But honestly, I disagree. I think people overlook that Brucie Wayne is still as much a part of Bruce Wayne’s life as Batman is. Bruce is and always has been completely capable of being the life of the party and surrounding himself with droves, on a surface level. I think Dick takes it perhaps a bit further than that, he IS more approachable than Bruce in general, that sorta thing.....BUT when it comes to his most private emotions, hurts and vulnerabilities.....I think Dick is just as inclined as Bruce to keep those parts of himself closely guarded and he doesn’t LIKE giving them up. The actual difference between them IMO, again comes down to the role other people play in their ways of thinking.....as I think that the times and reasons Dick DOES open up about his most closely guarded thoughts or emotions....its for other people, because he’s convinced himself that THEY need this from him. Left to his own devices, or at least the perception that he’s the only one likely to be affected by whether he shares his most intimate self with someone else or not, I think he’s just as likely as Bruce to well, not.

And all of this is key to why I think that Damian tends to have a lot more in common with Dick than Bruce, whereas others in the family have more in common with Bruce than Dick. Because see, Damian, like Dick, is more likely to ACT as a result of other specific individuals rather than his own personal sense of right and wrong. Look at when he first came from the League of Assassins. He had a clearly defined view of right and wrong, an already formed morality of his own, even if it was diametrically opposed to most of the Batfam’s, particularly Bruce’s.

Damian didn’t set all that aside because people succeeded in just uniformly shifting his paradigms to be more in line with their views of right and wrong. The changes to his moral code came as a trickle down result of him ALREADY adjusting his actions or behavior - even before he necessarily came to view them as wrong - for the sake of the connections he was building, with Dick, with Alfred, with Steph, and then from there with others.

Just like I outlined with Dick, where he’s more likely than Bruce or many others to act on even something HE believes is wrong, if he views it as a necessity for the sake of a loved one.....Damian is similarly likely to act in a way that completely flies in the face of everything he came to Gotham already believing....if he views it as a necessity for the sake of the individuals he came to value. Just like Dick, simply starting from a different point on the moral spectrum. The sense of right and wrong that they ‘betrayed’ for the sake of other valued individuals was different....not the reasoning for that ‘betrayal’ of their previously established moral code.

Similarly, while Damian is just as inclined to be closed off and guarded as Bruce is (and Dick. and well, most of the Batfam shares this part in common, lol) - like Dick, when he does open up, be it to Dick or Alfred or Jon or Colin.....its because he’s convinced himself that on some level its what THEY need, rather than because he actually believes that he himself needs to let them in.

Meanwhile, the reason I say Jason is actually more like Bruce than even Damian is, lies in viewing Jason as falling somewhere between Dick and Bruce on a lot of this. Basically, I think that Jason is more naturally inclined to be more like Bruce in how rigidly he holds to a particular sense of right and wrong.....its just that the particulars of what they both view as right and wrong are different. Same thing with it being more natural to Jason to be like Bruce in terms of guarding his emotions. But in both instances, he’s still ENOUGH like Dick, as opposed to Bruce, that he does still adjust his emotional behavior and how likely he is to act on or against his personal view of morality.....for the sake of valued individuals. It just doesn’t come to him AS....naturally, I guess, as it does to Dick, and thus he’s not AS fluid as Dick in these things....but he’s still MORE fluid about them than Bruce. And that’s why even though it takes a LOT to budge him from his view of the right and wrong approach to vigilantism, he IS still willing to put aside what he does still believe is a necessity or right....if that’s what it takes to have his family in his life, etc.

To be clear - I am trying to not cast any particular judgments on any of the approaches to morality here....simply just, not the aim of this post. I’m more trying to view things analytically here, so when I frame Bruce as being the most intractable of the lot here, the least likely to budge his morals or act against his personal sense of right and wrong for the sake of loved ones, its not because I’m trying to say that he DOESN’T love his family, or even that he loves them any less than Dick does, Jason does, etc. And I’m not even trying to suggest that he’s wrong for his approach. I’m literally just....exploring the WHY of it.

And for me, that tends to go back to the singular difference between Bruce’s later childhood, after his parents’ deaths, the period between ages 10 and adulthood.....versus the childhoods of his various children around those same ages, or after their parents’ deaths.

Because these are the ages when most of us most fully develop the....intricacies of our personal moralities, when we explore and shape how our behavior stems from that sense of right and wrong and when and where we act on our beliefs, etc.

And the key thing about Bruce during this period of his life, IMO, is that at the time.....he had very few specific INDIVIDUALS who played significant emotional roles in his life and in his mind. Bruce cares about people. Absolutely. A lot. But for a lot of the period in which Bruce shaped a lot of his personal moral behavior, people were almost as much an abstract to him as morals themselves. That’s not quite the right way to put it, but I mean, its more like....there was a kind of uniformity to the way he viewed people as a whole, because there were less individuals specifically standing out from the rest, as PARTICULARLY significant to him himself....and thus likely to influence his growing moral code.

The other key factor is the people he DID have valued emotional connections to at this point, like....they had a kind of permanence that stretched back to early childhood for him. They weren’t NEW additions to his life. While I believe that his parents’ deaths absolutely was formative for him and left him with severe abandonment issues....for Bruce, these abandonment issues were specifically geared around fear of losing people to death. He was already rooted in the same place, same life, same people, that he was before his parents’ death, that part of his life didn’t change.....and thus the people who were left to play large emotional roles in his life and worldview, like Alfred and Leslie.....he might have been afraid of losing them the way he lost his parents, but he wasn’t especially of losing them for other reasons. Specifically: I don’t think Bruce grew up during this time feeling any particular fear of losing someone like Alfred - a staple of his entire life - to, say, Alfred judging him for his choices or his morals.

As a result, Bruce grew up shaping his personal view of right and wrong and resulting morality-stemming behavior, on pretty much nothing BUT those morals and ethics themselves. And there wasn’t any particular NEED to shape those morals AROUND the people he valued in life, or likelihood that he’d lose them due to differences in opinion or ideology, like....with all of this adding up to be the reasons HIS moral code and behavior is less fluid than even most peoples’. Because there wasn’t really any reason for it NOT to be. There were very few people and thus few occasions, while still DEVELOPING all this, that made him feel that he was maybe on the wrong track, or that he needed to make room for exceptions or the possibility that he might need to adjust his views or behavior in these regards.

In contrast......Dick, Jason and most of the others all came to Bruce after significant upheavals in their life that necessitated basically starting over in an entirely brand new environment with brand new people, etc. So they lacked the specific aspect of the PERMANENCE Bruce felt in regards to his own valued loved ones during this period of his life. So unlike him, where he had a bit more space to contemplate his moral code and behavior without being particularly afraid of getting it wrong or that his choices here might cost him these people.....Dick, Jason, et al like....they formed their moral codes and behavior with significantly more awareness that many of the people they valued already had fully formed codes of their own they felt very strongly about...AND at the same time, they had REASON to be....less secure about whether or not the choices they made here could potentially cost them these people.

Which is a perfect recipe for the kind of moral fluidity based around specific individuals, that I maintain most of the kids display to various degrees. In fact, you can almost kinda....chart the extent of their moral fluidity, via various factors like the QUANTITY of significant emotional attachments in their lives at this time. Like I maintain Dick is the most morally fluid based on people.....but that I think has a lot to do with the fact that Dick had the most attachments to....protect or preserve. Even though he was forced to live apart from his extended circus family, they still very much figured into his thoughts as people he cared about and valued, and then there were Bruce and Alfred, and then Clark, Barbara, the Titans, etc, etc.

In contrast, look at how Jason came to Wayne Manor with very few pre-existing emotional attachments with anyone still alive.....and the fact that Jason during his time living with Bruce didn’t really even have occasion to form a large number of attachments outside of his immediate family, as he wasn’t on any teams unlike Dick, and he didn’t mingle all that much with other members of the hero community. Ergo, Jason’s LESS morally fluid than Dick simply for the reason that like Bruce, he had more reason to construct his personal morals around simply his own perceptions and convictions, and less people he felt this moral code and behavior needed to acccomodate, or be prepared to make exceptions for or around.

