#jason todd robin is setting things straight

[gothamite-rambler]

Gordon meets the 2nd Robin

Commissioner Gordon: Batman and Robin- That is not the same kid.

Batman looks at his Robin (12 year old Jason Todd) as the kid looks around.

Batman: You have no proof of that.

Gordon: The last Robin you had was nowhere near this short. That dude was at least 17 or 18 when I last saw him.

Batman: Um... Hold on I have a reason for this.

Robin (jokingly): Magic.

Robin chuckles at his joke as Batman shakes his head with a smile.

Robin (with a different pitch in voice): I'm Robin, that's all you need to know.

Gordon: They don't even sound the same. They have different builds. You "adopted" another child?

Batman: It's not weird!

Gordon: It's weird.

Robin (indignant): Why does this bother you so much?

Gordon: What?

Robin (standing his ground): I'm Batman's vigilante, I am his voluntary vigilante, his sidekick. He took me in and cares for me. That's all you have to be informed about. I agreed to wear this suit that has to mean something. He's not a dibbler if that's what you were wondering. I'm not crying, I'm standing next to this man in the cold, the Gotham cold, ready to fight crime. I'm built for this! If I had an issue I'd kick him in the balls and run. If this bothers you so freaking much ask the kid. Hi, I'm the kid. It's fine.

Batman (impressed): ...

Gordon: Damn, geez sorry. Sorry.

Robin: It's cool, it's cool, I'm just warning you. You should know this by now. He works with people, said sidekick is a highly skilled and trained kid. If you see him standing with someone in a robin suit do not be thrown off by that fact.

Gordon: Okay, okay.

Robin: Thank you, I'm going to walk around the roof and look at stuff.

Batman: Okay, stay on the roof.

Robin: Yes, sir.

Robin walks around the roof while looking at the roof, off the ledge and being goofy.

Batman (appreciating his new son): Neat, right?

Gordon (annoyed): Yeah... neat was not the word I was thinking of.

[rin-may-1103]

The Wrong Robin Au (part two?)

Previous | Master Post | Next

"Alright, kid." Danny sighed as he walked back into the motel. "tell you what, you tell me everything you think you know about me and bats, and I'll be Robin. Deal?"

Tim's eyes widen in surprise, "wait, really?" he asks, dropping the third Oreo he had been trying to balance on Sam's forehead. Sam snored, her nose twitching in agitation for a moment before going back to normal.

Tim leaned back, keeping an eye on her. "do you really mean it? you'll come back and fix him?"

Danny sighed, "I can't promise that I'll be able to fix him, but I can promise to do my best."

Tim nodded his head, "That's all I ask." then the kid stood up, holding his hand out for Danny to shake, "We got a deal, Robin."

Danny smirked, unable to keep a straight face at how cute the kid was being. Reaching out, he shook his hand.

"Right, first things first. Who's Batman, and why do you think so?" Danny asked, making his way over to the table. Tim followed behind him, his face brightening up in excitement.

"Bruce Wayne of course," Tim cheered, plopping down onto the chair across from Danny.

Of course, another rich fruit loop would be Batman. Why not? What's next? Lex Luther was Superman's archnemesis? Oliver Queen cosplayed Katniss Everdeen?

"I thought Dick Grayson, Bruce's ward, was Robin at first. It had made sense, or at least mostly did but I wasn't completely sold on it. I only really thought it was him because Robin was able to do a quadruple backflip, and only Grayson's family was able to do that. but then I saw you! and it makes perfect sense!" Tim smiled excitedly, leaning forward as he continued.

"You were able to do the flip, AND you acted just like Robin did! Dick doesn't act like Robin in public, or ever really. But you do! You did the flip, you make puns! you even bit that one mugger!"

Danny blinked before slowly nodding his head; Well, at least his personality wasn't going to be a problem. "right, makes sense," not. it did not make sense, but who was Danny to crush this kid's hopes. also, how long ago was this? because Danny hadn't done the flip this time... he's definitely bitten a criminal or two over the past two weeks, but the flip? that had to have been back when he first got his powers... he vaguely remembers his parents dragging him around the country on some trip Vlad set up for them.

see, it was totally Vlad's fault.

"and who was the second Robin?" Danny asked, leaning back and crossing his arms.

"Bruce's second kid, Jason Todd," Tim replied, not smiling anymore. "The Joker killed Robin over in Ethiopia. Jason went missing and was declared dead around the same time."

"Right," Danny coughed, glancing away from Tim. "and what else do you know?"

"Well, I know Commissioner Gordon's daughter, Barbara, was batgirl..." Tim trailed off with a wince, obviously not liking the conversation anymore. Danny had to agree, the whole class had been informed about the dangers of Gotham City. Barbara Gordan had been one of the examples they used.

"I know that you're using a fake name!" Tim suddenly added, looking more lively now. Danny blinked before sighing, "Yeah? and why's that?"

"you used your bat training to make a fake identity to throw Bruce off your trail! That way you would have more time to settle in with your new team! and it worked for a while, that is until he caught up to you and your team. it doesn't seem he knows about this identity, so you've been using it ever since Jason's death. because you're mad at him."

"and why am I mad at him?" Danny asked, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. Just what had he gotten himself into?

"because he didn't tell you about Jason's death." Danny glanced back at the kid, watching as he looked away and out the window. "just like he didn't tell Dick..."

had he finally connected the dots? had he finally realized he got the wrong person?

"why would he not tell you two?" Tim asked, turning to look up at Danny. Danny shrugged, turning to look back at the ceiling. "grief makes people do things they never would have before." like becoming a billionaire and spending twenty years scheming on how to murder a single man. or it could make them more obsessed with their work.

Danny knows Greif, he's had to deal with it for years now. It's the only thing he understands about why Batman has changed so much. Greif, especially for someone you love? It changes you, it holds onto your heart and never lets go. It can drive you insane if you let it.

"he was so caught up in his own grief he didn't realize that there were others who needed to grieve with him."

"Oh," Tim replied.

they sat in silence for a moment before Tim spoke up again.

"I know where the Batcave is."

Danny blinked. Right. Batman. Batcave. the bat-themed vigilante had a secret lair and it was a cave. That checked out. At least it wasn't in the basement.

"yeah?" Danny prompted, "And where's that?"

"under the manor," Tim replied, crushing any and all hope Danny had for Bruce Wayne.

It was official. All billionaires were fruitloops. Danny didn't care if they didn't all have secret basements, they were fruitloops.

Next

[celaenaeiln]

“always an angel, never a god” and making it about the robins with batman is heartbreaking and all but have you considered:

the robins to the previous robin.

robins 2-5 looking at robin 1. the hero worship, the love they have for dick grayson. they want to live up to “the golden boy” “the golden standard”. they want to make him proud.

but dick grayson himself? he looks at batman, in his eyes he doesn’t live up to his mentor. sure he thinks he’s good, but it’s not like he thinks he’s the best. to himself, he isn’t “the golden child”, he’s not “the golden standard”, there’s too many mistakes, too many sins, to make him view himself the way others view him

“always an angel, never a god.”

Anon are you providing a sample? Drop the album!!

Just - Perfect.

There's actually a time when Damian is feuding with Tim about something and he's like Grayson is the "Golden Child", Todd is the "Black Sheep", and you're something something. He didn't actually say "something something" but you get the point. Damian doesn't like to be forthcoming with his words, but - "We were the best, Richard. No matter what anyone thinks." THOSE WORDS CAME OUT OF HIS MOUTH. The fact that Damian literally calls him the golden child tho is literally ascending me. He loves his dad.

Jason gets fear-gassed once in Truth & Justice (2021) comic and it reveals that one his worst fears has always been about living up to the massive legacy Dick left behind. There's a change in the way Dick is portrayed because Jason is terrified of Nightwing, not Dick. Because he knows that Dick loves him and stuff but Nightwing is downright petrifiying. Because Nightwing and as Robin, Dick created the firsts for everything. The first partner, the first side-kick, the person who created their world. Not just Jason's but Dick opened up the gateway to Every. Single. Hero. That came after him. And he did it perfectly. He excelled in every aspect imaginable and then surpassed them to create the golden standard that every single person that came after strived to touch. Not just for what they should do, but who they should be.

Tim straight up tells Dick to his face every time that Dick is the best robin that ever existed. No squalms, no hesitation, it's just pure fact for Tim. There is simply, no one better.

Batman/Catwoman: The Gotham War: Scorched Earth

Stephanie didn't have a lot of interactions with Dick and she wasn't close to him but she still had a huge deal of respect for him. It was almost deference, the way she treated him. I considered that it might be because he was Batman but she treated Batman very differently than she treated Dick!bats.

But despite literally every single Robin thinking how perfect Dick is, how unattainable he set the standards, Dick himself feels so pale in comparison to his mentor.

I wrote this post a long while back regarding Dick's thoughts of insecurities about bruce to the tune of Toxic Thoughts by Faith Marie which pretty much encapsulates all his worries. But the thing is, even Bruce tells dick how amazing he is and he's so much better than him, and he means it.

There's a time when Bruce fights each of his former robins and he takes them all down easily but he's trekking his way to the last one and he's says "Attack of the Robins, that leaves only the first one. Hand-to-hand, the toughest of them all." He says this all in his mind. Which means when he tells Dick he's better, he really means it but Dick? Dick will never, ever understand the weight of Bruce's sincerity towards him. He always thinks he's not a good enough leader, good enough detective, good enough whatever there is. In his mind he will never be good as Bruce in anyway because for him Bruce is the best person to ever exist. For him, despite everyone in the entire superhero community exalting him and singing his praises, he feels he'll never be like his hero.

"always an angel, never a god."

Anon, that - 😌🤌✨

Glorious. Simply a magnificently apt description.

But you know who this insecurity really affects more than him?

The Robins! Literally everyone else!

You know, there's actually panel about Roy that explains how he feels about Dick's insecurities towards Bruce-

Arsenal Issue #2

And the reason why I brink it up is because I think this is exactly how Jason feels about Dick. In Jason's eyes there is no one better than Dick and it's a nasty feeling that the person he thinks it the best feels inferior to someone else.

Tim also has opinions on the same line except in his case, he hates Dick's unconditional loyalty towards Bruce (yes I'm referencing gotham knights). He loves Bruce but he hates that Dick loves him to the point that he'll follow him endlessly because he has this romanticized, rose-sunglasses view of Bruce. WHICH IRONICALLY ROY ALSO FEELS-

The Titans (1999) Issue #15

Gotham Knights Issue #26

Where it bothers Roy and Jason that Dick would think anyone is better than him, it rankles Tim and Roy that he's being subservient to a mentor he's far better than.

