#in an intentional mirror of how Bruce’s parents are killed??? like I can do SO MUCH with that actually

[arbitrarycategories]

Spending too much time on ao3… gonna snap and write a reverse robins au where Duke gets picked up first. I can play fast and loose with the ages and make this sooo good

[thr-333]

Drastic Measures- Part 5

@daminette-december2019-2020

~Sweater~

Shoves romance to the side and shoves friendship in your face!!!

Ao3

First< Previous > Next

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“Marinette,” Adrien whines as she opens the curtain the second they get back, “Sleep,”

“Just a minute, I want to design Damian something,” Marinette takes up residence at the desk, throwing open her sketchbook, “I will be friends with him!”

“Wasn't he kind of a jerk to you?” Adrien flops onto the bed, Plagg rig after him, "I think we should go back to that point, maybe sleep on it,"

“You were a jerk too~” Marinette sing-songs finishing up a rough sketch of a sweater.

“I was trying to get the gum off your seat!” Adrien slams his hands down.

“Sure you were~”

“Mariiiiiii,” Adrien collapses back into the bed covers, muffling his whining.

“Come on you,” Marinette collects her sketchbook, “Come get material with me,”

“No, it’s time to sleep,”

“It’s midday,”

“Your point?”

"Ok, Plagg 2.0 should I get you some camembert while I'm out too?"

"I'm up!" Adrien sits bolt upright, "Never call me that again,"

Marinette ends up dragging Adrien out of the mansion he pouts as Alfred delivers them into the city she thanks him profusely.

“We were just in the city why didn’t you pick up fabric then?” Adrien walks by her side down the street.

“Because I’m stuck between 2 concepts and I need to see the fabric before going forward,” Marinette bounces along looking through the windows there are quite a few craft shops in the area which suits her just fine.

“Please don’t run off,” Adrien gently holds her sleeve, “Marinette this city…”

“It’s filled with a dark energy,” Marinette agrees, even in this nicer area had something ominous hanging over it, “It’s like it’s seeped into the city’s very bones,”

“And the Akuma aren’t helping things,” A child across the street starts crying and they both instinctively lookout.

“On the plus side at least hawkmoth doesn't send Akuma after every little thing,” Marinette forces herself to relax, moving on as the kids parents comfort them.

“On the downside, he sends them after emotions that are a lot worse,” Adrien follows along into a store as Marinette filters through the shelves.

“Maybe but we can handle this,” Marinette absent-mindedly raises her fist, meeting Adreins, “Do you think I should make something for everyone, you know as a thank you?”

“I haven't gotten them anything,” Adrien takes the armful of fabric Marinette passes him as she brings out her sketchbook to select old designs.

“I’ll handle the making,” Marinette ticks off a vest she thinks with be perfect for Bruce, “And you handle the finances,”

“I stole my father's credit card,” Adrien says with a grin, “He’ll probably find out where I am soon anyway so might as well start using it,”

“In that case,” Marinette pulls out a roll of incredibly expensive fabric, “We also need new phones,”

“And we should go out for lunch,”

“Get our hair done?” Marinette adds, looking at her half hacked off hair “I still need to fix mine from this,”

“I was thinking our room could use a chair?”

“And the bookshelf is looking a bit empty,”

“A nice expensive rug would really liven up the room,”

“Would it be completely inappropriate to get a motorcycle?”

“Yes,” Adrien agrees, “Let's do it,”

They stop to get new phones first, having destroyed their old ones when they ran away. Adrien finds the most expensive restaurant in town, but it's on the far end so they stop to get a motorcycle first.

“I didn’t know you could ride,” Adrien gestures for the waiter in their private room, “Yes can I please have the duck?”

“My Nona taught me,” Marinette sips at the most expensive drink she can legally buy, “I thought you hated duck?”

“Oh I do,” Adrien grins, which drops when his phone starts ringing, “How did he even get this number?”

Marinette looks over his shoulder to see Gabriel trying to call. Adrien purposefully hangs up rolling his eyes.

“We should go do our hair next,” Adrien leans over the table with a manic grin, ”I was thinking of dying it hot pink,”

“Love the concept,” Marinette cringes at the very thought, “But the execution is flawed, you need to dye it a color you actually like not one just to spite your father otherwise he's still just controlling your life, just in a different way,”

“You're right,” Adrien sighs leaning back examining his blonde locks, “What do you think?”

“A nice pastel or cherry blossom pink would look amazing,” Adrien perks up at the suggestion he can still keep the pink, “Actually I might do that too- oh wait! Will that affect our transformation?”

“Not unless you really want to deep down,” Tikki explains, her and Plagg gorging themselves on expensive cheese and treats.

“Well deep down I really don't want to give away our identities like this,”

“It’s a plan then,” Adrien smiles, “Now do you want to order anything else?”

“Thanks but I’m full,”

“What's that got to do with anything?”

 ---

 “Looks great Nette,” Adrien gives her a side hug, the hairdresser shooing him away while he does the final touch-ups.

“Are you talking to me or yourself?” Marinette smiles at the new and improved shock of pink hair.

“Well obviously I look fabulous, but you look great too,” Marinette rolls her eyes at him looking back in the mirror. Instead of evening out her hair, they had made it look like her little episode was actually intentional giving it nice layers and even doing an undercut on the other side. Unlike Adrien, she didn't go all pink, instead the tips being white ombre up to pink and then her natural hair color.

“Thanks, you have to send a picture of your hair to Nino he's more invested in your teenage rebellion than you are, he’s probably also hurt you left him out of the running away part,”

“He has suggested, more than once, running away together,”

“Why what's wrong with Nino's family?”

“Nothing at all,” Adrien quickly covers, “I think he just really wanted me to run away, his mum offered to pack us lunches,”

“Well, maybe we could have used the turtle,” Marinette sighs, “But I could do that to Nino, you already had to leave Kagami behind, have you given her a call yet?”

“Oh um, about that-" Adrien points at her tapping his chin thoughtfully, "Never mention it again,”

“Adrien,” Marinette scowls, “Call your girlfriend,”

“She’ll kill me,” Adrien hides partly behind a seat looking meek, “Also you don't get to lecture me, you haven't called your parents,”

“That's different,” Marinette groans sinking into the seat, only to get told off for moving, “They’ll want me to come home, how am I supposed to explain that I can’t,”

“They’re your parents,” Adrien stresses, “I’m sure they’ll be happy enough to know your ok,”

“Maybe,” Marinette hums, the cloth being removed from her shoulders letting her get up, “I just feel so bad for putting them through this,”

“Maybe one day they’ll understand,” Adrien walks with her to the front to pay.

“Maybe,” Marinette looks down at the bill, “Wow this is a lot more expensive than the usual dye job,”

Made sense because they were in the higher income distinct of the city.

“Why Marinette,” Adrien grins swiping the card, “That's the point,”

Ten minutes later they were laughing as calls kept pouring in one after the other. They are only interrupted when they get the distinct feeling of an Akuma.

“Duty calls,” Adrien sighs putting his phone on silent.

“Seems so, at least we can call out skills multiple times," Marinette walks casually into an alley with him, “What are you up to?”

“About three,” Adrien shrugs transforming, “It takes about double the time for the transformation to drop now,”

“Same, wish I could say that gives us the edge but really it only keeps us from falling off the cliff,” Marinette also transforms, her new costume bringing a smile to her face.

“How eloquent my lady,” Marinette playfully pushes him, Chat catches himself catapulting over the building, she quickly follows behind.

The Akuma is standard, Marinette guesses the akumatized item is the wrist watch. The problem comes with their recurring thorn in her side.

“Ladybug-”

“Get out of the city,” She cuts Batman off, “Yeah, yeah let us handle this first,”

Marinette throws her yoyo out just in time to deflect an attack headed at Chat.

“Do you need any help?” Robin asks, Marinette smiles, partly at the aghast face Batman makes.

“Do you think you could tag-team it with me?” She asks formulating a plan, with the extra help she might not need the lucky charm, “Make your attacks big and draw his attention, grab the wristwatch if you can,”

“On it,” Robin gives her a nod jumping into the fray, Ladybug doesn't give batman a chance to object running after.

Robin does a good job they work in perfect sync falling back when the other moves to make an attack. When the Akuma focuses on them too much Chat swoops in and gets their attention giving them the chance to swipe at the wristwatch. It goes on she sees Robin get thrown back after another failed swipe at the wristwatch. Ladybug takes the chance to move forward grabbing for the wrist, she isn't watching out for the other arm, the impact hitting and sending her flying back.

“I got you,” Her momentum is stopped by a hand bracing at her back, saving her from crashing into the adjacent building.

“Thanks, Robin,” He helps steady her as she finds her footing again, “I’ll move in you follow me up,”

“No need,” He smirks brandishing the watch.

“You did it,” Ladybug beams, taking the watch and smashing it to the ground, “Great job!”

“Ah, thanks,” Ladybug doesn't pay attention to how Robin brushes, focusing on purifying the Akuma and fixing the damage.

“We made a pretty good team,” Ladybug turns to Robin when everything is settled, “Pound it,”

Robin meets her fist with some hesitance, which disappears when she smiles at him again.

“Ladybug!” Batman yells heading their way.

“Ops sorry,” Ladybug cringes, “Sorry! Cant stop gotta go, bye bye!”

They run from the scene faster than Batman can hope to catch them. They end up back at her newly brought bike stacked with fabric and protected by a bit of luck. Marinette races home to make everyone's gifts, knowing just who she wanted to start with.

 ---

 “There you are!” Marinette exclaims, having spent the past half hour searching the manor for him.

“What do you want?” Damian snaps as if he wasn't just playing with the cat on the floor half a second ago.

“Nothing, I made something for you~” He continues to scowl but Marinette doesn't let it discourage her, “Here, I didn’t know your size so I made a baggier style, do you like it?”

Damian takes the sweater holding it up to where she put it on him looking down a little shocked. Marinette almost wants to laugh at the expressions trying to shift back from awe to disinterest, it’s cute. She smiles wondering what his face would look like if she made a matching one for the cat, and maybe Titus too.

“.... It’s well made,” Damian eventually allows, folding it over his arm, Marinette notices how his fingers linger on the soft fabric.

“Good to know,” She smiles, bidding him goodbye before the moment can be ruined. She bounces down the hall humming to herself.

“Someone's happy,” Tikki flies out of her bag.

“He liked it, why wouldn't I be happy?”

“Someones really happy,”

“Stop it Tikki,” Marinette giggles, making the kwami laugh in turn.

“Just like adrien~” Tikki sing songs floating down the hall ahead of her.

“Well then, keep Kagami far away from this one,”

“Don’t turn into a stuttering mess and we have a deal,” Tikki agrees.

“Please Tikki I’m not thirteen anymore,” Marinette brushes her off, ready to go make the others gifts, if she spent the whole time humming to herself Tikki wasn't going to explain why to Adrien.

---------

Taglist? nope don’t have one, horrible at keeping track of them sorry~

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

Hi! I’m a big fan of your work!! I am looking for more but unfortunately I feel like I have read all yhe good Harry Potter docs on Ao3. Do you have any recs?

Sorry for the delay, I just know that whenever I make rec list it usually ends up taking a while.

With that, Harry Potter fics are a big genre. Just saying Harry Potter in general really isn’t that specific to me so this is across genres/character focuses/you name it.

Also, as usual, I’ve been on fanfiction longer and have amassed more favorites there. Some of these are cross posted to Ao3. Similarly, a lot are unfinished, this personally doesn’t bother me but if it bothers you take heed.

Also, you’ll see my embarrassing obsession with Tom Riddle. So, heads up for that.

Stepbrother (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, period piece, in which the two remind me a lot of Nabokov)

Cat Among the Pigeons (Tom Riddle/Lily Evans, Psycho-Pass Detective AU, in which I am a beta actually so my promoting this goes without saying)

Til Death Do Us Part (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Voldemort wins AU, which for me does very well with the concept of immortality and what exactly Tom is supposed to do after he wins)

This Tangle of Thorns (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, modern AH AU, a full on Nabokov inspired fic which I enjoy because Lolita)

Delusional (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, sort of. Harry wins the war, goes crazy, checks into a mental hospital. Or he’s not crazy and Voldemort is as unkillable as Palpatine.)

Harry Potter and the Natural 20 (OC insert, D&D inspired, shameless crack. I mostly enjoy the beginning of this but it makes me laugh enough to recommend.)

A Hairy Business (AU, Harry is a deer, he is literally a deer, that’s it. It’s funny.)

Animus, Anima (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry travels back in time, gets stuck in Tom Riddle’s brain, and it turns out Harry’s responsible for every terrible thing that ever happened. This one was squicky even for me, very well done, but strap in.)

Addendum, He is Also a Liar (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, Tom has an inexplicable ability to travel to the future, but only to this random little girl Hermione Granger)

Framed & Fractured (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry gets stuck in an evil painting back in time. Tom is creepy as usual.)

Trying for Eden (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry travels back in time to lecture Tom into morality. It doesn’t work.)

Magical Mirrors (Luna Lovegood and Severus Snape, Luna and Snape stumble on the Mirror of Erised at the same time and strike up a conversation)

Aphelion (Hermione Granger/Loki, MCU crossover, Hermione and Loki strike up the world’s weirdest toxic friendship when Hermione’s young and attending Hogwarts, this leads terrible places as Loki slides into madness and despair)

Wandering Souls (Luna Lovegood and The Undertaker, Black Butler crossover, Luna meets and strikes up a conversation with the Undertaker)

Of Lies Most Beautiful (Tom Riddle, Hunger Games crossover, Tom wins the Hunger Games becaues that’s what he does bitch)

In Wonderland (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry ends up back in the past and decides to raise Tom Riddle. This goes so poorly that the pair almost get eaten by eldritch gods multiple times.)

Rumpelstiltskin, Guess My Name (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Female Harry travels back in time and offers to save Merope’s life/get her Tom Riddle Sr. the non rapey way in return for her firstborn son. Merope thought Harry was joking. She wasn’t joking. In the sequel, also linked, Harry kills Morfin.)

The Eyes (Harry Potter, AU, turns out “the power he knows not” is the power humanity knows not, Harry’s ability to see eldritch abominations and cosmic gods and thus bring them far enough into our reality that they eat everything. And I mean everything.)

Mirror Mirror (Harry Potter, MCU crossover, Harry makes a huge mistake and stops Hulk in the middle of a rampage. This gets him abducted by octopus nazis.)

I See the Moon (Harry Potter and Bruce Banner, MCU crossover, Harry got brain damage from the war and wanders around the middle of nowhere. He runs into Bruce. He’s now Bruce’s only friend.)

You Will Be the Death of Me (Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, Despicable Me inspired, through a series of convoluted events Tom as the world’s worst father figure ends up raising Harry the sad adorable orphan.)

In Death, Standby (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter (sort of, the authro claims), Tom raises Harry, the only Tom raises Harry that I’ve seen done well because Tom is the world’s worst father. Harry thinks he’s a deformed snake until the age of three.)

Little Harry’s Mirkwood Adventure (Harry Potter and Dudley Dursley, Hobbit Crossover, one of the most Tolkien style crossovers I’ve actually seen and is very good)

A (Self-Imposed) Trap for a Fool (Ginny Weasley, turns out Harry Potter never existed, as in he’s a collective hallucination made up by the entire wizarding world)

McLaggen and From McLaggen with Love (McLaggen, a detective AU then a James Bond style adventure starring McLaggen, the greatest wizard who ever wizarded)

Tom Riddle’s Diary: on keeping devils in the summer (Tom Riddle, Tom Riddle’s antichrist orphan adventures involving exorcism and burning people alive)

and the fates sing (hold on, son) (Harry Potter, MCU crossover, Harry is the son of Loki and like all children of Loki he is a wretched and cursed thing)

A Faulty Master (Harry Potter and Itachi Uchiha, Naruto crossover, Itachi after the massacre of his family has a run in with a master of death Harry, who is a creepy creepy man)

Eye of Reason (Harry Potter/Jack Frost, Rise of the Guardians crossover, due to the mythos surrounding his life Harry ceases to be a man and becomes akin to a god)

Flowers for a Ghost (Luna Lovegood and Itachi Uchiha, Naruto Crossover, Luna befriends a blind ghost)

Third Time’s the Charm (Harry Potter, MCU crossover, Bruce Banner keeps trying to kill himself and MoD Harry is there to have himself a real good day)

Blind Faith (Bellatrix LeStrange/Tom Riddle, canon compliant, an in depth look at Bellatrix from the escape of Azkaban onward)

Cocktail Time (Rita Skeeter and Gilderoy Lockhart, Rita does an expose and autobiography detailing the descent of Gilderoy Lockhart and how he became what he became)

Fantastic Elves and Where to Find Them (Harry Potter, canon divergent AU, Harry thinks he’s an elf. That’s it.)

The Twine Bracelet (Colin Creevy, a look at Colin’s death) 

Legal Alien (Harry Potter, MCU crossover, Harry visits New York and an alien invasion breaks out. Culminates with the best, dumb, joke.)

The Root of Desire (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, Hermione travels back in time and tries to influence Tom. All this does is inspire his sexual awakening.)

Deadheads (Harry Potter/Godric Gryffindor, a romantic comedy of a kind, culminating in the best dumbest joke)

Give and Take (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, Hermione tries to outwit Tom, it ends in despair)

The Road to Somewhere (Harry Potter, Spirited Away crossover, Harry as MoD is in the realm of the spirits)

Absolute (Harry Potter, Harry picks up a death note, he kills everyone)

Fortunate Son (Dudley Dursleys, years afterwards Dudley looks back and writes a memoir and expose about the abuse inflicted on his cousin)

Elective Affinities (Severus Snape/Harry Potter, Harry travels back in time to discover his parents are assholes and things are more complicated than he imagined)

Juxtaposed (Bod, Graveyard Book crossover, Bod attends Hogwarts)

The Fire Omens (Tom Riddle and a look at WWII)

Broken Toys (Tom Riddle and his useless broken toys)

The Fine Art of Poisoning (Madame Zabini)

A Marriage of Convenience (Pansy and Theo get married)

Reparabilis (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Tom becomes a professor, he still destroys Harry Potter)

The Unforgivable Curses (Draco Malfoy, a look at the 4th year unforgivable lecture with Moody and the Slytherins)

Ugly (Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy one sided Dudley/Harry Potter, Dudley’s fat, ugly, and creeps on his cousin)

Three Can Keep a Secret (Harry Potter, on secrets and secret keeping)

Caveat Incimici (Hermione Granger, on Hermione and her terrifying wrath)

Babylon (Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, Harry never gets rid of Tom)

Wonderful Tragic Mysterious (Luna Lovegood and Albus Dumbledore, Luna Lovegood time travels and becomes a young Albus’ neighbor)

In the Clockface, Weighted and Weary (Harry Potter/Ariana Dumbledore, Harry after DH ends up back in time in Dumbledore’s childhood and witnesses the beautiful Dumbledore family dysfunction)

Eternal Return (Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, Harry is reincarnated as Tom Riddle and as a result becomes Voldemort so that a Voldemort exists)

Like Pale Fire (Harry Potter/Godric Gryffindor, the Founders are resurrected and it turns out Harry had travelled to the past and become Salazar Slytherin, turns out the Founders were more complicated than people expected.)

12 Moves Sideways (Harry Potter and Light Yagami, Death Note crossover, Light becomes the Defense Professor, for once Harry does not figure out the mystery.)

A Very Young Girl’s Record of Her Own Impressions (Ariana Dumbledore’s diary)

Night Comes Early (Moody on war)

Little Witches (The Black family women and how it all falls apart)

Paved with Good Intentions (Petunia on finding a baby on her doorstep)

Emerald Serpent for Vanity (Draco and Nagini introspective)

Blue (Tom Riddle/Bellatrix LeStrange, Voldemort wins dystopia, Tom visits Bellatrix’s grave and is very crazy)

Eighteen (Hermione Granger, on Hermione’s betrayal of her parents)

Ouroboros (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, on what they’ve made of each other)

Not so Different (Scout, To Kill a Mockingbird Crossover, Scout reflects on the wizarding world’s raicsm)

Traitor (Hermione Granger, Hermione is captured by the Death Eaters and commits unspeakable acts to free herself)

Smashing Mirrors (Tom Riddle, introspective)

Twelve Dark Moons (Luna Lovegood/Tom Riddle, Luna becomes a captive of the dark lord)

Full Circle (Harry Potter, Harry wins and is miserable)

The Web of a Thousand Spiders (Luna Lovegood on the diary)

The Metronome (The fall of Lucius’ entire generation)

Understand (Hermione Granger and her betrayal of her parents)

Tea with the Headmaster (Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore, the pair have tea)

This Grief Feeling (Hermione Granger and Severus Snape after the end)

After Innocence (The trio after the end)

Of Great Turmoil and Excess Stupidity (Sesshomaru and Hagrid, Inuyasha crossover, Hagrid decides to capture a demon for class)

What’s Left of Hope (Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore, on preserving hope)

In His Keep (Severus Snape and Luna Lovegood, Snape informs Luna her father has died)

Wednesday (Petunia Evans, introspective)

In the Presence of Angels (Moody in WWII)

What He Grows to Be (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry Potter raises Tom Riddle in the past and it goes horribly wrong)

Being Cassandra (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry Potter, Tom, and their strange AU friendship)

The Girl (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, a fem Harry Potter keeps accidentally appearing in Tom’s childhood)

Corruption (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Tom wins AU and female Harry slowly becomes corrupted)

One Night Stand (Tom Riddle/Lily Evans, a wonderful look on the first war, Tom Riddle, Lily Evans, the Order of the Phoenix, and terrorism)

The Voldemort Principle (Severus Snape, turns out Snape was Voldemort the whole time and Harry is a lying liar who lies)

Harry Potter and the mountain of pure diamond (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry has become an ageless god who travels worlds and decides to raise Tom Riddle. He’s disturbed when he realizes Tom is more of a person than he is)

A Road Less Travelled By (Harry Potter/Lucius Malfoy, Harry’s a veela, just read it, it’s amazing, I know I sound crazy but it is)

Transformation (Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Draco gets eaten by the Forbidden Forest and then Harry gets eaten too)

Rock Bottom (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Tom gets trapped being defense professor and has a miserable time)

[psychovigilantewrites]

Chapter 12- The Dark King

Word Count: 10, 700

Ao3

TW: Mentions of rape, abuse, violence

A/N: Thank you guys for your kind comments and support so far! I really love the enthusiasm and your responses! 

I also wanted to share these amazing fanart!! 

by @nessieusagi​ 

by @milas-imaginarium​

I think they’re so lovely and it makes me so happy seeing all of this!

Masterlist

Ko-Fi

The first thing you felt when you woke up the next morning was the burning soreness between your thighs.

You winced when you reached down to touch your tender folds. Your labia minora was slightly swollen, and you felt something sticky. You withdrew your hand to see dark red oxidized blood.

You got up from bed, flinching as you walked to your bathroom to wash up. After a quick shower, you head out but paused when you caught your own reflection in the mirror. There were bruises on your waist and your hips, a double crescent shaped marking around your left nipple- you hadn’t even realise he bit you there in the heat. Your eyes then darted towards your neck, taking in the dark spots that had formed on the surface of your skin.

“Fucking hell,” you muttered.

You were a fucking mess. Anyone who saw you would immediately know what you were up to the night before. Even washed and clean, you could make out your slightly swollen lips.

You reached for your makeup bag and started covering up the visible remains of the assault you welcomed- before pausing in realisation.

Mother was quiet. She hadn’t made a single comment about how dirty you were.

And you didn’t feel dirty either.

You saw your own lips quirk up in a smirk as you craned your head to expose your neck even more to dab on concealer. You had just finished getting dressed when you heard a knock on your door.

“ Hey, you up?” you heard Dick’s muffled voice from outside.

You didn’t bother to reply, but went to open the door for him.

You stared at him, as he stared at you.

“You look like shit,” you snickered, then stepped aside to allow him inside.

His eyes were red and puffy, with dark circles underneath them. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days and the fact that his complexion was gray and pale added on to the “looks like death” look.

“I feel like shit,” he groaned. You sat on the chair near your desk as he helped himself to your bed.

“Are you okay?” he frowned in concern.

“I’m fine. Why?”

“You’re walking funny,” he narrowed his eyes at you.

Shit.

You had tried to walk as normally as you could, but you were naive to think that you could have fooled Dick.

“Oh!” you feigned realisation, “My foot hurts a bit. I think I twisted it yesterday when I ran up the stairs.”

Fuck.

Another blunder.

It wasn’t a half truth, it was a straight up lie, and you knew how good Dick was at detecting lies. Judging from the tightening of his lips and the scrutinizing pause, he saw straight through you. You remained silent for a few moments. Then-

“So, Bruce told you, right?” Dick changed the subject, “How did you take it?”

You relaxed.

“I didn’t know him,” you reminded, “So it was more like a surprise to me, you know? I didn’t think it was possible. Then everything just made sense. Like, mind blowingly. The shit he said to me, the familiarity with the gadgets and my uniform, the kidnapping.”

“It killed him, you know?” Dick brought up, “Bruce, I mean. When he saw those bruises Red Hood- no, Jason- left on you. He probably didn’t show much, but Alfred called and told me how badly he took it.”