Meanwhile, I’d argue that Damian is like Jason in that he had fewer people to build into his personal view of right and wrong and how and when to act based on that.....BUT a key difference here is that Damian didn’t have a lot of experience pre-Gotham with feeling valued and valuing other individuals in turn, like...at all. The connections he developed with Dick, Alfred, Steph, etc.....they were brand new to him, basically a revelation in a lot of ways, because before that we’ve seen how he was often taught to dampen his view of how valuable or not to view personal connections.....whereas Jason, pre-Wayne Manor, like......we know that he DID very much have a strong emotional attachment to Catherine that he embraced and was not hesitant to value, etc. So my point here being that the sheer NEWNESS of what Damian was feeling in regards to even WANTING to adjust his behavior based not on what he THOUGHT was right or wrong but based on the PEOPLE he was coming to value....this was a complete shock to the system to Damian in ways that it wouldn’t necessarily have been for Jason, resulting in a likelihood that Damian would feel an enhanced INTENSITY around all this that Jason might not, and thus despite both of them having similar NUMBERS of emotional attachments they shaped their changing and developing moral codes around, these people carried an additional weight for Damian, just as Jason’s few carried an additional weight that Bruce’s didn’t have due to the differences in THEIR upbringings in this period of their lives.....and thus resulting in Damian having an even more fluid moral code and behavior than Jason did....closer to being on par with Dick’s, just as Jason still has a more fluid one than Bruce does.

ANYWAY.

This was a LOT longer than I thought it would be when I started a little post about huh weird how I don’t see Damian the way a lot of other people do BUT SINCE WHEN IS THAT NEWS.

In conclusion, this has been a post.

Good day.

159 notes · View notes

oh-mother-of-darkness · 4 years

Text

Timeline: Batman

google doc / ao3

This is my best attempt at a post-crisis timeline based on age-- specifically Bruce’s age every time he adopted and/or met one of his children.

List of events:

Bruce’s parents die

Bruce becomes Batman

Dick’s parents die

Dick becomes Robin

Jason becomes Robin and is adopted

Jason dies

Tim becomes Robin

Cass appears

Dick is adopted

Tim is adopted

Cass is adopted

Damian becomes Robin

I’ll be citing my work by issue and panel. This isn’t my most organized work, and I don’t know how well tumblr will let me translate it, so I do recommend the google doc. I imagine the image quality here won’t be great.

Notes:

This is a post-crisis timeline (1986-2011). I’ll be referencing a few pre-crisis panels, but I won’t be touching the New 52 or anything after it. That’s a different game of ball with its own, extremely bad, timeline.

Crisis on Infinite Earths is a 1985-1986 series that rebooted the DC timeline and altered some backstories, including Jason’s. Pre-crisis, his backstory was almost identical to Dick’s. Post-crisis, he changed to the “steal the wheels off the Batmobile” origin. Anything written before 1986 is a weak source for my purposes.

My original question centered around Bruce’s age through the process of meeting and acquiring his children. In this timeline, those children are (1) Dick Grayson, (2) Jason Todd, (3) Cassandra Cain, (4) Tim Drake, and (5) Damian Wayne. I was envisioning an interview where the kids explain their family timeline to outsiders. I did not anticipate the project taking this long.

We’re talking about 72 years of content here, which means decades of contradiction, conflation, and rewrites. I’m pretty satisfied with my work product, but please understand that there are no perfect answers. I’m going to cite my sources, and I’ll do my best to explain why I chose those sources specifically, but it’s pretty likely that for every panel I pull, there will be others with different numbers. We’re all going to have to live with that.

Event timeline

*I’m defining Jason’s age by the time elapsed since his birth, but you could make an argument for using time he has been alive, which is, of course, different. That’s why the parentheses are there.

Age differences

As Robin

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Bruce’s parents die

Pretty consistently, Bruce is written as eight years old the night his parents died.

Detective Comics #0 (1994)

This is a zero issue where Bruce thinks back on his origin story. It was written long after Crisis on Infinite Earths (1986), and I tend to give a lot of weight to ages written in summaries of past plot lines, my reasoning being that it’s easier to be consistent in one issue than it is to be consistent through a month to month story.

Bruce first appeared as an adult in Detective Comics #27 (1939), and the Waynes were already dead at that point, so flashbacks are the only available material anyway.

Gotham Knights #6 (2000)

The text is Hugo Strange talking about Bruce, and the image is Tim and Dick playing at Wayne Enterprises.

I’ll take a second here to note that I did find at least one alternate age for Bruce— in Superman/Batman Secret Files & Origins (2003), Bruce was 10 when his parents died. I’m disregarding that in favor of the stronger 8 year old timeline, especially in light of Batman #404 (1987).

Batman #404 is the beginning of Batman: Year One, which was explicitly written to clarify the Batman timeline post-crisis, and it’s the basis of most of my calculations for Bruce and Dick’s ages.

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Bruce becomes Batman

According to Year One, Bruce was 26 years old when he became Batman. I’m using his age at his parents’ deaths, his age when he returned to Gotham, and his 18 year timeline.

Batman #404 puts Bruce at age 25 when he returned to Gotham in January.

Batman #404 (1987)

Bruce gives his dramatic, “Yes, Father, I will become a bat,” line in March. In the same scene, he says that it has been 18 years since his parents’ deaths. Knowing that they died when Bruce was eight, that puts Bruce at 26 years old the day he became Batman, which makes sense considering Bruce’s birthday is usually set at February 19th.

He was 25 in January, turned 26 in February, and became Batman at 26, 18 years after his parents’ death.

Batman #404 (1987)

Post-crisis, DC built timelines off the “Year” model. Year One is Batman’s beginning, and events after that are measured by how far away they are from the year Bruce became Batman. I’ll be using the Year model for Dick’s life events next.

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Dick’s parents die

The Graysons died in Year Two. Using the Year Model, Dick was 12 when his parents died, and Bruce was 37.

Year timelines appear a fair amount, especially in issues titled “Secret Files & Origins.” I pulled this bit from Batman Secret Files & Origins (1997) because it was the easiest to screenshot.

Batman Secret Files & Origins (1997)

Year Two would place Bruce at 27 years old. I’m calculating Dick’s age backwards, based on him being 13 years old during Year Three.

Batman Secret Files & Origins (1997)

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Dick becomes Robin

Dick became Robin in Year Three, when he was 13 years old and Bruce was 28. I’m using two different issues to calculate the number.

Batman #441 (1989)

Batman #441 is from Tim’s introduction story. It takes place “months” after Jason’s death. We’ll get to that part. In Batman #441, Tim asked Dick to be Robin again in order to help Bruce, who was visibly unstable after Jason’s death. Dick says that he can’t go back to being Robin, just like he can’t go back to being 13 years old. The strong implication there is that Dick became Robin at 13, which corresponds to Dick’s statements in Batman #416 (1988).

In Batman #416, Dick as Nightwing returns to confront Bruce about Jason becoming Robin. He says that he was Robin for six years, and he stopped being Robin at 19.

Batman #416 (1988)

If Dick stopped being Robin at 19, after 6 years, that would put him at 13 when he debuted as Robin, the same number from Batman #441 (1989).

Dick was 13 during Year Three, so 12 during Year Two, the year his parents died. Those numbers answer the first bit of my original question. I wanted to know how old Dick and Bruce were when Dick became his child. It’s a bit more of a complicated question for Dick, since he was originally Bruce’s ward, then adopted as an adult.

Based on the timeline so far, Dick became Bruce’s ward at 12 years old, while Bruce was 27.

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Jason becomes Robin and is adopted

As previously discussed (see Notes), Jason’s timeline is complicated by Crisis on Infinite Earths (1985-1986). Pre-crisis, Jason first appeared in Batman #336 (1983) as a former circus acrobat very similar to Dick.

Jason’s origin story reboots at Batman #408 (1987), which describes the switch-off between Dick and Jason. I’m building a lot of my timeline off of that issue. At the beginning, Dick gets shot by the Joker, and as Bruce carries him away, the media ask if Robin is dead. Dick isn’t dead, but back at the manor, Bruce decides to retire Robin as a role, based on the idea that crimefighting is too dangerous for a child.

Batman #408 (1987)

This version is more or less from Bruce’s point of view, but there’s a contrasting version from Dick’s point of view later, in Batman #416 (1987). That one has a significantly different tone, and I already cited it once (page 13) because Dick talks about his age and the amount of time he was Robin.

Batman #408 (1987)

The second part of the issue takes place “weeks” later. Bruce goes to Crime Alley to mourn his parents on the anniversary of their death. He comes back to find that somebody stole the wheels off the Batmobile. The somebody was Jason, and by the end of Batman #409 (1987), Bruce is calling Jason “Robin.”