Even Steph was like, "Dude we need you. Where were you?"

Batman and Robin Eternal Issue #2

And Dick's like "Bruce needed me.."

Batman and Robin Eternal Issue #2

He looks so tired, doing God's bidding. But this aligns perfectly with the fact that Bruce has a canonical god complex AKA consistently inflated feelings of personal ability, privilege, or infallibility. People who have god complexes are highly dogmatic in their views, meaning the person speaks of their personal opinions as though they were unquestionably correct.

Literally and metaphorically he's an actual angel because he works as a messenger of God (Bruce in the DC world) and is the epitome of goodness, someone who always offers comfort and aid to everyone.

[sagaduwyrm]

On the Grounds Where We Feel Safe

When Tim gets a letter claiming to hold his soulmate, who he's never met, hostage, he's skeptical. It turns out pretty great though. Now if he can just make sure not to make a fool of himself.

We have your soulmate , the letter claimed. It seemed ludicrous. Tim hadn’t even met his soulmate yet, and it wasn’t like Red Robin’s mark had ever been exposed. There was no way some D-list villain could have found whoever it was. Really, he should only be going to this for the chance to catch the annoying asshole.

It just seemed like a weird lie, was the thing. If they just wanted to lure him out, there had to be more believable options. Claiming to have captured one of the other members of Young Justice or another bat would have made the most sense. His teammates went no-contact for various reasons all the time, so it’s not like he could double-check.

But no. They had his soulmate, apparently. It just seemed inane.

They were more competent than expected. Tim snuck into the facility with the ease of long practice, but they must have had magic wards because he tripped some kind of alarm barely a few minutes in. He would have noticed a technological system, but his abilities with magic were more limited, like most bats. In the immortal words of Jason Todd, ‘Just set it on fire and call Zatanna if that doesn’t work.’

Tim was eighty percent sure Jason was the only bat with any real degree of familiarity with magic, but that was neither here nor there. It just made the advice more accurate.

It was kicking his ass now though. Usually he’d be doing this with a team, hopefully with at least one person who could have noticed wards, but he had drastically underestimated the size and threat of this operation.

Generic security guards dragged him through the halls, and he did his best to memorize the layout. He’d taken out the first few thugs, but frankly, he was only human, and he needed to save his energy for something more useful. In the meantime, he pressed the only emergency beacon he had that would eventually worm through the wards to call his family and examined the halls they were dragging him through. The atrocious minimalism and poor layout design were making it irritatingly difficult to keep them straight in his head.

There were four villains in the room he was brought to, three more than he was expecting. One wore a thick cloak she’d probably bought off Etsy and a cheap Eye of Horus necklace, and Tim instantly pegged her as responsible for his magic problems.

“Woooow. You assholes know how to make a Robin feel loved. What’s the occasion? Is it Christmas? You shouldn’t have.” Tim bared his teeth in a smile that had his guards leaning away from him. If he could just get them talking, this would be a lot easier.

One, the leader, threw back her head and cackled. “What’s the occasion? What’s the occasion? Didn’t you read our note? Meeting your soulmate is the chance of a lifetime! We're doing you a favor, don’t you think?” She grinned down at him. He tilted his head, bird-like.

“You know, I’m pretty sure I could swing a better meeting than this. Get some candles, jazz up the place a little bit. Your interior decorating is kind of shit.” Tim channeled the robin spirit of his predecessors and took a shot at annoying them. Instead, the woman’s demented grin grew wider.

“But your blood will look so pretty on the floors! Do you think we’ll kill him or you first? I can’t decide!” Her teeth had red in them, Tim noticed. She turned to the guards at the door. “Bring him in!”

Fuck. So they did have a hostage. Probably some poor civilian who’d got dragged into these assholes' lark and was going to need years of therapy after this. Fuck his life.

A few tense minutes later the guards walked back in carrying a black teenager maybe a little taller than Tim between them. He was struggling, doing his level best to kick at their ankles and jab at their kidneys, but the mercs didn’t even shift. Tim was grateful the hostage was a fighter at least, that could make it easier to evacuate him.

The lead villain strolled over to the civilian. Honestly, Tim wasn’t sure why the rest were here. They practically faded into the walls. She seized the boy’s chin and he tried to spit at her. She laughed. “Our little witch spent months divining for this! Ready?” She cackled and dragged his face over to meet Tim’s eyes. They both froze.

His eyes were green, Tim noticed, and lined thickly in black, like kohl. They dug into Tim's chest like his heart was moving to make room for another, two hearts beating as one. Everything felt more vibrant and alive. Tim couldn’t breathe.

The leader was still laughing, he noticed distantly. She had slumped back against the wall to keep from falling over, and her entire body shook with contortions. Her eyes were bright with bloodlust.

Tim was fucked. He was so completely fucked. Not only because this guy was stupid pretty and he could practically feel his higher brain functions turning off, leaving him a steaming pile of bisexual goo, but because his soulmate was barely five feet from a villain who practically dripped insanity, and he still had thirty seconds to go before he got his hands untied. Absolutely, completely, and totally fucked.

The other boy had stilled when their eyes met, but he tensed again as one of the other villains stalked towards him.

“I knew it,” the man snarled. “I knew it. I wonder, if I hurt you, will Red Robin bleed?”

The boy's eyes widened before hardening. Tim desperately hoped he didn’t do anything stupid. His call signal still needed more time to get through to his family. 

“Don’t damage him just yet!” the leader called out. “Start with his fingers and toes, we want this to last .” Her grin was alarmingly demented.

The other boy finally had enough. “Yeah, let’s not.” He kicked out at the ankle of the guard holding onto him, causing the man to release him. At the same time, Tim made his move. Fuck, civilians with no sense of self-preservation were the bane of any vigilante, but it being his soulmate was somehow worse. If he could just get over there in time—

A rush of sand curled up around the boy, as if from nowhere, and launched the villain near him into a wall. His eyes glowed golden, and his stance indicated some training. Not a civilian, then. 

Tim kept moving. He dumped half a dozen taser bugs on anyone in reach, leaving them keeled over on the ground, and darted forward. The guards had left the door open when they brought the other boy in. Tim grabbed him and launched out the door, practically carrying him, while the boy did something over his shoulder to hold off pursuers. The way out was blocked, but the facility was huge. They eventually managed to lose the villains, tucked up in some kind of meat locker. They curled up against the walls, catching their breath.

“You know, this was not how I expected our first meeting to go,” the other boy said.

Tim laughed, “I’ll be honest, with my luck this isn’t really a surprise.” The other boy snorted. He was beautiful when he laughed. It was an ugly sort of giggle, the kind the media would mock a person for, the kind his parents trained out of him as their heir, but it lit up his face in a way that made Tim stare. He belatedly remembered to introduce himself. “Red Robin.”

“From Gotham, right? Call me Pharaoh.”

Tim squinted at him. He was putting on a good show of confidence, but there was a tenseness to his body that couldn’t be hidden, and some of the summoned sand floating near him was curling into tight knots. “Haven’t heard that code name before. You new?”

Pharaoh waved his hand in a so-so gesture. “It’s mostly just that I stick to my hometown. We’re tiny, so we stay off the radar. And I usually manage to stay out of the news anyway.”

Tim nodded, but his eyes sharpened. Deliberately keeping out of the news wasn’t exactly a red flag, but it usually indicated something about the person in question. If you had a code name that you were clearly used to, but didn’t use for the public… There weren’t exactly any conclusions he could draw yet, but he tucked the knowledge away into the back of his brain anyway. “Do you have anyone you can call?” he asked.

The boy grimaced. “Not really. Two are out of the country, one doesn’t carry a phone, and the other is the only person back home right now and I can’t ask her to leave.”

Reasonable. The bats refuse to leave Gotham without at least one of them too. “I sent out a call, but it’s going to take a bit for it to get past the wards.”

“Can I see? I might be able to speed it up.”

Tim handed over his beacon. “You’re a magic user?” He was guessing sand-manipulating meta, but magic made sense too.

“Uh-huh. I’m not the greatest with wards, but I am a dab hand at tech,” Pharaoh said while prying open the beacon. As he held it, golden light crept from his hands into the wires, forming shapes that looked like some of the hieroglyphics his parents used to obsess over. Tim was vaguely surprised. Constantine had once mentioned that there were only a few people in the world who could do any kind of technomagic. Even the magic on his gear was secondary to the tech rather than embedded in it.

Tim got up and started looking around the room as Pharaoh worked. They couldn’t stay here for long. He moved some furniture around to block the door. It should collapse on the head of anyone who tried to get in. He shifted one of the ceiling tiles around and found there was a good amount of space between the floors. Perfect.

Pharaoh shouted in delight and Tim turned to see the connection light on the beacon turn on. Assuming there wasn’t some kind of emergency, they should have backup reasonably soon. The other boy was still grinning, “Dude, I think I’m in love with your tech. This is amazing.”

“If you like that you should see the batcomputer.”

“Can I? I do most of my stuff on a PDA I retrofitted, this is so much better it’s not even funny.”

“A PDA?” Tim blinked in confusion. How would you even—? He shook his head and gestured at the ceiling. “We need to get moving. They’ll have an easier time finding us if we stay here.”

Pharaoh nodded, still smiling from his apparent enjoyment of working with basic tech with little to no computational abilities. He clambered his way up with apparent experience. Tim wondered what kind of problems his hometown had that they needed a magic user who could do parkour.

Where Pharaoh needed a lift Tim scampered up. The sorcerer whistled quietly. “What kind of training do you even have?”

“Assasination, mostly,” Tim said as he started leading the way through the crawl space, carefully showing Pharaoh where to put his feet to make the least amount of noise.

“I thought bats didn’t kill?”

“Knowing how to kill is actually more useful in not killing people than not knowing how to kill, believe it or not.” Lady Shiva hated that.

“Huh. That sounds useful. I have to use specific spells when I want to just knock someone out, and I’m not as good at them so it’s a bit of a pain.”

“You like magic?” Data gathering, data gathering, if he was asking questions he wasn’t thinking about how nice Pharaoh’s voice was or how pretty his eyes were.

“Yeah. It’s like a puzzle, you know? There’s a lot of similarities to coding if you had to argue with the computer the whole time.”

Tim snorted.

They stilled at the sound of someone passing under them, and when they were gone Tim turned around for a second. “Hey, what do you think about picking some of these guys off?” He’d originally planned to keep them out of the fight until backup arrived, but he was getting the impression more and more that Pharaoh was competent enough to keep up for a bit.

Pharaoh grinned, and it was a sharp, unkind thing. For a moment he looked as regal as a king about to declare war, and Tim wondered if there was more to the code name than he had assumed. “I thought you’d never ask.”