Suddenly, you were hyper aware of the hickies you currently had hidden on your neck, as if they were burning into your skin.

“Well, that was Todd’s plan, I suppose,” you shrugged. It still felt weird to talk about him in the context of the present.

“It worked,” Dick nodded, “Bruce was messed up. You’re his daughter after all.”

You didn’t know how to respond to his sad smile, so you changed the subject.

“So did you yell at him?” you smirked, “For keeping it a secret for so long?”

“Yell at him? I punched him,” he revealed.

“In the face?” you gasped.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he muttered, looking away.

“How long will you be staying?” you asked.

“I’m taking a week off work. If nothing by then, I’ll go back, but will continue to drop by as much as I can.”

“Anything last night?” you questioned.

“No,” he sighed, “We tried to look for people to interrogate, but it wasn’t our luck. We’ll try again. We’ve been checking out Bruce’s safehouses as well since he never removed Jason’s security clearance so he could be using one of them. So far nothing, though.”

You felt like a dark mass inside of you was eating you up, drowning you in guilt and shame.

While they were out desperately looking for Jason the night before, you knew exactly where he was and who he was doing.

“You’ll find him eventually,” you offered, “And when this stupid suspension is over, I’ll be there to help as well.”

“Yeah,” he hummed, “Jason… I want to help him. Save him. He’s angry, and you know what? I get it. I get why he’s pissed.”

So Dick got it?

He got that it was your fucking fault? That you were Jason’s replacement?

He got why Jason fucking hated you?

Dick must have noticed the change in your expression, because he quickly added, “I meant Bruce. How Bruce let Joker go.”

“Yeah, I got that,” you recovered, “It’s fine.”

“Sure, Bruce beat Joker up and all that, but I felt that Jason was always the type to think that the ends justify the means. He valued the intentions more than the action itself-”

“I said it’s fine, Dick,” you cut him off.

“And of course it does not in any way justify what he did to you-”

“Dick,” you grit, “It’s fine.”

He looked at you warily.

Or was it pity?

You didn’t need or want his fucking pity.

“Anyway,” he got up, “Breakfast?”

“Sure,” you followed suit, willing yourself to not grimace at the shooting pain between your thighs that you had forgotten about.

The two of you made your way downstairs to have breakfast in the dining room, table already set by Alfred.

“Bruce?” you asked Dick, wondering where your father was.

“He’s been in the cave the whole night,” Dick frowned as he took a seat across from you, “Hadn’t slept a wink.”

“I see,” you acknowledged, while you piled your plate with bacon and eggs.

“So,” Dick started with his mouth full, “Where did you go last night?”

“Did Alfred tell you I went out?” you narrowed your eyes.

“Mhmm.”

You immediately started to get more cautious.

“I went to see someone,” you casually told him, trying your best to lower your heartbeat.

“Oh, was it that guy you were seeing?”

“Yup.”

“You never told me his name.”

You swallowed.

“Carter.”

“Carter?” he snickered.

“What’s wrong with Carter?” you feigned a defensive stance.

“Nothing wrong,” he tried to stifle his laughter, “So is Carter the reason why you’re walking funny?”

You did not expect that.

You were going to gasp in shock, but you had food in your mouth, so you ended up choking on it and going into a coughing fit.

“Dick!” you hacked violently, eyes streaming with tears.

“What?” he guffawed, “Oh, God. Are you okay?”

“Why would you say that?” you reached for the glass of juice.

“I need to know whether I gotta have a stern talking with some guy,” he laughed, “It was an honest question! Come on, I’m your brother.”

“Even more reason not to discuss these things!” you grimaced.

“Hey, if you’re old enough to do it, you’re old enough to talk about it,” he said smugly.

“It’s none of your business,” you protested, blushing furiously.

But the universe was a bitch.

Against all your luck, your phone that you had set on the table dinged.

You looked at Dick, and he looked at you, mischief glinting in his eyes.

You had been Robin for a long time, and while your reflexes were good, it still wasn’t as good as Dick’s.

Before you could reach for your phone, Dick had lunged for it, snatching it away mere moments before you could react.

“Dick, give it back!” you panicked, jumping across the table to catch swipe it back, causing a commotion.

He stood up tall, keeping the phone out of your reach.

“Oooh, Sexy Hunk From Library, huh?” he read out the notification on your lock screen. You put in a mental reminder to change your settings later.

“Thought of my proposal?” he read out loud, skipping away from you.

Fuck.

If Jason sent anything else, he’d expose himself.

“Proposal?” Dick continued, “What proposal? Did he ask you to marry him?”

You could tackle him. You couldn’t beat Dick but you could perhaps make him drop your phone.

“Or,” he gasped, “Is he into BDSM? Fifty Shades of Grey stuff? He’s getting you to sign a contract, isn’t-”

“How about instead of distracting yourself and using humor as a coping mechanism for your obvious grief and anger, you come to the terms and accept the fact that it was your fucking little brother who kidnapped and sexually assaulted me?” you spat with venom.

You saw the moment Dick registered your words, the way his smile fell, his teasing eyes darkened, his jaw clench and his back stiffened.

Dick had never looked at you the way he did then, and suddenly you felt small in his presence, the way Batman had always made you shrink away from his excessive aura of authority that he projected while he scrutinized you.

You felt like a dark veil covered the sun, and wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole as he looked at you with dark eyes.

“Dick-”

“You’re right,” he grit, “Thanks for the slap in the face.”

“I’m sorry-” you tried.

“Clean up the mess you made,” he cut you off before leaving you alone with spilled juice and bacon bits on the floor.

You were never the clingy type.

You never really missed anyone because you never had anyone to miss. The maids and nannies in your childhood home rotated frequently so that you couldn’t get attached to them. Looking back, you were sure your parents did it on purpose.

It was only when you started giving full trust to your new family that you knew how it felt to miss someone.

And it had always been Dick, since you had gotten close to him and he wasn’t around much. You always had a good relationship with him, and he never once got angry at you or looked at you the way he did.

And now, it was Dick you had hurt.

But frankly, you didn’t care.

Because he deserved it.

***

It wasn’t like Jason was hoping for you to agree, but it was part of his plan so he couldn’t help but hope.

At least, that’s what he was telling himself.

He was sitting at his dining table- the fact that he owned a dining table sort of made him pleased with himself- cleaning his guns.

It took you almost an hour before you finally replied his text.

When Jason heard the ding, he looked to his screen to read the notification.

I’m still thinking.

He frowned, then put his gun down. He wiped his hand stained with grease and gunpowder residue on his bare chest, leaving a trail of gray on the surface of his skin before picking up his phone to reply.

Think faster. he simply sent.

He saw that you immediately started typing back.

These things take planning, Jason. I need to make sure no one can identify me if I were to go out with you. It’s not the matter of whether or not I can decide, it’s the matter of whether or not I’m capable of eluding Batman once he sees a surveillance footage of me with you.

Jason smirked. Evidently, you were agitated.

He liked that.

He liked agitating you.

You’re a smart girl. You can figure it out. he replied and went back to cleaning his weapons when you didn’t text him back.

Two hours later, his phone dinged again.

Fine. Where do we meet?

Jason smiled widely at his success.

Meet me at 7th Dillon Avenue, Coventry. I’ll be in the alley between the old tailor shop and a thrift store. 11pm sharp.

Noted.

Oh, and babygirl? he sent again.

What?

Put on that lip gloss you always wear. he replied with a kissing emoji he knew would get under your skin.

***

I don’t exist for him.

I don’t care what he thinks.

I don’t want to please him.

You repeated to yourself again and again as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, the tube of clear lipgloss you always wore held tight in your shaking fist.

After knowing he wanted you to wear it, you were suddenly torn between putting it on or not. You didn’t think something as stupid and simple as that could drive you up the wall.

You were frowning at yourself, at how idiotic you were being.

You were already ready, wearing a tight black suit made from Kevlar thread underneath black armor, your hair out of your face, and steel toed combat boots on complete with black leather gloves you usually wore during winter. The only weapons you were bringing were a pair of escrima sticks strapped to your back, your grappling gun strapped to your upper thigh, and a small knife strapped below it. Your belt only had smoke bombs. You were ready to leave, except for the lipgloss.

You groaned, and smacked it on anyway, hating yourself silently for listening to him.

You left your phone in your room, because you knew that Bruce could track your movements with it and deactivating your GPS and whatever bug he used would be more suspicious.

You managed to sneak past Alfred and head to the garage, thankful that both Bruce and Dick were already out, and chose the most normal looking motorcycle available and slapping black duct tape on the number plate to cover it up.

You thought about how your core would just sting while riding a motorcycle. The pain between your legs had lessened, but it was still sore enough to make your movements odd and stiff.

You left the manor with your heart beat racing, thinking of how you were betraying the man who took you in and loved you.

The man whom you called your father.

The streets in Coventry were dark and empty at that time. The only shops that were open were a couple of empty dodgy bars and convenience stores. You and Batman sometimes would patrol the area because it was such a perfect place for crime to happen. For some reason, it was so empty that even criminals hardly ever targeted anyone in the area save a few residents.

You hurriedly zoomed into the alley that Jason had told you. Both the tailor shop and thrift store were closed. You immediately saw him leaning against a black, sleek classic car, helmet resting on the hood. It was your first time seeing him as Red Hood after discovering his identity.

And the image ignited a fire in your belly.

You parked next to him and switched your engine off, taking off your own black motorcycle helmet.

You walked towards him and stopped a few feet away, arms crossed.

He looked at you, up and down. Then-

“Very homemade. I like it. Black suits you better,” he drawled. “You’re packing light tonight.”

“I had to be careful,” you reminded him, “I couldn’t take much weapons. He would have noticed.”

“I didn’t know you used those,” he nodded at the escrima sticks on your back.

“Dick taught me how to use them,” you explained, “My fighting style is too rigid- Bruce would recognize it if he saw me fight next to you. I’m not as familiar with the escrima sticks, so I haven’t developed a style yet. It could throw him off- hopefully.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, and started walking towards you. You refused to budge. He came close to you and grabbed you by the hips, pulling you close against his chest.

Your breath hitched, but you willed yourself to not show any sort of reaction.

“And this?” he breathed, hands snaking up your waist, rubbing the material up and down, “Kevlar armor?”

“Zylon,” you mumbled, ignoring the growing heat between your legs, “It’s six times stronger than Kevlar.”

“And he wouldn’t notice this go missing?”

“It’s stored away,” you huffed, “It’s more like a bulletproof vest rather than a suit. He wouldn’t miss it. Not the way he would miss the tech he used on the Robin suit.”

“Impressive,” he whispered, his warm breath fanning your face. He started caressing your cheek gently. It could have been a romantic gesture, but for some reason you thought that it was more threatening. “You’re even wearing contacts to change the color of your eyes. See? I knew you were smart”

“That’s a given,” you scoffed, looking sideways. Anywhere to avoid his eyes, though he was wearing a red domino mask with white lens. “Why do you even wear a mask if you already have a helmet?”

“Why did you wear your lipgloss when you had no obligation to listen to me?” he smirked, his thumb pressed on your shiny lips.

You slapped his hand away and looked at him in defiance as you put on a black bandana over your nose and mouth, tying it behind your head to give you a sense of protected identity.

He chuckled, and let you go.

“This is our rendezvous point. If anything happens, we meet back here. Now hop in,” he walked towards his car.

“Why can’t I take my own vehicle?” you demanded.

“Because I want you next to me,” he grinned, and put on his helmet. The minute it rested on his head, you saw it activate, the white glowing eyes switched on and you heard the very soft sound of his electronic breaths.

You frowned.

It was state of the art tech. You knew it must have had additional features like night vision and zoom lenses, not unlike the one you owned. You wondered where or how he had procured it.

“If that’s your only reason, then I’m taking my bike,” you defied.

He was already going to enter the driver’s seat when he stopped midway. He turned to look at you, and for some reason, it made you shudder.

In a flash, he was already behind you, taking your arms to incapacitate you and slammed your front onto the hood of his car.

He was unbelievably fast- you couldn’t believe that they were human reflexes. It must have been a result of the Lazarus Pit that Bruce briefed you on.

He bent over you, a hand in your hair forcing your head down against the warm car.

“Don’t get too cocky, baby girl,” he cautioned, “I still don’t trust you enough.”

You had to admit that the vulnerable position you were in sort of made your pussy clench.

“Fine,” you conceded, “I’ll go with you.”

You felt the pressure disappear and heard the car door slam. You grumbled and rubbed your cheek, before following suit.

Just because you knew it was Jason, you had let your guard down. You forgot how unstable he actually was. You made a mental reminder to be more cautious of his mood bursts.

You slammed the door shut. The interior of the car looked just as sleek as the exterior, with black leather seats- the passenger and driver’s seat were joined together- and an old school cassette player with nothing playing. The car was spacious and looked like a collector’s car. Again, you were left to wonder where he got it.

“Where are we going?” you asked, looking out the window, trying to avoid how sexy his arms looked when he gripped the steering wheel.

How could arms even be sexy?

“We’re heading to iClub,” he stated.

“On Verne Avenue? The one owned by the Ibenescus’?” you frowned, “They still a problem for you?”

“Big operation. Proud family,” he huffed, “International business. Yes, they’re a problem. They’ve been trying to hide it from me, but my men say they’re still active.”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

You felt uneasy.

“Just have a little talk with Victor,” he shrugged, “He’s in charge of the operations now after the Patru Fatri, and the cousins. He’s more distant from the main family, but an Ibenescu nonetheless.”

“Well, I hope the club doesn’t check IDs,” you mumbled jokingly to yourself.

To your surprise, you heard Jason bark out a loud laugh. It was an odd sound coming from the voice scrambler inside his helmet.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he rested a hand on your lap, which you felt almost burn, “You look way over 21.”

*** What Gotham lacked in security, it made up with entertainment.

Theatrics.

Its affinity for producing and attracting bizarre individuals always made for good dinner discussion. You just never thought you would be on the side of the crazies.

Jason had parked a couple of blocks away from the club. You recognized the area, as it was just a lane away from The Black Bass Bar, where Jason had decapitated the cousins and put their heads on spikes.

The two of you walked towards the club.

“Listen here,” he started, “This isn’t your area of expertise. You do exactly what I tell you to do. You don’t open your mouth unless I say so. I’ve worked hard to earn fear from these people and I’m not going to let you fuck that up for me. Understood?”

“Whatever,” you huffed.

You noticed how the bouncers started getting nervous when they saw the two of you approaching. They had started to sweat and fidget, trying excessively hard to focus on filtering the going ins and outs of guests.

“Red Hood, sir,” one of them nodded and let the two of you inside. The moment you stepped in, you felt like you were immediately deafened by the loud techno music that was playing, and blinded by the flashing bright lights.

You noticed how many of the customers recognized Red Hood, and flinched away from him, avoiding eye contact. Their gaze would linger longer on you, curiosity in their eyes.

The both of you squeezed past the sweaty dancers on the floor, and towards the VIP area on the other side of the club.

Seated on the long suede purple sofas were three men, each with at least two women on their arms. The moment they saw you approaching, they immediately went rigid.

Red Hood simply strutted to the area and you followed behind him.

“Ah, Red Hood,” the man with straw hair that was slicked back and navy blue shirt that he had left unbuttoned, revealing his hairy chest, greeted. “Take a seat, take a seat! I see you have a guest with you, as well.”

“Victor,” Red Hood nodded, sitting on the chair. He crossed his legs and spread his arms across the back of the sofa, lounging comfortably. He looked over to you and nodded to his side, silently telling you to sit.

You obeyed, though less relaxed than Red Hood. It was slightly quieter at the VIP lounge, but you still had to strain your ears to hear them speak.

“Can I get you a drink, my friend?” Victor offered, “Maybe something for the lady?”

“You want anything, princess?” Red Hood turned to you.

“No, thank you,” you grit.

You hated that he was calling you pet names while in the presence of a crime lord. It was humiliating, and made you feel like you were just an accessory to him, not unlike those hardly dressed girls that were on Victor’s side.

You noticed one of them.

He had his arm wrapped around her waist, but she looked extremely uncomfortable. She was blonde, wearing a black dress with a plunging neckline, and didn’t look that much older than you. Even with the layers of badly applied makeup, you could tell she had eyebags and dark circles, perhaps maybe even bruises on her face.

“Angelica,” Victor called a girl from the other end of the sofa, “Come here give my friend some company.”

The girl called Angelica had tanned skin and exotic features, and was a brunette with curls that hung to her hips and was wearing a body hugging deep purple glittery tube dress. She came to sit on Red Hood’s other side, snuggling up close to him and started rubbing her hand on his thigh, and whispered something that you couldn’t hear.

And he just let her.

You clenched your jaw.

No, you couldn’t be jealous. It didn’t make sense for you to be. Yet, the sudden tightness of your chest said otherwise.

You saw Red Hood angled his face slightly towards you, probably to see your reaction.

You couldn’t see it, but you somehow knew he was smirking.

“So what brings you here?” Victor asked, trying to hide his nervousness.

It was the first time you met with an Ibenescu face to face. You thought that they would have a thick accent, but Victor sounded just as American as you and Red Hood.

“I was just wondering how things were going on your end,” Red Hood shrugged.

“Things are going excellent,” he replied, “As you can see, the club is doing great. People are enjoying themselves.”

“And the drugs?” Red Hood brought up.

“Ah, straight to business, like always,” Victor chuckled, “We’ve sold almost all our stock this month. You can come by and get your share of profits any time.”

“Who are your clients?”

“Local distributors, as well as some international ones,” he explained, “With explicit instruction to avoid dealing with the underaged, of course.”

“And how can you be so sure they’re listening?” Red Hood demanded.

“You know us, Red Hood,” he boasted, “The Ibenescu Family is one of the most powerful families in Gotham. Our name is very well known in the underground. We have people everywhere. Our operations span from the Americas, to Europe, to South East Asia.”

“And which operation did you come from, sweetheart?” he addressed the girl next to him.

She looked at him with shock, gaping like a fish out of water.

“Angelica here is from the Philippines,” Victor answered for her, his voice grittier than normal, “She migrated to find work. I provided for her. Isn’t that right, Angel?”

“Y-yes, sir,” she stuttered, “Mister Victor has been very good to me. He gave me a job when others wouldn’t. I am forever grateful for him.”

You frowned at the way she recited those words, almost like she memorized it from a playcard.

“The American dream, as the say,” Victor continued, “My family are very familiar with it. We are immigrants that came a long time ago, and America provided for us. I wanted to do the same for others.”

“Did you now?” Red Hood hummed.

“Of course,” he nodded aggressively, “But enough about me. Who is this ravishing lady you have here? I have not seen you before, my dear.”

You looked at Red Hood, who nodded subtly once.

“I’m V,” you made up on the spot.

“V?” Victor repeated.

“For Vendetta,” you finished.

You heard Red Hood chuckle next to you.

Victor raised an eyebrow, “Well, my dear, you must be special to my good friend Red Hood, here. I didn’t think he was capable of laughter. Where did he hide you all this while?”

“Ah, you see, Victor,” Red Hood cut in, “I did not hide her, because she isn’t mine to hide. V here is her own person, who happened to become partners with me for tonight. People only hide property, and women aren’t property, am I right?”

There was an unmistakable threat in his voice.

“Of course not,” Victor agreed, “I respect women.”

Suddenly, there was a tension in the air as the two men looked at each other.

Then, Victor started laughing.

“You’re too tense, Red Hood,” he boomed, “And you should trust your associates more. Especially the ones who sacrificed their entire industry for you.”

“Sacrifice, huh?” he said softly. Then, Red Hood turned his body towards you, scooting closer to your side. He let his hand rest on your thigh.

“You got my back, baby girl?” he whispered into your ear.

“Yes, but I’m not killing anyone,” you whispered back, “And you shouldn’t either.”

He ignored you and went back to Victor.

“Victor,” Red Hood said, “I’m feeling a little… Restless tonight. I want one of your girls.”

You clenched your jaw.

“Oh?” Victor widen his eyes, “Finally taking up my offer! Of course, of course! Pick anyone of my lovely ladies.”

“I want that one,” Red Hood pointed to the blonde Victor was obviously possessive over.

“Elena?” Victor started laughing awkwardly, “I’m afraid she’s not available, Red Hood. But you’re welcome to choose anyone else. Angel here is very popular.”

“No,” Red Hood insisted, “I want your Elena.”

“That’s not possible,” Victor denied, annoyance on his face, “Elena is only for me.”

“Well, since you respect women so much, let’s hear it from her, huh?” Red Hood teased, “Elena, sweetheart, would you keep me company tonight?”

Elena’s eyes were wide and terrified. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. You felt bad for her and wondered why Red Hood was putting her in such a difficult situation.

“I-I-I’m v-very sorry,” she squeaked. You could hear her thick Romanian accent. “I o-only serve Mister Ibenescu.”

“What, this clown?” Red Hood scoffed, earning a glare from Victor, “Unlike him, I’m sure I can give you a pretty good time.”

“S-sorry,” she stuttered, “T-that is not possible.”

Red Hood kept silent.

“There you go, the woman herself said it,” Victor commented, “And you’d want to respect a woman’s wishes right, Red Hood?”

“How old are you?” Red Hood asked softly, ignoring Victor.

“T-twenty-four,” she replied.

“You don’t look twenty-four,” he hummed, “How long have you been working with Victor?”

“Two years,” she automatically responded.

“I see,” he nodded.

You could tell she was lying, about both her age and how long she worked. And you knew Jason caught on as well.

Jason leaned back, taking out his gun from his thigh holster and casually dumped it on the low rise table, clinking against the glass bottles and shot glasses.

Ibenescu tensed up, and then there were about fifteen men who pointed their guns at the two you. You were about halfway standing up, reaching for your escrima sticks when Red Hood caught you by the shoulder to stop you.

You frowned at him, then sat back down.

You noticed that the music had suddenly stopped, and everyone in the club was silently looking, worry in their eyes and preparation to take off if anything were to get out of hand. You guessed that these sort of things happened frequently, and the club probably had a system for when it did.

“Relax, will you?” he growled at everyone, “Was just getting a little uncomfortable there, Jesus Christ.”

Victor nodded at his men, and they set their guns down. The music continued to play and the customers continued to dance as if nothing had happened.

You now knew what he was doing.

From the very beginning, he already planned out what he was going to say and what he was going to do in order to prepare for an inevitable fight. Based on observation, he knew that Elena was Victor’s favourite and that he would not let anyone touch her, so he provoked him by asking for her.

Asking Elena her age and how long she worked was also a calculated and pivotal move. Since both you and Red Hood could tell when someone was lying, the fact that she was indeed hiding what seemed to be minor information told volumes that she wasn’t supposed to be by Victor’s side, meaning that she wasn’t there by choice, and you could assume that she was trafficked.

From there, he confirmed his sources that Victor had not ended his human and sex trafficking trade, and had reasonable reason to attack.

And by putting the gun on the table, however he relaxed he seemed, was a massive power move. He showed that he wasn’t afraid of being unarmed- though, you knew he was probably packing more than one gun. Tactical wise, when Ibenescu’s men showed themselves, they also showed their numbers to you. You now knew where they were, what weapons they used, and how many of them you needed to take down.

You smirked to yourself underneath your improvised mask. You knew already how smart and strategic he was based on how he conquered the underground in only just a few months, but seeing him act in the flesh, you truly appreciated his brain.

“It almost seems like you’re scared of me, Victor,” he drawled, “Are you?”

“You did kill members of my family,” he mumbled.

“It was their fault now, wasn’t it?” Red Hood shrugged, “I told them to stop. They wouldn’t. Now, if you’re not as stupid as they were, Vic, you wouldn’t have to be scared, am I right?”

Red Hood leaned forward towards Victor, resting his elbows on his knees and tilting his head sideways.

“With all due respect, Red Hood, they were not stupid,” Victor argued, “They were simply protecting the pride of our name.”

“And how about you? You’re not protecting your family’s pride?”

“I prioritize my life over pride,” Ibenescu admitted, “And I respect you as Gotham’s Dark King.”

Dark King? What the fuck?

“Dark King,” Red Hood repeated, laughing lightly, “Got a nice ring to it, don’t you think, princess?”

He elbowed your side playfully.

“A bit cheesy for my taste,” you grit.

“Aw, the missus doesn’t like it. To be fair, I think it’s cheesy too,” he stated, “But you know what I don’t like even more, Victor?”

Victor frowned at him in question.

“I said,” Red Hood snarled, “You know what I don’t like even more, Victor?”

“W-what, Red Hood?” Victor sputtered.

“People who lie to me,” he growled.

In a blink of an eye, with the speed you had witnessed earlier and many times before, he had managed to stand up, reach for the gun on the table, jumped across and stepped on Victor’s chest who was leaning in panic against the sofa, and cocked the gun towards his head.

All before you could even register his initial movement.

The fifteen men aimed their semi-automatics at Red Hood, prepared to gun him down.

The music had stopped, and from your peripheral vision, you saw the crowd were ushered to the exit in chaos.

“If your men don’t put down their weapons, I’ll shoot,” Red Hood looked down at Victor.

“What is the point, Red Hood?” Victor defied, “You would kill me anyways. I might as well try to take you down with me.”