Batman #408 (1987) seems to divide Dick’s departure and Jason’s introduction by only “weeks,” in the post-crisis reboot. Dick’s version of the story in Batman #416 (1987) is much less charitable to Bruce— instead of ending on a panel of Bruce smiling, it shows the aftermath of Dick in tears as Bruce walks away. Dick goes on to describe leaving the house, going to college for a semester, then dropping out. According to Dick, Bruce didn’t even say goodbye.

Batman #416 (1987)

I don’t think the stories are contradictory; they’re just different experiences of the same events, separated by only eight issues. Dick tells us that he was 19 when he left Wayne Manor, and Bruce chooses his new Robin “weeks” later.

As a summary, we know that Bruce’s parents died when he was eight, and that 18 years passed before he became Batman at 26. One year later, Dick’s parents died while Bruce was 27. One year after that, Dick became Robin at the age of 13. From those facts, Bruce is 15 years older than Dick.

All of my calculations of Bruce’s age are based off of the age gap between him and Dick. Dick was 19 when Jason became Robin, so we know that at that time, Bruce was 34. We also know that at that time, Jason was 12.

I can’t show a source for that number because it appears on the letter page of Batman #408 (1987), Jason’s introduction.

Even after a significant amount of investigation, I can’t find a copy of the letter page, but it’s cited by enough secondary sources for me to be comfortable using it. That issue is specifically written to show Jason’s origin, so it makes sense that it would contain Jason’s age at inception, even if the number wasn’t in the actual exposition.

From Jason being 12, we can establish a seven-year age gap between Jason and Dick, who was 19 at the time. Now we know Bruce, Dick, and Jason’s ages, and the age differences between them.

Back to my original question— when did Bruce acquire Jason? We know that Bruce was 34 when Jason became his ward, and Jason was 12. The next question, however, is when did Bruce adopt Jason? On this one, I’m making an educated guess.

Again we have to differentiate between pre-crisis and post-crisis timelines. Pre-crisis, there’s a full storyline about the fact that Bruce did not adopt Jason, although not for lack of trying. In Batman #374 (1984), the Child Welfare Bureau investigates Bruce when it notices that Bruce has not adopted Jason— and is not even, in fact, his legal guardian.

Batman #374 (1984)

The rest of the storyline is about Jason’s custody. A villain named Natalia Knight (Nocturna) adopts Jason in an attempt to get Bruce to marry her in order to become Jason’s father. In the court scene in Batman #377 (1984), Bruce says that he filed to adopt Jason sometime beforehand, although it’s unclear to me whether he means he filed between those issues or the CWB documents were incomplete.

Natalia does adopt Jason in Batman #378 (1984), and he briefly lives with her before returning to Wayne Manor in Batman #381 (1985), directly before the reboot.

I’m including all of that for two reasons: first, I do think it’s important to clarify both this version and the post-crisis version I’m about to address. Second, I spent years under the impression that Bruce adopted Jason pre-crisis because of one, well-known scene.

Batman #377 (1984)

Batman #378 (1984)

Batman #381 (1985)

Donna Troy gets married in Tales of the Teen Titans #50 (1985). At the wedding, Bruce and Dick have a conversation about Jason and about their own relationship. A few of those panels get spread around because they contain what I would consider a defining moment between Dick and Bruce.

I’m certainly not complaining about the amount of times I’ve seen the wedding conversation, but I think that, in regards to Jason, seeing just those panels has created a misconception.

Tales of the Teen Titans #50 (1985)

Without context, it looks, at least to me, like Dick is saying that Bruce has adopted Jason pre-crisis, which isn’t true. This issue takes place between the Natalia adoption in Batman #378 (1984) and Jason’s return to the manor in Batman #381 (1985), and the panels directly before the exchange make that clear. I just didn’t see those panels until I looked through the whole issue for this project.

I’m reasonably certain that in the past, I publicly cited this issue as evidence of Jason’s adoption, and I was wrong about that. [Note: As it turns out, I was only partially wrong. See section Correction.]

Tales of the Teen Titans #50 (1985)

As we see, the wedding conversation is in the context of the Natalia adoption. With that cleared up, and with the pre-crisis timeline filled out, let’s move to post-crisis.

In my brief read-through of Batman #404-427 (1987-1988), I didn’t find any direct references to Jason’s status. Those issues begin at the reboot and end at Jason’s death. However, Dick and Jason’s statements after the fact do tell us that post-crisis, Bruce did adopt Jason.

In Batman #436 (1989), Dick returns to the manor in the direct aftermath of Jason’s death, and while he is there, he sees that Bruce removed any trace of Jason from the house. There aren’t any trophies in the Batcave, and there aren’t any pictures of Jason on the nightstand displaying Bruce’s family photos.

Dick says that Jason was Bruce’s son.

Batman #436 (1989)

I think it’s fair to ask whether Dick is being literal here, because even if Bruce hadn’t legally adopted Jason, it would still be more than appropriate to call them father and son. I’m not going to place my opinion solely on this kind of statement, even if it does appear pretty regularly from 1988 to the end of the timeline.

Green Arrow/Black Canary #4 (2007)

We get a more definite answer later, during Tim’s first appearance. In Tim’s origin story, he deduces Batman and Robin’s secret identities after he sees footage of Robin doing a type of flip that only the Flying Graysons could do. Tim was at the circus the night Dick’s parents died, so he saw Dick do the flip there, then saw Dick become an orphan.

Because Tim knew that Dick was the first Robin, he correctly identified Bruce as Batman and Jason as the second Robin. He tells Dick all of this in Batman #441 (1989).

Batman #441 (1989)

Tim does specifically use the word “adopts” here, and that’s good enough for me. The last part is guesswork— I don’t know for certain how old Jason and Bruce were when the adoption took place, but I’m electing to say Jason was 12, the same age as he was when he became Robin.

I picked that number both out of convenience and because Tim seems to be putting Jason’s adoption and the second Robin’s appearance at around the same time. With that in mind, I think that Jason was 12 years old both when he became Robin and when Bruce adopted him. Using the age gap we already established, that would put Bruce at age 34.

Circling back to my original question, Dick became Bruce’s ward when Dick was 12 and Bruce was 27. Jason became Bruce’s ward, then adoptive son when Jason was 12 and Bruce was 34.

At this point in the timeline, Bruce is 34 with one former ward and one adopted son.

----------

Correction

A few days after I wrote my section about Jason’s appearance and adoption, I realized that I was missing a panel citation in my discussion of Jason’s death. The panel is from New Titan #55 (1989), and you’ll see me cite it when I talk about Jason’s death certificate.

New Titans #55 (1989) is the issue where Dick, who is with the Teen Titans, finds out about Jason’s death. While I was combing through the issue for the panels I wanted, I reread a scene I had completely forgotten about. Dick goes back to the manor to speak to Bruce, and it doesn’t go well.

New Titans #55 (1989)

I have three comments here. First, I do think this scene is inconsistent with the simultaneous story in the Batman title. In this version, Dick and Bruce have a very aggressive confrontation, but in Batman #436 (1989), Dick appears to be returning to the manor for the first time since Jason died, and there isn’t any reference to a prior fight.

Putting that aside, Bruce does explicitly say that he adopted Jason, and that’s more, stronger verification of a post-crisis adoption. Lastly, it’s pretty clear that Bruce and Dick are talking about the wedding scene.

I already explained that the wedding scene is pre-crisis, and in the original text, that conversation is about Bruce wanting to, but not being able to, adopt Jason. New Titans #55 (1989) carries the wedding scene into post-crisis canon, changing the language in the process. In this version, Bruce has adopted Jason.

I was still wrong about the wedding scene because in the past, I used it as evidence of a pre-crisis adoption. It isn’t pre-crisis evidence, but it is, in a roundabout way, evidence of the post-crisis adoption. I wanted to clear that up before I move on to Jason’s death.

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Jason dies

Jason’s death is by far the shakiest point on my timeline, but I’ve chosen to put him at 15 the day he died in Batman #427 (1988).

I think it’s safe to say that Jason was either 14 or 15 when he died, and my basic conclusion is that running numbers doesn’t give me a definite answer. There’s a cop-out option based on an extraordinarily poor source, and I’m taking the cop-out.