+++

“Where are they?!” the leader of the villains roared. “The facility is completely locked down, they couldn’t have gotten far!”

The guards winced and opened their mouths to explain when the door slammed open and one of the other villains ran in. He was bleeding, with weeping sores up and down his arms and crush damage on his fingers. “They’re picking off the guards!”

“What? What the fuck happened to you?” The leader screamed. The witch villain, who had been melting into the wall, ran over to attempt healing magic. The others barely noticed her.

“Three-quarters of our men are unconscious, and won’t wake up. And that little ‘civilian’ soulmate tried to crush me with sand!”

The witch spoke quietly. “He must have cursed you too. This isn’t healing.” The villain looked down at his wounded arms and screamed. Golden hieroglyphs climbed their way out of the blood and up his arm, and he felt his body go numb. Within thirty seconds he had keeled over unconscious except for the occasional scream, like he was struggling with nightmares wherever his mind had gone.

“No no no no no! This was supposed to be it! Our big break! You!” The leader turned to the witch. “You said he was a civilian! This was supposed to be easy!”

Out of nowhere the ceiling above them crumbled and down came several bats and members of Young Justice. When they finally got the beacon it took them almost an hour to get to the location, leaving them tense and ready to take it out on Tim's captors.

“I hope we aren’t interrupting anything!”

The door banged open again as they finished mopping up the remaining villains and mercenaries. Red Robin and a boy in civilian clothes tumbled through the door.

“Hey! You’re late!” Tim yelled.

Robin hissed at his older brother. “You needed help to save a single civilian then?”

Tim grinned an unholy grin. “Oh, right. This is Pharaoh. He’s my soulmate.”

The room burst into yelling.

[beautyconsumer]

Whumperless Whump Event Day 2

A Merciful Angel

Does your insurance cover this?: Car accident / Bystander caretaker / “Eyes open, ambulance is almost here.”

@whumperless-whump-event Second day! Late but done! Also cross posted on AO3

Relationship: Jason Todd/Grant Wilson

Fandoms: Batman, Batfam, Deathstroke (comics)

Content and TW: delirious behavior, non-graphic injury, hurt/comfort, short & sweet

Honestly? More than painful, or anything else; it was embarrassing.

Being trained to withstand wilderness, taught survival skills, enduring pain and the humiliation of Slade's insults and aggressiveness wouldn't have prepared him for this.

He wasn't even staying there for long, who the hell would want to anyways? Gotham was not a nice city to visit, it wasn't pretty or comfortable to be in. The only reason he was there was because it happened to be on his way.

He should have listened more intently to all the warning and creepy omens about this grimmy place. But Grant knew he wouldn't have listened to a threat until it hit him straight to the face.

In this case, sort of literally.

He groaned weakly, and pathetically writhed over the pavement.

He got hit by a freaking car.

The driver had immediately bailed.

He almost wanted to laugh, but if he did he might rustle his bruised ribs.

He's struggling to catch up with the situation when he takes sight of a figure, the lamp pole of the street illuminated them, creating a halo of warm light over him.

A stark difference among the gritty, blue, gray hues of the city.

Oh man, he must be dying cause he's staring at an angel.

When he finally caught glimpse of the familiar black domino mask and the loud combination of colors, aversion churned in his stomach. The last thing he needed or wanted was Robin witnessing his misery.

Which, of course, Robin's Batman was from freaking Gotham. But from what he last heard the freak had graduated himself from that title.

But these cherubic black curls and kind, worried posture under a bright yellow cape was nothing like the Robin he knew.

A merciful angel taking pity on him.

Grant blinked with drained strength, “Pretty…” he unintelligently mumbled.

The figure looming over him hums, a gloved hand goes over his cheek, and Grant takes in the warmth it produces, then noticing the cold in the rest of his body. His clothes are damp with the dirty puddles of the street.

Another stronger light blinds him, he squeezes his eyes shut.

“Hey now,” a steady patient voice says, “Open your eyes.”

Grant reluctantly obeys if only because he somehow already feels in debt with the beauty he has in front. The light sets on his right eye, Grant takes effort in keeping his eyes open.

“Good,” he says while moving the light to his other eye, voice hypnotizing and soft, “I'm Robin, can you tell me your name?”

Grant felt dizzy, reason not in his reach, yet he somehow knew not to give away information of himself to strangers, despite them looking devine and from heaven itself.

Grant was in casual clothes, he remembers, the lack of his mask noted. He's not overconfident and bold Red X.

Rationally he'd act like Grant Wilson.

But logic is not on the tablet right now.

A giddy crooked smile makes way past his senses.

“You can call me however you want, baby.”

Robin freezes, then quiet tremors rattle his body in what must be chuckles.

Grant's smile widens in satisfaction.

His eyelids feel heavier each second passes.

“No, none of that,” Robin says firmly, “Eyes open. Ambulance is on its way.”

Grant does his best to keep his eyes open, if anything to keep looking at the boy.

Red lights blink accompanied by a loud blaring noise, nausea and shivers set to second plane when said light makes it able to appreciate Robin's features more.

The domino mask can't quite hide his jaw nor the heart shaped form of his face. Those characteristics are gonna be clinging into his mind despite his efforts to keep this damn city out of his hair.

“You're gonna be alright,” Robin says.

Yeah, he's gonna be just fine.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Eyes and Ears

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: An AU where Barbara finds Jason instead of Bruce.

Chapters: 9/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon, Jim Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Sheila Haywood, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): Jason Todd/Original Character(s), Past Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Older SIbling Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd-centric, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Jason Todd is NOT Robin, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Has a Crush, Adopted Siblings

Chapter Nine: Nightjars

Jason waited on the roof, swinging his feet as he sat on the ledge. The black of night and lights of Gotham shone beneath him. He tilted his head back and looked up into the sky at the darkness as a familiar wave of sadness and fear washed over him. He took a few deep breaths, trying to pull himself together.

It wasn't like he was scared of being home alone. He kept trying to tell himself that, but the way his hands shook after waking up from another one of his nightmares said otherwise. "Hey, got space enough for two?" a voice asked. It didn't startle him in the way that it usually would have.

"I'm not gonna jump. I'm just waiting for my sister to get home," Jason mumbled.

"You say that like your sister is Batgirl," he chuckled as he sat next to Jason. Jason turned to him, and he gasped.

"You're the Boy—. Robin. You're him," Jason whispered, "Did she tell you to come here?"

"So she is your sister? And no, I'm just in town. Thought I'd stop by," Dick smiled, "And thanks for not calling me the Boy Wonder. I'm a little old for that. Why are you waiting for her up here?"

Jason tried to conceal his trembling hands as he spoke. "Pop's out of town... It just feels weird knowing he's not in Gotham, so I'm watching from up here until she gets back," Jason explained himself.

"How long have you been—? It's none of my business. If she wanted me—."

"Almost five months. Didn't really think I'd be here this long, but they feel like family," Jason confessed. A breeze blew past, and Jason shivered.

"Come on, I'll make us an omelet," Dick whispered, "You like eggs?"

Jason nodded and followed Dick back to the apartment. They climbed into Barbara's window, and Dick went straight to the kitchen as if he'd been there before. "Who are you?" Jason asked.

"She really didn't tell you?" Dick asked. Jason shook his head. "Well, if she trusts you... Dick Grayson." Dick held out his hand, and Jason shook it.

"Jason Todd... Or Gordon. Not really sure how the name thing's gonna work long-term... People really call you Dick?" Jason asked. Dick nodded as he took off his gloves and mask and set them on the counter.

"So, Jason... What's it like having Barbara as a sister?" Dick smiled. He cracked a few eggs and chopped up some peppers and sausage.

"I thought I was stubborn, but I think she's got me beat," Jason replied, "But I've never had a sister before, so I dunno... Maybe they're all like this."

"Nobody's like Babs, trust me on that," Dick replied, "But yeah... Stubborn. That's her."

"But she's also a good friend," Jason whispered.

"Oh, boys. Now, who's gonna tell me I'm pretty?" Barbara asked. Dick and Jason turned to her. "What are you doing here?"

"When were you gonna tell me you had a little brother?" Dick asked. Barbara messed up Jason's hair.

"I would've told you the next time we talked... Jason, what are you doing up?" she asked.

"Having an omelet with your friend, Dick," Jason answered casually, and Barbara cleared her throat. "I couldn't sleep, so I went up on the roof to wait for you."

Silence fell over the kitchen, and Jason looked at both of them. "Who's taller? You or Wonder Girl?" Jason asked.

"Which one of us are you asking?" Dick replied.

"You say that like Barbie knows Wonder Girl," Jason replied. Barbara sighed.

"Barbie?" Dick grinned.

"Don't start," Barbara went into the fridge and poured herself a glass of juice.

"I'm taller. Not by much," Dick answered.

"How many questions can I ask before it gets weird?" Jason questioned.

"Um, you can ask what—."

"He can ask three questions, eat his omelet, and go to bed," Barbara interrupted. Jason stuck his tongue out at her. "Three."

"Fine. How old were you when you started out as Robin?" Jason asked.

"Don't answer that," Barbara chimed in, and Jason opened his mouth to argue.

Dick chuckled as he asked, "Why? How old are you?"

"Thirteen," Jason replied.

"I was around your age," Dick replied.

"Oh, you just love to start problems, don't you?" Barbara pinched the bridge of her nose. "You know he's never gonna let me hear the end of it." Dick made Jason's plate. "I told Jason I'd train him, but I don't want him out in the field. He's not old enough."

Dick nudged Jason and whispered, "You'll wear her down. It might take a while with her, but if you really want to change her mind, you won't give up."

"I'm not like Batman. He's not gonna wear me down. He's too young," Barbara replied.

"Oh, come on. It's not like you waited until you were an adult to throw on the cape," Dick scoffed. Barbara sat down next to Jason and sighed.

"Did you two used to date?" Jason asked. Barbara and Dick turned to him.

"Eat your omelet," Barbara replied before responding to Dick, and Jason started to eat while they argued. After he finished eating, he lay on the couch and drifted off to sleep. It wasn't until he'd been asleep a whole hour that they'd stopped arguing.

"Look at that," Dick chuckled, "He's out cold." Barbara picked him up and carried him back to his bed before returning to her conversation with Dick. "What's the story?"

"He was living in an abandoned apartment all by himself. Two parents dead, his birth mother in the wind... I don't want him out there because of what he's already been through. He won't really talk about it, but from what he's told me, his father was horrible to him," Barbara whispered, "I didn't want to say it in front of him... But when I took him home, I promised myself that I'd protect him. I can't do that if I allow him to do what we do."