Red Hood paused for a moment. Then-

“Baby girl?”

You nodded. “Got it.”

The first person you attacked was the one pointing his gun to your back.

The sticks felt unfamiliar, yet refreshing.

You managed to knock him out before he could shoot at you, but by that time others were already pulling their triggers. You locked your next target.

You ran at him and slid on the floor, taking his knees out and simultaneously pushing him into the next person whom you used your stick to hit directly at the centre of his head.

But you could sense a gun being aimed at you, and you dived behind the sofa to use as a shield. You heard glass shattering around you, and on the floor you found someone’s dropped mobile phone. You reached for it, and with aggressive force, sent it spinning through the air and hit the culprit in the eye, blinding him.

You came out of hiding and lunged your sticks at his throat.

You spun around to grab the neck of a semi-automatic and directed it upwards, causing bullets to spray across the club.

Your ears heard nothing but ringing for the next minute.

You pounded onto the guard’s chest using your sticks, and ended the attack with a blow to his temples.

You had counted five, so you reacted quickly to lock on your next target, but when you came out of your adrenaline induced tunnel vision, you noticed everyone else were already lying on the floor.

During the time you knocked out five men, Red Hood had already killed ten.

And now, he was left with a sobbing, begging Victor Ibenescu who was on his knees on the glass covered floor.

“What should I do with you, Vic?” Red Hood drawled, “I’ve already gutted your cousins, put some of them on display. And it was a pretty display, wasn’t it?”

You approached them.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a whimpering Elena who was in a fetal position against a toppled over sofa, terror in her eyes.

“P-please,” Victor stuttered, “I promise I’ll shut down the operation, for real this time!”

“I don’t give second chances, Vic,” he told him, “Now I’m just thinking about whether I have the time to skin you alive before the cops show up.”

“Red Hood,” you called out, “You don’t need to. The cops are already on the way- hell, Batman is probably a couple of minutes out. We should leave.”

“And leave him here unpunished?” he jabbed the gun into Vic’s head, causing him to recoil from the heat of the muzzle. “I don’t think so.”

“Red-”

“Elena!” Red Hood barked, “Come here. Now.”

You saw Elena struggle to get onto her feet and limped her way to you.

“What do you think, sweetheart?” Red Hood asked, “Should we leave him for the cops to find and deal with, or…”

He looked over to her and gently took her hand, handing her his own gun.

“Do you want to kill him?”

You gaped at Red Hood, just how Elena was.

“M-m-me?” she managed.

“Yes, you,” he confirmed.

“You can’t possibly make her-” you started.

“Don’t you think she’s the one who should decide what happens to him?” he cut you off.

Elena still looked shocked, and held the gun as if it was going to hurt her.

“Hey,” you approached her slowly, “You don’t have to. Once the police come, they’ll take him away and put him behind bars for the rest of his life. You don’t have to be scared anymore. They’ll help protect you.”

The poor girl was shaking so bad, you were worried she might set off the gun accidentally.

“No,” she whispered.

“Elena-” you tried.

“No!” she shrieked at you, causing you to stumble slightly back in surprise, “You- you don’t know. He do things to me! Again and again! He took me. I thirteen! Now I eighteen! No!”

You were utterly speechless. How could you reply to that?

She held the gun properly now, with two hands.

“He made me kill baby. Two times!” she sobbed.

Your heart broke.

She shuffled closer to him.

“Elena, my dear,” Victor started frantically begging, “You’ve always been my favourite. I’ve always treated you well, haven’t I?”

“No!”

BANG!

You heard Victor let out an inhuman screech.

Elena had shot him between the legs. Next to you, you heard Red Hood chuckle.

She pulled the trigger one last time, and crumpled onto the floor at the same time Victor did.

You wanted to approach her, comfort her, anything.

But Red Hood beat you to it.

“Listen to me,” he growled to get her attention since she was sobbing hysterically, “Are you listening?!”

She nodded.

“When the police come, you tell them that I made you shoot, alright? You tell them that I said I would rape you then gut you alive if you didn’t shoot him. You understand me?” he shook her.

“Y-yes,” she hiccuped.

“Repeat it. Tell me what you are going to tell them.”

“R-red Hood say he rape me and kill me if I no shoot,” she bawled.

“Good,” he nodded, “You did good, Elena.”

He then turned to you. “Let’s go.”

The two of you quickly rushed to the exit. You were just about to leave the club when-

“W-wait!” Elena called out, “Red Hood!”

He looked at her.

“T-thank you.”

He left without saying a word.

***

You were being really quiet in the car.

Jason thought that you were still shaken over what had happened.

Sure, maybe you saved people from being mugged or raped, and perhaps even some trafficked girls in the past.

But he was sure that those girls didn’t have the option Jason graciously gave Elena.

Jason thought that you were probably thinking about what those girls you saved in the past would have done if they were granted the same choice.

He sped up, hands gripped tight around the steering wheel. His body was still buzzing from leftover adrenaline, and he was itching for something.

An illegal car race. A good old fashioned hand-to-hand combat with somebody who could keep up with him. Hell, even a nice and long jerk off session.

He was bothered by the silence, despite being alone the whole time before this.

He put in a cassette and AC/DC started blasting through the speakers. He saw you jump at the sudden noise.

Somehow the ride back to the rendezvous point seemed longer than expected.

“Why do you still have a cassette player, and cassettes?” you spoke for the first time since the club.

“I’m old school that way,” he jested.

You ignored him and continued looking out the window.

That annoyed him.

Fuck, why was he so fidgety? Why did he want your fucking attention so much?

He felt like that kid in kindergarten who pulled on the pigtails of the girl he liked.

Finally, the both of you were back in the alleyway.

He turned off both the music and the engine, and took off his helmet. He combed through his hair with his hands and tossed the helmet in the backseat. He saw that you had taken your mask off as well, but hadn’t made a move to leave.

So he just sat there with you in silence, unsure of what to do or say- like a fucking idiot.

Fuck.

You were driving him crazy.

Thankfully, you broke the silence.

“What did your sources say about the Ibenescus’ still trafficking girls?” you wondered.

“There was a recent shipment of girls from Philippines, Thailand, Russia, and India,” he explained, “Only the Ibenescus’ would still have the guts to carry out the operation. Like Victor- may he rest in peace- had said, the Ibenescus’ are powerful. They have an international business they just can’t afford to sacrifice.”

“But since Victor is dead, someone else would just take his place,” you frowned in the dark, your outline illuminated only by the single dim street light from outside.

“And I’ll keep on killing every single one of them,” he grit.

“But like you said, it’s an international operation,” you argued, “Even if it was just the States, you can’t possibly stop every single operation under the Ibenescus out there.”

“Just like however much you and Batman patrol at night, you can’t stop every single crime, right?” he sneered.

You remained silent.

“It’s the same fucking thing,” Jason insisted, “Except that Elena got her justice. True and proper justice. Or are you telling me she made the wrong call? That she shouldn’t have shot his balls off and killed him after he raped her for years and made her abort her baby twice?”

“There must be some other way,” you muttered.

Jason was annoyed at how stubborn you were, but frankly he understood.

Because that’s what Batman did. He brainwashes you into thinking that his way was the only way.

“What if I told you that one fifth of the trafficked girls were aged below twelve?” he said softly, “What if I told you that the Ibenescus’ have been providing the elite pedophile rings with children? Would you want there to be some other way?”

You looked at him, shocked.

“Elite pedophile ring?” you gaped.

“Batman didn’t tell me either when I was Robin,” he grumbled, “It’s either he didn’t know about it, or he kept it a secret from us. And knowing him, I doubt it’s the former. Weren’t there days where he insisted on being alone?”

You frowned, taking in everything Jason had said. He was proud of himself. Just after a few hours with him, he could already see your resolve faltering.

“As long as I can clear Gotham of sex trafficking, as long as there are less girls like Elena here, and as long as there are no more children involved, I’m satisfied,” he continued, “That’s what I do. I give out justice and fix things. I know most victims like her don’t get the opportunity to get closure the way she did, so I’ll be the one to make that decision and carry it out for them.”

“Oh, so you’re supposedly Gotham’s savior, then? A fucking Angel of Death or something?” you answered sarcastically.

“Didn’t you hear Vic?” he chuckled, “I’m the fucking Dark King.”

You scoffed, and crossed your arms, still looking outside.

“You were pretty good with the sticks,” Jason commented, changing the subject. “Though definitely not as good as Dick.”

Fuck, why was he still talking to you?

“I don’t usually use them,” you shot him a glare that Jason thought was more cute than threatening, “I usually use Krav Maga.”

“Yes, I’m familiar with your subpar fighting skills,” he smirked.

“That’s not fair,” you huffed, “The Pit gave you peak human abilities. You can’t compare yourself to me.”

Of course Bruce knew it was the Pit that revived Jason.

“Baby girl, I was much better than you when I was Robin,” he poked.

Why was he teasing you like this? Flirting with you like he was normal?

Joking with you as if he wasn’t planning to hurt you?

“I doubt it,” you pouted.

Even in the dim light, Jason could still make out the shiny traces of lipgloss that were still left on your lips.

Before he could stop himself, he reached out a hand to your chin, and pressed his thumb against your lips, sticky from the lipgloss.

He saw the way your breath hitched in surprise, the way your eyes darted from his eyes to his lips, the way you gulped.

“Why do you like my lipgloss so much?” you spoke, lips brushing against his thumb.

Fuck.

“Because, baby girl,” he drawled and scooted closer to you, “Ever since day one, I kept on imagining your shiny, wet lips around my cock.”

A small gasp escaped your mouth.

Which made his cock start to fill up.

“Want to make my fantasies a reality, princess?” he smirked.

“Why would I?” you whispered, “I don’t owe you anything.”

“It’s not about owing me,” he came closer, now rubbing his thumb all over your lips, smudging your lipgloss, and picking up some of your spit. “It’s about helping each other out.”

He gripped your waist with his other hand, rubbing up and down through your armor.

“Didn’t you like last night?” he purred, gripping your thigh. He noticed how you easily spread them wider apart.

“Didn’t you come all over my cock?” he forced his thumb inside your mouth, hooking it at your lower teeth and forced your face closer to his.

“Didn’t you wear your lipgloss anyway just to get my attention?” he smirked.

He had expected you to pull away, or even bite his fucking finger, but to his surprise, your lips closed in on his thumb.

And you started sucking.

All while looking up at him with your innocent, puppy dog eyes.

And for some reason, even though it was just his one fucking thumb, he felt like he was being consumed by the warmth and the wetness and the fucking softness of your mouth.

Jason was in trouble now.

Because you had started swirling your tongue around his finger as you sucked.

Jason couldn’t hold back his groan.

And from the delight he saw you in your eyes, he already knew what type you were.

You were the type to get turned on by his pleasure, his approval, his praises.

Typical Robin complex.

“Baby girl,” he breathed, “I’m not going to come unless you do the exact same thing but with my cock instead.”

He smirked when you gave him an irritated look, but then-

“Ow! Fuck!” he snatched his hand away.

You fucking bit his finger.

Again.

And this time you were looking at him with complete smugness.

“Oh, you’re in trouble now, princess,” he growled. Then, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and tugged you to him roughly, forcing his tongue in your mouth as he kissed you violently and grabbed your tits which were still covered by all your-

“Fuck, why do you wear so much fucking armor,” he gasped.

“Because I’d like to actually live in case I get shot,” you shot back at him.

Jason glared at you. He usually loved your attitude, but somehow he felt really irritated by you that night. You weren’t as snarky and confident the night before. Obviously you were less nervous, and less afraid of him.

He needed to change that.

In a flash, he pushed you hard against the locked door of his car, earning a shocked gasp from you. He crawled over to you , engulfing your body with his own.

It was hard to move in the car, but the compact setting made Jason feel like he was trapping you in a cage.

He put his hand around your neck and squeezed lightly while he attacked your mouth with his own again. This time, his kisses were less pretty.

He bit and nipped at your lips, your tongue, forcing both of your teeth to click together.

He could hear you panting hard, and moaning into his mouth, sometimes letting out soft whimpers.

“You trying to sass me, baby?” he breathed over your face, lips brushing against yours. He increased the force of his throttle.

“You forget who’s in charge here?” he whispered, appreciating the way your mouth just fucking fell open.

“Who’s in charge, princess?” he growled.

He saw your eyes roll upwards, your lids fluttering close, and felt your thighs squeeze together.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Were you getting fucking turned on by his choking?

“Y-you,” you said in stuttered breaths.

“That’s right, baby,” he let go of your neck, causing you to gasp for air.

Then, Jason leaned back against the door on his side, and parted his legs.

He was glad the Impala’s seats were joined, without any annoying bumps that parted the passenger and driver’s seat. It allowed more room to move around.

Once he saw you catch your breath, he patted to the spot between his legs.

“My cock ain’t gonna suck itself,” he smirked.

He could see the fire in your eyes as you came over to him, bent on all fours. You laid on the seat on your belly, your mouth close to his cock that was borderline becoming extremely painful.

He had to wear protective cups while he worked, which meant that getting an erection was excruciating.

He tilted his head in curiosity when he saw you stare at his thigh holsters, biting your lower lip.

“You see something you like?” he teased.

Your gaze snapped back at him, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. You ignored his question and started working on his belt buckle.

Once they were off, you impatiently pulled his pants down, but was puzzled when you saw his jockstraps.

He almost laughed when he saw the confusion etched on your features.

“They’re just like normal briefs, baby, but with extra protection,” he winked, cupped his junk, and gave it a little shake to make a point.

“I- I knew that,” you fumbled, and went to hook your fingers in the elastic waistband. You brought them down with some difficulty, as they were tight.

But Jason enjoyed seeing you struggle, so he let you figure it out.

And boy, the look on your face when you finally took his cock out.

He hissed at the relief when his cock slapped back onto his lower abdomen when it was free, but your expression made him chuckle.

“Did- did I really have that inside me last night?” your voice went up an octave.

“Inside you, and outside, and inside, and outside,” he gave you a shit eating grin.

“Very funny,” you glared, but gulped again at the sight of his erection, “Jeez. No wonder I couldn’t walk properly all day.”

“And I assure you, every single time I fuck you, you wouldn’t be able to- ah, fuck!” he got cut off by the pleasure that suddenly shot up his spine when you gripped his shaft hard.

He looked at you and saw you gave the same cheeky grin back.

Fucking hell.

You bent down, and gave a small experimental lick at the tip of his cock. He could see the way your eyebrows knitted together, how your eyes were so full of fucking contemplation. Like you were thinking of a strategy to make him come undone.

You started lapping your tongue a few more times over the head of his penis before taking the tip into your mouth and started sucking softly.

Jason groaned, and then reached his hand to tangle into your hair. Not to control your movements, not to show you how it’s done, but just because he needed to grip something.

From the tip, he saw you let your saliva drool down his shaft, making it glisten. Then, you sunk down and took more of him in. You got too ambitious, because you went down too fast and then he felt you gag around his dick.

“Fuck,” he grunted as he felt your fucking throat try to push him out, “Take it slow, baby. We have all night.”

You released him from your mouth and gasped for air, a string of saliva connecting his tip to your mouth, tears streaming down your face, eyes and nose red.

Shit.

It was a fucking sight, alright.

“I-I’m sorry,” you sputtered, “I wasn’t sure- I don’t- it’s my first time.”

And holy hell, did Jason’s heart flutter at your innocent apology.

“It’s okay,” he wiped the tears from your cheeks like he was your lover, like he fucking cared. “It feels great when you gag on my cock, but you don’t have to take it all in at once. Here.”

He pushed your head back down to take him in rough, but not too rough.

Jason needed to be a little forceful, a little violent with you. He needed to hide the fact that you sucking on his cock for the first time didn’t flick a switch of emotion within him.

“You take in as much as you can,” he panted, “And your hand can do the rest.”

He wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft.

“So when you go up,” he pulled your hair to guide you up his length, slick with your spit and his precum.

“Your hand follows your mouth,” he gripped your hand and moved it upwards as well, following the motion. “And don’t forget to suck.”

He saw that you got the hang of it pretty fast, and soon, Jason was groaning and moaning, and tugging at your hair.

He fought hard to not cant his hips upwards and start fucking your mouth. He fought hard to be considerate, to not hurt you, to not give you too much of what you could handle.

He didn’t want a repeat of the night before.

Yet, the fire in his belly and the dark voices inside his head told him to grip your head with both his hands and fucking use your mouth like a toy.

But, no. Jason was in control. And he didn’t want that. Not tonight.

He saw that you were watching him as you bobbed your head in motion, and he knew you were enjoying the sight of him. He felt vulnerable to you, open and exposed.

He hated that feeling. The shame of being laid out like that when someone was watching him-it made him feel small and guilty.

But the shame and humiliation and guilt was what made the whole thing more enjoyable.

Soon enough, he felt the familiar feeling of his gut tightening, his toes curling in his steel boots.

“Stop,” he rasped, pulling you away.

You looked at him with worry in your eyes that made Jason almost come anyway.

“I- I was close,” he explained.

“Isn’t that the point?” you smirked.

“Wanna fuck you first,” he murmured.

Then, you started blushing.

“Uhm, it still hurts a lot from yesterday,” you answered sheepishly, biting your lip awkwardly.

It reminded Jason of how you were with him the first time he met you at the library, how you were shy and a blushing mess, when you didn’t know his identity. It seemed so long ago, and for the first time, he wished things could go back to being that way.

“Fine,” he gruffed, “Come back down here, then.”

When you started sucking on him again, he added, “Didn’t know you were so weak. Thought you’d be used to getting thrown around by now.”

It really wasn’t fair for him to say that, and he knew it was hurtful.

But he wasn’t the good guy in this story.

You shot him a glare, and then popped his dick out.

“Jason, my mouth was around your cock when you said that, and if I were to accidentally bite you, well,” you retorted.

“You wouldn’t do that, baby,” he chuckled.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because, princess,” he drawled, and forced you to continue sucking, “My cock- ungh- is your favourite part of me, isn’t it?”

And as if you conceded, admitting he was right, you started to suddenly increase the pace. Filthy wet sounds filled the car as Jason heard the sound of rain in the background, and noticed that the inside of his windows had started to fog up.

Your warm, wet mouth consumed him whole, and he felt his balls tighten and tighten.

“Baby,” he gasped, “I’m gonna- I’m gonna-”

Despite his warnings, you still went on, as if you were determined to finish your job.

He groaned loud and long as he spilled his cum inside your mouth.

He felt you fucking drink it up.

Fuck.

When he was done blowing his load, you were giving him soft, gentle licks on his now sensitive cock.

And you then you sat up and smiled proudly.

“You waiting for me to give you a candy, or some shit?” he snickered, “Or a gold star?”

“Maybe you should,” you huffed and crossed your arms, sitting back properly in the passenger seat.

Jason put his pants back on, and sat up as well.

But then he noticed you squirming slightly, your respiratory rate fast, small pants escaping you. You were clenching your thighs together.

He smirked.

He reached out and caressed your cheek with one finger.

“Want me to help you out?” he offered.

“I’m fine,” you said, “I’ll deal with it later. I should go back soon. What time is it?”

“Almost two,” he glanced at the dashboard clock.

“Batman and Nightwing are probably just leaving the club by now,” you said out loud, “I’m sure they’ll keep on patrolling, though. Unless they got a clue.”

“Clue?”

“Yeah,” you hummed absentmindedly, looking outside at the rain.

You remained silent for a while.

Jason hated the silence.

Then-

“It’s your face, by the way,” you started.

“What?”

“Your face. My favourite part of you,” you avoided Jason’s eyes.

Jason was taken aback at your confession.

Why would his face be your favourite part? He had scars all over, eyebags and bloodshot eyes, and he was pretty sure his nose was more crooked than average.

“You’re good looking,” you said as if you were mad.

“Well, you’re not too bad yourself,” Jason blurted before he could stop himself.

You blinked at him in surprise.

Fuck.

He fucked up.

He wanted to punch himself.

What were the two of you doing? It wasn’t like it was a fucking date. It wasn’t like he cared about you that way. It wasn’t like he wanted you all to himself, and never let go.

Fuck.

He was done being the charming, kind, gentleman Jason Haywood.

So why was he still acting like he was?

***

“Where were you?” Dick demanded when you opened the door.

He was still in his Nightwing uniform, sans the mask.

“What?”

“Alfred said you weren’t around, and you left your phone at home,” he persisted, “Where did you go?”

“I got some junk,” you pointed to the big bag of junk food on your bed.

“Alfred said he noticed you weren’t around at midnight, and you only just got back an hour ago. It took you almost three hours just to get junk?” he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Fine,” you conceded, “I went to see Carter.”

“Why did you leave your phone?”

“I forgot, okay?” you exasperatedly flailed your hands. “I’m grounded from patrol, not from going out. What’s the big deal?”

Dick frowned at you.

Your heart was beating so hard you were afraid he could hear it.

“Where did you meet him?” he continued to interrogate.

There were no more room for half truths.

“Robinson Park,” you answered, “We spent some time in his car. Lost track of time. And- you know what? I don’t even need to tell you all of this! It’s none of your business, Dick.”

“There was someone new with Jason tonight,” he stated.

Fuck.

“Someone new?” you repeated, tilting your head in feigned curiosity.

“A girl,” he continued, “She’s skilled.”

You frowned. “Who is she?”

“Eye witness said she calls herself V,” he told you, “She uses escrima sticks and a form of arnis and silat hybrid.”

“Hmm,” you pondered, “And? Is she someone you and Jason knew?”

“We’ve been wondering about that,” he muttered.

Your eyes widen.

“You think that was me?!” you shrieked.

“You tell me!” Dick retorted.

“Why, Dick?” you shouted, “Why?”

“You were out for god knows how long and suddenly Jason has a girl with your knowledge of martial arts at his side?” he snarled, “What else am I supposed to think?”

“One, fucking anyone could learn martials arts!” you argued, “Two, I was out with Carter yesterday as well! There wasn’t anyone with Red Hood yesterday!”

“Red Hood wasn’t seen yesterday,” he debated, “And you haven’t even shown me a picture of this Carter you’re seeing. What’s his last name? Where is he from? You need to tell me. You need to tell me the truth.”

“I am,” you grit, “You need to figure out your bullshit, Dick!”

“What?”

“I get it, okay,” you sighed, and sat down on your bed, “Jason, your brother, he betrayed your trust. He’s angry at Bruce, but why didn’t he come to you?”

Dick simply looked at you.

“You trusted Jason when he was Robin, as family,” you explained, “The way you trusted me. And now that trust is destroyed, you’re questioning me as well.”

You looked at him with a sad smile.

“I’m not like Jason, Dick,” you tried to convince him, “I’m me. I’m your sister. I have no reason to hurt you or Bruce. I love you both. Okay?”

Dick stared at you, and you saw tears pooling his eyes.

That made your heart sink to your stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he blinked away the tears, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you got up and hugged him. He hugged you back tightly, pressing his cheek into the top of your head, “I love you, Dick. I’ll help you guys out with this, okay? I mean, I know I’m not as good as either of you, but I’ll try.”

“Yeah,” he sniffled, “Thank you. Can’t wait for you to get back in uniform.”

“Me too,” you replied, holding back your own tears while you thought about how fucked you were.

[ellana-ravenwood]

The first time they called you “mom” - Batmom x Batboys

I...Did not plan on writing this. But today, I wanted to reply to some asks about the Batfam (more particularly about Batmom), and um...Well I got so carried away on the very first question I tried to reply to, that I ended up writing a full fic about it and I guess I’ll answer other asks later ^^'. So anyway, here we go, the title is pretty self-explanatory, hope you’ll like it :

My masterlist blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

Dick.

“And here we go Dickie. Now, you’re a true pirate.”

You say, as you adjust an oversized tricorn on the boy’s head. He moves a bit too quickly to peak at his look in a mirror, and the hat falls back on his forehead. And oh it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, him turning back to you and trying to look at you from below it. 

Once again, you place the tricorn back as best you can, smoothing the huge peacock feather planted on its side while you’re at it. You hold it in place for a few seconds to make sure it won’t fall again, trying to figure out a way to balance it on his ears, and say : 

“We really need to get you a hat your size...This one is way too big, it’ll get in the way if you have to fight for the treasure !”

He looks at you with sparkling eyes...Well, with one sparkling eye. A “true pirate” obviously wears an eye-patch ! He looks at you with that one, bright blue sparkling eye, and with the deepest voice his little nine years old vocal cords can muster, he says : 

“Arrrr, a simple hat won’t get in the way of me getting my treasure ! I’ll throw it at the ruffian who wants to steal my gold from me, distract them, and then I’ll...make them fall on their butt ! ”

You chuckle and shake your head, utterly charmed, once again, by this little boy. Really, how could you resist such a sweet smile ? His cuteness emphasized by the fact that he just lost a few of his front teeth. 

“That’s a very nice technique little one ! Show me how you’d do it !” 

He jumps a bit in the air out of excitement, and takes a few steps back from you. Harboring a fighting stance, he unsheathed the wooden rapier you made for him, and the gesture makes the hat immediately fall on his eyes again...But he takes hold of it with his hand that isn’t holding his sword, and throws it at an imaginary enemy. 