The general consensus seems to be that Jason was 15 at his death, citation to Jason’s death certificate. Jason’s death certificate appears in two different places, and I think most folks conflate the two.

To my knowledge, the only copy of Jason’s death certificate in full appears in The Batman Files (2011), where it does list Jason’s age as 15.

The Batman Files (2011)

Now there is a partial copy in Batman Annual #25 (2006), which I would argue is a very reliable reference when it comes to Jason. That issue is part of the Under the Red Hood story, the one where Jason returns to Gotham for the first time after his resurrection. In fact, the specific annual issue has a timeline for Jason’s events counting forward from his death.

Here’s the problem: the issue doesn’t say his age at death. The partial copy of his death certificate looks like this.

Batman Annual #25 (2006)

I think that when most folks remember a death certificate, they think of this one, the one from a very important issue, instead of The Batman Files (2011) which, as noted, is a very bad source.

I have three issues with The Batman Files (2011): the format, the publishing date, and the other information on the certificate. First, The Batman Files (2011) isn’t a comic book at all. It’s a commemorative book published in collaboration with DC in 2011. Now I don’t think that fact completely removes the book as a source, but it certainly damages its value as one.

My problem with that date, 2011, is that it’s the year the New 52 premiered. I called it a commemorative book because it’s meant to be a look back at a fully complete timeline, a kind of “this is us saying goodbye” product. The date and format alone make me hesitant to cite the certificate, but on top of that, the certificate is inconsistent with prior canon.

I am intimately familiar with retcons and conflicting numbers in the DC timeline. I made a point at the beginning of this paper to tell you that although this is my best attempt to make a cohesive timeline, assuming that I can carve out a cohesive timeline is fundamentally flawed.

I’m not saying that a single contradictory number is enough to make me disregard a source. I am saying that in this particular conversation about an already suspect source, I’m going to take inconsistency into account.

In New Titans #55 (1989), the issue from Corrections, Dick finds out about Jason’s death because a team member notices Jason’s status is set at “unknown.” Dick uses Bruce’s passcode to access restricted information, and he and the Titans see that Jason’s real status is “deceased.”

The death certificate in The Batman Files (2011) marks Jason’s height at 4’6 and his age at 15. In contrast, Dick’s scene puts Jason at 5’4, and its only reference to Jason’s age is a very relatable question from Donna. “How old was he, anyway?”

New Titans #55 (1989)

There’s a substantial difference between the two heights, and I think it’s also worth noting that for a 15 year old American male, 4’6 is in the 0.1 height percentile. In the past, I and many others have tried to justify that height along the lines of Jason being malnourished or similarly afflicted. Personally, I liked the parallel between this height for Jason and Damian’s height at his own death in 2013, and I know I’ve talked about that in the past.

I’m not criticizing anyone for using the 4’6 number, but I do think the unlikelihood of a 15 year old that size is worth bringing up.

In summary, The Batman Files (2011) is so bad of a source that I’m only willing to use it as a last resort. Unfortunately, it’s time for a last resort.

I mentioned a timeline in Batman Annual #25 (2006) that counts forward from Jason’s death. I’m not going to use image cites here because they’re just isolated text boxes labeled either “six months later” or “one year later.”

Using that timeline, we know that Jason’s resurrection took place six months after his death. He spent one year in a coma, then one year on the street, then one year with the League of Assassins. Finally, he spent a nebulous time training before he returned to Gotham.

We know that Jason was gone for a minimum of three and a half years, then whatever time “training” includes. Personally, I’m applying my best attempt at comic logic to say he was missing for somewhere between three and four years.

To understand the next bit, I need to point out that from Jason’s death on, I’m going to be using Tim’s age to track time in the same way I’ve been using Dick’s so far.

As a reminder, I know what age Bruce was when Dick became Robin (28), and I know Dick’s age at the same point (13), so I know there’s a 15 year age difference. As I track Dick’s age through the timeline, I add 15 to get Bruce’s.

In the same way, I know what age Dick was when Jason became Robin (19), and I know Jason’s age at the same point (12), so I know there’s a 7 year age difference. I can use that number ongoing.

I know that Tim was 13 when he made his first appearance as Robin, and I’ll get into that in the next section. After that, I’m placing Dick, Tim, and Cass’s adoptions based on Tim’s age.

To do that, I need to know how much older Dick is than Tim, and I can only get that by knowing Jason’s age at his death, sort of.

How long was Jason Robin? If I had that information, I could establish Jason’s age by counting up from 12, the age when he became Robin, then establish Tim’s age from there.

I can’t really answer that question. There is a panel from Batman #436 where Dick, apparently in his first time at the manor since Jason’s death says the following.

Batman #436 (1989)

My instinctual interpretation is it’s been two years since he stopped being Robin at 19, making Dick 21 and Jason 14. In my opinion, that’s straightforward plain language, but it seems like I’m in the minority on that one, and most folks read it as Dick saying it’s been two years since he was last at the manor. We know from Batman #416 (1988) that Dick’s last visit to the manor was 18 months after Dick left home.

Batman #136 (1988)

I think the most honest thing to say is that Jason was Robin for an indeterminate amount of time that was somewhere between two and three years. I don’t know which number is closer. I also, if you remember, think that Jason was gone from Gotham for somewhere between three and four years, but I don’t know where in that range the real number is.

Here’s why absolutely nothing I’ve said in the past seven pages matters: I need to build my timeline based on the age gap between Jason and Tim.

I don’t know how old Tim was when Jason died.

I know how old Tim was at his first appearance as Robin, and that’s a different number.

We’ll finish this conversation in a moment.

----------

Tim becomes Robin

We begin, thankfully, with a straightforward fact. Tim’s first storyline spans Batman #440-442 (1989). The arc is called A Lonely Place of Dying, and we already talked about it. Tim, having watched Batman and Robin from the shadows for years, comes forwards in the aftermath of Jason’s death in an attempt to convince Dick to become Robin for a second time.

Batman #441 (1989)

We know that Tim was 13 years old at the time, but I do need to clarify exactly what time that was— an indeterminate amount of time after Jason’s death.

The word that pops up a couple of time in Tim’s first arc is “months,” from Tim and Two-Face. How many months? Who’s to say.

Batman #442 (1989)

So, from the top. We know that Bruce was eight when his parents died, 26 when he became Batman, 27 when he met Dick, 28 when Dick became Robin, and 34 when he met Jason.

Dick was 12 when he met Bruce, 13 when he became Robin, 19 when he left home and Jason became Robin.

Jason was 12 when he became Robin.

Bruce is 15 years older than Dick. Bruce is 22 years older than Jason.

Dick is 7 years older than Jason.

How long was Jason Robin? Unknown, but somewhere between two and three years. At that point, he died. “Months” after that, Tim was 13.

Here, we need to acknowledge that Jason could have been either 14 or 15 at his death, and at the same time, Tim was either 12 or 13. We need to know how far they are apart to calculate Tim’s age in relation to Jason, Dick, and Bruce— ongoing, we will always know exactly how old Tim is, so (if we know how far apart Jason and Tim are) we will always know Bruce, Dick, and Jason’s age from there.

How much older than Tim is Jason? Somewhere between one and three years, I guess, but I can’t really go beyond a well-researched guess. In my opinion, there isn’t a straightforward answer for this one.

Having presented my facts, here is my conclusion. Jason was 15 when he died. At the same time, Tim was 13. They are two years apart.

Why? To begin, I’m more comfortable using the number we already have for Tim, 13, than I am dropping him to 12 on the mere possibility that he could have been 12.

Second, even though The Batman Files (2011) is a terrible source, it does at least sort of indicate that the official DC position is a Jason who was 15 years old at his death.

Third, visually speaking, Jason looks closer to 15 than 14 at his death. Is that good evidence? No, absolutely not. Comic book art is definitionally variable, but I am going to pull a few panels for you to look over.

Batman #427 (1988)

Finally, I feel that Jason and Tim are, in later works, treated as if they are different ages. I’m not going to go into much detail on that one because it is purely a personal reaction, but I would refer to Teen Titans #29 (2005) as an example. That issue has Jason and Tim’s first meeting, after Jason comes to the tower specifically to attack Tim.

Teen Titans #27 (2005)

Another well-known issue to check out is Teen Titans #47 (2007).

My basic position is that there are so many ways, all uncertain, to slice Jason and Tim’s ages that I can take my pick. I chose the ones that most closely mirror later canon, fall most squarely into the possible range, and feel the most intuitively right.