Dick nodded and sighed. They talked for a few hours, and on Dick's way out, he whispered, "The biggest mistake you could've made was letting him know what you do, but all you can do now is train him as best you can and hope that he'll listen to you."

Barbara nodded, and once Dick was gone, she changed into her pajamas and checked on Jason. A thought weighed heavy on her mind as she went back to her room. It kept her up for the rest of the night.

[galaxymagitech]

Robins on a Rooftop

This fic was written for the Batfam Secret Santa 2023 (run by @wait-whos-batman) for @howtokillavampire, and it is...still technically 2023. You can also find it on AO3 here.

Summary: An encounter with the Mad Hatter goes horribly wrong and Tim runs away. Better to quit than to be fired.

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Mind Control. While under mind control, Bruce attacks Tim.

***

The lights are blinding. Tim had wondered why everyone looked so squinty on stage during the Gotham Academy Musical, and now he has his answer. The lights are blinding, except for the Batman’s shadow, which engulfs Tim like a creature from his nightmares. Tim’s going to die on stage and there’s probably something poetic about this, but Tim’s no Jason Todd. He has a B in English right now and he does all his reading on SparkNotes. So, he’s a whole lot less worried about poeticism right now and a whole lot more worried about the burning pain in his ribs (broken or bruised?) and the sluggishly-bleeding cut across his torso and the gauntlets wrapped around his throat.

Tim closes his eyes. His mind is terrifyingly blank, racing to nowhere, lost in fear and confusion. He can’t look. If he looks, he’ll see the white eye-lenses of the cowl and Batman’s mouth curled into a grimace and Tim can’t. He can’t see that right now, not if he wants to live through the next few minutes and prevent Batman from becoming a murderer. His murderer, to be precise.

Going against all his instincts, Tim forces himself to stop trying to peel Batman’s fingers away from his neck. He’s a fourteen-year-old non-meta human; he’s not going to be able to break the Batman’s grasp. It takes all his willpower to make his thrashing legs go still and let his arms fall to the side, but Tim manages. Then, he rotates right shoulder to reach behind him, feeling around desperately.

The thing about Tim is he’s not that great of a fighter. He’s good, sure, but not compared to the other vigilantes stalking Gotham’s rooftops—certainly not compared to the Batman. But he’s a thinker, and that just has to suffice. Tim’s been keeping track of this battle from the beginning. Every move—the way the goons shifted into formations like the cogs of a well-oiled machine, the way Batman joined that machine once the headband was slipped over his cowl, and the way Tim’s bo staff rolled across the floor when Batman brutally disarmed him.

It would be a lie if Tim said he’d led the fight to this point so that he could win. He just got lucky. But considering how unlucky it is that the cowl’s anti-mind-control circuitry was the exact part damaged in the fire Firefly had set, well…Tim thinks he’s owed that luck. And the universe seems to agree, because if Tim’s right—and he usually is—his bo staff should be somewhere right behind him.

Tim’s fingers close around the cool metal of the bo staff and he compresses it, twisting his arm back towards his chest. And then, bracing one end of the bo staff against the floor, he looks straight into Batman’s eyes and extends the staff.

Batman doesn’t go flying across the stage, but he grunts in pain and topples to the side, his grip releasing. Tim coughs, lungs screaming for air as he scrambles away from Batman, bo staff raised in a sloppy defensive position. He’s surrounded by goons and Batman’s making his way to his feet and Tetch is in the front row seat, sipping calmly from his teacup.

Tim can’t escape from Batman, but he doesn’t need to escape. He just needs a few seconds. Tetch’s eyes go wide as the cup pauses just before his lips, but it’s too late for the Mad Hatter. Launching himself off the stage, Tim somersaults and lands right in front of Tetch. In a single, fluid motion, Tim swipes the hat from the Mad Hatter’s head. And the jolt of electricity that strikes him a moment later from Tetch’s taser, well—that doesn’t really matter.

The goons freeze, before collapsing to the ground. Tim sees the moment Bruce returns to himself, the way the man’s posture switches from aggressive to guarded, with only the slightest hint of confusion. The Mad Hatter begins to flee as Tim struggles to his feet, muscles burning and twitching from the electric shock.

“Robin, are you—”

The lights are no longer on the stage, they’re shining directly on Tim. The Mad Hatter must’ve made it to the lighting box area at the back of the audience. But why isn’t he fleeing? Tim doesn’t get it. He raises a shaking arm to shield his eyes, grimacing.

And then Bruce’s eyes fall on Tim and the bright lighting is the least of Tim’s problems. Tim can feel the weight of Bruce’s gaze, heavy as a lead uniform weighing down his entire being. He knows Bruce is cataloguing injuries. He knows Bruce is comparing them to what he observed in the fight before he fell under mind control. He knows what Bruce is thinking. But when Tim tries to speak, the words catch in his throat like barbed wire and he coughs and coughs and coughs. By the time Tim’s throat is no longer burning, the stage is empty.

Stumbling forwards, Tim struggles up the nearest aisle, clutching the railing. When he makes it to the lighting box, he sees it’s empty. Throwing open the exit doors, Tim steps into the theater’s lobby. And there he sees Batman hunched over Tetch, his fists pounding into the Rogue’s face again and again and again—

Tim rushes towards his mentor, boots pounding even on the lobby’s carpeted floor. “Stop,” he says, and it comes out as a hoarse whisper. “Stop, just stop, just—” He pushes weakly at Batman’s shoulder, but of course the man doesn’t budge. Tim doesn’t know what to do. He can’t hit Batman and he’s too weak to pull him off and he can’t shout and it’s like Bruce is in his own world. It’s like Tim isn’t even there for him. Just Bruce and the Mad Hatter and failure.

Tim’s supposed to be better than this.

Tim’s supposed to keep Batman from falling over the edge.

Tim’s supposed to be Robin.

But, he thinks as Nightwing crashes in through the second story window, I was never a real Robin, was I?

***

It’s close to 5 am, but Tim doesn’t feel it. Only Friday patrols last this late—by now, he should be asleep in bed, under several layers of warm blankets. Instead, though, he perches on the edge of his chair, a mechanical pencil clutched tightly in his fingers. He’s holding it wrong, but that’s not the point. Pencil is erasable. It’s not the proper writing implement for a permanent resignation letter. Now that he’s drafted his letter, delayed as long he could, all that’s left is to write it for real.

It takes an effort to put the pencil down and pick up a ballpoint pen. And then, carefully, neatly, Tim copies his words onto a crisp, white sheet of paper. He tries not to let his hands tremble. He lets himself get distracted by how the wet ink shimmers in the lamplight, but only for a moment. When the letter is finished, Tim sets down the pen and lets out a long breath, feeling the air fade away through his half-open mouth.

Tim should be tired, but he’s not. And he’s certainly not excited either. And he’s not scared, he’s not. If Tim tries, he can still feel the pressure crushing his windpipe. And that’s terrifying, so Tim doesn’t try. Instead, he just feels detached, separated from the world, a second out of phase.

It’s fine now, Tim reassures himself. Tetch has been dealt with—brutally. Which is the real problem.

Tetch survived, but he’s been sent to the hospital, not Arkham. In the end, Nightwing had to pull Batman off of the Mad Hatter. It’s Tim’s fault. He was supposed to make Batman better, and maybe he helped in the very beginning, but all he’s doing right now is making things worse. Tim doesn’t know if he was just an excuse or if Bruce really was that angry over being mind-controlled into attacking Tim. But either way, if Tim wasn’t present to be hurt, Bruce wouldn’t have nearly lost control.

There’s an obvious solution there. And Tim tries to be a logical person, so when he sees a logical solution, he takes it.

He also takes the Robin suit, partially because he figures it’s safer to be out as Robin right now than a random (admittedly short) fourteen-year-old in rich people clothes. Tim will return it, eventually, but since he also kind of needs to do some break-ins (physical records are a pain and Gotham CPP is too messy to have converted fully to digital), he figures it’ll still be useful.

And it’s not—it’s not like Tim was going to last much longer as Robin anyway. Bruce would likely fire Tim for this mess. Maybe he’d phrase it as “I can’t bear to fail another Robin” and make Tim feel patronized instead of incompetent in a misguided attempt at kindness. But there’s no world in which Tim gets to stay Robin after how badly he messed up. Not just in the fire earlier that night or the fight at the theater, but afterwards, when Tim couldn’t tear Batman away from Tetch. He’s shown how useless he is, and Batman’s going to realize it soon if he hasn’t already. Better to quit before he’s fired. Better to leave now.

Tim really should be planning his break-ins, but instead he finds himself on a rooftop. He breathes in the smoggy air and tastes the strange cocktail of chemicals that makes Gotham home. From up above, the city looks beautiful, bright lights sparkling across a dark canvas. From down below, Tim would still say it looks beautiful, but from here—

Well. Tim can understand why, after all these years, Bruce has never given up on Gotham.

Tim doesn’t know how long he sits there, but he figures it’s got to be a while, because he hears the sound of a grappling line slicing through the air and then a whisper of footsteps behind him.

“Mind if I sit down?” Nightwing asks. Tim shrugs. Dick folds his legs into a seated position next to Tim and looks out at the glittering lights. “Bruce went to check on you and…he found your note.”

“My resignation letter,” Tim clarifies. It still hurts his throat a bit, but Alfred’s possibly-magical lozenges are a lifesaver. Technically, he was told not to talk, but all Bats are experts at ignoring medical advice.

“Yeah.” Dick turns towards him. “Look, I…we understand. Bruce understands. It’s fine if you have to get out for a bit. But what I don’t get is…why did you run away? It was terrifying, seeing that note and not knowing where you were. Bruce was in panicking and I wasn’t far behind.”

There’s something distinctly off about Dick’s phrasing, but Tim can’t put his finger on it. “It’s easier if I get a head start on things, you know?”

“A head start?” Dick tilts his head curiously.

“Well, if I stay then Bruce will have to call the CPP, and I don’t want to get swept up into social services and maybe get a social worker who’ll remember I existed and ask to meet my uncle,” Tim explains.

“What.” Dick says flatly. “Tim, you don’t have an uncle.”

Tim gives him an unimpressed stare. “Yeah. Which is why I have to fake one, and it’d be super frustrating to have to hire an actor to trick a social worker. So, if I leave now then I can resolve it all before Bruce has to deal with it.”

Dick puts his hands out like he’s pleading with someone. “Okay, um, can we back up here?” Tim shrugs. “Why would Bruce call CPP?”

“Because I’m not staying at Wayne Manor anymore,” Tim says slowly. He feels like he’s explaining it to a two-year-old, and—well, he knows that Dick is incredibly intelligent but right now it really doesn’t seem like it. “That’s…something you have to call CPP for? When the kid leaves your care?”