He then stabs the air, yells a very piratey “Aaarrrrr” and tackle his made-up opponent fiercely. Getting back up on his feet, he takes his hat again and put it on his head and say, proudly, looking at the empty spot in front of him : 

“Stay on your butt, you miscreant ! Captain Grayson wins again !” 

But as he takes his victory pose, the tricorn falls on his eyes again, kinda ruining the moment. He turns to you, lifting it up and says : 

“...Maybe I need a smaller one.” 

You chuckle as he comes to you a bit pitifully, hat in hands. But then in a matter of seconds a smile is back on his face and he says : 

“Hey, this can be yours instead ! My second in command needs a fancy pirate hat ! This would look great on you !”

He puts the hat on your head, it fits. And his sweet smile widens. He mouth the word “perfect”, as you say, a bit mischievously :  

“Oh ? I’m your second in command ? You sure you wanna give me that much responsibilities ? What if I commit mutiny ?”

“Oh you would never !” 

“How can you be so sure ?” 

“I just know you wouldn’t !” 

“But what if I want all the gold for me ?” 

“Nah, you’re not like that ! You don’t care about rich people things ! I know because you say no to a lot of things Bruce wanna give ya ! Now, if you were Miss Kyle I’d be a bit worried. Because she would definitely try to steal the treasure for herself. She likes fancy things ! Nothing wrong with that of course, I like fancy things too ! But I wouldn’t make her my second in command...but you’re you, not her !” 

Your smile falls from your face immediately. Ugh. This is so ridiculous. You don’t want to act like that, jealousy really doesn’t look good on you (though Bruce would argue that you look cute, when jealous).

Selina Kyle is such an extraordinary woman that you can’t help but compare yourself to her, wondering why Bruce ended up choosing you. You and him had been together for a while now, but from time to time, your insecurities would surge again. In the worst moments possible. 

Like right now, as you were having fun with Dickie. 

You force a smile back on your face as the boy comes to sit next to you. He looks deep in thoughts before turning back to you and saying : 

“She’s pretty. Miss Kyle.”

“She is pretty.”

“You’re prettier.”

Oh. Oh that dear boy. You felt a bit silly that even an eight year old noticed you were bummed out by just him mentioning her name, and that he felt obligated to cheer you up. You ruffle his hair and say : 

“You’re too sweet.”

“For real ! Only saying what I think...Plus you’re nicer.”

“Selina is very nice.”

It’s true. Selina was really nice. When she realized Bruce was totally head over heels for you, and that you were a bit insecure...She completely stepped down. And started to actually flirt with you, definitely boosting your ego (I wrote a fic about that, now I can’t link it because if I do it this won’t appear in the search since Tumblr “killed” links, but you can find on the Batmom’s master list, it’s called “Insecurities schmunsecurities”.)

She actually became a close friend of yours, over the month. She was a very supportive one at that, which made you feel even guiltier that from times to times, you found yourself jealous of her. Or afraid Bruce will realize the mistake he made and go back to her, leaving you (you will realize overtime that this will never happen, that this is a ridiculous thought, Bruce being too deep in love with you). 

You hate the fact you think those things, but you can’t help it. You can’t get over all your insecurities in a matter of seconds. It’ll take years, for you to finally see things for what they are...That Selina moved on and is only friend with Bruce now. That she would never even think of trying to steal Bruce away, because that’s not who she is. That Bruce doesn’t see her as anything else but as a good friend. That he’s in love with you, and only sees you. 

Yes...It’ll take time for you to get over all this confidence issues and...Dick’s voice takes you out of your thoughts :

“Oh yes yes. She’s nice. But she um...how to say ? She’s cool. And was never mean to me. But I don’t think she cared that much about me.”

“Aw sweety, I’m sure she likes you.”

“I know she does. She thinks I’m cute”

You can’t help but chuckle at the kid’s confidence. Haha, maybe you should take his example ? Dick continues : 

“But she doesn’t...care. Not like you at least. She cared a lot about Bruce, but she just kinda liked me, you know ? While you...You like, took Bruce and I in the same package ? She likes me, but she had no intention to be to me what you and Bruce are. You know ?”

“What do you mean ?”

You ask, smoothing the tricorn’s feather absentmindedly. On that very moment, you didn’t quite realize what the kid was getting at...His next words make your heart race with joy : 

“Like...like a mom and dad ?”

He says shyly, looking up to you before avoiding your gaze. 

Silence fills the room. You want to say something, but you’re too touched and every words die in your tied throat. You’re trying very hard not to cry, in fact. But the silence stretches and Dick wiggles nervously next to you. 

Finally, he talks first, and his shaky voice breaks your heart :

“Am I...am I a terrible son ?”

“What ?”

Is the only stupid thing you can say.

“My mommy and daddy died only a year ago. And I miss them so much. Every day. But it’s getting easier ? Because you and Bruce are here ? Sometimes I almost call you...Sometimes I...wanna call you and Bruce...I want to...I...”

Tears are welling up in the boy’s eyes, and you could slap yourself for still being unable to say anything. Because what he’s saying ? You’re feeling it deep inside your bones. Your heart. Your entire being. 

You don’t know when it happened exactly, but you’ve been considering him your son for a while now. You know you’d do anything for him. And hearing him say that he considers you his...his...That he wants to call you...It’s too much for your heart. And you can’t say anything. 

But you can do something. You reach for him, remove his eye patch to truly take a good look at him and...You bring him in your arms, holding him tight against your heart, so he can hear how happy it made you that he...that he...

Later. Later you’d tell him that you knew for sure his parents wouldn’t mind if he called you and Bruce “mom and dad”. That his parents would forever be that, his parents. And because of this, they would want for him to be happy. To move on and not get stuck (like a certain Dark Knight). 

That he wasn’t a terrible son for only remembering the good times with them. That he wasn’t a terrible son if he didn’t always go see them and their graves. That he wasn’t a terrible son if he found a family again...

Later. Later you’d tell him all that. 

For now, you just held him tight against your heart, hugging him with all the love you could give. And in a whisper, holding onto you for dear life, he says : 

“...Mom...” 

************

Jason.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaare you gonna take me home tonight? Aaaaaaaaaaaaah, down beside that red fir’light Aaaaaaaaaaaaare you gonna let it all hang out? Fat bottomed girls you make the rockin' world go 'round”

Your voice mixes with Jason’s, as you skid down the floor in Wayne manor, wearing socks (they slide really well on the wooden parquet) and pajamas.

Jason is holding an oversized bowl filled with sugary junk food. Ice cream, popcorn, candies, loads of sprinkles ! And you’re using a whipped cream canister as a mic...Those things are probably what got you both on a very big sugar high ! 

This morning, Jason had a mild fever. A certain Bruce kinda freaked out and allowed him to stay home instead of going to school...Which fell perfectly well with your one day off this week ! 

Jason got over his fever before lunch time, and was getting bored. 

Enter you, with a stereo on your shoulder, blasting Queen. The boy jumped on his feet, abandoning the animated show he was watching to follow you into the kitchen, overly excited. You always came up with great and fun activities ! 

You guys started to mix every single dessert that were available in the Manor in a big mixing bowl, singing the lines of “Don’t stop me now, ‘Cause I’m having a gooood time, having a good tiiiime” to Alfred as he pointed out all of that wasn’t very healthy...The butler gave up quickly, seeing how Jason and you seemed to be beaming with joy. 

With a fond smile on his face he left the two of you alone saying a quick “clean after yourself please”, and ignored the fact that young Master Jason was climbing on the kitchen counter and was air guitaring the solo of the song, walking in and spreading sprinkles EVERYWHERE. 

And now, a few minutes later, you were dancing all around the mansion, holding your huge bowl of desserts and a whipped cream canister. 

Jason was standing on the living room’s coffee table, opening his mouth as you filled it with whipped cream, while you continued to sing : 

“Hey I was just a skinny lad -you  point at Jason, who takes a huge spoonful of ice cream - Never knew no good from bad But I knew life before I left my nursery, huh Left alone with big fat Fanny She was such a naughty nanny Heap big woman, you made a bad boy out of me Hey hey!”

You’re aware the song is a bit inappropriate for an eight years old boy...But he doesn’t really understand the lyrics and the tune is so catchy that you couldn’t care less. Plus it’s too cute to see how he wiggles his little butt to the rhythm. That kid really knew how to dance. 

You’re sliding down the corridors now. Your slippers had been discarded somewhere in the house a while ago, so you could slide properly all around the wooden and marble floors. 

Jason dances happily following after you, the huge boom box on your shoulder not hindering any of your movements. 

He takes a spoonful of dessert and puts it in your mouth, a wide smile spread on his face as he misses on purpose and spread ice cream all over your chin. 

You laugh and stick your tongue out to him, as the song continues : 

“I've been singing with my band Across the wire, across the land I seen every blue eyed floozy on the way, hey But their beauty and their style Went kind of smooth after a while Take me to them dirty ladies every time”

Yes. Lyrics definitely not appropriate. But Jason is having too much fun to realize what any of this is about. Plus he’s still such a pure and innocent little boy, you know he has no idea what most of this means. 

You’re in the house’s main hall now, where the acoustic is the best, and you both sings your lungs out. You settle the boombox on the floor, and spray a large amount of whip cream in your mouth before giving some more to Jason. 

Putting away dessert and canister, you take his hands and start jumping around the room. Just for the happy face the kid makes, all this is worth it. 

“C'mon! Oh, won't you take me home tonight? Oh, down beside your red firelight Oh, and you give it all you got Fat bottomed girls, you make the rockin' world go 'round Fat bottomed girls, you make the rockin' world go 'round”

Jason is definitely not sick anymore, and his giggles fill the house. You chase after him all around the main hall, and when you finally catch up to him he burst into a loud laughter, drowning the rest of the song with it. 

It’s contagious, as you start to crack up too, unable to stop. It’s only when the song comes to an end and the CD does too with it, the music stopping altogether, that your laughter subsides. 

Jason frowns and, turning to you, exclaims : 

“Again mom, please please, again !”

On the moment, neither of you even realize he just called you “mom”. It felt THAT natural. THAT normal. He had been in your life for months now, and this was just the definite next step to take. 

Later on, it’ll finally hit you and you’ll give him the biggest hug of them all. And for him ? Well he always wanted a caring mother, but wasn’t gifted with one at birth...So your existence was truly salvation. 

But that would come later. For now, you didn’t even notice him calling you “mom”, and he didn’t even realize he called you that, as you turned the music back on and were both dancing around the manor again, eating way too much dessert. Oh well, you’d worry about bellyaches later ! 

************

Cassandra

Cassandra didn’t speak. Couldn’t speak. 

When she needed to communicate, she’d mainly use sign language. 

She wasn’t mute. She could make sounds, use her voice. 

But she...never really learned to talk. Her biological father raised her to be the ultimate weapon, and cut her out of any social contact to try to achieve this. 

The only encounters with other people she had, was to fight...Which resulted in her being unable to speak. 

Bruce brought her home two years ago. 

And those two years were filled with a big personal journey for Cassandra. 

She communicated through vague hand gestures and drawing, at first. Then eventually learned sign language. You and Bruce spend hours and hours with her and videos, teaching it to her, as she still seemed to be unable to speak. As if something stopped her from doing so...

She learned how to interact with other people, without fighting or killing. 

She...She learned to know that she was worthy. That redemption was attainable. That it wasn’t her fault. 

Bruce was sweet, with Cassandra. More delicate than with his sons. Maybe it was because she was a girl, maybe it was because she was more broken than any of them (at the time, Damian wasn’t in your life yet). More forgiving, too, as even after he discovered her past and the fact she started to kill when she was barely eight, he didn’t give up on her. On the contrary.

He actually settled to teach her his own values. No kill. Justice. All that. And she listened. Eagerly. Abiding by his rules willingly, understanding the worth of all lives. Slowly getting over what the man who called himself his father taught her, over all this pain and misery she went through since she was born. 

And you ? Well you, you made it your mission to teach her about anything and everything. To show her the World, the one she was deprived of all those years. 

You started things slow and easy, as to not overwhelm her. 

You showed her your favorite movies and TV shows. Put on some music and talked about your favorite bands. You talked and talked and talked, hoping that maybe she’d copy you at some point ? Try to make a sound ? 

But she only listened. Eagerly. However no words came out of her mouth. 

Eventually, you moved on to things you didn’t particularly like music, movie or book wise, because you wanted her to experience “everything”. To catch up. 

She seemed to like it, so you kept going. She liked movies you hated, and vice versa. She was forming her own personality, and wasn’t trying to copy you, or to agree to everything you said. You made sure she knew it was safe to be herself, when she was with you (and with the rest of the fam). It was good. 

After a while, you took her with you on outings in Gotham. She only ever saw the city from the roofs, as she roamed them looking for her targets.  

It was such a joy, to see her eyes go wide at the sight of some shops. Or to touch trees, lost in her thoughts. Looking at ducks on the pond. Being overly excited about giving bread to said ducks. 

She became a big fan of hot dogs, and whenever she saw a cart would point at it excitedly and smile at you. You could never resist, even if Alfred would scold you afterward because you guys ate right before lunch time. 

You went to see movies at the cinema with her, took her to concerts. You took her to the mall, thinking maybe she’ll like clothes and such...And she did. Albeit not exactly what people would think. She took a liking to the “punk subculture”. And to be honest, ripped jeans, spiked necklaces, platform shoes and such fitted her perfectly. 

She went through multiple hair color phase, and each time, you supported her and dyed her hair however she liked. Because in your opinion, a teen should go through those phases !

But she still wasn’t speaking. 

Two years. Two years of you helping her discovering the world, while Bruce taught her his principles. Two years of sign language, and slowly learning she wasn’t a bad person. 

Two years. But not one word. 

You were still hopeful though. She made such progress, since she first arrived. You kept all her drawings, when she was communicating only with those, and...It broke your heart, how her first drawings always represented her as if she was the worst person in the world. 

When she met you and Bruce, saw your life, she blamed herself for so much. Both you and your husband reassured her though. She knew her past actions were wrong, which was more than most even realized ! Plus, it wasn’t her fault. It was all her “father”. All the man who turned her in a weapon. 

Because when she was finally given the choice to “repent”, she took it without hesitation. She followed Bruce. She left behind all this pain and violence to start a new life. 

Two years. For two years she followed that path. And she was great at it. You were convinced this kid was a deep empath...She cared a lot. 

But she still didn’t speak. 

You didn’t intend on giving up though. You knew one day or another she’ll find the strength to talk. But the healing process to come back from this past life of hers was long and laborious. 

She couldn't be fixed in two seconds. She needed time. So in the meantime, you’d settle on showing her everything you knew, helping her experience the “real” world. 

You were showing her one of your favorite TV show, “Gilmore Girls” when it happened. The show was mainly focused around the deep bond between a mother and her daughter, which in retrospect...Well, it made sense that it happened when you were watching this. 

You were starting the third season when...

“Mom.” 

At first, you didn’t quite register what had just happened. You were so used to her silence. In your head, it wasn’t possible that this sound you just heard came from her. 

“Mom ?” 

But it did. The main character from the show, Lorelai, was having one of her most famous quirky moments, it was one of your favorite scene and...you slowly turned towards your daughter. Your daughter ? Um ? When did you start to consider her as such ? 

The first day she entered your life, a little voice answered in the back of your head. And it was true. Cassandra became “yours” as soon as she sat foot in the batcave, with her lost little eyes and inability to properly communicate. 

“Mom.” 

She says again, pointing at the TV. At Lorelai, the main character and the “mom” of the show. You were so shocked, that you could only nod. 

Yes. Mom. 

Cassandra smiled, apparently satisfied of your reaction. She pointed at the screen again, and said : 

“Good...mom.” 

You nodded again. Yes. Yes Lorelai was a good mother. She turned back to you, pointed at you this time and said : 

“You...” 

You ? 

“Better.”

Better ? Uh ? 

“You. -she pointed at herself - My -she was pointing at you now-...mom. Yes ?” 

Your heart stopped. You felt like you were dying. Those few words...Those few words overwhelmed you. 

Two years. Two years Cassandra stayed silent, occasionally interacting through sign language, but mostly listening. Smiling, nodding, being curious...

Two years of silence. 

And when Cassandra finally found her voice. When she was finally able to speak...

“Yes Cassie. Yes. Your mom. Yours. I’m...” 

You said, chocking on your own voice, barely audible, as you brought her into a hug. 

“You. The one. Cannot speak now.” 

Cassandra says, amusement in her voice. And it’s true, this time...this time you’re the one struggling to get any words out. 

Two years of silence finally broken, as your daughter found her voice. 

“You. My mom.” 

************

Tim.

You were so, so, so so so so so SO proud. 

Tears filled your eyes, as you saw him on the stage, holding proudly his trophy. 

Things were made even more beautiful because...This was a normal moment, in a normal kid’s life. This didn’t involve capes, too many coffees and hours of sleep spend on the computer instead of in a bed. 

This was all...Normal. 

Tim had been in yours and Bruce’s life for a few years now. At first, his parents were still alive so he still lived with them...but they never noticed when he was gone. Parents of the year right ? When they died, it seemed logical to adopt him as your own. 

He was such a smart boy, guessing at the mere age of eight who Batman really was, while no one else in Gotham seemed to have a clue. 

But because he was so damn intelligent, his life...His life really hadn’t been normal. All of your kids’ life wasn’t quite normal, but you somehow always managed to give them a semblance of normality. By playing with them, by being silly with them etc etc. 

But Tim ? Well. Tim was too focused. Tim never quite really acted like a normal boy. He reminded you a lot of Bruce, but Bruce was a grown ass man now. And even him, according to Alfred, had his moments of being a kid even after his parents’ death. He also lived eight blissful years being the most spoiled child in the World...

But Tim ? Tim never acted like a boy his age. Sure, he played sometimes. And he joined in on Disney movie night. He would accept your cuddles and affectionate hair ruffling any time. He loved when you read him a bed time story...But those moments were so rare ! 

So here, right now, at his school’s science fair...You were just incredibly proud and happy. Because it just felt like he was a normal kiddo. 

Still smart as hell, sure, but that he had “normal” worries. 

That very same morning, he was so stressed and scared of not winning the fair. That his experience wouldn’t work. That he’d be ridiculous. 

He had “normal” kid of his age worries ! Albeit, you wished he didn’t had any worries at all, but it was nice to see him act just like all the other ten years old at the fair. 

It was also nice to see he had many friends at his school. That he wasn’t a loner, that he didn’t isolate himself like he sometimes did at home. 

If you didn’t go look for Tim to spend time with him, he would get lost in his work and never come out of his room. Forgetting to sleep and eat. He was way too dedicated...Well. Again. He reminded you a lot of Bruce. 

But here he was, being a normal boy, proud to present his work at a normal science fair. 

Of course, you and Bruce came to see him. And he seemed so happy, when he saw you coming in the room. 

It kinda broke your heart, that he wasn’t sure if you would come or not. He did reserve you some seats though, in the front. 

“I’m not sure I’ll win, I probably won’t but...I’m glad you came !”  

You saw him worked on his project for the past six months, and it was amazing. Maybe it’s because he was your son but you were sure he’d win.

Wait. Your son ? Um...no. No question mark. 

Yes. Your son. 

He still called you and Bruce by your first name, but in your heart, he was your son. Yours. 

And oh, seeing him so proud and happy to show you his work, and to introduce you to his friends...it was such a joy ! 

Plus, it was so rare to hear him blabber about normal subject. It made your heart beat with happiness when he whispered in your hear that he had a crush on the girl whose project was just next to his. She was a “smart cookie”. 

You and Bruce teased him a bit about it, just enough so that he would still tell you things afterward and not be vexed or anything like that. 

He showed you around his school, and...He just talked so much ! It was great. 

And then...Then the day arrived to its end. 

He was sitting between you and Bruce, holding yours and Bruce’s hand tightly to his forehead as if to give him courage, waiting eagerly for the result of the contest and...His name. It’s his name they called. 

People applauded, but no one quite cheered him on as much as you and Bruce. You whistled, yelled “YAAAAY TIMMMMMYYY !!” while Bruce was telling to whoever was listening that it was “his son”.  

The boy climbed on the stage, and was handed his trophy. 

And oh you were so proud. And he looked so happy, so far from the dark world he lived in at times...Seeing him so happy, made you happy. 

Just like seeing him sad made you sad. He was your son. Your little boy. You wanted only the best for him, and sometimes it was so difficult to give it to him...

Not today though. No. Today, you were glad you encouraged him to take part in the science fair contest. Because oh he just looked so joyful ! 

The teacher asked him if he wanted to give a quick speech, and you got a bit worried. Tim was such an introvert, public speaking was definitely not something he enjoyed. 

And yet, yet he grabbed the mic excitedly and yelled : 

“Mom ! Dad ! I won ! Look ! Look I have a trophy !! Look it’s almost as big as me ! Look mom !! Look dad look !!” 

He was trotting all around the stage, under people’s fond laugh. Everyone was definitely thinking about how cute that little kid was ! And he was...yours ! 

No more first names. “Mom”. “Dad”. And he won. The trophy...The trophy was really almost as big as him (damn private school and their bling bling). 

You were an absolutely blubbering mess by the time he jumped down back to the seat and showed off proudly his trophy to you, calling you “mom” and “dad” repeatedly as if it was the most natural thing in the world. 

And it was. Because he was yours. Your little boy...

************

Damian.

“Stop, stooooop ! I’m fine, I really am ! Oh my god unhand me now !!” 

Damian tried to wiggle out of your grasp, but you were holding onto him too tightly for him to be able to. Exasperated to the maximum, he yelled : 

“MOM, LET ME GO AT ONCE !! I’M OKAY !!!” 

This did the trick. You let go off him and just stared at him, shocked.

What did he just call you ? 

He looked at you and let out a nervous chuckle. He...He didn’t really mean to call you that. 

Or rather, he meant to do so for a long time, but never dared. Because what if you didn’t want to be his mom ? What if you didn’t want him as a son ? He wasn’t technically yours, after all. 

Now of course, none of your kids were technically yours, and yet you accepted all of them. But Damian...Damian was actually Bruce’s son. So he thought...He thought maybe you hated him for existing ? Even though he was conceived before you got with Bruce ? 

Damian was overthinking. And he never overthought. Not on such matters at least. Because you know what ? He was so sure he didn’t care about you, at first. So sure it didn’t matter if you didn’t like him, because you were just “the woman married to his father”. 

But then...Then he changed his mind. Because even though he wasn't yours, and even though he was really mean to you, you still treated him like you treated your other children. 

Even though he was a brat who insulted you many times...You never got mad at him. Sure, you got a bit snarky a few times, but just enough to make him realize he was being ridiculous, and yet not ridiculing him. 

You even stopped Bruce from getting mad at him (your husband had the tendency to always jump in to defend your honor, even if you could defend yourself just fine...it was actually rather cute, in the end). 

Instead, you just accepted him as he was. You withstand his tantrums, not batting an eye. You listened to his rant, without ever scolding him, but instead conversing with him. Trying to show him another point of view. 

Damian didn’t want to get attached to you...But it just kinda..Happened. 

He had been wanting to call you “mom” for a while, by now, but never dared. Because he was afraid you’d reject him, even if you shown nothing but understanding to him. He just...Well, he wasn’t sure his heart could bear your rejection. 

He never really had a real loving mother. Instead of good night kisses, his mother left him beaten half to death in his bed, left him to take care of himself. 

He never had bed time stories, but assassins send in the middle of the night to train him to be always vigilant. He never had cuddles, but punches. 

And sure, he had encouraging words, but they were all about him becoming ruthless and heartless, and one day ruling the world. Not about him being close to beating his high score in a video game ! 

No. He never had...Someone like you. A real mother...A mom. And he was afraid that if he finally called you “mom”, the spell would be broken. You would be weirded out, and things would change.

But tonight...Tonight as he came back to the bat cave, something snapped in him. That night, his intercom broke in a fight and you were worried sick that something might have happened to him as you had no news. 

And when he came back, and only had a few bruises and cuts...You just couldn’t hold yourself anymore. You were completely unaware of Damian’s inner turmoil about calling you “mom”, because for you...he was your son. 

He became your son that first time he finally warmed up to you, finally smiled at you and said “yes” to playing a simple board game with you. And you thought you made it clear enough that you considered him your son...But oh, to Damian, who wasn’t used to it, of course it would be scary. And of course he would be unsure if he understood things well or not. 

As soon as he came in the cave, and you saw he was unharmed, you rushed to him and took him in your arms. Making sure not to touch his bruises and cuts. 

And that’s when it happened.

That’s when Damian struggled against your hug because oh my god he was fine ok ?! No need to worry that much !! 

That’s when Damian said, in the most natural way ever, “mom”. Because of course...of course only a mother could be THAT worried about him. Right ? 

That night, something truly snapped inside him. Suddenly, everything made sense. Yes. Of course. 

“Really mom, I’m fine.” 

His siblings, his father and Alfred were all looking at him, a wide smile on their faces. His brothers and his sister remembering the day they themselves first called you “mom”. 

And you ? Well, you had one of your famous “burst of affection” all of a sudden, and grabbed onto your son, crying and saying : 

“My baby boyyyyyyyyyy !!”