They also have the benefit of simplicity, which was very much a factor.

Don’t agree with me? Fair enough. I think I’ve given you enough information to make an educated judgment, and I’ve also gone ahead and made a timeline in the alternative. In this one, Jason was 14 at death, and he and Tim are only one year apart.

----------

In the Alternative

----------

Cass appears

Having progressed beyond Jason and Tim’s age gap, we reenter simple canon. I hope you’re as pleased as I am.

Cass was 17 years old at her first appearance, which we can establish easily based on two different issues. Cass first appears in Batman #567 (1999), during an arc called No Man’s Land. At the time, she is working for Barbara Gordon in the aftermath of an earthquake that destroyed most of Gotham. We learn Cass’s backstory through that issue.

Cass’s biological father is David Cain, a villain, who raised Cass in isolation, never exposing her to a verbal language or allowing any kind of socialization. By comic book logic, her upbringing gave her a near-superhuman ability to understand and anticipate physical actions, as those actions are her only form of communication.

Cain trained her as a child assassin, then took her to her first kill. Cass murdered a man and experienced, through his body language, the pain he felt at his death. Immediately afterward, she ran away from her father.

Batgirl #62 (2005)

We know that Cass was eight years old when she killed and ran. We also know that her first appearance in Gotham was nine years after she ran, thanks to Barbara Gordon’s file.

Batgirl #1 (2000)

Simple enough. She was 17. How old was everybody else? We find out from Tim’s timeline.

This next bit will come up a few times. We know that Tim was 15 from at least 1993 to 2003, established by three different issues. We know from Detective Comics #668 (1993) that Tim was 15 during Knightquest, the arc where Jean-Paul Valley was briefly Batman. Barbara tells us in 2002 that Tim is still 15, and Tim turns 16 on-panel in 2003.

In Knightquest, Tim gets his driver’s license early, at age 15, because Jack Drake is in a wheelchair. I suppose the wording here is ambiguous on a technicality, but I don’t think there’s any significant argument against Tim being 15; if he was only 14, the language would be different.

Detective Comics #668 (1993)

Next, in Batgirl #24 (2002), Barbara says she’s “sending a 15 year old” as she reaches for Tim’s com line.

Batgirl #24 (2002)

We could stop here for Cassandra’s appearance, since that happened in 1999, between the 1993 issue and the 2002 reference. For completion’s sake, however, let’s note that Robin #116 (2003) is about Tim’s 16th birthday. He forgets about it, so his step-mother throws a surprise party.

Robin #116 (2003)

Okay, so Tim was 15 when Cass appeared at age 17. That puts Bruce at 39, Dick at 24, and Jason at 17 if you’re counting by years elapsed since his birth.

Bruce met his daughter when he was 39 and she was 17, in reference to my original question. Cass is 22 years younger than Bruce, seven years younger than Dick, the same age as Jason, and two years older than Tim.

----------

Dick is adopted

This one, having already established Tim’s timeline, is very simple. Dick was adopted in Gotham Knights #17 (2001).

Gotham Knights #17 (2001)

Again, Tim was 15 from 1993 to 2003, and 2001 falls within that range. Tim was 15, which makes Dick 24 and Bruce 39.

At this point in the timeline, Bruce, a 39 year old, has two adopted children, one of whom is deceased as far as Bruce is concerned. His adopted children are (17) and 24. He has already met two of his future children, Cass and Tim.

----------

This is PART ONE. I’ll reblog Part Two onto this post when I wake up, which should be around the same time this posts.

#PART ONE of two #I'm going to reblog the last 10 pages onto this post as soon as it comes off the queue #timeline #mine #really lame that I can fit 50 pages into a post but then the last10 is too much

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batsandbugs · 3 years

Text

The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 4: The Three Stooges

AN: At least it hasn’t been two months again 😅. Let’s check in with the other batboys and see how they’re handling Damian and Marinette’s chaos.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Tim wondered when his day took a solid dive off the cliffs of normal and into the waters of weird.

It probably started when Dick dragged them out of bed at eight in the morning – on a Saturday – piled them into the car, and drove them an hour and a half out of the city to an IKEA. If they had actually been there to shop they would have either burned the store down or killed one another.

Not that those things were off the table yet.

Tim had work, actual work, that he could be doing. But no, instead he was playing a demented game of hide-and-go-seek, which was careening into an all-out war. The destroyed shelving units, shopping carts, and forklift were unmistakable evidence of that.

How had the demon spawn accomplished this in less than a minute?

Bruce would kill them, once he came back from off-world.

That is if Alfred didn’t get to them first.

“Uh, order 177? Shit, my pay isn't enough for this.”

The words shook Tim from his stupor. He walked over to the counter.

“Hi,” he said, flashing his most charming CEO grin. “I have a quick question?”

The server's fixed smile contrasted with his dull eyes.

“I need to know what way the boy who ordered this headed.”

“No.”

Tim sighed, “Look, it’s important. My brother-”

“I mean, no, it wasn’t a boy.”

Tim paused. “Huh?”

“It was a girl, a teen girl. Black hair, big blue eyes, French accent. She was sitting over there,” he waved at an empty table. “But I think she walked away before that happened.” Referring to the giant train wreck occurring a few aisles over.

“Oh,” said Tim. “Thanks.”

“Do you want the order?”

Tim held back an annoyed sigh.

“Sure.”

So that’s how he, Jason, and Dick, sat at the abandoned picnic table, staring at the abandoned meal bought with Damian’s credit card. Jason grabbed a couple of fries and shoved them in his mouth.

“That’s evidence, nitwit,” hissed Tim.

Jason ignored him, stabbing a meatball with the plastic fork. “What? It’s going to go to waste. Girlie obviously ain’t coming back for it.”

“We should be more worried about how a random girl used Damian’s credit card!”

“She could have stolen it?” offered Dick.

“Demon spawn would have broken her arm before getting pickpocketed,” countered Jason, eating another fry. Silence. A weird glint appeared in Jason's eye. He turned to Tim. “What did you say the girl looked like again?”

“Black hair, blue eyes, French accent.”

“Shit,” muttered Jason.

“What?”

“I think I ran into her earlier, about an hour and a half ago. Asked her if she had run into demon spawn – she sounded confused and tourist-like. But maybe…”

“Maybe she’s working with him?” offered Tim.

“Could be.”

“Damian? Working with another person? A stranger?” Dick shook his head. “Doesn’t sound like him.”

Jason shoved another fry into his mouth. “The brat’s a competitive little shit, if he thought teaming up would help him get ahead, he’d do it in a heartbeat.” He pointed a fry at Tim. “Can you look at the security footage?”

“I’m already two steps ahead of you,” Tim said, flashing his phone with the hacked in security camera footage on-screen. Jason and Dick huddled in close as a small girl walk on screen and stood at the counter.

“Yep, that’s her. Can you ID her, Timmy?”

Tim rolled his eyes, “This is a smartphone, Jay, not a laptop.”

“I thought Mr. World’s Second Greatest Detective would be prepared for anything.”

“Well excuse me for not having facial recognition software, on my phone.”

“Guys chill.”

“Shut up, Dick,” Jason and Tim said in unison.

The footage played out and they watched the girl order two meals and pay with Damian’s credit card. They switched to another camera when she left and sat at the picnic table. A few minutes later Jason and Tim walked into frame.

“Look, there! She tenses. Look at her body language, she’s panicking. She knows who you two are.” Dick looked shocked that, yes, Damian had teamed up with a partner.

They watched the girl panic, although she managed to keep her body from reacting too much. She placed her phone to her ear and walked away from her spot.

“Who is she talking to?”

“Maybe Damian was watching out of sight?”

“Shoot, Tim, she’s out of frame. Do we have another angle?”

It took another minute or so, but Tim found the right security camera catching the mysterious girl leaving the food court. As she walked away the image on the screen flickered, and a moment later the shelving units fell.

“Oh crap,” swore Jason. “Do you think she has magic? Fuck, it would be just our luck if demon spawn teamed up with someone dangerous.”

Dick shook his head. “It could be a coincidence. We didn’t see her do anything. The chaos could have been a coordinated effort between her and Damian.”

Tim wasn’t so sure. “Come on Dick, you’ve been in the game long enough to know just because something looks one way, doesn’t mean it's true.”