“Oh,” Dick says quietly. He looks away from Tim for a moment, takes a visibly deep breath, and then looks back. “I didn’t realize—That’s. That’s okay. It’s okay if you feel that way. You can stay with me, though. I registered as a foster parent a while ago in case something happened to Bruce. Robin can work with Nightwing and Dick Grayson can foster Tim. So, you don’t need to…invent a person.”

Tim throws his hands up in the air. “But I won’t be Robin!”

“That’s okay,” Dick says. “If that’s what you want, that’s okay.”

“But…it’s not a question of what I want,” Tim explains, looking down. “I left because quitting is better than getting fired! I don’t want Bruce to take away Robin, I’m not ready, but if I give it up, then…I can…I can pretend I’m okay.” It hurts to admit it, that he’s only pretending. Tim knew he wasn’t going to be Robin forever. He knew he was going to leave eventually. He had accepted that, he was fine with that, he liked that maybe he had a shot at actually surviving to an old age. But he’d always thought that he’d leave on a high note. After a good patrol. Bruce would congratulate Tim and thank him for his service, like a soldier retiring. And it would be like Batman was graduating or something, ready to exist without a Robin. Tim would know it was coming and choose it for himself. But, he’s not going to get that, so he has to pretend. “It’s easier if it hurts less. Cleaner. I—”

“Woah,” Dick interrupts. Tim freezes, gaze snapping to Dick’s face. “I don’t think we’re on the same page here. Why are you leaving again?”

“Because if I’m not Robin, then there’s no point in staying at Wayne Manor. I’m there—I was there because it was convenient for the Mission, that’s all.” No brainer.

Dick closes his eyes and leans back, before reopening them and scootching a little closer to Tim. “We definitely aren’t on the same page.”

“Why did you think I was leaving?”

“Well…” Dick shrugs. “Bruce did attack you with a batarang, bruise two of your ribs, and attempt to strangle you. And he was mind-controlled, but you still have that memory, so…we could understand if you need a break.”

Tim blinks at him, because that thought…never really occurred to him. He thinks of how his heart felt like it was going to burst out of his ribcage, how his mind turned terrifyingly blank, how Batman’s gauntlets dug into his throat, and—yeah. Yeah, that might make things a little awkward. But that’s Tim’s problem and he’ll get over it, because Batman was mind-controlled and Bruce would never, ever do that. And besides, he’s worked with people he was genuinely terrified of before, he’s worked with Lady Shiva, so even if he did suddenly develop a fear of someone who he shouldn’t logically fear, Tim would be fine. Right? Tim would make himself fine. “I’m fine,” he says, because he realizes he’s been silent for way too long. “It was Tetch doing that, not Bruce. I’m fine.”

“Bruce isn’t going to take away Robin, Tim,” Dick says. Tim hums disbelievingly, turning his head away and swinging his legs. He counts the thuds of his heels against the stone masonry. “But, even if he did—you don’t need to leave the Manor. You’re not here just because it’s convenient. You’re part of our family and you have a place here, Robin or not.”

“He isn’t going to take it away because I quit before he could,” Tim responds. It feels like he’s talking in circles with Dick. He should be breaking into Gotham CPP headquarters right now, not having pointless emotional conversations on a rooftop. “I failed tonight. I let him get mind-controlled and I couldn’t stop him from nearly killing Tetch. I failed as his partner and I failed as his light. And I’m not part of the family.”

“No. Batman isn’t going to fire you. You didn’t fail, and even if you did, you’re still learning. And you are part of the family. You’re Robin.” Dick smiles at Tim, and even though Tim knows he’s spouting complete BS, it warms something behind his two bruised ribs.

“Being Robin doesn’t make me part of your family,” Tim says. “And even if it did, Dick, I’m not Robin anymore, so I don’t belong with you guys.”

“Nope!” Dick says, overly cheerful. “You’re one of us now. No takebacks.” He shifts, expression turning serious. “For Bruce, Batman’s like a mask. A persona he puts on. But for us, Robin is…different. Robin isn’t a character we’re playing. It’s part of us. It’s who we are.”

“It’s who you are,” Tim corrects. Dick is the one who created the title. The first Robin. The one who defined what Robin meant. Jason continued the line and added his own flare. But Tim? He put on a uniform and went to work. “Robin’s always been temporary for me. I always knew I’d retire and just move on with the rest of my life.”

Dick shrugs. “Even if you quit, that doesn’t change a thing. We’re Robin, Tim, and that means something.”

“It means I saw a need and I filled it. Dick, I’m not—I wasn’t—a real Robin and you know it.”

“It means we took an oath. But—it’s more than that. We spent part of our childhood fighting crime from Gotham’s rooftops. Only we know what that’s like. Not Batman, not anyone else. Just Robins. We know what it’s like to fly. We fought to save a city that should’ve been fighting to save us. And we were so stubborn that we convinced the most paranoid and smothering father in the universe that the best option for us was blatant child endangerment. Tim, you stalked Batman to collect evidence of his recklessness, followed me to Haly’s Circus, and had the guts to present all this evidence to him and force him to make you Robin. You’re a Robin, Tim. It doesn’t matter if you never put on a domino mask again. You’re part in this family, whether you like it or not. You can’t leave.”

Tim snorts, before realizing that Dick is completely serious. And engaging with ridiculous arguments, especially Dick’s ridiculous arguments, is usually a path to disaster, but…Tim is tired right now, and Dick is right there, and this may be the last time Tim speaks to him ever again. Suddenly, he desperately wants to keep the conversation going for as long as possible. “Okay, one. That sounds insanely creepy. And two, shared trauma and poor self-preservation instincts don’t make a family.”

“They make this one. You’re not getting fired, but you’re definitely not getting kicked out of the family. I promise. So, please, Tim. Come home.”

And Robin lies and Nightwing lies, but…

…they don’t break their promises. They don’t break their oaths. Dick promises, and he means it.

So when Dick stands up, offering a hand, Tim’s fingers twitch. And then, almost against his will, he places his hand in Dick’s and pulls himself to his feet.

***

When they arrive in the Batcave, Tim barely gets a chance to take a few steps before Bruce is right in front of him, cowl off, hair disheveled. “Tim! Are you okay? Dick, where did you find him? Do you—” He freezes, before taking several steps back. “Sorry. Is this better?”

“I—” Tim begins, before Bruce cuts him off.

“I’m so sorry, Tim. I didn’t keep track of the fight and you paid the price for it and I am so, so sorry.”

“It’s—”

“And I understand if you want to stay with Dick for a little while or if you don’t feel you can be Robin anymore, but if there’s anything that would help, I would, I would—” Bruce is getting genuinely choked up and Tim needs to calm him down but he can’t get a word in edgewise. Tim turns to Dick with an expression of pure panic. “I’m sorry, I’m—”

“B,” Dick says loudly, rolling his eyes. “Let Tim speak.”

Bruce pauses and then bows his head slightly.

“I’m not scared of you, okay?” Tim says. This situation feels genuinely bizarre. “I’m not scared of you, I’m not—I’m not upset with you?” He thinks, looking at Batman, that if he wanted to feel scared, he could. If Bruce put on the cowl right now, so soon after the incident, Tim can…Tim can imagine how he might get scared. And if he does getscared, then he’ll figure that out. But looking at Batman, all he sees is Bruce: a mess, bags under his eyes, out of his mind with worry. “We’re fine,” he says.

“Oh,” Bruce mumbles, and Tim can see him smiling ever-so-slightly. “Oh, that’s. That’s good. But I’m—”

“Don’t say it,” Dick mutters.

“—sorry.”

Tim feels like he should ask if he’s going to get fired, but he’s not going to suggest it if Bruce hasn’t thought of that yet. This doesn’t feel entirely real. He’s not 100% sure that he’s not still on the theater’s stage, running out of oxygen, about to die. That seems a whole lot more plausible than this image of Batman in front of him, looking like—

—looking like a father who thought he might have lost his son.

“Bruce,” Dick says. “Tell Tim you’re not firing him.”

“What?” Bruce asks, bewildered, and Tim feels his heart sink. And then, because the universe apparently likes to play games of yo-yo with Tim’s organs, Bruce turns to Tim and says, firmly, “Of course not. You’re not fired. If you want to be Robin, then you can still be Robin.”

“He thought that you—”

“Stop it,” Tim hisses.

“This is important, Tim. Bruce, he thought you were going to kick him out, too.” Bruce stares at Tim wordlessly. Dick makes a vague encouraging gesture with his hand, but Tim can’t tell who it’s aimed at. “Bruce, are you going to kick Tim out?”

That shocks Bruce out of whatever confusion he’s in. “No!”

“I mean, if I’m still Robin—”

Bruce looks vaguely sick. “Tim, you being here isn’t dependent on you being Robin.” He sighs, and Tim can see Bruce’s gaze flicker over to Jason’s memorial. “It’s not conditional on anything. You are always welcome here, in this manor, in this family.”

Dick grins. “Told you, Tim. You’re stuck with us.”

Tim smiles too. Mostly to mimic, but—

He thinks he believes them. And he couldn’t think of a better family to be stuck in.

[stop-spreading-this-poll]

Round 1 Poll 85: Not Always Like That

Persona 5:

That the protagonist is enthusiastic about committing crimes. True, the protagonist is silent and up for interpretation. But what's one of the first things said about the protagonist? "" [Protagonist] was wrongly convicted for a crime after preventing a woman getting assaulted by a powerful politician."" He did not commit a crime because it's fun or something. It's because of his own set of justice and morals, he actually did not even commit a crime at all. It was the corrupt justice system that had wrongly accused him.

DC submission:

Jason Todd being an agressive, impulsive moron, he was a much less angry Robin than Dick (he said being Robin "Gave him Magic") Dick Grayson is the angriest bitch in the family and Jason is a literature nerd, he's no moron.

Jason Todd is the violent Robin is wrong. Jason was very sweet as a child, straight A's in school. He became violent following his death.

[thrushforreal]

It all happened so fast, the Joker escaped from Arkham, Barbara Gordon was shot damaging her spine - effectively putting Batgirl out of commission - the Joker gone in the wind not to soon after. The twins nightly rooftops jaunts left them with more violent pictures of Robin in action. And as the days go on the more violent and uncontrollable Robin becomes in his anger, until one night Robin wasn’t out.

Only a few days after did Bruce Wayne leave on a trip with his son Jason to Ethiopia, a trip that would last only a couple weeks and end in tragedy. Gotham mourned two deaths, or what they thought were two deaths, their own Robin, and Jason Todd-Wayne. Both caught up in an explosion set by the Joker, who was the reason that Batman and Robin were in Ethiopia.