It made Damian incredibly happy, those few words...Even as you were almost suffocating him under your hugs and kisses. 

____________________________________________

I feel like I wrote a lot of stuffs talking about what Batmom means to those kids. Talking about how they feel about her and vice versa. But I realized I never wrote about that first time they called her...”mom”. If you want all the background infos about how everything came to be, go check my other “Batmom x Batkids” fics (especially the sad ones at the end of the list, if you know what I mean) :). Anyway I hope you liked this thing I wrote on the spur of the moment, and as usual, feedbacks and reblogs = LIFE. On that note, it’s very VERY late (again, I got carried away) so I’m off to bed. See ya soon !

PS : If you’re wondering why Duke does not appear, simple reason : while he’s a member of the Batfam and all, I don’t think he considers Bruce (and by extension Batmom) like a dad (and so mom). Bruce is definitely a mentor. And he takes care of him while his parents are “sick”...But Duke’s parents are still alive, and there will eventually be a cure for what they have. Know what I mean ? I feel like Duke is more like a “cousin”, a “nephew”, than a son. HOWEVER, to compensate the fact I didn’t write about him here...I’ll write an entire fic just about him and how he fits in the Batfam. Because I can. Bam.

PPS : Appreciate this cute Dick Grayson from Earth 42. Imagine him looking like this in the fic, but with a pirate costume. Cute lil Dickie. Also, his story was the longest out of all the Batboys because I realized he’s the one I made interact with Batmom the least. And Damian’s is the shortest one because I wrote a LOT of stuffs with him bonding with Batmom :). 

[suueeeeeee]

Superhuman.

Warnings: mentions of death, cursing, I don’t know what else xD.

A\N; so this is like my second or third time writing so no judging! This is a part of Cavillanche writing challenge, but I’ve been too lazy to do it, so here it is! hope you all like it.

Word count: 3155.

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Looking over Gotham’s bright lights again was a dream that Anna never really knew it would come true. Last time she was in the city was when she was merely a few years old, so it was all a distant memory that she barely remembers. She smiled as the tall, clouds-ripping sky scraper came into the view and all that she could only do was let her mind fall back to her late parents. However, she was soon ripped off of her thoughts as she heard the pilot’s announcement of the nearing land. She was bouncing her legs from how excited she was to be back home to her favourite two people. With her assistants following behind her as she departure the jet, smiling widely as the two men finally come into her view as they’re waiting for her down the plane’s stairs.

Last two or three steps may have been a delusion to her as she skipped past them, nearly knocking her tall brother over. Laughing loudly both of them, twirling and as everyone seemed to be moving past them, they stayed in their tight embrace, not seeming to have yet gotten bored.

“well well well, if it isn’t for the old Bruce Wayne.” She teased as they finally let go of each other and she stood back on her high heels covered feet.

“well well well if it isn’t for the biggest child on earth.” Bruce shot right back at her as he looked at her with a faint smile that could only be seen once in a few hundred years.

Bruce never smiled, never once uttered a joke or had a fun light hearted conversation with anyone in the whole world except for Alfred and Anna. When their parents died leaving a 15 year-old Bruce in charge of his only 8 months’ sister, it was as if the whole world had stopped. What the hell was he supposed to do? Where to go? What would happen to them? Having to face the cruelty of the world very soon in age, Bruce realized how dangerous Gotham can be, especially for the lots like him and Anna, and he couldn’t bear the fact of losing her as well as their parents. Therefore, he made the toughest decision someone could ever take. He sent her abroad to be raised and educated and promised himself that the moment he makes Gotham safe, Anna would be back home, in his arms.

But much to his displeasure, the moment she graduated it was decided that she would go back to Gotham, no matter how many arguments they had over the phone, or how many warnings Bruce had sent. He knew that his sister grew into that beautiful young woman that had an extraordinary mind of her own, and a very stubborn one at that, so when he saw that there were no point in stopping her, he decided on the lesser evil and have her back to protect her as she stayed right beside him.

She glanced behind Bruce, looking at Alfred, not their butler no, Alfred was her father, he raised her, he gave them the unconditioned love of both parental figures.

“Aren’t you going to welcome me, Al?” she grins, heading to crash him in a hug and she feels his chest vibrating with a small chuckle at the nickname that she still called him.

“How could I not miss Wayne?” smiles as she pulls back, looking at him with a small pout.

“Are you ever going to stop calling me that?” she sighs as she shakes her head at him, not believing that he never even once in her lifetime called her by her first name.

“I don’t think so.” He winks at her as he points to her assistants and guides them to the car where they load all of her luggage and bags. She clings to Bruce’s side, linking her arms with him as they both walk together.

“What’s up with you?” Bruce glances down at her as he feels her tight grip around his arm and her clinginess are being doubled up.

“Nothing, I just really missed you and I’m happy to finally be back.” She shrugs, looking up at him with a sincere smile. He wraps his arms around his shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

“Put your face down and be ready.” He mumbles, knowing that a crowd of paps are going to be surrounding the airport and he wanted to stay low as much as possible. She nods, looking down, with her sunglasses over her eyes to hide her and her hands over her head, and that was enough until they got in the car and started heading home.

“Wow, it’s still intense as ever.” She lets out a breath of relief as they manage to dodge the nosey reporters. Bruce nods her head and looks outside the window, and as if on cue, she senses his discomfort, placing her hand over his knee.

“Are you alright?” she asks quietly as she looks at him with a look of concern, but he only shrugs her off and smiles trying to reassure her, yet she knows her brother better than to be fooled by that act.

“Bruce, I can tell that there’s something bothering you. What is it?” she raised an eyebrow at him, and for a second he was speechless. What would he say? Oh yeah, just plotting a plan to get rid of that clown in the blue and red suit? He decided against it and looked back out of the window, causing her frown to deepen. She glanced at Alfred in the mirror and he just nodded his head which meant that he would be telling you later.

The moment they got home, she felt the jet lag kicking in and she excused herself to her room. She ignored all the servants the wanted the room to unpack her stuff and she just went straight for the bed, informing everyone not to wake her up for any reason, even if it was dinner. After a good 14 hour-nap, she woke up I the middle of the night, feeling thirsty and in need of some food. She wrapped a robe around her tiny figure and went to the kitchen, she noticed that the place was too quiet, it was 3 a.m in the middle of the night after all, but she didn’t find Bruce nor Alfred in their rooms.

She grinned as she knew it only meant one thing. They’re in the batcave. She only saw Bruce in the suit a handful of times, but she was still overwhelmed by the sense of pride, protection and fear. She headed to the cave, only to hear their angry voices. She decided that it was the best idea to stay back and listen, since she knew that they would’ve been talking about whatever’s been pissing Bruce off.

“Master Wayne, this is not right.” Alfred said calmly, yet his voice was full of rage.

“What do you want me to do Alfred? leave that clown fly around with his super power that only god knows its limit? I will not allow it.” Bruce practically yelled and she could only assume they were talking about one clown.

Superman. Oh how Bruce hated him, she never understood why though. She looked up to him, she always thought he was just a man seeking acceptance amongst the human race. She respected him deeply for the fact that he wasn’t obligated to protect them, yet he did and people still hate him. She could never voice her thoughts to Bruce cause he would’ve disowned her right away.

“I’m not going to sit around and watch him destroy everything again. He did it once. Who knows what he’ll bring next.” Bruce speaks calmly and she sees something shiny, something green? She frowns, trying to have a better look.

“and you think that having the only means to kill him is the best option?” Alfred speaks up again and she gasps, making both men turn to her direction. She comes out from behind the big wall and she stares at Bruce and disbelief. “K…kill him?” she whispers with teary eyes as she looks at him with a look of both horror and confusion. Bruce frowns more and looks at her,

“You don’t understand. He…” he tried to reason with her, but she cut him off.

“No! I completely understand. I knew you hated him Bruce, but not to this extinct! This is wrong! I won’t let you!” she glares at Bruce, yelling at him in a tone she’s never used it with him ever once in her life.

“I’m trying to protect us. I won’t kill him. This is just a safety precaution.” He looks at her with a serious look.

“that guy who killed our parents, he knew he had a gun, he had the intention. What’s the difference between you two now?” she spoke in a monotone voice, she knew she hit a nerve for Bruce, but she couldn’t just let him fall into that place. Her brother wasn’t a murderer, but she knew he wasn’t in his best state the last couple of years. His demons were getting the best of him, and she was trying to help but being far from him wasn’t that much of an aid. He told her that she was the last thread he was hanging to for his own sanity. She was trying, but standing and seeing someone innocent die wasn’t a part of the deal.

She left behind a hurt Bruce and a shocked Alfred and she went back to sleep, However, that night she couldn’t blink an eye, far too engrossed in her thoughts. After a few hours, she finally went back to sleep, only to be awoken 2 hours later at 9 a.m.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She groaned as she felt someone quietly shake her.

“Go away or you’re fired.” She mumbles to whoever maid was trying to wake her up from her peaceful slumber. She heard a deep chuckle, then feeling the bed dig down.

“This is why I’m always the one waking you up, miss Wayne.” Alfred spoke with a small smile, placing the ray of breakfast next to her. She hummed at the smell and looked at him with only an open eye.

“Cause I would never fire you.” She smiles at him, sitting up in bed and feels her stomach growl at the sight of food. Alfred pats her head and gets up to leave the room, but she quickly stops him.

“Ummm….. Where’s Bruce?” she asks, quietly, looking down at the toast, feeling a little it ashamed of what she said the previous night.

“He left very early, having to attend to some business. And also, he’s informing you that he’s throwing you a welcome party this evening so get ready.” Alfred sends her a small smile then leaves the room before she even starts to protest which she ,both, internally and externally groans about.

“God, I hate that stuff.” She huffs to herself and starts to eat in silence. She decided to go back to sleep, still not fully recovered from her long flight. She decided to leave all the preparations to Alfred an the maids and just spoil herself with extra hours of beauty sleep.

The night rolls in and she starts getting ready by putting on an off-shoulder long black dress, with a slit from the side that reaches her mid thigh. Her ears and hands, decorated by the finest designs of jewelries. She absolutely despised those galas, because of the amount of hypocrisy that stands within those snobby rich bastards, who all come to kiss their asses for some sort of an investment. She puts on a fake smile all the way, mentally applauding herself for surviving and even making a speech about oh how she’s so happy to be back to her beloved city with them all. She was in the middle of a conversation with some empty headed rich heiresses of other companies when she spotted Bruce talking to someone who seemed to be a reporter.

“Is everything alright?” She smiled at the two men, placing her hand on Bruce’s arm. She looked at the other man, biting her lip instantly. He was a piece of work, tall, masculed, deep blue eyes, black hair, cute glasses. She was blushing as she noticed that she’s been staring at that handsome stranger. She cleared her throat as she felt her face and neck turn red, extending her hands to him.

“Anna Wayne, nice to meet you.” She smiles, flirtatiously at him, with a sultry expression that screams to just let him take her right where they were standing.

He smiles softly, glancing at Bruce who was deeply frowning at the situation, before deciding to take her hands in his, pressing a soft kiss to its back, noticing how small and soft they are. They seem to be in a world of their own, only to be rudely interrupted by Bruce’s voice.

“Mr. Kent has already taken his statement. We shall go.” He doesn’t wait for any of them to respond and just pulls Anna with him, but she looks back at Clark with a strange feeling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Months after Anna’s safe return to Gotham, she dives into work, deciding that it was about time she helped Bruce out with the business, sometimes taking over as he went off and played hero, she never minded though, she knew he was doing good, but the whole subject about yhe Kryptonite and Superman hunted her. Will Bruce be really doing that? Is he really considering finishing superman off?

She shook off those thoughts and she knew that they were just empty threats. Bruce always did those whenever he was angry. That confrontation night between them both now long gone, along with the mean words she threw.

It was one rainy night when all hell broke loose. She was just back from some late night conference calls at the company, with aching feet from the herls she’s been enduring all day, to find a very anxious Alfred, pacing back and forth. The moment she steps inside the house, he stares at her not knowing what to say.

“What’s wrong?” She frowns, walking to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water with her back to Alfred, but when she doesn’t get a response, a bad feeling seeps into her. She turns to look at Alfred, who has this lost look on his face. “What is it?” She insists, putting the bottle down, looking at him seriously.

“It seems like Master Wayne has decided to finish the business with superman.” Alfred speaks quietly and her face goes pale. That could only be summed into one possibility . A one that she didn’t want to think about. She trusted Bruce, she knew what he was capable of, but that was superman we’re speaking off. He was literally a Superhuman with a power of 1000x men combined. If he wanted Bruce down, he would take him in one shot.

All she could think about was that she was running to her car in the pouring rain, bare feet, with Alfred calling after her. She drives off into the dark night, turning on the GPS she has on him. She asked Alfred to secretly connect her devices to the GPS in all of Bruce’s suits and batmobiles. She drives off to the port and runs around like a maniac, with a soaked dress, scratched, blooded and cut feet from the harsh floor and a tear stained face. She looks everywhere until she spots the green light and runs there.

“STOP!” She screams, climbing up the destroyed remains of buildings. Bruce whips his head around at the sound of his sister and watches in disbelief as she throws her body over the huge mass of the man with the blue suit. She looks up at Bruce with red eyes.

“Don’t do it. You’d be no better than those criminals.” She begs with a weak voice, trying to get to Bruce, trying to get to the inside of him. Not that harsh appearance of a man that was leaning before her.

“Anna, it’s not the same. Move.” He growls at her, which only makes her tighten her grip around Superman, looking at his vulnerable face, feeling both sad and angry. She looks up at Bruce again, with a look of determination and anger.

“You’ll have to go through me. I won’t let you.” She spits when she hears him whimper behind her. “Save Martha.” He lets out, gasping, making the two siblings look at each other with a stunned expression. Bruce pushes past her only to hold him by his collar, while she still tries to process what he would mean.

“Why did you say that name?!” Bruce yells so loud that echoes can be heard far away and Anna stand in front of them, wanting to move but for some reason she seems to be tied down. Immediately, a woman comes running in, separating Bruce from Superman.

“That’s his mother’s name!” She gasps as she examines Superman’s body and tries to stop the killing expression on Bruce’s face. He steps back next to Anna and glances at her, seeing as she wrapped her arms around herself, frowning but still somewhat of a frightened expression on her face.

“Lex said he would kill her if I didn’t fight you. I was trying to explain.” Superman coughs out as the woman next to him tries to support him to stand up. You share a look with him, then quickly look at Bruce, who sighs and closes her eyes as if thinking.

“I’ll save her, you go deal with Lex.” Bruce grumbles, taking off at once. You look at him and release a breath you didn’t know you’ve been holding. All of a sudden, you feel your legs goving out underneath you, as all of the action that happened started to take a toll on you. You prepare yourself to be hit to the ground, instead you land on a soft body. You look up, seeing the red ‘S’ symbol and you smile gratefully at him.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” He whispered as he stroked your face gently, looking at you with a look that was mixed with love, confusion and appreciation. She looked at him with a small smile and uttered out with the last bit of energy she had left.

“Because you’re more human than the rest of us.” She whispers.

@cavillanche

[saultnpeppah]

Day 7: Wedding Day

*hides from shame because of how late this is* Sorry guys...

December 31. Wayne Manor. 23:59:50

Diana

"Ten. Nine. Eight."

The countdown to the new year begins and my heart flutters as I hear each number, realizing soon it'll be the day of Bruce and my wedding.

"Seven. Six."

The room is filled with our wedding party and family, including my mother. I can see she is exhausted, having been working nonstop since flying in a few days ago with Antiope, but she was quick to decline the invitation to turn in early, knowing we would have a busy day tomorrow. She wanted to bring in the New Year with me and Donna together for the first time in years.

Beside my mother stands Antiope, a glass of champagne in hand as she flings her head back and laughs at something Alfred says. It has only been a few months since she and my mother have begun dating, and my mother was hesitant to tell me she was dating a woman, but now that I see the two of them I know it was all worth it. Antiope makes my mother happy, and her happiness is all I ever wanted.

"Five. Four."

Clark and Lois stand by the door, stealing sweet kisses and whispering amongst themselves, knowing it'll be another day before they will sleep beside each other. Bruce and I had agreed to spend the night away from each other, wanting to get a bit of separation before the wedding, so Oliver had rented a house by the bay, wanting all the guys to have one last night together before the first marriage of the group.

So I had invited all the girls to stay at the manor, knowing if they stayed to celebrate the New Year like they insisted, they wouldn't want to travel back home only to get a mere few hours of sleep. It was only after they agreed had I felt better about inviting everyone over the night before our wedding, letting our rehearsal dinner extend late into the night, until we stood watching the television, smiles on our faces as we watched the countdown to the new year continue.

"Three. Two."

I sneak a glance toward the fireplace where Shayera and John stand, flirting without a care who sees. Wally and Oliver sit in front of the television, a beer in each of their hands, simultaneously watching the countdown and trying to convince Donna to visit Star City the next time she is in the states.

Charlie and her wife, who looks absolutely fabulous for having a baby two months ago, stands next to my mother, showing her photos of the baby, ignoring the countdown, which only makes Mother smile, her thoughts swirling. She's already asked me when Bruce and I will be having kids, but I fear the longer she looks at the baby photos, the more questions will be asked.

"One. Happy New Year!"

Everyone erupts into cheers and I smile as I watch everyone find a special someone to kiss to bring in the New Year, my eyes narrowing as I watch Wally kiss Donna, but I decide to shake it off knowing he has no ill intentions.

A pair of hands wrap around my waist and flip me around, making me squeal in surprise as I try not to spill the champagne in my hand. Bruce smiles and presses his forehead against mine, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose, and takes a deep breath. "Happy New Year, Diana," he says.

The grip on my waist tightens as I lean into him and whisper, "Happy New Year," before I pull him in for a kiss. Our lips meet and I can hardly contain my smile as my free hand moves to rest on his shoulder. This is the man I will be celebrating all my New Years with, the man who will be by my side as I look forward to new beginnings and bright and wonderful changes.

No sooner have my lips found his is someone standing next to us, clearing their throat, forcing me to pull back from my fiance. "Save some of that for the wedding," Mother says with a smirk. Bruce reciprocates with a smirk of his own and I turn my head away, trying not to let my mother see the faint blush that has crept onto my cheeks. I know he is not thinking of the wedding, but rather of the night that is to follow, and I'd much rather not have my mother know my rather unwholesome thoughts.

"Now, it's time for the men to go," she says as she places a gentle hand on Bruce's shoulder. "The bride needs her rest."

Bruce feigns a sigh of disappointment. "What about Alfred?" he says, knowing nothing he says will stop my mother from shooing him out of the manor.

Mother only shakes her head. "Alfred can stay," she says, "but you must go."

Bruce nods and drops his hand from my waist, whispering, "Fine, kick me out of my own house," only loud enough for me to hear. When Mother turns and raises an eyebrow he only smiles widely, leans in to steal one final kiss, and rushes toward the door, where Clark is waiting with his coat.

"I'll see you at the altar," he calls over his shoulder as he steps out onto the snow covered stoop. "I love you."

"I love you too," is all I say, watching as Clark shuts the door with a small wave, before Mother plucks the champagne glass from my hand and forces me up the stairs and into my bed, wanting me to be well rested for later today.

January 1. Wayne Manor. 07:10

Diana

There is another knock on the bedroom door and I want nothing more than to shoo away the person on the other end, wishing for a few more moments of rest. Sleep did not come easily to me last night, or rather this morning, as both nerves mixed with excitement filled me, keeping me up well into the early morning. Today I am getting married. Today I become someone's wife, and although I know I should be thrilled, I can't help but wish I could sneak away and get another hour of sleep. Surely Bruce would understand. But the thought of standing in front of him, clothed in the beautiful gown Alfred worked so hard on, makes my heart skip a beat, and I roll over trying to steady my pulse for what seems like the hundredth time.

Another knock fills the room forcing a grumble from my lips as I turn once again to Bruce's empty spot on the bed, clutching at the empty sheets where my fiance usually sleeps. It still smells like him and I can't help but smile when I realize I will get to sleep next to him for the rest of our lives.

The bedroom door creaks open and my mother pops her head inside. "Diana," she calls, stepping into the room, "it's time to get up."

Letting out a groan I sit up and pull the covers from my body, rubbing the last bit of sleep from my eyes as my mother comes up to the bed and takes a seat on the edge of the mattress. She says nothing as she fiddles with the sheets on the bed, her mind racing as she realizes her eldest daughter is getting married today.

"Is everyone else awake?" I ask as I stand from the bed. I notice her nod her head slowly and I nod my own in response, walking over to my closet, where my robe is hanging. "Do we know when Donna's-" my words catch in my throat when I see my mother sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at me, tears falling from her eyes as she watches me drop the article of clothing and rush to her side.

"What's wrong?" I ask, taking a seat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

She only shakes her head and reaches up to place a hand on my face. "How have I been so busy, so caught up with work and duties that I missed you growing up." She cups my face and reaches over with her free hand, grasping my hand in hers and says, "How is my little sun and stars already getting married?"

I flash her a smile, close my eyes, and kiss the palm of her hand. "I may be getting married, but I will always be your sun and stars." My eyes open to see my mother smile and I know even though she cries, they are now tears of happiness. We may have had a troubled past, both unable to understand why the other would do the opposite of what we wanted, but things have changed. I have come to appreciate the sacrifices my mother has made for me and she has come to trust the decisions I have made for myself, including Bruce.

"Good," she says. "And because you're my child, if Bruce hurts you, I will kill him."

I let out a small chuckle as I stand from the bed, pulling her up to stand beside me, and nod. "You'll have to get in line," I say as I loop my arm through hers. "Donna and Antiope have already threatened him."

My mother lets out a laugh as she wipes the last remaining tears from her eyes, before she leads me into the bathroom. "Good," she says. "Now, go shower and meet everyone downstairs for breakfast. I will not have you passing out on your wedding day because you did not eat."

"Of course, Mother," I say with a chuckle, plucking a towel from the shelf beside the door, before the door shuts and I start the shower.

January 1. Downtown Gotham. 12:32.

Bruce

You can tell a lot about a man from his eyes. I used to think that wasn't true, that it was all just something made up, but as I stand in front of the full length mirror beside the open bedroom door, I now know it is true. Staring into the eyes of the man in the reflection, I don't see the hurt I used to carry all those years, the pain of having been the only surviving Wayne. I don't see the constant anger I harbored, nor do I see the hatred for the man who took away my parents. No, in the eyes of the man in the mirror I see hope. I see a man who is happy, who is excited to see what is in store. I see a man who is set to marry his best friend.

My eyes continue to stare at my reflection, a crooked smile on my face as I finish tightening the tie around my neck. In an hour and a half I will be marrying Diana, and I can't help but thank her gods, and every other god in the universe, for getting us here. I've been in love with her for as long as I can remember, but never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine we'd be here, on our wedding day, ready to make the commitment I have wanted for so long.

There is a knock on the door and my eyes glance up toward the open doorway. Clark stands there, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the door frame, his right eyebrow arched behind thick glasses. "Why?" is all he asks as he lifts the tie that is fastened around his neck.

I assume he is wondering why we chose the hue of purple that we both now wear, but I can't explain it in a way he will comprehend. Understandably, I was also a bit skeptical of wearing purple, as it wasn't something that was normally in my wardrobe, but when Diana was able to find the perfect grey tuxedos to compliment the color, I was more willing to wear it for a few hours.

I let my shoulders shrug as I finish flattening my collar, taking the knot of the tie and jiggling it around until it is perfectly placed in the center of my throat. "It's Diana's favorite color," I say.

I can see Clark's reflection in the mirror as he straightens himself and fixes his own tie. "Diana's favorite color is blue," he states, his eyebrows raising once more.

I turn away from the mirror and give my head a small shake, letting Clark know my original statement was true. "She tells everyone her favorite color is blue," I say, "but she loves purple." It is something I have known since high school, and although Clark and Diana used to date, it seems like it was something that never came up.

Clark walks into the room, stopping beside me as he places a hand on my shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. "Bruce," he begins, letting out a sigh as he drops his head. "I'm sorry." It is my turn to raise an eyebrow, confused, as he continues. "I knew you were in love with Diana in college, and when you denied it, I knew I should've seen past the lie, but instead I went after her. I betrayed you as a friend, and I never truly apologized for that."

It's true. I was hurt when Clark went after Diana in college, but it was my fault. If I would have just admitted I had feelings for Diana, if I would have admitted I was in love with her, Clark and I would have never had the fallout after graduation. I'm glad we're able to have that brotherly relationship back, as I missed him more than he knows.

"In college I was not the man she deserved," I admit, knowing twenty year old me was not the man that Diana needed nor deserved. She needed someone who was willing to be vulnerable, and although I loved her, I still was afraid to let my wall down with anyone, especially her. "Beside, it's all in the past," I say, nudging his shoulder as I reach for the tuxedo jacket that is hanging off the corner of the mirror. Oliver walks into the room as I pull the jacket on, buttoning it as I watch him turn to look at himself in the mirror, admiring his freshly groomed beard.

"You ready to get married?" Oliver asks, never once tearing his eyes away from his own reflection. I scoff and nod my head, knowing he can see my action in the glass, before he winks and nods. "Let's go!" He rushes out of the room and down the hall, forcing Clark to shake his head and chuckle.