They watched the girl hurry out of sight, this time it was much more difficult to follow her progress through the store. She would randomly duck in and out of showrooms, coming out differently than how she came in. If the three boys hadn’t been trained in stealth and detection for years, they would have had a challenging time tracking her.

Jason whistled low. “Who is this chick? I’m impressed. She has serious skill.”

Finally, she ducked into a showroom and didn’t come out. Tim couldn’t find a camera giving them an unobstructed view, but it didn't matter. They had a destination.

“This was ten minutes ago, they could already be long gone,” said Dick.

“Or they could still be hiding there,” countered Jason.

“We’ll find out when we get there.” They walked out of the cafeteria and past the closed aisles. The forklift that had been buried under the collapsed shelving unit was being unearthed by a flock of bewildered employees.

“Ten bucks says she has magic,” said Jason.

“Yeah, no.” Tim was good at math and the odds of everything happening just as she left was too big to be a coincidence. “I’m not stupid enough to take that bet.”

“Come on you guys, let’s focus here,” chided Dick.

Walking back through the showrooms Tim kept an eye out for any sign of his brother or his accomplice, but it was as if they had disappeared into thin air. Arriving at the last location they had spotted the girl, they waited for a touring couple to leave before descending on the tiny, boxed room like the detectives they were trained to be.

It didn’t take long to discover the lasered off vent.

“Shit,” groaned Jason. “They could be anywhere by now.”

“Tim can you-”

Tim had his phone in hand, “I’m already on it. I’ll have the vent layout in a minute.” He felt insulted they even needed to ask.

Jason peered into the vent, “Damn, I think we’re too big to follow.”

Dick sighed. “I miss my vent crawling days; they just don’t make them as big as they used to.”

“That’s what she said,” snickered Jason.

“Focus you two,” Tim snapped. “I’ve pulled up the air duct plans.” He flashed the screen to his two brothers who settled down. “This particular vent runs a couple of places. We have one entrance at the back of the store in the storeroom. Then another veering off near the daycare center, and the last which comes out near the unloading dock.”

“I’ll take the one next to the daycare center,” said Dick. “I’m the only one who isn't demented,” pointing to Jason, “or sleep-deprived,” pointing to Tim.

“Hey!” exclaimed Jason.

Tim sneered, repressing a Damian-like growl, “I wouldn’t be so sleep deprived if you hadn’t dragged us out of the house at eight in the morning. I arrived in from patrol at three.” He hadn’t had coffee in hours, and the weight of his body pressed on him like a panini maker.

Dick ignored them. “Jason can take the one at the loading docks, and Tim you’ll be able to bypass security and get into the back the easiest.”

“Sounds good to me,” grunted Jason.

“Alright,” agreed Tim. “The second any of us spots them, text the group chat, will box them in from there.”

They nodded and headed off their separate ways. Despite the tiredness in Tim's bones, there was a heady rush of the hunt thrumming in his veins. Damian, and whoever he had decided to pair up with, were going down.

Tag List: (Closed, sorry!! I’m so glad you all like it though.)

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ectonurites · 3 years

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can anybody please explain the appeal of tim drake because ive been into the batfamily for a while now and tbh im really confused on why people like his character so much compared to the other robins. like they all have their own thing going on and he just... doesnt?

Have you read his Robin solo? Because if not and you want to try to like him but just don’t understand why people do, that’s what I’d recommend. That and like, Young Justice 1998.

Because Tim definitely... does have his own thing going on. Maybe not in the same way as the others, but like, there’s a reason he has a 183 issue long solo comic that ran for like 16 years: he was fun to read about!

But I will give some more specific thoughts on the subject as a Tim Drake Appreciator™ (this got long im sorry)

The appeal of Tim (especially early on Tim) is kinda the fact that he’s this more normal kid. For a while that is his ‘thing’. He was basically designed to be a self-insert (he definitely became more than that along the way, but from the start he was meant to be relatable) in a different way than how Dick and Jason had been before him.

Like the role of Robin from the start was this way to create a character young readers could identify with more, could see themselves in more. And Dick and Jason did that, but they still had this element to their lives and stories that was more... unattainable for the average reader. Dick was a circus prodigy, Jason was either also a circus prodigy if we remember pre-crisis or if we go with his post-crisis story he’s this street-wise orphaned kid who had a really tough life but still went on to be a hero anyways. Obviously those lives are relatable for some people, but those’re definitely not as broadly recognized as common upbringings especially not by DC trying to market to the ‘average’ kid/young teen.

But the creation of Tim changed the game a bit. Dick and Jason were these aspirations a kid could look to like ‘wow I want to be cool like that!’ but Tim was a Robin designed for kids to look at and go ‘wow, his problems and civilian life are just like mine AND he’s a hero, I want to be cool like that!’, ya know? Tim was... just a clever kid with an average life who managed to connect some dots and had enough drive to want to fix things he saw were a problem, he didn’t have the same kind of heightened drama backstory the others did. The Robins that came after Tim definitely didn’t have this idea of relatability in mind the same way either. Unfortunately Steph’s time as Robin was much more of a marketing ploy than an actual like... decision to make her Robin, so it’s hard to really fit her into this conversation. But Damian from the start was first of all initially created not to be Robin but just as the son of Talia and Bruce back in the 80’s, but when he was later reimagined into the character that would become Robin he had the whole ‘raised by and is the heir to the league of assassins and is the son of batman’ thing going on still. He just was not supposed to be relatable that same way, he was a character designed with different things in mind.

I really think it was more just DC’s 90′s era younger-audience comics in general that tried to push that relatability thing (like in YJ how Cissie even after quitting the team stays a major character as a civilian throughout, and the civilian aspect that’s super present in Bart’s 90s solo too, etc), but later in the 2000’s that idea was definitely pushed to the side in favor of... putting in even more dramatic superhero-y stuff.

And the other thing that’s... such a more normal thing but it actually made him unique here, was that Tim’s dad was still alive until like 2004 (so 15 years into Tim being around as a character). This gave Tim a lot more typical ‘family school girlfriends normal life etc’ problems on top of/in contrast with his superhero problems. These just manifested in very different ways than they could with the other Robins because of that unique situation with a living civilian parent who doesn’t know about hero stuff (until he did find out which lead to that whole Unmasked thing, but there was only the brief time around War Games & Identity Crisis where Jack knew Tim was actively Robin and he was... still alive) Tim also had his life at school expanded way more than most other Robins, like, he had such an extended supporting cast of civilian friends which is a really interesting thing to read about (and the fact that he hasn’t had that stuff since the New 52 I think really hurts his character)

And then related to that loss of his dad... Personally another thing about Tim that really interests me is how a lot of things were more... his choice. if that makes sense. A lot of characters in the Batfamily were struck with tragedy/extreme trauma before they became heroes and that’s what spurred them into this life of becoming heroes. Tim’s situation wasn’t like that at all! When he first got involved in everything during Lonely Place of Dying, the only tragedy he’d experienced was watching Dick’s tragedy happen. Which sure yes traumatic obviously, but that’s not the same as how pretty much all the other Bats had gone through these very personal losses or other sorts of very first-hand personal traumas that served as motivators. Tim didn’t start to experience those things until after he got involved in the hero life, and aside from his Mom’s death which was more of just an unrelated incident (that technically happened before he was officially Robin but it was during his time training to become Robin), pretty much all these other tragedies and things... would not have happened or been experienced by him had he not become Robin.

That’s not me placing blame on him or anything like that, because god no that’s not how that works, but it’s very interesting because from his point of view he definitely feels that guilt because he knows him being Robin played a role in a lot of it (Thinking specifically about in Adventure Comics #3 when Kon even says “I know what guilt does to you” to him like it’s... it’s a thing with him!). His dad was murdered because he was Robin. He only met Steph and started dating her through being Robin, and thus he would not have experienced the loss of his girlfriend dying like that had he not been Robin. Tim met both Conner and Bart through being Robin, and would not have had a personal connection to them when they died otherwise. The whole Bruce’s death thing after Final Crisis, like. I could go on honestly, that was only talking about losses not even his own experiences nearly getting killed, but yeah, all these personal tragedies were experienced by him specifically because he chose to bring himself into this life, which I think in turn plays into how throughout his comics you see him go from having this really optimistic view on things and being really hopeful to seeing him at that low point he reaches by the time of Red Robin. (thinking about that one post that points out how Tim started out in the 90′s as an optimist and Steph a cynic and by the time they were Red Robin and Batgirl in 2009 they had switched outlooks...)