The days and weeks that followed made it clear just how deeply this had affected not only Bruce but Batman as well. Withdrawing from his company and going out more as Batman. Trace has lost track of the number of times the two of them had to call an ambulance for common thiefs that he would catch.

This continued for three months until Tim couldn't do it anymore. He had already stopped taking pictures of the masked vigilante.

Trace decided to stay home to keep an eye on the Bat during his patrol, as Tim got a bus to Bludhaven. Richard Grayson had been hanging out around Halys Circus, so that's where Tim was going.

Tim basically ambushed Grayson at the circus, appearing after he heard something about a mystery that needed to be solved. He helped Richard, "Dick, just call me Dick," with his problem and was able to make his case.

"Batman needs help. He needs a Robin."

"I can't be Robin again, kid. I can't go back to being a sidekick."

"But he's getting harsher! Sending more people to the hospital! If he doesn't have Robin, he's going to cross a line he can't come back from!"

"I agree that he needs help, and I will help. As Nightwing, not Robin."

"You don-"

"Go home." And as Dick said that, he turned and left. Tim, while not completely failing, he hadn't exactly done what he set out to do. So home he went.

In the following months, things did improve slightly. Trace was happy to report back to Tim that the number of times they called 911 had dropped. Tim was refusing to go out, couldn't get good pictures of your heros if they weren't really acting like heros.

He did go out once with Trace, and despite his twin whisper yelling at him not to let the Bat see him, he went straight up to him. He confronted him on his actions the past months and told him that he needed a Robin because that was what kept him alive. Batman refused. He wouldn't be responsible for putting another child in that costume. For another child dying on his watch. Especially one that reminded him so much of Jason.

Then, six months after Jason's death came something the twins had worried about. Two-face had launched an attack on Gotham City and, in doing so, had somehow managed to trap both Batman and Nightwing.

Because of their nightly activities, the twins had been able to figure out where they were being held, but they were unable to contact the police about it before their doorbell rang. Trace got up and opened it to show that it was Mr. Alfred Pennyworth, the Wayne's Butler. "Ah, Mx. Trace, I do believe that you and your brother can help me with a dilemma." And first of all, how did he know that Trace used Mx instead of Ms? Was he psychic?? And second, Trace definitely knew what was in that suitcase he held. So they let him in and watched as he gave Tim a Robin suit.

"You'll have to forgive me for giving you an old suit, yours is still being made."

"Old suit... wait, mine? What do you mean by that?"

"I don't think that we have time for this chat Mr. Timothy, Masters Bruce and Dick are in need of help." That got Tim moving, putting the suit on and racing out to save the two. "Now Mx. Trace, if you would come with me. I am going to need help preparing the medical bay in the Cave"

"Absolutely!"

Trace helped set up but left back to Drake Manor before the others got back. Only one teenaged vigilante needed to be chewed out tonight. A couple week later, two suitcases appeared on their doorstep, one with Tim's new Robin uniform and the other containing one that was identical on most everything expect color scheme, a bandana, and a red cross where the R was on the Robin suit. That night, Gotham welcomed another Vigilante to go with Batman and Robin.

The Vigilante Thrush.

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

The Meaning of Robin

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/sy3PJuK by Vixilante Dick has had a shitty week. Dick is having a shitty day. His siblings fighting about Robin is not on his list of things he has to deal with today. So, he explodes. Or, Jason, Tim, and Damian are fighting, and Dick sets some things straight and gets a sibling cuddle pile as thanks. Words: 5092, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 4 of Whumptober 2023 Fandoms: DCU, Batman - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Relationships: Dick Grayson & His Siblings Additional Tags: Shock, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Good Older Sibling Dick Grayson, Dick is having a bad day, Robin is Dick's Legacy, Emotionally Hurt Dick Grayson, Jason Tim and Damian fuck up, they fix it, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent, but mostly fails, no spyral, Cass and Steph are best siblings, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I Wrote This While Listening to AJR's Music, this took me the rest of the month ngl, Robin Cuddles, Stephanie Brown is Robin, Cassandra Cain is a Grayson, Dick Grayson is Damian Wayne's Parent, no beta we die like cassandra cain, Dick Grayson Gets a Hug, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Good Sibling Tim Drake, Good Sibling Damian Wayne, he's trying now okay, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Whump read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/sy3PJuK

[coffee-latte-sprite]

Why Didn't I Ask Her Before?

Masterlist

Part 1 / Part 2 / Spin Off

Red Hood!Jason Todd x fem!reader

Warnings: Angst, violence, fluff

WC: 3,800

Synopsis:

Five years after your boyfriend's death, you may finally find some closure.

The cold wind licked your skin as you stare blankly down at the tombstone. The name engraved in the stone is barely seen from the nightlight shadows and from the years of rain.

You bring your hands out of your jacket and fiddle with the silver band on your finger.

You still hold a promise to your fallen love, even five years later.

You’re used to the sorry glances and sorrowed gazes, but you didn’t feel sorry. You felt the never-ending love from Jason, even if he was 6 feet under.

You still hold those deep feelings for him, he really was the one. No one could replace him.

You sigh and take a deep breath of the wintery air, as you let out a breath, the white cloud fizzled out.

Ding

You pull out your phone to see a text. You open your phone and see it was from Dick. You click his icon and call him as you walk away from Jason.

“Hey, what’s up?” You ask as you step back onto the gravel road from the damp grass.

“You forgot didn’t you?” Dick asked in a slightly teasing tone.

“Uh, no! Of course not!,” You laugh nervously, “I would never forget!” You ramble as you jog to your car and get your keys out of your coat pocket.

“Yeah, that’s why you are,” he paused to check his watch, “15 minutes late, going on 16.” He laughed.

“Hey, I’ve been stressed with school.” You say as you back your car out of the lot and onto the road.

“Yeah, Ms. Y/N, the famous lawyer.” Dick said longingly, “Ya’ know you’ll get a lot of business in Gotham.”

Dick was right, you would get a lot of business in Gotham, but that’s not the reason why you are deciding to become a lawyer.

Like Jason, you were fed up with the endless cycle of crime and were needing a solution. You remember the countless times Jason would call you in fury as another criminal got off the hook because of a crooked jury, judge, or lawyer.

Countless times Jason would be in a fury over the criminals as they walked scot-free just because they had the money and resources to evade the justice system, just for them to hurt more people. Just for Robin and Batman to swoop in and stop them, and just for them to come back a month later, as the victims’ list grew longer and longer.

That’s why you are becoming a lawyer, you are wanting to set the story straight and get back the justice system in this city, even if it took years, you were determined.

Another trait Jason loved about you.

“Yeah, I hope they can help pay my student debt.” You say truthfully as you stop at a red light, Dick laughed. “Bruce is happy to-”

“-Pay, I know. But, I don’t want my education from another’s person’s back. I want it-”

“-To be your own, blah blah blah.” Dick finished, you roll your eyes.

Dick and you became very close after Jason died.

When Jason was alive, Dick would sometimes tag along to some of your dates, but be in the back not bothering the two of you.

Jason wasn’t sold on the idea of his brother being there, but as soon as Dick got to your destination, he would be off doing his own thing, completely forgetting about you two.

One time, he left you and Jason stranded for an hour because he left without you.

After Jason died, Dick was there to help bring back the good memories and help ease the pain. Dick became your replacement, Jason.

Meaning, you and Barbera were down in the Bat Cave and helping stream intel to Batman and Nightwing.

It proved more helpful than hurtful to your studies. Had a question? Bruce or Alfred usually knew the answers.

It also meant that you knew everything going on in Gotham, except one. Red Hood, after a week of hearing about him, everyone suddenly shut you out.

The last thing you knew was that the Red Hood was ambushed by the Fearsome Hand of Four who were hired by Black Mask.

After that, you were out. Not a word from anyone about him.

But, you trusted them. You didn’t press the matter. They wouldn’t lie to you. . . right?

“I’m almost there.” You say into the phone as you turn down a road to see a silhouette standing on the sidewalk.

“I see you~,” Dick said into the phone as the silhouette waved, you flicker your high beams.

“Okay, bye.” You say into the phone and hang up.

You pull by the officer and roll down your window. “Hey, stranger,” Dick said as he leaned on your window.

“Hey,” you said with a smile.

To get extra credit for class, you offered to help the police station, meaning that you helped Dick around the office or in the field.

“You ready?” He asked as he looked behind him.

“Yeah, well, I mean, I’m not really doing anything.” You state as you look up the officer.

“You get to take pictures of this wonderful face,” Dick said as he put his hands on his cheeks and winked.

“Ugh, if that’s what you have to tell yourself.” You said with a smirk, which made him gasp.

Dick has invited you to an arrest, it was him, you, and another officer who was a rookie.

You were tagging along so you could see all parts of the justice system. You were going to take pictures then write a one-pager about the crime and how it ended.

You roll up your window and turn off the car while you grab your camera.

You ready yourself and step out onto the pavement and lock the doors behind you. You stand by Dick as you get your camera ready and look up at the sign of the bar.

Its pink and green neon lights make your eyes water.

“Man, it’s freezing out here,” The rookie said as he walked up to you and Dick. He was rubbing his hands over his arms and his face was all red from the cold.

“Yeah, I know,” Dick said with a smile.

The rookie couldn’t be older than twenty and was straight out of the academy. He was eager to learn everything there was and followed Dick everywhere.

“So, you’re the one who’s gonna take our pictures?” He asked respectfully.

“Yeah, it’s for school,” you say as you look up at him.

“Oh, that’s cool.” He said in awe.

“Yeah,” you draw out, focused on your camera, “Okay, let’s get going.”

===

Shots ring out as you cower behind a table.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

You were supposed to arrest the guy, get pictures, and leave.

But, as soon as you got inside, everything fell apart.

It was an ambush, there were over 10 guys inside waiting, not wanting to go down.

You press harder onto the blooded wound on the rookie who lay unconscious, Dick was fighting the gang, but he was getting outnumbered. And, he can’t be Nightwing, not when he is Officer Grayson.

“Come on!” You shout to the fallen rookie. You wanted him to wake up and help Dick, but deep down, you know that you were done.

Suddenly a window burst in, and glass shards flew through the air.

You shield yourself and the rookie.

You look up expecting to see Bruce, but it wasn’t him.

There stood in his infamous glory was Red Hood.

He was breathing hard as he grabbed his guns and held them up.

“Need some help?” He asked in a cocky tone, Dick cursed.

The whites of his eyes gaze over the room, they stop on Dick for a moment as he struggles against a bad guy, then continue down to you.

His body language changes, it becomes rigid as if he were made out of stone.