"I guess it's time to go get you hitched," Clark says with a smirk, watching as I scowl at him.

"We're not in Kansas," I say unamused. Clark only chuckles once more and shrugs. The two of us make our way to the doorway and step out into the hallway. "By the way," I say, remembering the message that was left on my phone yesterday afternoon, "Gustavo says your order is ready."

January 1. Wayne Manor. 13:53.

Diana.

My heart continues to pound as I listen to the sounds of our guests filling the conservatory downstairs. The ceremony starts in a few minutes and the nerves are finally starting to catch up to me, the thoughts of Bruce standing at the front of the aisle making me as giddy as a school girl with a crush.

There is a small knock on the door before it opens slowly, allowing Alfred to step inside. He smiles at the woman standing by the door, either Lois or Antiope, I can't remember, who is making sure Bruce does not see me before the ceremony, before his eyes glance up to see me standing beside my mother and Donna. His eyes roam over the dress and his smile widens, happy to know the dress he created for me is part of this perfect day. "Ms. Diana," he says, reaching out to hold my hands, "you look absolutely beautiful."

I blush at Alfred's compliment, letting the older Englishman, who has become the only father figure I have had in my life, brush the veil from my face to kiss my cheek. "Thank you, Alfred," I say.

Alfred looks over to my mother, who is wiping away tears for the third time today, although I suspect it will not be the last, and continues to smile. "And Ms. Hippolyta, you look beautiful as well," he says, watching as my mother glances down at her dress before returning his compliment with a smile. She thanks him with a small nod and blots the tears from under her eyes with a handkerchief. "Now, I do believe it is time to get going. Master Wayne is nervously awaiting your entrance."

I nod, turning to the mirror once more to get one last look of my reflection in the dress, before I turn to my mother. "It's time," I say, reaching out for my mother's hand, smiling when she places her hand in mine and gives it a gentle squeeze.

13:59. Bruce.

The music begins to play and I take a deep breath. This is it. I am used to being in the spotlight, so I don't know why I suddenly feel so nervous, but it's a good feeling.

"You ready?" Clark whispers, nudging my shoulder with his.

I nod, watching as Alfred comes down the stairs to join me and the rest of the wedding party, who are all dressed and ready to go. "She looks beautiful, Master Wayne," Alfred says with a smirk, taunting me, knowing I am desperate to see my fiance. "It is time to begin."

He opens the door and steps into the conservatory and Clark and I follow close behind, making our way to the front of the room, where we turn to greet the guests with a smile. Martha Kent sits in the front row, flashing me a wide grin when I give her a small wave, grateful that she is here. Beside Alfred, she is the closest thing to a parent I have had since I was eight.

Beside Martha is an empty seat, where Hippolyta will sit once she walks Diana down the aisle. Antiope sneaks along the wall, quietly taking her seat beside Hippolyta's empty chair and gives me two thumbs up, letting me know everyone is ready to go.

The door to the conservatory opens once more and Oliver and Lois step into the room. Lois' arm is looped into Oliver's as the two begin their decent down the aisle, each smiling widely as they make their way to where Alfred, Clark, and I stand. At the end of the aisle the two separate, and go to their respective sides, waiting for the rest of the wedding party to come down.

The rest of the couples come down the aisle, Shayera with John, Wally with Charlie, each standing beside the other bridesmaids and groomsmen. Donna comes down by herself, as she is Diana's maid of honor, meaning Diana is right around the corner.

The music coming from the group of musicians in the corner fades out and a new tune begins to play. Everyone stands from their seats and turns to face the back of the room where Diana and her mother have appeared, arm in arm, ready to walk down the aisle.

My breath catches in the back of my throat when I lay eyes on my fiance for the first time. She is the epitome of beauty, both inside and outside, and I can't help but let my heart flutter when I see her in that dress. She wasn't lying when she said the dress was perfect, and as I take in the lace and the fabric that covers her curves amazingly, I can't help but give a goofy smile. As the two begin to walk down the aisle, Diana glances up and her eyes meet mine, and suddenly nothing else in the world matters.

Time seems to stand still as I watch her continue down the aisle. I never imagined getting married, I never imagined being this committed to someone, but with Diana, it was a welcomed change. I want to be better for her. I want to be everything for her. There are days when I still don't know what she sees in me, but I won't question my fortune.

Diana and Hippolyta make it to where we all stand. Her eyes are still locked on mine as Hippolyta places her daughter's hand in mine with a smile, before she steps back and takes a seat in her designated chair, pulling Antiope's hand in her own, lacing their fingers together.

Everyone sits and the music begins to fade out once more, and I take the time to whisper, "You look beautiful," to the woman in front of me.

Diana smiles and says, "You look handsome," before she turns and hands the bouquet in her hand to Donna.

Alfred clears his throat and everyone turns their attention to the Englishman. "Love is a beautiful thing," he begins. He closes the book in his hand, deciding to speak from the heart rather than read an unoriginal prompt. "I've known Master Bruce his whole life, as many of you have. He is an incredible young man, determined and intelligent, and so focused on not letting the tragedy of his parents define him in the way people expected. Likewise, I've known Ms. Diana a majority of her life, and she was a godsend to both Bruce and I during those dark days." He takes a breath, trying to compose himself, before he clears his throat once more. "Bruce and Diana have a love that is so pure, so precious, many of us spend our whole lifetimes trying to achieve it."

He hands me the piece of paper that my vows are written on and I quietly accept it with my right hand, refusing to let go of Diana's hand with my left. He quickly turns to Diana and hands her the piece of paper that her vows are on, before he says, "Diana and Bruce have decided to write their own vows. Diana, we'll start with you."

Diana nods and glances down at her paper, before she folds it and drops her hand, not needing to read the words off the page. "Bruce," she begins, squeezing my hand, "when we were kids, I knew you would be a big part of my life. When we were in high school I fell in love with you. You're my best friend, Bruce, my biggest supporter, and I promise to spend the rest of my life supporting you as you've supported me. I love you, more than anything, and I can't wait to start this journey with you."

Diana smiles and exchanges the paper with her vows for a handkerchief. "Bruce," Alfred says, prompting me to start my vows.

I nod, squeeze Diana's hand and caress her knuckles with my thumb, clearing my throat as I ball up my vows in my hand. "Diana," I begin, shoving the crumbled paper into my pocket, "who would have known the little girl who punched me on the playground would end up being my wife." Everyone begins to chuckle and I smirk at Diana, watching as she blushes and tries to shake her head at the memory. "Throughout my life, you've been the one constant, beside Alfred of course. You're my best friend. You've been there when I've been a stubborn, hard headed, mean, and downright terrible person. You helped me survive college, you helped me fight for my company, and you've been there every step of the way when I needed a kick in the rear."

"You've been the light at the end of the tunnel for so long, and now that we're here, out in the light together, I'll work my hardest trying to make you as happy as you've made me." I finish my vows and smile at the woman who will be my wife in a few short moments, lifting her hand to my lips, gently placing a kiss on the back of it, letting her know just how much I love and cherish her. She smiles back and my heart skips a beat. I don't know how after all these years that beautiful smile still manages to do that to me.

"Now," Alfred begins, turning to Clark, "may I have the rings." Clark nods and reaches into his tuxedo jacket, pulling a thin box from the pocket that lines the jacket. He hands the box over to Alfred. "Bruce, take this ring and place it on Diana's finger, and repeat after me," he says, as he opens the book in his hand once more. "Diana, take this ring as a symbol of my love."

He hands me the ring and I lift Diana's left hand, sliding the ring on her fourth finger as I repeat the words, "Diana, take this ring as a symbol of my love."

Alfred places the silver band that is to be placed on my finger in the middle of Diana's hand and nods, "Diana, repeat after me. Bruce, take this ring as a symbol of my love."

Diana repeats the words Alfred has given her and slides the ring on my finger, giving me a wink as she squeezes my hand gently. She mouths a quick 'I love you' before she turns back to face Alfred, a smug smile on my face because she knows exactly how my heart is starting to race with the thought that in a few seconds we will be married.

My hand still holds hers as I turn to Alfred, squeezing it in return as I flash her a smile, watching as Alfred glances down at the notes in his hand, taking a deep breath as he attempts to hide the happy tears that are threatening to fall from the corner of his eyes. "A marriage," he begins, taking another deep breath, "is a joining of two families. It is a celebration of two lives becoming one." He glances up at Hippolyta and flashes her a smile.

"It is my greatest pleasure to join these two as husband and wife." Alfred turns to me and his smile turns into a smirk. "Bruce, you may kiss your bride."

It is all the instruction I need. I sweep Diana in my arms and dip her, earning a gasp from her and the bridesmaids standing behind her, before she relaxes in my arms and lets out a chuckle. It is soon silenced when I press my lips to hers. She wraps her arms around my neck as the room begins to clap and cheer, but I am too focused on kissing my wife to pay any mind to everyone else. It isn't long before I pull away from Diana, flashing her a smirk, silently telling her there will be far more kissing later tonight.

She gently pats my cheek and offers me another smile as I pull her up to stand beside me. "It is my greatest pleasure to announce Mr. and Mrs. Bruce and Diana Wayne." Once again everyone claps and cheers, signaling our que to begin our exit.

Diana and I walk down the makeshift aisle, past our guests who continue to clap as we make our way out of the room. Our wedding party partners up and follows us out, but I don't bother to look at where they go, as I pull Diana away from everyone. "Bruce," she whispers as she turns her head to glance at the rest of the wedding party. "Where are we going?"

I don't answer her. I only pull her to the small hidden corner underneath the staircase and wrap my arms around her, letting my lips capture hers in a sweet kiss. "I just want a moment alone with my wife," I say, "before I have to share you for the next few hours."

Diana chuckles and kisses me once more. "Who would've thought," she begins, pulling a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Bruce Wayne is now a married man."

I nod and smile. "I can't believe you married me," I say. "I don't know what I did, but I love you more than you know." I kiss her once more and she lets out an appreciative moan, running her fingers through my hair.

"I know, Bruce," she says, "I know. And I love you too."

We continue to talk, stealing sweet kisses and tender caresses for the next twenty minutes, trying to stay hidden for as long as possible. I know it is our wedding, but I would love nothing more than to stay here all night with my wife. Unfortunately it isn't in the cards, as Alfred sneaks up to where we stand, startling the two of us.

"There you are," he says, forcing both Diana and I to freeze. "Mr. Queen is looking for you, Master Bruce," he says, raising an eyebrow and I chuckle.

"Of course he is," I whisper. "Tell him I will talk to him later, but he is welcome."

"Of course, Master Wayne," he says.

I can feel Diana staring at me. "Bruce," she says, "what did you do?"

I glance at my wife over my shoulder and shrug. "I may have called Dinah and invited her under the guise that Ollie wanted to rekindle their relationship."

"Bruce Wayne," Diana says in shock. "You did not-"

"He's in love with her Di," I explain. "And he's being an idiot and doesn't realize just how much she loves him. If someone were to have made me realize what an idiot I was being in college denying my feelings for you, we would never have missed out on all those years. I don't want that to happen to him."

Her face softens when she hears my explanation. She knows I would never purposefully meddle in my friend's business, but I can't let him make the same mistake I made all those years ago. And what a better place to realize you love someone than at a wedding.

"You cease to amaze me," she says with a wide smile, placing a kiss on the top of my jawline as she wraps her arms around me and places a head on my chest.

My arms wrap around her and I turn to Alfred, who is still watching us with a wide smile. "We'll be right out," I say, promising not to keep our guests waiting much longer.

Alfred nods and turns to walk to the ballroom, stopping only to say, "And the arrangements for tonight have been made." With that he walks away leaving me and my wife alone for a few more moments.

"What arrangements?" Diana asks once Alfred is gone. "We're not leaving for Switzerland until tomorrow," she reminds me.

I give her a small shrug, even though I know I'm seconds away from explaining-it's a habit "We're not staying here tonight," I say.

"And why is that?"

Once again I shrug my shoulders. "Do you really want to spend our wedding night in the room across the hall from your mother?"

She raises an eyebrow and shakes her head adamantly. "No, no," she says, "you're right, and smart." She gives me a sly smirk and kisses me softly. "But we do need to get back to our guests."

She pulls my hand and I let out a small groan, disappointed that my alone time with Diana has been cut short. "Okay, okay," I say, "but tonight you're all mine."

"Of course, Mr. Wayne," she responds. "Let's go."

"Yes, Mrs. Wayne," I say with a smirk, as I loop my arms in hers and walk toward the ballroom with my wife, unable to help the smile on my face when I realize I am one lucky man.

@fyeahwonderbat

Well I could end it here, or I could do one more chapter with "the morning after". Let me know :)

[bigskydreaming]

Do Boone and Dick ever like, fully settle together or are they both just constantly stuck in a limbo where they occasionally meet up but never actually solidify anything

The latter! Not really just because of the angst factor, lol, they’re just one of those ships for me. Similar to what I said about how I view a Dick/Tiger ship in a post I made about them….I tend to think Dick’s best shot at a longterm, healthy functional relationship is with a partner who’s more similar to him than not. Its a large part of why Dick/Kory is my preferred canon ship, as I think they have a ton in common and value the same traits in each other, and why Dick/Kyle is my go-to noncanon ship for a happy ending.

Like, I talk a lot about how imo Dick is a lot more morally flexible and willing to work and even be friends and allies with people he doesn’t agree with on even very important topics….but things are a little different when you throw intimacy and emotional commitment into the mix. Because one of the most important characteristics that make him who he is, to me, is how much he is a self-made man. As in, he is the man he is with INTENT. He believes and values everything he does for very specific reasons, and not because of Bruce’s influence or a lack of alternative viewpoints…..some of his most formative, definitive years were in his early career as Nightwing or leader of the Titans, when Bruce was barely a presence in his life, and far more people than just Bruce have tried to influence or shape Dick in some way or another.

But he’s fiercely independent and not just for the sake of being stubborn….or maybe yeah, for that reason….but its not about just being contrary, its about standing up to the sheer volume of people and forces who have tried to mold him in specific images. The way he was forcibly derailed from the path his life was on not even because of his parents’ death, but because everyone AFTER that point ensured that wasn’t even an option….the way Cobb and the Court of Owls had a master plan for him since before he was even born, that he apparently doesn’t even get a say on….the way Deathstroke and multiple others have tried to make him their apprentice or turn him to their side or school of thinking….the many times he’s been brainwashed and made into a literal pawn like by the Church of Blood or had his agency violated physically and sexually…his core premise, to me, is that of a man trying to be himself, with intent, be the master of his own destiny and the one who chooses his own path in a world that repeatedly insists on trying to choose for him.

To me, the times he’s tried to get out from other Bruce’s shadow and build his own reputation and not be defined as just Bruce’s son or Batman’s sidekick, like….these are just one small aspect of what IMO is the greater issue for him and what truly motivates him at these times, why this is so important to him.

My point being….everything Dick is and that he holds dear to him is the result of deliberate, conscious choices made on his part….he is who he is and fights for the things he fights for BECAUSE he’s had options and been presented with alternatives and ultimately he’s decided that no, this is what he believes, this is who HE wants to be.

And because of that, as much as I fully believe he’s capable of empathizing with even extremely opposite viewpoints and understanding where other people come from, as much as he’s willing and able to get along with them and work with them and respect them in a variety of ways…..there’s only so far that could ever go, romantically speaking.

So for me, all my headcanons and views of Boone and his history with Dick, even expanded upon beyond what we saw in canon…I think Dick could easily be written as viewing the two of them having a fundamental connection that he doesn’t have with others, and understanding and relating to him in ways he doesn’t even with his canon romantic partners. He GETS where Boone comes from, he gets why he made the choices he did….and he does so BECAUSE he was literally there too. 

He literally held a gun on Two-Face before he was even a teenager, with Boone being the one standing RIGHT THERE AT HIS SIDE, urging him to give into darkest impulses and by extension validating them, promising not to judge him for them or ever leave him because of them even at a time when Dick felt Bruce had already abandoned him or cast him out BECAUSE of Dick’s inability to make the right choices and live up to what Bruce wanted him to be. In a lot of ways, pulling that trigger that night would have been the EASY choice for Dick, and by extension, choosing Boone and the choices Boone makes and wanted Dick to make too….would be the EASIER choice for Dick, a whole lot easier than constantly trying to live up to (and feeling like he’s failed to live up to) the expectations so many other people in his life heap on him.

I think no matter how much they clash in any given scenario, Dick will always understand and relate to Boone and all the choices he’s ever made, because he could see himself having made the same choices. Because at many times, I actually think, he’s wanted to make the same choices.

But ultimately, each and every one of those times, Dick has chosen not to. And that doesn’t just happen, it happens with intent. Deliberately.

And thus, no matter how much Dick relates to people with extremely opposite stances in a lot of ways and even could have a deep and emotional connection with someone like that…..I don’t think he could ever commit longterm to an intimate relationship with one of them, like Boone….because doing so ultimately is a tacit acceptance of every one of their choices, every time they also quite deliberately and with intent chose the opposite of Dick. And thus, by extension…..acceptance and condoning of these various choices in order to accept THEM as an equal romantic partner….is in a way, a kind of implicit rejection of Dick’s own choices in similar times and circumstances. It would kind of be like….Dick taking back the times he’s consciously made the opposite choice, and thus suggesting maybe he’s not actually okay with the choices he actually made at those times. 

Or at least, I feel like that’s how Dick would see it, at the end of the day, given how much he values and prioritizes his own decision-making and his freedom to make his own decisions at all AND have those decisions respected and valued.

So dramatic as it may sound, lol, in the end I think despite or even because of how much he may be drawn to a mirror image of himself like Boone, the person he could have ended up being or be very similar to if he’d chosen the path they chose back when their paths ultimately diverged…Dick would always view settling down with one of these particular potential partners as kind of settling for being less or even just other than the man he’s sculpted himself to be, by his own choices.

And I don’t think he can or is willing to do that. In fact, I think its completely anathema to everything that makes him so fundamentally Dick Grayson….moreso than even just killing someone would ever be. Because ultimately I think Dick’s views on killing and general resistance to it is just ONE aspect of his overall character, whereas his insistence on his own personal agency and choices is at the core of EVERY aspect of his character.

Related to all of the above, but something of a separate matter….I think in his heart of hearts, Dick’s dream is to someday have children of his own, whether biological or adopted, and to build a family that’s fully of his own choice, with intent. I think he accepts his second family for who and what they are, but who and what they are will never be all that similar to his first family and the dynamics he shared with them….and I do think he misses those specific dynamics and craves having new versions of them in his life. And that he likely figures the only way that will ever happen is with a family he’s the patriarch of himself, and in the position of laying the foundational dynamics for.

And given that, for as much as I think Dick’s able to work with and even respect and appreciate people with extremely different ideologies and values….I can’t imagine him ever being willing to start a family with someone who ultimately doesn’t value the things Dick’s chosen to uphold as most important to him. Because which set of values do they pass down to their children then? We’re talking about fundamentally divergent views of right and wrong. The kind of things that Dick might be willing at times to compromise himself or his own values for in specific contexts, or for some bigger picture….but to compromise his own views in terms of supporting a partner passing down completely opposite views on right and wrong to his own children? That, I can’t see Dick ever being alright with, and so much like being with someone like Boone longterm would require him settling in other respects, I think it would also cost Dick the chance to ever build his own family, as I don’t think he’d ever fully be comfortable doing that with someone who wasn’t willing to settle or give up their own values to uphold Dick’s.

And for the very same reason Dick feels so strongly about making his own choices and being the man that results from them, I don’t think its in character for him to ever ask someone to abandon or betray their own choices or ideologies specifically to be with him. If they did that of their own volition, without his prompting or him making some sort of an ultimatum, sure. Its not like he doesn’t have a hugely influential presence himself, and there’s no reason someone like Boone couldn’t be written having their own doubts about their own choices and be predisposed or just willing to be ‘brought over to the good side’ or whatever. But I can’t imagine Dick ever ASKING that of them, any more than he’d be willing to do that himself if they ever asked it of him in order to be with them.

Thus, more often than not, I think a Dick/Boone relationship is one of those that will always be ships crossing in the night, unrequited or bittersweet…..two people who understand and relate to each other, respect and get each other….but are too fundamentally opposed to make the choices they’d need to be willing to make, in order to choose each other in the long run.

[redrobin-detective]

Obviously there's a scene in your dad hood AU where Jason is pacing around Bruce's study, ranting about how every time he tells Sammy to let something go, to pick her battles, she just glares at him and keeps going twice as hard, and Jason's ranting about how annoying and wilful she is, and Bruce is just sipping tea like, "Gosh. That must be so difficult Jason. I can't imagine what you're going through Jason. However would someone cope with their child acting like that Jason."

“She doesn’t listen to anything I say, I might as well be talking in Chinese!” Jason shouted amid his pacing, arms folded into an angry knot behind his back.

“Must be rough, son” Bruce said with the barest hint of a smile hidden behind his teacup. He’d been waiting for this for years and the rewards were as sweet as he’d imagined.

“She’s reckless and she clearly has no idea what’s she’s doing!” Jason continued to huff, stewing over his ward’s stubborn, adorable face as he patched her from another night of illicit crime fighting. All she had was a ratty sweatshirt and a stolen Robin mask. Who did she think she was?

“Like Tim says, can’t relate.” Bruce answered, now not even bothering to cover up the curve of his lips from his middle son. He could’ve told Jason that parenting wasn’t easy but the boy was used to being on the other side of the relationship. The young man turned to glare at his guardian.

“This is isn’t funny Bruce,” Jason hissed stalking forward and slamming his fists on the mahogany desk as he hovered threateningly over his impassive father figure.

“Of course not Jason; a willful child who won’t listen to you isn’t funny at all.” Bruce continued to not-smile.

“Goddammit B she’s going to get herself killed out there and there’s nothing I can do about it!” Now that did manage to wipe the smug expression off Bruce’s face as he looked into the angry face of his boy. But beneath that anger was a terribly familiar expression, one he saw most days in the mirror. It was terror, a bone deep fear that the ones you loved were drifting away from you and no matter what you did, they’d soon get too far and then disappear entirely and leave only emptiness in their wake. Samantha hasn’t been under Jason’s roof for long but then again, Bruce didn’t have Jason long before he too was lost.

“No she won’t,” Bruce said quietly, resolutely. “And do you know why?” He added on before Jason to open his mouth to reply. “Because you are better than me Jason. You see the problem, you see her for what and who she is, you understand what she needs and what she needs is you.” Taking a chance, Bruce leaned forward and placed one hand atop Jason’s own.

“You’re going to guide her, get her the help she needs, ask for help from us when you need it because you know what’s like to lose and to be lost.” Jason still hasn’t pulled his hand away so Bruce squeezes it lightly. “No one said being a father was easy Jason, but I can tell you it’s absolutely worth it. Be better than I was, be better for her.”

Jason face, normally a canvas of contradictory emotion, was slack except for his eyes which stared intently into his own. At that moment, Bruce would have traded every dollar he had for a glimpse into what the other man was thinking. After a moment, Jay stood up straight and removed his hands from the desk.

“You’re right, I am better than you.” Jason said sternly, “I won't make your mistakes old man and you better not make them either. My kids deserve better than a bitter, broken Batman for a grandpa so you better sharpen your act for their sake or I’ll make your head roll.” Bruce is unable to stop himself reacting with surprise at Jason’s words that causes the younger man to gift him with a rakish grin, so reminiscent of younger, better days.

“Tell Great Grandpa Alfie the whole family will be coming for dinner on Sunday for a big get together. He’ll enjoy the opportunity to put some meat on their bones, not mention embarrass the hell out of me.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked towards the door. “Invite Doc Thompkins too, maybe see if we can open Sam up to the idea of talking to her. I don’t know if she’ll take to it but if that doesn’t work I’ll try something else. Anything and everything if I have to.”

“Of course, nothing less for your children.” Bruce says, his voice thick with the emotions he always tries to bury. Emotions made up of trusting smiles and a cold, dead weight in his arms. But Jason was here now, tall, proud and with 3 wonderful children at home. He couldn’t be more proud if he tried. “Keep reaching for her Jay, don’t let her drift away.”

“Not a chance in hell.” Jason nudged open the door and was gone, “see ya Sunday Gramps.” Bruce composed himself and leaned back in his chair bringing his fingertips together at his lips. He’s been called many things in his life but he thinks Grandpa might be his favorite.

[quotespicture]

https://quoteswithpicture.com/best-quotes-from-the-dark-knight-trilogy-why-so-serious/

Best Quotes from The Dark Knight Trilogy – ‘Why so serious?’

  Here is our list of the best quotes from Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight Trilogy, which are ranked as some of the greatest superhero movies made.

  1. Batman Begins (2005)

Nolan’s birth of Batman, in an origin story where we follow Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) traveling to the Far East, to train in the martial arts by Ra’s al Ghul (Liam Neeson), a member of the mysterious League of Shadows. When Ghul reveals the League’s true purpose, the complete destruction of Gotham City, Wayne returns to Gotham intent on cleaning up the city without resorting to murder. With the help of his loyal butler, Alfred (Michael Caine), and Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman), a tech expert at Wayne Enterprises, Batman is born.