I also think that him having had such a great team book with the original Young Justice can help contribute to people liking him. His friendships with the rest of the core four and that team in general are really compelling. (and that’s something like again when looking at the other Robins, while Dick had the Titans ofc, Jason never really found footing with a team outside of like one mission with the Titans and then We All Know How Damian’s Teen Titans Stuff Went. Steph also only ever really worked with a team outside the batfam on very brief occasions) and even though I’m not as big of a fan of the 2003 Teen Titans run that came after YJ, people who read Young Justice and also that could follow and be attached to those same characters over a pretty decently long period of time.

Idk man, I don’t really have an ultimate point here i’m just rambling. I can definitely understand not seeing the appeal to him right away (honestly i’ve been into Batfam since like 2013/2014 and Tim did not become one of my faves until 2020) especially if like... idk when you say ‘into the batfamily’ that can mean a lot of different things. If you’re reading more like the bigger events with the batfam sure Tim can kinda fade into the bg a bit, if you’re more talking about fanon the fanon version of him is prettyyyyy uhhhhh not really the same as how he was in pre New 52 canon, if you’re mainly reading New 52 era Batfam stuff then that Tim I also don’t understand the appeal of bc thats Not My Boy, if you’re interested in a different member primarily and only familiar with Tim when he shows up in things focused on that other character then it’s easy to not really understand the appeal right away bc he’s more there to support that character rather than shine in his own right.

I think it’s also worth mentioning he’s just not everybody’s cup of tea, and that’s totally fine. Like, these are fictional characters and sometimes you just will vibe with a character and sometimes you won’t! idk if this helped at all or even made sense. but yeah. I just think he’s neat 😌

#Anonymous

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htmlerror · 3 years

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☕ + wfa

i do not like wfa with ham, i do not like it, sam i am.

I have a lot of problems with Wayne Family Adventures. The idea for it is solid enough, but the execution is. bad. I've put my thoughts below the cut because this got long, so I hope you don't mind me going in depth on my feelings.

Duke Thomas as a POV character - I'm plagerizing heavily from my convo with @phamtai about this. Def check them out for more info and better insights than mine into the character. Duke is extremely well established in canon despite only having been around for a decade or so. Remarkably, it's taken until WFA to butcher his character. Duke in this series is too polite. He's too clueless. He's been presented as the Relatable Kid archetype that he doesn't fit. In canon, Duke has never not been self-assured. He's a relatable character, yes, but not because he doesn't know what's going on. He has experience as a hero long before the batfam became involved. And since then, he's bonded with them. WFA doesn't show his connection with Cass, his dynamic with Bruce or Jason, and completely ignores his conflicts with the family. In a supposedly family-focused product, those are damn near cardinal sins. He may as well be a totally new character. Duke has been watered down so much for the sake of this series. WFA could be a vessel to explore so many things about him that we don't see a lot of on the regular page. We could see a dive into the parallels between him and Bruce, the full psychological impact of losing his parents, epecially in contrast to Jason, how his world view and morals differ from Batman's, the daily consequences of his powers, or the fallout of his mourning independently for the friends he's lost. But those would be interesting angles WFA doesn't seem eager to explore. If you can't imagine a version Duke punching a cop just because they're a fucking cop, you're doing it wrong. Another issue is, unfortunately, Duke's role as the only Black batman member. I shouldn't need to explain why it's problematic to be showing his as constantly less knowledgeable and presumably skilled as the other bats. (No, it doesn't matter that Dick and Damian are drawn with dark skin. Dick has been written as a white man for nearly his entire existence. The person who retconned that is notoriously racist and has spent years defending her inclusion of sexual assault in her writing. I have no issue with Dick being Romani, but just changing the color of his skin is not the way to do it.) DC has recently had a push towards inclusion, on the page an behind the scenes. This is good, of course. Though if they really are committed to representation and inclusion, it needs to be an effort seen across the board. Faux pas like this paint a pretty obvious picture.

The Webtoon format is shit - Webtoon is a great platform for indie writers and artists. It's not my style of content, but I get the appeal. IMO, it's ridiculous to accept a professional comic publisher shitting out 12 page fluff pieces. Yes, the weekly comic format has been phased out for a reason. Yes, halving the workload is a possible way around that restriction. But there just isn't a good enough reason to do it. It's a pretty obvious ploy to seem "hip" and "get in with kids these days." It's lazy and frankly kind of embarrassing. For anyone who doesn't know, a standard comic book is usually 24-28 pages. This isn't an arbitrary number, it's part of the format for the art form. That length allows for necessary plot developments in a serial story line while also giving the characters, themes, and artwork time to breathe. Furthermore, it's what most comic readers have come to expect over the decades. Halving that wouldn't necessarily be a problem, there are plenty of examples of well made shorts out there, but coupling that WFA's love affair with single panels and splash pages is a major issue. Say you make a 12 page comic with 4-6 panels per page. You have 48-72 panels to work with. You can sit a compelling story into that, with or without heavy dialogue. But bring that down to 12-24 panels, and you have one of two options: either 1) ultra-compress your narrative or 2) reduce the plot to compensate. Ignoring the formatting choices, WFA is a convenient reason for DC to keep the worst of the status quo in the bat titles. There's no need to acknowledge criticism of Bruce's treatment of his family when they can simply point and say "Jason's throat hasn't been sliced open here! And look, Damian hasn't been left with the crushing guilt of his grandfather's death! We even let Tim exist as his own character!" WFA doesn't change anything, it shows that DC is aware of its problems but would rather outsource them than put in the work to fix it. There's a special kind of rejected feeling that comes with being told "I hear you, I just don't care.

Fandom isn't bad, but - Everyone is familiar with the incorrect quotes format by now. Sometimes they're funny, most of the time they tend to over-saturate. WFA is like if a incorrect batfam quotes blog was a comic. It's a steady supply of one-liners and references, sure, but it lacks any real substance. If that's what you like, I can't fault you for it, but it's not going to be everyone's cup of tea. The way the batfandom has piled onto the "this is the best thing ever" bandwagon is concerning to me. There has been good batfam content in canon, you just need to know where to look for it. The lack of critical analysis of the project and dismissal of critiques is always an alarming pattern, but the way WFA has come to be the odd face of the fandom is just bizarre. It's everywhere, as you know if you've ever tried avoiding it. Thinking about WFA being the default interpretation of these characters makes me nervous. They lack the depth their canon counterparts. I don't care if you enjoy WFA, I do understand the appeal of it, but for the love of the gods, take it down from it's pedestal.

WFA is... fine. It's yet to commit any sins too egregious, but, like all DC properties, it's a ticking timebomb. I won't be surprised when it goes off, and I can't say I'll be sad to see it go. Ao3 has better content, anyway

#asks #anon #wfa #wayne family adventures #batman #batfam #duke thomas #long post

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miss-choco-chips · 3 years

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Umm... I was wondering if you could Maybe do a follow up on your mini fic Last Line from dicks pov? It gave me alot of feelings and i would love to see the fallout?

Your work is really good! Its so cool how your brave enough to put pieces of yourself out there for other people!

Hey babe! Thank you for your kind words! It made me smile getting this, you are very sweet <3

I totally forgot about Last Line lol, but when I saw it reminded me that I actually wrote a bit more of it, both before and after the scene I posted. So, this isn’t exactly what you asked, but here’s some backstory and then the fallout!

---.---

Four years old, and he watches the red string on his finger pulled taunt towards the crying boy, the color of the thread well disguised among the red blood of the murdered acrobats.

Nine, and he watches from the shadows as it swings right and left, following Robin’s pirouettes from building to building. The thread, that usually goes a few feet before ‘vanishing’ from sight, was almost completely visible now, at such a short distance from the person holding onto its other end.

He’s on his twelve when he tries to explain to Dick the importance of him going back home. He wasn’t sure of his success, even though the older hero took him to the manor, because during his whole speech, Nightwing hadn’t looked up from the red joining them together. It wasn’t exactly how Tim wanted him to find out, but… Batman needed a Robin, and he was out of options.

At fourteen, he feels Kon’s hand clenching on his shoulder, as they both watch from the side how Nightwing swept Barbara off her feet and twisted her around, laughter falling from both their lips even as Dick thread’s end was pointing towards Tim. The third Robin didn’t turn to look at his best friend, didn’t meet Bart’s eyes or react to Cassie taking his hand on hers. He just made sure his face was perfectly devoid of any emotion when he muttered, low enough only a kryptonian would hear, ‘I wish it was any of you’.