Then, a goon runs up to him and he kicks the guy in the stomach as starts to shoot.

Dick jumps back as he takes out a guy.

The Hood’s bullets stop and he begins to fight mercilessly.

You can’t hear him speaking over the yells of the other men. Then you notice as the Hood goes deeper into the room, it creates an opening to the door.

You grip the rookie and take the chance. You begin to pull him towards the door, he was heavy, but the amount of adrenaline through your body propels you enough to pull him through the door.

Once the frigid air of the outside hits your skin, reality sets in.

The panic and anxiety set in as you collapse as soon as the rookie and you were a few paces from the building.

You start to shake with shock. It was too much.

You weren’t prepared to see all of that blood and gore. You were used to pulling up intel and telling Dick and Bruce where to go and how to fight.

This was all too much.

“Hey!” A masked guy yells from the door to the bar.

He runs up and grabs you. As he pulls you up, you plant your foot and roundhouse kick him while hitting the gun out of his hand. You take advantage of his vulnerable state and grip his arm and throw him over you. Once he hits the ground, he’s out.

You breathe hard as you see the guy passed out on the pavement, then you hear the door open behind you.

You spin around expecting a fight, but you pause.

The Red Hood stood silently as he watched you. He let go of the door and it shut with a tap.

His eyes didn’t leave yours, both of you watching for the other to move.

“Thanks.” You say as you slowly ease up, but not fully relaxing. You didn’t know that much about the Red Hood, but you knew his work.

He stays silent as he looks around, seeming like he was looking for someone.

Then, like flicking a switch, he walks over to you in steady steps.

“Woah, what are you doing!” You say as he’s edging closer, “Hey!” You shout as he puts his arm around your waist then you hear his grapple gun go off.

You scream as the ground leaves your heels and the wind whistles in your ears. You put your arms around his large frame as best you could.

Your muscle memory from when Jason used to swing you two around as Robin set in immediately.

Then, your stomach sinks as you begin to fly down, you tighten your hold as you press your face into his shoulder, he chuckles.

You swing up again, then, you feel him tighten his grip on your waist, the faint muscle memory you had, made you prepare to hit a rooftop, and you were right.

Your feet hit the cement edge of a building and you pull away quickly.

“Who do you think you are!” You shout at him as you back away.

To say you were scared was an understatement. An unknown vigilante/ anti-vigilante just grabbed you and swung you to-

You stop as you look around.

It was Jason’s favorite spot.

It was the building of Jason’s favorite gargoyle, it sat and looked over the bustling city below. The wind howled past you as it caught your hair and coat.

The Red Hood watched as you recognized this place, memories of when you used to be there were toying with his mind.

His body worked on its own as he grabbed you, he was so afraid that one of those gang members were going to hurt you. His first instinct was to get you out of there, especially when he saw others starting to flock down the street.

“Sorry about that, I was. . . worried they would hurt you.” The Red Hood spoke to you honestly.

You cross your arms, “I can protect myself.”

The Hood smiled under his hood, oh how he missed your temper.

“Okay, Hoodie, I don’t know where you came from, but how about boundaries, like don’t just grab people, even if you are doing it for safety. Consent first.” You say as you point at him, your eyes narrowing.

“I’m sorry.” He said as he walked towards you slowly.

He walked towards you in a trance. Your body was captivating, your eyes, gleaming in the darkness, your voice, a siren to him.

“Yeah, you better be,” you said as you stood your ground and looked up to him.

He was in your personal space, but something about him kept you from stepping back.

“What do you want?” you ask as you reach up to bring a piece of hair behind your ear, but then the Hood’s heart lept.

He caught your wrist as you jolted.

His grip was gentle, so much as if the wind blew harder, your wrist would fall out of his hand.

He cradles your wrist as he brought your left hand to his eye level. His eyes in disbelief at the silver band around your ring finger.

“You-you have a ring?” He asked in surprise. The pride of this ring on your finger was overwhelming.

“Yes,” you begin as you pull your hand to your chest, the Hood didn’t hold a fight, “I was asked five years ago,” you say softly.

“Five years ago huh?” He asked, feigning ignorance.

You saw right through this, “yeah, um, do you know me?”

He hesitated, “Yes.”

Your eyes widen, “How?”

“School.”

“What do you mean?” You ask not believing him.

His jaw tightened.

This was a mistake.

What was he thinking? Bringing you here, the place where you both said the first “I love you’s”. He was torturing himself.

“Hey-just-” he groaned as tried to speak, the let out a dry laugh, “do you know how much restraint I have right now, and you,” he sighed as he closed his eyes tight, “are not making it any easier princess.”

The air is caught in your lungs as you gasp.

You haven’t heard that nickname in years.

There was only one person alive who said that nickname like that, with that accent. Even through the voice modulator, you knew who it was.

“Jay?” You ask, your voice wavered as it cracked. You clasped your hands tighter to your chest as you shook.

The Hood stood still as he let out a breath.

He slowly brought his hands up to his helmet and it fizzled as it unlocked.

He paused watching you, then pulled the helmet over his face and let it fall to the ground with a crack.

Tears blurry your vision as you look up at Jason, your Jason.

He was older. His hair was a darker black with a white streak in the front and his features were more defined. There was a scar over his cheek, and his blue eyes held a heavier burden.

Before he even had a chance to speak, you threw your arms around him and he held you close.

You both slowly sink to the floor as you both hold each other tighter. You were both shaking from crying and from joy.

Jason kisses your hair as you hold him tighter.

“Shush, it’s okay,” he says as his voice cracks, he runs his fingers through your hair, knowing it would calm you down.

You lean back to look up at him as he brings his leather gloves to your face and caresses your cheek. His eyes were in a frenzy as he looked at you, soaking in every aspect of your face. He’s missed your features and the comfort that came with them.

He gently wipes away the tears and replaces them with his kisses. He kisses your cheeks softly as he trails them to your lips.

You lean forward as the kiss is tender, it mixing with both your tears.

You missed him so much, so much.

He gently holds your face in his hands as he tilts forward and kisses you deeper. He was finally allowing himself to accept that this was real, you were real. This wasn’t a dream, it was real.

You both lean back and hug one another.

You could smell his cologne as you put your chin on his shoulder, it was the same as before. You smile and relax fully into him.

“Jay, I missed you so much.” You whisper as you close your eyes, enjoying the moment. Engraving everything into your mind.

He let out a chuckle, “I missed you more.”

“No, I missed you more,” you say with a smile and kiss his cheek.

He takes your open state and leans forward and captures your lips with his, this time the kiss was mixed with more passion.

You allow him full access as he gladly accepts. His grip digs into your sides, making sure that you couldn’t escape.

Your fingers weave into his hair and tug him closer. He then pulls you flush against him, he wanted to feel every part of you.

You lean back breathless, “fine,” you peck his lips as he whines for another kiss, “it’s a tie.”

He hums as he brings your left hand in his. You move around in his lap as you lean onto his chest and watch him play with your ring.

A smile was permanently written on his lips.

He brought your fingers up and kissed them, “I can’t believe this is real.”

You look at him curiously, “Why is that?”

He smiles softly, “Because I can’t believe someone like you, would love someone like me.”

“Jay, I don’t like it when you say things like that. You are my everything, and nothing will change that, I love you.” You say as put your right hand on his cheek. He nestles into your hand.

He welcomes your warmth as he’s been craving it for years.

“I love you too.” He says and breathes in your scent. You smile as you feel his warmth and listen to his heartbeat as silence follows, but it was comfortable. Both of you enjoying the presence of the other.

“Jay, why didn’t you tell me?” You ask as you look up at him.

The sounds of the busy street intensified below as he tensed.

“I just-Y/N, I’m so sorry,” He took a deep breath, “when I came back, I wasn’t in the best state of mind, and I didn’t want you to see me like that. I didn’t want to see you like that either. I was scared of hurting you, of going crazy and hurting you.” Jason said as he tightened his hold on you. Memories of the last five years were flashing in his eyes.

“I understand, but why,” you struggle for words, “-why didn’t you come back to me when you were ready? Like now? You seem well enough now.” You say as pain grips your heart. You were hurt and feeling betrayed.

“Because I am honestly still not ready,” Jason said as his grip loosened as his head hung limp.

“What do you mean?” You were uneasy as you spoke. A small voice inside of your head telling you to not press the matter and just enjoy being with Jason, but another part of you needed to know what he was thinking.

“I’m broken Y/N, and I’m still not...ready,” Jason said as he closed his eyes tight, he clenched his teeth.

Your stomach drops.

You knew it.

“Ready for what?” Your voice quivered, a lie you told yourself. You knew what he wasn’t ready for.

He looked at you, tears brimming his eyes.

Jason was always strong, always ready to bring on the world, but behind closed doors, he was still that kid from crime alley. Still fighting the unjust world and losing.

As he grew up, you started to notice that he didn’t just try to fight the world, but himself, and this battle in his eyes, was suffocating.

Tears fell down your cheeks. Your heart and lungs were being strangled as you watched Jason like this, so helpless and so lost.

It made you feel sick that you were the reason why he was going through this emotional turmoil.

“I’m so sorry.” He said as he hugged you, trying to hold onto the one thing the world was kind enough to give him. The one thing that kept him living and going on every day.

You were the one person who never gave up on him and you were always the only person who understood him. You would never know what that meant to Jason.

“No, don’t be, I’m sorry too.” You say as you look down at your ring. A bitter taste in your mouth.

Jason then followed your gaze, fear overtook him.

“NO! Please no!” Jason said as he watched you take off the ring. The silver seeming to burn you.

Tears were now streaming down his handsome face. No pain he ever endured felt worse than now. Nothing could compare to this. Nothing could ever come close to this.

“Please, princess, don’t please!” Jason was pleading with you as you soundlessly gave him the ring. You then pull away from him.

No fight was given.

“Jason, this ring was from a boy, a boy who was ready and not broken, but the man that I see now is not even close to that.” You say as try and hold back your cries.

Jason held your ring in both his hands, not looking at you.

“Jay,” you put your hands on his shoulders and crouch down, he still was only looking at your ring, “that’s why I’m giving back the ring. I don’t want you to try and build yourself up to that image, I want you to come back to me when you are you, not some copy of a young boy. I want you, Jason, not the past.”

You bite your lip to try to stop you from crying, you try and hold in the storm of emotions.

Jason didn’t move as you stood up.

He didn’t speak as you said goodbye.

He didn’t speak as he hears you walk away.

He didn’t speak as he heard you close the door to the staircase behind you.

He didn’t move as the bitter cold winds blew past him, erasing any trace of you.