‘Your anger gives you great power. But if you let it, it will destroy you.’ – Ra’s al Ghul (Batman Begins) Click To Tweet

  [Bruce looks defeated as Wayne Manor is burning down] Bruce Wayne: I wanted to save Gotham. I failed. Alfred Pennyworth: Why do we fall sir? So that we can learn to pick ourselves up. Bruce Wayne: You still haven’t given up on me? Alfred Pennyworth: Never.

  Bruce Wayne: People need dramatic examples to shake them out of apathy and I can’t do that as Bruce Wayne. As a man, I’m flesh and blood, I can be ignored, I can be destroyed; but as a symbol, as a symbol I can be incorruptible, I can be everlasting.

  Rachel Dawes: Wait! You could die. At least tell me your name. [Bruce pauses for a moment] Bruce Wayne: It’s not who I am underneath but what I do that defines me. Rachel Dawes: Bruce?

  Rachel Dawes: [to Bruce] Deep down you may still be that same great kid you used to be. But it’s not who you are underneath, it’s what you do that defines you.

  Rachel Dawes: You’re not talking about justice. You’re talking about revenge. Bruce Wayne: Sometimes they’re the same. Rachel Dawes: No, they’re never the same, Bruce. Justice is about harmony. Revenge is about you making yourself feel better. It’s why we have an impartial system.

  Carmine Falcone: [to Bruce] This is a world you’ll never understand. And you always fear what you don’t understand.

  Ra’s al Ghul: What are you seeking? Bruce Wayne: I seek the means to fight injustice. To turn fear against those who prey on the fearful. Ra’s al Ghul: To manipulate the fears in others you must first master your own. Are you ready to begin? Bruce Wayne: I can barely stand. Ra’s al Ghul: Death does not wait for you to be ready! Death is not considerate or fair! And make no mistake, here you face death.

  Alfred Pennyworth: Strange injuries a non-existent social life, these things beg the question as to what exactly does Bruce Wayne do with his time and his money. Bruce Wayne: And what does someone like me do? Alfred Pennyworth: Drive sports cars, date movie stars, buy things that are not for sale, who knows, Master Wayne, you start pretending to have fun, you might even have a little by accident.

  [trying to lift a burning roof beam off of Bruce] Alfred Pennyworth: What is the point of all those push-ups if you can’t even lift a bloody log!

  Earle: Bruce? You’re supposed to be dead. Bruce Wayne: Sorry to disappoint.

  [as Batman is about leave] Jim Gordon: I never said thank you. Batman: And you’ll never have to.

  1. The Dark Knight (2008)

Nolan’s sequel, which is now widely considered to be one of the best sequels ever made. The story follows Batman/Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) in his continuing war on crime. With the help of allies Lt. Jim Gordon (Gary Oldman) and DA Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart), Batman has been able to keep a tight lid on crime in Gotham City. But when a menace knows as the Joker (Heath Ledger) emerges, he starts to wreak havoc and chaos on the people of Gotham. Batman must accept one of the greatest psychological and physical tests of his ability to fight injustice and begins to tread a fine line between heroism and vigilantism.

‘If you’re good at something, never do it for free.’ – The Joker (The Dark Knight) Click To Tweet

  The Joker: I believe whatever doesn’t kill you, simply makes you stranger.

  Alfred Pennyworth: A long time ago, I was in Burma, my friends and I were working for the local government. They were trying to buy the loyalty of the tribal leaders by bribing them with precious stones. But their caravans were being raided in a forest north of Rangoon by a bandit. So we went looking for the stones. But in six months, we never met anyone who traded with him. One day I saw a child playing with a ruby the size of a tangerine. The bandit had been throwing them away. Bruce Wayne: So why steal them? Alfred Pennyworth: Because he thought it was good sport. Because some men aren’t looking for anything logical, like money. They can’t be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men just want to watch the world burn.

  The Joker: want to know how I got these scars? My father was a drinker. And a fiend. And one night he goes off crazier than usual. Mommy gets the kitchen knife to defend herself. He doesn’t like that. Not one bit. So, me watching, he takes the knife to her, laughing while he does it! He turns to me, and he says, “Why so serious, son?” Comes at me with the knife, “Why so serious?” He sticks the blade in my mouth, “Let’s put a smile on that face!” And, why so serious?

  Bruce Wayne: Let her go! [Joker dangles Rachel out of a window] The Joker: Very poor choice of words… [then let’s Rachel drop]

  Bruce Wayne: Then why do you want to kill me? The Joker: [laughs] I don’t, I don’t want to kill you! What would I do without you? Go back to ripping off mob dealers? No, no, no! No. You, you complete me.

  Bruce Wayne: You’re garbage who kills for money. The Joker: Don’t talk like one of them. You’re not! Even if you’d like to be. To them, you’re just a freak, like me! They need you right now, but when they don’t, they’ll cast you out, like a leper! You see, their morals, their code, it’s a bad joke. Dropped at the first sign of trouble. They’re only as good as the world allows them to be. I’ll show you. When the chips are down, these, uh, these civilized people, they’ll eat each other. See, I’m not a monster. I’m just ahead of the curve.

  The Joker: [to Det. Stephens] Do you want to know why I use a knife? Guns are too quick. You can’t savor all the little emotions. In, you see, in their last moments, people show you who they really are.

  The Joker: [to Harvey Dent] You know, you know what I’ve noticed? Nobody panics when things go “according to plan”. Even if the plan is horrifying! If, tomorrow, I tell the press that, like, a gang banger will get shot, or a truckload of soldiers will be blown up, nobody panics, because it’s all “part of the plan.” But when I say that one little old mayor will die, well then everyone loses their minds!

  [Joker hands Dent a gun and points it at himself] The Joker: Introduce a little anarchy. Upset the established order, and everything becomes chaos. I’m an agent of chaos. Oh, and you know the thing about chaos? It’s fair!

  Bruce Wayne: What were you hoping to prove? That, deep down, everyone’s as ugly as you? You’re alone! The Joker: Can’t rely on anyone these days, you got to do to everything yourself. Don’t we!

  The Joker: [to Bruce] I took Gotham’s white knight and I brought him down to our level. It wasn’t hard. You see, madness, as you know, is like gravity. All it takes is a little push.

  Bruce Wayne: [voice over] Sometimes the truth isn’t good enough. Sometimes, people deserve more. Sometimes people deserve to have their faith rewarded.

  [referring to Batman] James Gordon Jr.: He didn’t do anything wrong. Lt. James Gordon: Because he’s the hero Gotham deserves, but not the one it needs right now. So we’ll hunt him because he can take it. Because he’s not our hero. He’s a silent guardian, a watchful protector, a dark knight.

  3. The Dark Knight Rises (2012)

Final installment in Nolan’s trilogy, where we see Bruce Wayne living as a recluse in Wayne Manor, seen only by the trusted Alfred. Gotham appears at peace, with organized crime dropping, however, the arrival of a cunning cat burglar, Selina (Anne Hathaway), and a merciless terrorist named Bane (Tom Hardy), forces Batman out of exile and into a battle he may not be able to win.

‘There are always people you care about. You just don’t realize how much until they’re gone.’ – Bruce Wayne (The Dark Knight Rises) Click To Tweet

  Blake: [to Bruce] To be angry. In your bones. I mean, they understand. Foster parents, everybody, understands, for a while. But then they want the angry little kid to do something he knows he can’t do. To move on. So after a while they stop understanding and they send the angry kid to a boys home. I figured it out too late. You got to learn to hide the anger, and practice smiling in the mirror. It’s like putting on a mask. So you showed up this one day in a cool car, pretty girl on your arm. We were so excited. Bruce Wayne, billionaire orphan! We used to make up stories about you, man. Legends. And you know, to the other kids that’s all it was, just stories. But, right when I saw you I knew who you really were.

  Bruce Wayne: You’re afraid that if I go back out there, I’ll fail. Alfred: No. I’m afraid that you want to.

  Alfred: [to Bruce] I am using the truth, Master Wayne. Maybe it’s time we all stopped trying to outsmart the truth and just let it have its day. I’m sorry!

  Bane: Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

  Bruce Wayne: Hope you didn’t like me for my money. Miranda: Suffering builds character.

  Bruce Wayne: Why didn’t you just kill me? Bane: You don’t fear death, you welcome it. Your punishment must be more severe. Bruce Wayne: You’re a torturer. Bane: Yes. But not of your body. Of your soul.

  Blind Prisoner: Fear is why you fail. Bruce Wayne: No, I’m not afraid. I’m angry.

  Bruce Wayne: If you’re working alone, wear a mask. Blake: I’m not afraid to be seen standing up to these guys. Bruce Wayne: The mask is not for you. It’s to protect the people you care about.

  Bruce Wayne: A hero can be anyone. Even a man doing something as simple and reassuring as putting a coat around a young boy’s shoulders, to let him know the world hadn’t ended.

[audreycritter]

Sleepwalker

Rating: T Gen Characters: Tim Drake Angst

AO3 Link

Sleepwalker

There is cold, wet gravel under Tim Drake’s cheek when he hits the ground and the armor that protects his ribs from the blow reminds him that he is not Tim Drake with a broken gas mask, he is Red Robin.

But the mask is broken and the tendrils of fear toxin curling around his face remind of a time when he was Robin. A time when Scarecrow wasn't climbing inside his brain, but when he donned a mask and saved the Bat from a similar fate.

That was when he stopped being just Tim Drake.

But he's not Robin now either.

And Red Robin is about fifteen seconds away from being nothing more than a shrieking sack of bones and guts, based on the level of toxicity he'd measured before his gas mask broke.

So really?

He doesn't know who the hell he is.

He's not sure it even matters.

I am a ghost.

That is what I tell myself.

I used to be a boy but now I am a ghost and I walk the tombstones of a field of graves. They all have names and they are not my name but they are names that are part of me.

I am a son, a brother, a friend.

I was, before I was a ghost.

I trail my fingers along the granite and along the engraved letters so sharp they cut my fingers, that would bleed if they could, but they don't.

Jason Todd, Janet Drake, Jack Drake, Stephanie Brown, Conner Kent, Bruce Wayne, Damian Wayne, Richard Grayson.

And more beyond them.

The grass, chilled and dry, rustles in the bitter wind that blows across the field. The field goes on forever in every direction, and maybe somewhere out there beyond the horizon there are blue skies and green prairies, but here it is clouded and pale.

Here, it is death.

I find him at the end of the row of tombs, perched on a grave with my own name on it.

I didn't even know I was wearing a wool peacoat until I shove my hands in my pockets while facing him.

“Mors vincit omnia,” I say to him.

Death looks a lot like me, actually, or whoever I used to be. His hair is longer, his skin ashen, his own coat wrapped tightly around thin shoulders.

Or maybe he looks exactly like me and I don't even know how bad I look half the time.

Looked.

“Oh, I’m not Death,” he says, hopping down and mirroring my pose. “Death is real.”

There's a taste of sage on my tongue.

“Are you not real?” I ask, because this whole place feels like an in-between sort of place, a fiction compared to the things I know and remember.

“We aren't real,” he corrects, flicking my forehead.

And though it is ridiculous, my heart-- the heart that is the heart of a ghost-- skips a beat.

“What,” I say. It is not a question because I am not certain I want to ask and hear an answer.

“We’re a dream,” he says. “And this is where dreams come to die.”

“No,” I say firmly, because I have lived too much and felt pain too deeply for it to have been a dream. I have done too many things, can recall a thousand vivid details, to have dreamed it all.

The taste of sage grows stronger.

“No?” he echoes. “This isn't something you can argue. It's a fact.”

“We’re talking about my life!” I say irritably, my voice raising. I gesture to the line of tombstones behind me. “I didn't dream all this!”

“Oh,” he says, giving me a pitying look. And then his face twists into something cruel, a malicious press of his lips into a thin line.

“What?” I demand, asking now.

“Tim. Timmy. Timbo,” he says. “I didn’t say you were dreaming. I said you were a dream.”

“That’s insane,” I snap, but inside the sick lurch of realization plants doubt.

“Look,” he says, pointing.

I turn and the sage is so strong in my mouth that it burns my gums.

The tombstones are gone and there is a flat cement patio, a small white table, two painted iron chairs and a flowering plant surrounded by butterflies. In the distance there is an old building and I recognize it; it is Arkham. It is Arkham Asylum on an impossibly sunny day. I even know the plot with the cement and the flowers, except I remember it as overgrown and broken.

Here, it is not broken.

Here, there is a man with close shorn hair sitting in one of the chairs and holding a mug of tea. He is sitting complacent and docile, his eyes a blank and unfocused gaze.

It is Bruce, but Bruce in a way I have never seen him.

“That’s the real him,” the boy who is me but also not me says, nodding. If the empty Bruce hears him, he gives no indication. “He’s been that way for a long time.”

“What do you--”

“He dreams you. And the others. Not all of them, of course, there’s almost always a bit of truth in dreams. Think about it for a minute. You’re smart. Doesn’t it all seem, well, too convenient?”

I spit to clear the sage from my mouth.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

I don’t know who I am. Am I a ghost? Is this boy who looks like me a ghost?

“Dick was real, of course. Is, sorry. So was Jason. Was, that one stays. But Tim, that man broke the year that Jason died. Alfred Pennyworth had him admitted for his own protection. They hid Batman-- it was hard at first, but the more Bruce slipped the easier it was to just chalk it up to his own paranoia and unhinged stories. And he couldn’t cope with a world where he was responsible for Jason, so in his head, he fixed it. He started with you-- you should be flattered. You were the first distraction: you acknowledging his pain at losing Jason, your parents alive but absent so he could parent you without a legal obligation; the starting point for the others.

“You’ve really never wondered, before?” he asks. “At how neatly it fit together? That you were at the circus the same night, fascinated by both Batman and Dick Grayson before you made the connection? That you, a child, made the connection at all when intelligent adults around you couldn’t?”

“Men see what they want to see,” I say to him coldly, determined that whatever mindgame he is playing won't frighten me.

He laughs, a sharp and brittle sound.

“C’mon, Tim. You aren't stupid. Occam’s Razor. What makes more sense? That all of it really happened or that somebody made it up? Four dead Robins and none of them still dead? No. No, you were the first of a long line of trying to atone for Jason in his broken little brain.”

I scowl at the dying grass under my polished loafers and then look up across the field to the Arkham garden scene. In all the time we’ve been standing here, he hasn’t raised the mug to drink the contents, even once. A butterfly alights on the table and he doesn’t react to it. I am thinking of the time we spent training, when everything was something to notice. There were entire sessions just pushing me to make sure I didn’t miss details in my surroundings.

With a hunch of my own shoulders, I swallow to try to rid my throat of sage.

“Why?” I ask, considering. There’s no point in ruling out possibilities without honestly considering them, combing each option over for details. And now I want to know, if it’s all fiction, why so many graves? This seems to be the strongest argument against a dreamscape.

“Because he doesn’t think he has anyone. And we’re safer, easier to control and manipulate,” the ghost of me says.

“But why kill them all?” I persist, frowning at where the row of tombstones stood before vanishing.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “You’ve been in his head all this time. Why don’t you tell me? I think it’s because he doesn’t know how to sustain happiness. The only kinds of dreams he can keep up with are the ones that are nightmares. He’s put a little of himself in each of you, surrounded himself with a grand fantasy where none of you stay dead, except the ones that pull you away from his orbit-- your father, your friend. Those relationships are messy and take too much effort to keep track of, but he feeds on the drama within his own circle. And if he could let it go, they’d probably release him.”

My heart that is too hollow, too light, stills within me. I feel the absence of its beating but it doesn’t seem to have any other effect.

“What…” I study Bruce in the chair. He finally sips the tea and it occurs to me that I am certain it is tea and I had no way of knowing this. I clear my throat. “Is he alone? Really?”

“Alfred visits daily. Clark comes once a week. Dick and Barbara are married and stop by when they can. I think he’s noticed, finally. He’s making an effort. That’s why you’re here.”

“What am I supposed to do?” I ask, dread settling over me like lake water, dense and frigid and airless. It wasn't true, it couldn't be true, but it sort of made sense.

“Do?” he laughed again, that sardonic icy bark of a laugh. “Nothing. His therapist told suggested trying to kill you all off, and well, you were...the first. The first fiction. You're here to be retired. But it's sort of a process, for old dreams. You have to be let go. And he's not sure he wants to, yet.”

“What will happen if he does?”

The sage was now in my mouth, my throat, my nostrils, making my eyes water. My palms were slick, I was sweating all over. I coughed.

With every second that passed, I was becoming more certain he spoke the truth. My grip on anything that could contradict him felt tenuous and desperate, a panicked internal railing against the surety of where I stood.

“You end,” he says simply, the bitter mirth gone. “Dreams are just dreams, Tim. They don't have an afterlife.”

“And if he doesn't?” I ask, clenching my teeth after to keep them from chattering.

“Business as usual,” he shrugs. “You go back. You might remember, you might not. I don't know because he's never gotten you this far before. It’ll probably be big; whenever he tries and fails to stop living in his head, the regression is always dramatic for all of you. Near death, severe injury, something of the sort. Do the others remember?”

“Who?” I ask, frowning. “What do you--”

“Well, he's never killed you off before. But the others, the ones he brought back. They've each been here, but I think that was intentional, you know. It wasn't therapy it was just plot.”

“They've never said anything,” I say faintly, my head reeling: Jason, Stephanie, Damian. They would have all…

“Then you probably won't remember either,” he says cheerfully, clapping my shoulder. “That's a bit of good news, anyway. Don't you think knowing would really mess you up?”

Across the field, there is the sharp, glittering sound of porcelain splintering into a thousand pieces. We both jerk our heads up in unison to look-- the shell of Bruce Wayne has thrown the tea mug onto the concrete and he is rocking back and forth, muttering and whimpering.

I look at the ghost of me, the ghost who isn't a ghost. He's fading and so is the landscape around us.

“Oh, I think he's changed his mind, again,” the other me says. He smiles one more time, and it is cheshire in its lingering white malice.

“Sweet dreams!” he calls, the words far away and echoing across the darkness engulfing me.

My throat is full of sage and it is swollen, stinging.

I wake in the Batcave with bruises on my arms from being restrained, while Bruce stands nearby, in the suit with his cowl pushed off his face. He notices I am awake and he looks relieved and exhausted.

“Hey, Tim,” he says wearily, “you had us worried there for a bit. We haven't had anyone react that way to fear toxin before. I'll get Alfred.”

“Bruce,” I say, wanting to ask. I want reassurance. I want someone to tell me that it's ridiculous, but it turns out it is too ridiculous even to ask, to voice, and my questions die on my tongue with the taste of sage.

“Hm?” he says, absently patting my shoulder as he pushes the intercom that is link to the manor. “Alfred, Tim’s awake.”

“I will be right down, sir,” comes the prompt reply.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asks, sitting in a chair next to the bed.

I swallow.

“Okay,” I lie.

I'm crazy. It was just fear toxin. I know this.

But it's so dramatic, it's so neatly arranged, it's so formulaic. Alfred will come downstairs, he will offer tea and chicken soup. Dick will call. I will sit up and some people I love will stay dead and others I love will never die.

“Tea and soup, Master Timothy,” Alfred says, stepping off the elevator with a silver tray.

And though the fear toxin is, or should be, out of my system, my heart begins to pound and I am drenched in sweat in an instant and the edges of my vision darken.

“Tim?” I hear Bruce say, slightly alarmed.

I begin to cry and I don't care.

I am not a ghost.

I am a dream.

[mayacatmaster]

“Student”(solar): “My Master, why we need ‘Unfuckwithable’ and  what ‘The Most Simple Formula For Living’ is?”; *** *** *** "Master"（Mr. Bean）:” Well…:

【The Most Simple Formula For Living】is…:

Just don’t kiss any kind of dark-tyrant-ruler’s-ass by blind-obey. *** *** *** No matter of it’s on religion, morality-belief-system, political, education, social-family-belief-system, personal-belief-system or in country, in home, in one’s body-mind-heart-belief-system. *** *** *** Just don’t kiss any kind of dark-tyrant-ruler’s-ass by blind-obey. *** *** *** Because…: The spirit of the individual is determined by his domination thought habits. ~Bruce Lee Kushandwizoom  *** *** *** No matter it’s in a world, a country, a home, a mind-body. *** *** ***

Why we need ‘Unfuckwithable’ ? My dear solar…:

"Remember when we were kids and wanted to grow up what were we thinking…!" "Solar, ...Your happiness cannot be dependent upon any other, it has to be self-discovered, it has to be self-assigned. You were born happy; you were born as extensions of Source Energy, you were born knowing your worthiness, you were born knowing your value, you were born feeling that connection. ...But unfortunately, little by little, you let it erode as people around you said, “Look at me and please me.” Your parents say it, your teachers say it, your lovers say it."  *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** Via and Thanks for “Abraham” *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

So…:

No matter how many people may lose faith in you, think you're not good enough or don't believe in you, never stop believing in yourself.

No one else can live your life, make your decisions or go after your goals, only you can!

Train your mind to let that negativity better you, but never break you.

The moment you take control of your life, nothing can stop you! ~ Vivek Mehra

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Via and thanks “Spiritual Awakenings ”:

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

My dear solar, in this world…:

The greatest teacher will send you back to yourself. The greatest teacher always send you back to yourself. Let your Life itself can Source-like function, working in every area, in every topic, in every leverage, in outer world, in inner world. Let your Life itself can Source-like Mirror the most simplest “Cosmic Principle”(Tao; Source; Ma at; Brahma) in every area…: And as alignment-deliberate-creator. *** *** ***  If you can not find one, be one for yourself, for your life itself…. By follow your “Inner-Ultimate-Guru”(Source; Tao; True Self; Brahma). *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** Via and thanks “The Wobble Free Zone”:

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** Now, sometimes you all have the good fortune of meeting someone else who is a “steady one”(who can as an alignment-deliberate-creator, let their life can Source-like Mirror the most simplest “Cosmic Principle”(Tao; Source; Ma at; Brahma) in every area…: ). And when you meet someone who is a steady one - who, no matter what you do, they remain steady - you're really attracted to that, because your dominant desire is to be tuned-in, tapped-in, turned-on, and when they stay that way, it's easier for you to stay that way. But don't assign that responsibility to anybody else - you be that one, which means you're going to have a good time no matter what they're doing. You're going to feel good because you're going to have clarity, and don't you want clarity? When you are in a state of clarity, you can see down the road, you can feel how much of this relationship as it is in the state of becoming is satisfying the majority of intentions that are in your Vibrational Reality. It's really a delicious thing to be all tuned-in, tapped-in, turned-on, and to have such clarity that you can feel, almost from the beginning of an encounter with anyone, whether it fits or whether it doesn't. And if it doesn't, then don't pursue it - there's no point in trying to teach someone how to get into alignment who has been practicing not being in alignment. And of course, as uplifters you want to influence as many as you can into alignment, but just don't let it be everybody that you date (Fun) - it's so tiring. You can be under the influence of loneliness and have the impulse to go find a partner, but that's not a good idea. Or you can be under the influence of alignment and have an impulse to find a partner, and that's a much better place to be coming from, yes? Q: I felt that way - I felt like I was doing pretty good on my own and I wasn't feeling that... A: Alright now, is this story going to put you under this influence or this influence? Yeah, you probably don't want to tell that story. (Fun) Right? There's this wanting to explain where you are that holds you right there. "I'd like to explain to everyone how I've been doing and where I am." And we say then get used to where you are because that's where you're staying - if that's what's coming out of your mouth all the time, then nothing else can change. Q: So leave when it's not fun anymore. A: Yeah, at the very beginning of it not being fun. But do you know where that beginning is? Before you even meet the person. That's what we just encouraged you to do, leave that story before it isn't fun, leave that conversation before it isn't fun, leave the retelling of this story and the recounting of this relationship - leave it all - because when you tune in to who you really are, you change the past. And this is because when you see through the eyes of Source, you see every bit of that past as your advantage because it was growing your Vortex, so you don't feel bad about any of those fractured relationships or relationships that blew up because you know that every one of them helped you to realize who you are and what you want, and you're appreciative of every one of those. ~Abraham speaking on the Caribbean Cruise in March 2018

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

My dear solar, if you realized need others approval is Al Qaeda for your alignment...so you need became unfuckwithable, never consider your alignment with your “Source”(True Self; Tao; Brahma) product or don’t product from another, you need do it by yourself, no more need others approval.