(A few nights later, when he and Conner were sitting quietly on the Tower’s roof, the clone took Tim’s hand with his own, his lack of red string blatantly obvious as he said ‘If I had any, I wish it could be you’. To this day, it’s the sweetest thing anyone ever said to him)

He is so, so tired, and he’s only sixteen. But keeping up with the shitfest that was the Battle for the Cowl, helping Dick while ignoring his red string (pulling him towards Nightwing, now Batman, stark contrast against the dark of his suit, with distracting insistency), dealing with Damian’s abuse as expected of him as the ‘mature, older brother’, coping with Bruce’s death, the shock of Dick throwing him, his soulmate, away so so easily…

(Shouldn't be surprising; Dick had been discarding him in favor of others since they met, shamelessly displaying his various relationships in front of him with an attitude that might be called cruel from anyone else but that just earned him playful shoves from other Leaguers while Tim was expected to swallow his pain, because a red string isn’t a promise, Dick is free… and yes, he knows that, but it doesn’t mean shit to his dying heart)

(Maybe, when he left for proof of Bruce being alive, it wasn’t so much for his old mentor than it was for himself)

----.----

Tim is seventeen and halfway across the world, looking at the string attached to his hand that never truly meant anything to any other than him (not to Bruce, who never took Dick aside and talked to him about consideration with his soul mate; not Dick's conquers, who never gave a fuck about the red string in the hands that touched their skin, even when a lot of them knew who was on the other end of it; not Dick himself, who after asking every thing out of Tim and having it, forcefully took the one thing Tim wouldn't give by choice and claimed Tim was his equal, his soulmate, so he never could be his sidekick... even if it was the first time ever that Dick even mentioned the string tying them both together), when he thinks 'you were always free; now, I'm freeing myself’.

He gingerly bites on the string, and with his other hand takes a handful of it and pulls.

The pain piercing his heart is expected, but not new. He had been feeling it since the first time he saw Dick's back as he walked away with someone else.

He times it carefully, too. He doesn't think Dick would care, but just in case, Tim waits until it's morning in Gotham, when he's sure Dick is probably sleeping after patrol.

Maybe he would wake up without noticing

---.---

In Gotham, Dick is carried by Alfred and Damian to the cave, when the new Batman's screams of pain woke everyone in the Manor up. They are suspecting cardiac arrest, and then Dick looks down to his hand and notices the string, always tense, signaling him where his north is, where Tim is, laying loose and lifeless.

He panics, asks Superman to track Tim down or something, and when the man confirms Tim is still alive somewhere in the Middle East, he knows.

And like a freight train, the parting words Kori told him the last time they saw each other hit him right in the chest.

"He isn't going to wait for you forever"

----.-----

When Tim does come back, at nineteen, it’s a quiet thing.

He spent the last how many days carefully setting his systems up, making sure his mainframe would outstand Oracle’s scrutiny when she realized he was back in town and tried to hack her way into his life.

(He didn’t blame her, of course not. Dick was charming enough, good enough, anyone he set his eyes into would be helpless to nothing but fall in his arms.

And, wasn’t Tim the one who would have been intruding, had he tried to chase after the first Robin? Everyone knew he and the original Batgirl were a perfect match, thousands of times better than Tim, whom Fate just wanted to screw over.

But not anymore)

The first thing he did, once the safe houses were chosen and his programs up and running, was to ruthlessly hack into the Batcomputer and take a look at patrol routes.

He would need to keep clear of Diamond District and Old Gotham, least he risked crossing paths with B and R. The Financial and City Hall Districts were apparently Batgirl’s playground for the night, and if he wanted to drop by and let Cass know he was back, he could always search for her by the Upper West Side down to Chinatown.

He would avoid the Upper East Side like the plague, though. Maybe Coventry too, just to be safe. Lots of skintight blue in that direction.

Which left… Crime Alley, the Bowery and Burnley, mainly. He needn't check to know who’s house that was.

And that’s how he ended, on his very first night back on the streets, dragging Red Hood’s bleeding ass away from a blowing up building.

-----.-----

Apparently, saving a recently rehabilitated murderous vigilante was a bonding experience, because Jason didn’t kick him out of his side of town, nor tell on him.

He couldn't, however, do anything to prevent the criminal gossip mile from spreading, and before a week had passed, half the city was aware of the new player on the board.

-----.------

Jason was taking a breather, smoking while sitting on his favorite rooftop, when the rustling sound of fabric told him his peace and quiet was over.

“I thought you were back at being N”, he greeted, not bothering to turn around or get up.

“B was out of town, and Robin needed someone to watch over him during patrol.”

A quick glance around had Hood snorting, “Then y’re doing a shitty job. Don’t see the midget anywhere.”

It would never NOT be weird to hear a strangled laugh coming out of the Bat suit, as tight and humorless as it was now. It seemed big ol Dick wasn’t doing so great tonight.

“Batgirl took him to a party in Diamond District. Gang war.”

He humms in response, not bothering to keep on the smalltalk. N, no, B was here for something, and it wasn’t Jason’s job to ask it out of him; if it was important, he would do it himself.

“Where is him, Hood?”, he finally went to the heart of the matter.

Jason tilted his head, still looking over his city, unmindful of the steps coming closer to his position, “Robin? Ya just said it, B. Going senile? Gang war, wasn’t it?”

“Don’t play around. You know I mean…”

Oh, yeah, Dickie still wasn’t sure what to call Timbo. Criminal gossip only went so far, for someone who didn’t bother to shout his hero name to everyone he beat up. It was very possible only Jason was aware of his new monicker. All gothamites knew was a young vigilante showed up recently, wearing red and black and hanging out with the Hood, which immediately upped his street rep to ‘not to be fucked with’.

“Lil red?”, he completed for his older brother, feeling both charitable and petty. Batman’s wince was more evident by the rustling sound of his cape; he had hit a sore spot, hadn’t he?

“Where? I’m not asking again.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not answering. Must be ‘roundere somewhere, the little creep.”

“Hood, I’m running out of patience.”

“And I’m out of cigarettes, your point? I don’t have him on a leash asshole. We just share the same hunting space, it’s not like we go home together and do face masks while we talk about feelings.”

They did go to a safespot, though, and share beer and pizza while cursing their relatives and Fate as a whole, but it wasn’t necessary information for the fucker. He just breathed in the last of his smoke before dropping the cigarette butt and stepping on it, stretching as he did.

“Now, any more of this riveting conversation, or can I go? No, wait, it was a rhetorical question; get out of my part of town, ass. I’ve been plenty generous by letting you come this far, but our truce lasts as long as the lot of you don’t build any sandcastles on my playground and you know it. Now, scram.”

He could feel Dick’s reticence at leaving without what he came here for, but Oracle must be talking him into letting it be for tonight, because he didn't push. Jason turned just in the right moment to catch the way Dick looked down to his gloved hand, as if expecting the lifeless red string to be pulled taunt in Tim’s direction by some miracle. Jason felt the smallest ping of pity, quickly washed away by the memory of the younger hero’s haunted eyes as he told Jason the story of his severed soul bond and how he came to do it.

Thirty seconds after the bat vanished into the night, a little red bird landed softly on the spot next to him.

“Thanks, Hood”, he muttered, just as tired and hurting as he’d been ever since he saved Jason’s ass and they became partners, but with the smallest hint of lightness that made him prouder of driving Dick away than he’d ever been.

“Don’t mention it, but fair warning, the big B scomin back home in a few days, and he’s harder to kick out than a hurting, annoying bluebird.”

“I know”, Tim sighed, well aware of both facts. “I’ll play it by ear. For tonight, what about bashing some skulls and ruining Two Face’s new op? Good intel says it’s just a few blocks from here, and shattering bones always makes you smile.”

“Babybird, you speak the language of love.”

“Wasn’t that french?”

“I’m trying to compliment you, don’t be a smart ass about it.”

“I am smart, and I do have a good ass. That seems like an impossible request.”

----.----

#ask #last line #dicktim #but not #soulmate au #red string au #angst #tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #red robin #nightwing #red hood #jason is a good bro #dick sucks as a soulmate #bruce is gonna be confused as fuck when he comes back #my writting #my writing

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