*** *** ***

So...You need do it for yourself, became unfuckwithable, became one who can as an alignment-deliberate-creator, let you life can Source-like Mirror the most simplest “Cosmic Principle”(Tao; Source; Ma at; Brahma) in every area…:. *** *** *** 【Unfuckwithable】: ***  [adj.]  When you're truly at peace and in touch with yourself,  When you're truly alignment with your "True Self"(Source; Tao; Brahman),  When you're truly love and alignment with your “Source”(True Self; Tao; Brahma),  And as a deliberate-alignment-creator  To help yourself get rid of painful & misery-vicious circle-life fruits,  To help yourself beautiful-dream-come true, to help yourself to get Sweet-fruits of life.…! *** *** *** No long as or became a brainwash sheep, no long let your mind been “indoctrinate”(brainwash) into, believe in…: Obey and you can't question it, self-inquiry it,...no matter what, just Kiss-any kind of Dark Tyranny Ruler’s-Ass. *** *** *** 【Unfuckwithable】: ***  [adj.]  No matter it’s in a world, a country, a home, a mind-body….: Nothing anyone says or does bothers you, no negativity of drama can touch you. Never have to follow anyone’s rules. No expectations of who you should become. No rules to abide by.  *** *** *** And you just know this, realized this…: ***  Follow the force that is guiding the whole universe is in you.  Pledge allegiance to your "Source"(God; True Self; Tao; Logos),  everything is done! ~Huangdi Yinfujing 「觀天之道，執天之行，盡矣！」: 黃帝陰符經； *** *** ***

Because…: You are never along or helpless.  The force that is guiding the whole universe is in you too! *** *** ***

Because…:

No matter how many people may lose faith in you,…:

***

The depth in someone's eyes reflects how long and how far their soul, their heart has traveled. *** *** ***

Because…:

No matter how many people may think you're not good enough or don't believe in you,…:

*** People can only meet you as deeply as they have met themselves. *** *** *** If they don’t understand who or what-really-they-are, you only a mirror reflect them. If they can’t alignment with their “Source”(True Self; Tao; Brahma), and as an alignment-deliberate-creator you only a mirror reflect them. *** *** *** And most important is if they just only know how to Kiss any kind of Dark-Tyrant-ruler’s-ass, no matter of it’s in a country, in a family, in a body-mind, in a religion-belief-system, or in a morality-belief-system, ….: Maybe they also want you to do something, just like them. *** *** *** Specially when they all said blind-obey and Kiss any kind of Dark-Tyrant-ruler’s-ass is my fate and my life itself only meaning and the most highest value …: *** *** *** Are only built to Kiss-any kind of Dark Tyranny Ruler’s-Ass, And I follow orders like a dog, it's what made me a "man"(woman; children). *** *** *** Because…: Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation. ~Qscar Wilde *** *** ***  You get what you expect, have you noticed that?  And so, how have you been programmed to expect?  *** *** ***  The spirit of the individual is determined by his domination thought habits. ~Bruce Lee Kushandwizoom  *** *** *** The most dangerous creature on this earth is a fake "friend"(no matter of it’s in country; family; mind-body-belief-system or religion, morality, education, political-belief-system). *** *** *** But no matter of outer-world what it look seem to be…: Make sure yourself is your true-honest-sincerely-heart-friend, because you will company yourself in every lifetimes, in every day, in every area ….^^ *** *** *** Because…: Humankind is the only virus cursed to live with the horrifying knowledge of its host's fragile mortality. *** *** *** And ~~~! The host kills the virus, or the virus kill the host. *** *** *** Because…: If this is all a dream, a Maya, a mirage, it's long as fuck....: Because lesson repeats until it is learned….: It has 5000 years in China. It has 7,000 years in India.  *** *** *** I consider I am the giant stone statue of Easter Island. As seer…. Observing the heavens and the earth, the sun and the moon, the planet, human beings, billions of years. *** *** *** And…: I don't know you through your past, I know you through your heart. ~Mooji *** *** *** Between egoism and "Source"(Tao; True Self); Between man-made-rules and "Source"(Tao; True Self); Between desires and "Source"(Tao; True Self); Between your-origin-face and "Source"(Tao; True Self); *** *** *** Between your heart, my heart and another heart; *** No matter what... You learn more about someone at the end of a relationship than at the end beginning of it. *** *** *** Life is "Tao"(True Self；Brahman) back to itself. I observed the sun, moon, stars orbit operation life. *** *** *** Because…: "Nature"(Tao；Ma-at；Logos; Source) never did betray the heart that loved her. *** *** ***

[bigskydreaming]

The Tragedy of Bruce and Dick and Jason...and Tim...and Damian...and, well, you get it

I maintain that Dick’s history with juvie and the system is actually crucial to understanding his and Jason’s dynamic, not to mention the reasons Bruce took Jason in at all in the first place. 

Its usually described as though Bruce took in all his kids because they reminded him of himself in various ways, but that’s not really true. With Dick, yes, its been clearly canonized this was his motivation. He looked at Dick, who does look a lot like Bruce, especially when they were both younger, and saw a mirror of himself when he was a kid and had just lost his parents. He eventually took Dick in because he wanted to keep Dick from turning out like he had, consumed by his mission, his need to keep bad things from happening to other people, like had happened to him. To make sure Dick had more to his life than just that. He wanted a do-over in a lot of ways. Raising him was a way for Bruce to kinda see how his life would’ve turned out differently, how he would’ve ended up, if he’d taken a different path, if there’d been someone who understood his pain and the intensity of his drive to DO something with all the emotions his parents’ death left him with. 

Yes, of course Bruce had Alfred, but its also been clearly laid out in the comics that Alfred  - for as much as he saw Bruce as a son - just couldn’t relate to him in the same way Bruce could to Dick. He never really understood Bruce’s need to become Batman, he just went with it and supported him anyway, because he’s Alfred and that’s what he does. His kid wants to dress up like a giant bat and go fight crime? Well, okay, lemme get my sewing machine, guess he’s gonna need a costume.

And then with Tim, well, Tim came to Bruce, not the other way around, and they’ve always had an understanding because they come from very similar backgrounds. Same social standing, similar environments....Tim was neglected by his largely absent parents, not actually orphaned (until later), but Bruce definitely saw reminders of his own self-imposed isolation in Tim’s parentally-imposed isolation.  There’s similar links and parallels between Bruce and Damian, Cass and Duke.

Jason was always the outlier.

Bruce never took Jason in because he saw a reminder of himself in Jason, (with the exception of Jason’s anger, which he could relate to on many levels, sure). But Jason’s story really has zero parallels with Bruce. Bruce met him when he was stealing the tires off the Batmobile. Both his parents were still alive, even if they weren’t exactly nurturing influences. He came from a wildly different social background and upbringing, was foul-mouthed, angry, bitter, vindictive, petty. Hell, he didn’t even actually look anything like Bruce, the way we tend to joke about Bruce taking in boys who look just like him. Originally, Jason had red hair. Bruce dyed his hair when he made him Robin. The idea that Bruce took Jason in for the same reason he took in his other kids, because he saw himself reflected in him, saw what he could’ve been if his life had gone a little differently, it just doesn’t work. On any level. There’s no scenario in which Bruce ever could have lived any version of Jason’s life. No scenario in which Jason was only a few degrees removed from Bruce’s own personal experiences.

No, Bruce took Jason in for one reason and one reason only - because he looked at him and saw Dick Grayson. He saw the boy Dick Grayson could have grown up to become if Bruce hadn’t taken him in, if Dick had been left to rot in juvie or elsewhere in Gotham’s corrupt system. If Dick had fallen through the cracks without anyone to catch him, the way Jason clearly had.

Forgetting where Dick came from, ignoring his original backstory, completely obliterates Bruce’s entire motivation for adopting Jason. And it completely erases Bruce’s real role in the trainwreck that became his relationship with both Jason and with Dick, not to mention the original relationship between Jason and Dick.

Because Bruce fucked up, big time, when he took Jason in. Oh, not that he shouldn’t have done it, but in the WHY he did it, and the fact that he never really acknowledged this and nobody ever really called him out for it. With Dick, Bruce was trying to give him a better life. Even if he fumbled and went about it the wrong way, his motivations were still pretty pure. Bruce was aware enough on some level of his own flaws, his own deep-seated dissatisfaction with his own life, to genuinely want to steer someone he saw himself in from going down the same road, making the same mistakes. A huge number of Bruce and Dick’s early conflicts were essentially Bruce frustrated that he didn’t know how to get Dick to stop making the same mistakes Bruce himself regretted making. Not getting that it still had to be up to Dick whether or not he did, that the choices ultimately had to be his. 

But with Jason....Bruce’s motivations were not so selfless, and they were not nearly as self-aware. Bruce took Jason in pretty much in the immediate aftermath of his biggest fight with Dick ever, when he fired Dick as Robin and basically kicked him out...entirely out of an emotionally stunted sense of self-preservation. The idea of Dick being hurt, of losing him if he died, it terrified Bruce so completely that he pushed him away, as though if he lost him on HIS terms, deliberately, that would somehow be better, it’d hurt less. Except it didn’t. He regretted it immediately, but he didn’t know how to fix it without owning that he’d fucked up, without explaining to Dick WHY he’d done what he did, allowing himself to be vulnerable and admitting just how terrified he was of losing him....and Bruce just was not capable of that at the time (as if he is now, even).

And so then he’s out fighting crime one night and returns to the Batmobile, to find some scrawny little kid stealing the tires off it. A kid who wasn’t remotely apologetic, who was defiant, and ballsy, and not about to be intimidated by even the goddamn Batman, who swung his tire iron at this giant dude in a Bat costume, spitting and kicking and screaming as if he had the slightest chance of winning. It didn’t matter to him that he didn’t, couldn’t, Jason Todd was going down swinging. And in that moment, you can not tell me that its himself Bruce Wayne saw. That he looked at Jason and saw any version of himself or the kid he once was or even one he could have ended up as.

Nope, he saw Dick Grayson, the tiny little acrobat who’d guilt tripped him, HIM, into letting him dress up in bright yellow and green and run across rooftops taking on bad guys twice his size, villains he shouldn’t have had a prayer of defeating but did anyway, because he just refused to accept an alternative as reality. He saw the kid a young, angry Dick Grayson could’ve grown up to be if he’d been left in juvie, if he’d never had anyone else take him in and show him the kindness he thought he’d never see again after his parents died. He saw the Dick Grayson who’d been originally consumed not with Bruce’s desire to pursue justice, but with a desire to pursue REVENGE. I know everyone tends to view it as the other way around, but that doesn’t actually check out. Even in the backstories where Bruce finds the actual killer who murdered his parents, Joe Chill, Bruce’s own views on killing restrict him from every taking revenge rather than just making sure he goes to prison. 

Not so, with Dick. Another element of Dick’s original backstory that everybody largely glosses over, even if they do technically keep it in mind - Dick Grayson wasn’t born this pure, virtuous, glowing saint that so many fans and other characters make him out to be. The exact specifics vary in the different versions of his backstory reboots have resulted in, but in the vast majority of them, this is a kid who ran away and ruthlessly hunted down his parents’ murderer, Tony Zucco, and who usually had every intention of killing him if Bruce hadn’t stopped him. Dick was old enough to know right from wrong, murder is bad, blah blah....he just didn’t care. And Bruce didn’t stop him by making some compelling argument or showing him the error of his ways, he didn’t tell him anything Dick didn’t already know. Essentially, what all those various takes on the Zucco plot boil down to is Dick only really refrained from trying to kill Zucco, settling for bringing him in, because Bruce wanted him to. Because Bruce was the first and only person to show Dick any kindness since his parents died, and THAT is what Dick clung to, that was what he didn’t want to lose. 

(A little off topic, but additionally I’ve always maintained that Dick doesn’t have this obsessive anti-killing stance that most people make him out to, being even more rigid in it than Bruce. This is the guy who has an extremely complex relationship with Deathstroke, who’s mentored Ravager, who is the closest sibling relationship Damian has, not to mention his relationships with Huntress, Midnighter, Tiger, etc - all people who have killed many, many times, and often without remorse. Yes, Dick broke down after his role in Blockbuster’s death, and he had a panic attack immediately after killing the Joker, before Bruce resuscitated him - but if you ask me, this isn’t because his personal morality doesn’t make allowances for killing, its because deep down he’s still insecure about his place in Bruce’s life, and that HIM killing someone, specifically, could cost him his father’s affections. Which is a TOTALLY different thing from being too good or pure to kill, which is how he’s often painted as by writers and in fandom).

Anyway. Point being, the surly, defensive kid Jason Todd was when Bruce met him was absolutely someone Dick Grayson, orphaned circus kid remanded to juvie and likely to have fallen through the cracks and ended up on his own if Bruce hadn’t intervened, could have ended up as. And so while Bruce had looked at Dick that first night at the circus and seen the potential for a do-over for himself, the road not taken, with this cemented on the night he steered Dick away from killing Zucco and instead prioritizing (Bruce’s personal view of) justice.....Bruce looked at Jason that night in Crime Alley and saw the potential for a do-over for his relationship with Dick, with the son he’d driven away, possibly for good.

And herein lies the fuck-up. Because while I do believe Bruce eventually grew to see Jason as his own person and love him on his own merits, for himself, and not just as Dick 2.0, he took too long getting there, and hurt both Dick and Jason way too much along the way. All because he’s too much of a control freak to just accept that it was these tendencies that’d driven Dick away, that HE was the problem. Yeah, Dick contributed, sure, but Dick was the child. Bruce was the parent. It was always his responsibility to suck it up, swallow his pride, and be the one to reach out and repair the damage he’d caused by pushing Dick away. But because Bruce has so much trouble admitting where he’s done harm, he couldn’t do that. He’s this weird dichotomy of self-aware and willfully blind. He has no problem seeing his flaws when they exist in a vacuum. When they’re ones nobody’s getting actively getting hurt by in the moment. But because so much of his personality is centered around his all-consuming desire to protect his loved ones, keep them safe at all costs, ensure that he doesn’t lose them the way he lost his parents.....over and over and over again in the comics, he proves incapable of recognizing when that very same desire is the thing that’s actually harming them. He took in half a dozen kids who all shared a need to fly, to spread their wings, and time and time again kept falling in the same trap of trying to clip those same wings because he was equally terrified of them falling.

But because Bruce was so willfully blind to his own role in hurting his son, couldn’t reconcile his desperate desire to keep Dick safe with the realization that he was the one doing Dick the most harm.....he HAD to convince himself that Dick was the problem. That if he, Bruce, had made mistakes, that they were mistakes that he’d done along the way, places he’d gone wrong in raising Dick, resulting in Dick growing up to be this person Bruce could no longer relate to, no longer see himself in, that he couldn’t be a father to. And so, with Jason, he saw a chance to do it all over again, and do it right this time. Fix the mistakes he’d made the first time around, be a better father, make sure Jason didn’t grow up to be the man Dick had grown up to be, the way he’d once set out to make sure Dick didn’t grow up to be the man Bruce had become.

And so he created this trap that Jason and Dick had no chance to avoid falling into. There was no way around it. Because unintentionally or not, he’d pitted his two sons, two brothers, against each other before they ever even had a chance to meet. He’d made it a competition that both were doomed to be stuck in even as neither could EVER hope to actually win. Dick was screwed because he could never hope to beat the kid that Bruce had essentially replaced him with, not when Bruce had only done that because due to his own fuck-ups, Bruce had decided Dick needed replacing, because their relationship was beyond repair. And Jason could never hope to beat the kid that Bruce had taken him in to replace, because he was from the get-go pitted against Bruce’s IDEALIZED image of his first Robin and son, the person he WANTED Dick to be, and who didn’t actually exist outside of Bruce’s refusal to admit his own fault in his fractured relationship with Dick.

The very things he did that were GOOD for Jason, healthy, helpful, empowering....at the same time, HURT Dick. He adopted as his official son and heir within months of meeting him, even though he didn’t end up adopting Dick, his son of over ten years by that point, until years after Jason died, long after Dick was already a grown adult. And this was a good thing for Jason, at first. Bruce DID love Jason, had already by this point started seeing all the ways Jason was his own person, not a second Dick Grayson, and being officially adopted gave Jason a sense of security and certainty in his place there that he desperately needed. Problem is, Bruce only adopted Jason so quickly and easily because he recognized that this was a mistake he’d made the first time, with Dick. That it’d been a mistake putting off adopting Dick, that he’d always backed out of showing Dick the adoption papers he’d had drawn up for YEARS by that point. All because Bruce was afraid of rejection, that if he tried to insist too hard on being Dick’s father, tried to actually draw comparisons between himself and Dick’s first father, the idolized John Grayson, he’d come up short and get an answer he was afraid to hear. It was easier with Jason, since Jason had never had a good relationship with his own biological father and had zero problem rating Bruce the clear winner in any competition between them.

But of course this hurt Dick at the same time it helped Jason, because he HAD always wanted Bruce to officially adopt him, and it was his own insecurities that kept him from broaching the subject and asking why he hadn’t. The very fact that Bruce knew to do this with Jason, that it’d been a mistake not to push it with Dick, was because on some level, Bruce did know that Dick wanted this, needed this even, and that his own fears of rejection were baseless paranoia.....there’s no way to avoid this compounding his issues with Dick, because it meant that on some level, Bruce had once again denied Dick something he desperately needed and craved from him. A clear indication of their relationship, where Dick stood with Bruce, how Bruce viewed him. Ironically, at the very same time this proved that Bruce’s fear of Dick rejecting him were baseless, it proved that Dick’s insecurities WEREN’T baseless, because his place in Bruce’s eyes WASN’T entirely secure. He COULD be replaced.

And there’s the irony of Jason’s nickname for Tim. “The Replacement.” Only it was never actually ironic, so much as it was insightful. Born of Jason’s own insecurities. Because long before Tim came along, in the original family drama that was Bruce and Dick and Jason.....JASON was the original replacement, and they all knew it, only Bruce refused to admit it. Kept trying to act like it was all in Dick and Jason’s heads, even while every choice he made with the two of them just hammered in the reality that it WASN’T. Neither of them was stupid. They were the original sons of the world’s greatest detective. Trained to be observant and insightful. To read between the lines. They knew damn well that everything Bruce did with Jason was only because Bruce had decided (at the time) that his relationship with Dick was beyond repair. Unsalvageable. He’d essentially given up on Dick as a son, written off any possibility of having the father-son relationship he’d always secretly wanted to have with Dick, all because he refused to admit he was the one standing in the way of that and refusing to accept the man Dick had grown up to be, differences of opinion and all....and so had started over with Jason. 

And Dick saw exactly what Bruce was doing, cuz Bruce isn’t exactly subtle when it comes to his personal relationships and his emotional issues. So it pinged every single insecurity Dick had ever had, and HARD. And once Jason saw Bruce and Dick interacting and heard the nature of their arguments, he saw exactly what Bruce was doing, and began second-guessing every good thing about his and Bruce’s relationship, wondering (with validity) how much of it had happened while Bruce was wishing it’d happened with Dick. Which of course pinged every single insecurity Jason had ever had, and HARD. 

So from the moment Dick and Jason met, with a few rare exceptions where they were able to see past the Bruce-sized elephant in the room and view and interact with each other on their own merits, as their own persons, and just be BROTHERS, rather than dysfunctional sons of the world’s most repressed dad....Bruce and Dick and Jason were all locked in this never-ending cycle of Hurt, Rinse and Repeat.

Bruce adopts Jason. Jason is glad. Dick gets mad. Jason realizes why Dick is mad, and now Jason is mad.

Bruce makes Jason his new Robin. Jason is glad. Dick gets mad, because Robin was his mom’s personal nickname for him and not remotely something Bruce was ever the right person to give away. To make Jason his new sidekick, sure. But not with that name, the name Dick chose to honor his relationship with his mother. Jason realizes why Dick is mad, and now Jason is mad.

Bruce is happy when Jason calls him Dad and encourages it. Jason is glad. Dick gets mad, because Dick never felt encouraged or safe in calling Bruce Dad, even when he wanted to, because Bruce never encouraged it or even hinted it was what he wanted because Bruce was insecure and afraid Dick just didn’t view him that way and would never want to call him that. Jason realizes why Dick is mad, and now Jason is mad.

Over and over and over, every single damn thing Bruce did just compounded the harm he caused both his sons in doing it. All because he refused to just admit what he really wanted all along, and actually WORK at making a reality - to be a father to both Dick and Jason, and have both of them view him as such.

And that’s the tragedy of Bruce and Dick and Jason. They all wanted THE EXACT SAME THING ALL ALONG. But only Bruce could make it happen. No matter how much Dick and Jason wanted it, no matter how they raged at each other and blamed each other for not having it, Bruce was always the only one who could actually make them the family they all wanted to be. Because he was the parent. He was their dad.

And if you want your kids to accept you and call you and love you as their dad, you gotta do the goddamn job. Instead of calling do-over every time you fuck it up.

So of course Jason felt threatened by Tim when he came back, and of course he resented Tim, and called Tim “the Replacement.” Even though Bruce hadn’t actually sought Tim out as a replacement for Jason, there was no way for Jason to know that and no reason for him to believe it when told it....because Bruce had done this all before. With him! Every time Jason lashed out at Tim with that name, it was his own insecurities talking, his conviction that he’d been relegated to the same backburner he’d once seen Bruce shove Dick to, that he’d once insecurely expressed smugness about, when he could point to Bruce’s open affections as proof he was loved, but now knew exactly how it felt. But it wasn’t like Jason could take comfort in the fact that Dick was now welcomed back in the manor, that he was at Bruce’s side again. Because Bruce STILL had never acknowledged where he’d fucked up. In the wake of Jason’s death, Bruce and Dick eventually repaired their relationship....but only because DICK did the work. Was the one to reach out and make it happen, with Bruce so grief-stricken over the loss of Jason he didn’t have the obstinacy to KEEP pushing his remaining son away when he came bearing an olive branch.

But even with that, Dick and Jason at least were still painfully aware that should never have been Dick’s job to do that. To step up, be the bigger man, the more mature adult, even though he was the child in that relationship. Dick did so because it wasn’t worth it to him to insist on being in the right, even though he was. He eventually decided he’d rather have Bruce in his life on Bruce’s terms than not at all. But it was never his responsibility to do that, and that means Jason was never in the wrong to refuse to do that. To make it easier for Bruce, and coddle his own father when every child of Bruce Wayne’s has just as much trauma as he ever did, and he has no excuse for not doing the goddamn work of pulling his head out of his ass and giving his children what they need from him. Some actual honest, sincere, and UNSHAKABLE certainty that no matter what, he is their father and always will be.

And without that, the cycle was always doomed to repeat itself. First with Jason and Tim...because Tim might not actually have been a replacement for Jason in Bruce’s eyes, the way he’d unintentionally ended up making Jason a replacement for Dick. But without Bruce ever actually owning up to the mistakes he’d made with his two eldest, there was no way to address the fact that Jason’s insecurities here were NOT baseless, that he had actual reason to worry that this is exactly what had happened. There was precedent.

And then it happened again. Because by the time Damian came into their lives, Tim - who also is not an idiot, and easily the most detective-like of Bruce’s first four sons - had been firmly entrenched in the family drama for some time. The Tragedy of Bruce and Dick and Jason had for a few years now been the Tragedy of Bruce and Dick and Jason and Tim. He, like Jason before him, had had a front row seat to Bruce’s obstinate refusal to admit his role at the center of this tragedy, and so clearly could see Bruce’s patterns and how his selective doling out of favoritism went hand in hand with who Bruce currently viewed as beyond repair, in terms of father-son dynamic at least.  

So just like both his older brothers before him, Tim viewed the newest Wayne son as a threat, and a replacement. And just like both Dick and Jason, he wasn’t wrong to do so. He wasn’t RIGHT, either, but that doesn’t mean he was wrong. That his fears were baseless. And so this time, just like when Tim had been the newcomer, circumstances were different, but the end result was the same. Bruce hadn’t sought Damian out, and Damian hadn’t come to him in the same sense Tim had. But once there, Damian received the lion’s share of Bruce’s attention as Bruce attempted to forge a bond with him, and so this time, it was the transitive property in reverse. Tim saw Bruce behaving in the way Bruce always did when a new son came into his life and occupied his focus, with tunnel vision - because Bruce always defaults to tunnel vision when committing himself to a new endeavor - and Tim reverse-engineered from there the belief that he’d been replaced and thus must have done something wrong, had somehow been lacking. Because that’s the pattern in their family. Without exception. 

(Among the boys at least, Cass always having been exempt from this fucked up little family tradition due to being the sole girl and never a Robin, thus occupying her own little niche that had no direct competition, unlike the boys who always ended up locked in that same competition Bruce had initiated with Dick and Jason so long ago.)

And thus it became the Tragedy of Bruce and Dick and Jason and Tim and Damian. With again, always, the painful irony being every single damn member of this family wants nothing more than the exact same thing - to be a family, and equally secure in that knowledge.

I honestly don’t know how much this pattern has repeated with Duke, as due to not reading DC much since even before the nu52 for the sake of my blood pressure, all of my knowledge of Duke comes from fandom and fanfic. Which is more than enough to make me love him, but means I don’t feel comfortable including him in meta currently, because I don’t actually trust fanfics and issues synopses to have the same interpretation of the characters and dynamics that I’d have if I read them myself. (Seriously, I’m a little ticked off at how it took me like three years to learn that Duke’s a meta, even, which is extremely interesting information and something I was very interested in knowing, and am side-eyeing the hell out of a lot of fandom for how long this bit of NON TRIVIA took to show up on my radar. Like, its not exactly a small detail, if so many ppl leave that out like what the hell else is getting left out of fandom takes on Duke and his character and story? Ugh, I can’t believe I gotta start reading DC again, u guys let me down, why would u do this to me, ur the worst).

Anyway. Thought this was gonna be a little bitty post about how much Dick and Jason actually have in common and it ended up a Bruce Why Are You Like This essay. That actually sounds about right though.

The end! 

(For now.....)