He cried and pressed the ring to his chest and fell to the floor. Desperate to hold every happy memory, but finding it hard as the pain of now, overwhelms him.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Spin Off

He whispers as he succumbs, “why didn’t I ask her before?”

....

...

..

.

TAG LIST: @j-ma26-rb

[quillsareswords]

hi <3 so this is weirdly specific but could you do a scenario with vamp reader where one of the batfam gets kinds critically injured while on patrol in outer Gotham and they can't get back to the manor so Damian is like i know a place and then takes them to secret vamp gf's apartment???? ik it's really specific but i'd really love it :)

Darling you've read my mind. There are few things I live writing more than vampire reader fics

Damian Wayne x f!Reader

WARNINGS: blood, mild gore, impromptu surgery, utter lack of medical knowledge

PROMPT LIST and MASTER LIST in bio

Tim's bleeding out.

He's bleeding out in Jason's arms, and Robin isn't taking them to the Cave.

Red Hood's been growling and barking questions and curses and orders at the youngest man's back for seven minutes. He'll admit, reluctantly, that he's beginning to panic. Red Robin's got a bullet lodged between a rib and an organ, and a bullet hole shot clean through his side. There's a graze across one shoulder, but a stitch and an ace bandage could fix that easy.

They should be halfway to the Cave by now. They should've made a break for the abandoned Bat Mobile at the first opportunity they had. Unfortunately, they'd been boxed in. The only way out was to lose the crowd of pissed off dog-fighting assholes through a winding maze of alleyways that lead them away from the only mode of transportation within two miles.

Robin has some sense of direction. He knows something Hood doesn't. That much is obvious. He hasn't stopped to look around for three turns, despite knowing they've likely already lost the crowd. Still, he's not saying anything.

The most he gave Jason to go on was a winded, "pick up Drake, I know a place," and then he took off.

Red keeps mumbling. It's getting incoherent. It's strained, and he's trying not to let on how much it really hurts, even though everybody knows. They all know first hand.

Robin takes a sharp turn and skids to a stop at a door around the back of an apartment building. He's rushing with his keyring, the jingling of all the metal clinking splitting through the shadows left cast by the broken light above the door.

"Damian," Hood snarls. "Where are you taking us? He needs a doctor."

"We don't have time for a doctor," Robin bites back. The lock finally clicks and has to use his full weight to shove the steel slab open.

Hood doesn't have another choice, so he follows Robin up three flights of cement stairs, minding the distance between Red Robin's head and the half-rusted steel railing.

Robin stop abruptly and shoves through another door. He leads them down a hallway, with faded, flattened red carpet and doors with chipped wood. He stops again at the last door on the left, keys chiming in his hands again.

The moment it swings open, Robin grabs Redhood by his arm and pushes him inside first.

A stranger peers around the corner from the kitchen, one eyebrow raised.

Hood stares back. An apartment. This must be the wrong place. There's a civilian right there–

"What's–? Who's this? Is he bleeding? Is that your brother?" Your voice raises a little higher each question. Your half full glass teeters when you all but throw it back onto the counter to lunge around the wall. "Damian?"

The door slams behind Hood. He barely registers it, brain overloading with such a tower of information being dropped into his lap.

Robin steers around Hood, mask pulled clean from his face. "He's been shot twice, I need you to help me stitch the first one and remove the second bullet."

The shock is still gleaming in your eyes, but you spin around and sweep everything from the kitchen island. It all crashes to the floor, but you hardly seem to care as you turn to another cabinet and start pulling out first aid packs.

"Put him there," Damian instructs, pulling the green glove from his left hand first.

"What happened?" You demand, ripping the zipper across the first canvas bag.

"It was–" Damian's breath catches with his right glove halfway off, "We broke up a dogfight, they were not pleased."

Your gaze jumps from Tim as Hood lays him down to Damian. His hand is blooded, knuckles blooming dark purples and blues and ugly yellows around split skin.. "That looks nasty."

He stops for a spare moment, staring down at the throbbing appendage. "It is," he hums.

You sigh, digging through the red canvas pouch. "I'll start on him, you go get the ice pack." You take a carpet needle and a spool of stitches from the bag. You glance Hood up and down. "What about the other one? He hurt?"

"Todd's fine," Damian dismisses, waving his good hand in the same manner as he ducks behind you to get to the refrigerator.

"Hey, demon? You wanna, ya know? Explain?"

Damian glances over his shoulder as he reaches into the freezer drawer. "This is Y/N. Y/N, this is Jason Todd and Tim Drake."

You're already bent over Tim's left side with a pair of scissors. He's losing the most blood from the exit wound, so you're starting there. You glance up, just in time to watch Jason pull the helmet from his head. He looks angry. "I assumed. Anyway, the good news is, he doesn't smell like death and I'll be honest, I'm really wishing I hadn't skipped breakfast."

Damian still behind you, staring down at your hands as you cut away at Tim's uniform.

It's an odd comment to make. What does breakfast have to do with any of this? And what did you mean? Smell like death?

He finally has the time to get a good look at you. He doesn't know what he expects. The exhaustion of a nurse? The collectedness of an ex-medic? The focus of a doctor?

Whatever he expected, it wasn't the borderline glowing yellow he finds in your eyes or the restraint in your stare.

A vampire. Damian brought his bleeding brother to a vampire.

"Damian–"

Damian's already staring him down. "Do not. We'll discuss later."

He refocuses on you. You've got the bloodied alcohol wipe discarded beside Tim, and your hooking the needle through skin for the second time.

You're surprisingly quick about the stitches and the bandages, but Jason nearly faints when you round the island to his other wound, where the bullet is still lodged, and plunge your fingers straight into the weeping wound. Tim, on the other hand, does pass out.

It doesn't take more than an hour for you to get him all patched up. Then you help Jason get him into a guest bedroom and set him up in there after you've had Damian dose him with morphine.

Then you boss Damian into the living room to sit and doctor his hand. You'd tried to talk him into letting you do it, but you relented and settled for at least making him sit down.

You're fixing ramen noodles in the kitchen, Damian's sitting on the edge of your couch bent over his hand, and Jason is sitting stiffly in your armchair across the the coffee table.

He's been quiet for a long time. Damian obviously wasn't going to tell him anything until he decide it was a good time to pipe up, so Jason had done what he could given the situation; observe.

Your apartment was decently put together. Humble, lived it, unprepared for company. It's dim, with only a few lamps speckled through the rooms for light and the bulbs removed from the overheads.

He's most interested in Damian, though. Despite having a likely broken hand, he's more relaxed here than he is in some parts of the Manor. His body language reads comfort. He's not looking around every few minutes for any sign of danger, even though they'd all barely escaped a small angry mob ninety minutes ago.

"So," he huffs, leaning back into your chair. He spares you a glance. Your back is to them while you stir a pot. "You wanna clue me in or are we gonna keep loitering in this poor woman's home?"

You peer over your shoulder.

Damian sighs heavily.

"Your call," you chip in, digging around in a lower cabinet.

He throws a dirty look your way. "Thanks for the help."

He draws a deep breath, reclining against the back of the couch. "Firstly, all if this stays between us," he starts, gesturing to the whole apartment with his good hand. "Second, Y/N is a vampire, and if you so much as breathe disrespectfully–"

"Damian," you warn."

"–we'll have issues."

Jason blinks slowly. Clearly unimpressed. "Why do you care do much? And how'd you know she wouldn't eat Timmy alive?"

"She's my girlfriend."

He damn near falls out of the chair. "Your what?"

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

Graveyard Siblings (5)

[Masterlink] (PART 1) (PART 4)

-----

Mari and Cass sometimes switch their suits as they have the same body type. Cass would sometimes go out in full Hellbat gear and give the appearance that Hellbat is out more often than she actually is.

So Orphan/Black Bat also sometimes uses guns.

This also helps with concealing secret identities. Maria was rescued by Hellbat from Joker’s Henchmen. (Vicki Vale was getting sus of the new Wayne and Hellbat.)

Unfortunately since Hellbat rarely comes out and she had already made all of her appearance for the month and it wasn’t a busy weekend, the public had come to the conclusion that Hellbat has a crush on the newest Wayne.

Basically everyone thought that Mari has a crush on herself. Which led to some teasing and escalated to Mari announcing that Jason had a crush on Red Hood on live TV.

It didn’t help that a video of Red Hood and Jason re-enacting Romeo and Juliet with Jason on his apartment balcony and Red Hood on the roof was posted on the internet a few days later. (Thank you, Trixx and Tim’s awesome video editing skills)

Sadly, it was taken down 24 hours later. (Tim and the others have multiple copies of it, on the cloud or hardware, hidden around in the manor and their respective safehouses in the US.)

Some people kidnapped Jason to hopefully gain leverage over the Red Hood and to their dismay and nightmares for years to come, Hellbat came instead.

One lucky and incredibly brave reporter asked why she was there instead of her brother.

Mari being a little shit, “Red Hood may be a tough and scary guy but when it comes to his feelings, my brother is a chicken.”

Pictures of Jason tackling Hellbat somehow never made it into any papers.

The criminal underworld hasn’t taken a hint and Jason has been kidnapped a few more times.

Other times Jason was kidnapped:

Robin: Red Hood made a fool of himself in front of Todd recently and he doesn’t dare to show his face.

Spoiler: He was taking too damn long checking his hair even though I told him that no one was going to see it under his helmet and he was so offended that he is currently sulking in the bathroom.

Red Robin: Red Hood can’t think straight when he is around Jason. I mean have you seen the dude.

Arsenal*during a rare visit to Gotham*: Red Hood owes me one now.

Dick finally ends it by going out as Red Hood and rescuing Jason. Gotham is happy that Redson (Red Hood x Jason) ship has finally sailed.

-------

Kate, Babs, Cass, Steph and Mari were out on Mari’s first girls’ night since her move to the manor.

This is set a little after she came back from Paris with Jason.

They watched rom-com movies, did hair and nails, gossip about the superhero community and bitch and vent to each other.

Marinette off-handedly mentioned the crazy shits she had done during her stint as Ladybug. It started with asking about the T-rex in the Batcave and she mentions jumping into the mouth of a live one before.

Everyone in the room was shocked and after a few more questions, it was obvious that she was very reckless and self-sacrificing. Yep, she was going to fit into this crazy family just fine.

And Holy Shit. There is so much trauma packed into this kid. She needs lots of therapy.

Babs finally decided that they all needed to get out and have some fun. All in their respective suits and they went out.

Joined by Harley, Ivy and Selina.

Plagg came along because I want Plagg to meet Selina.

It was a chaotic night and it was a miracle that Bruce didn’t find out about what the girls did.

-------

Batman and Red Hood were on patrol together when Selina jumped in front of them.

“Hello, Boys”

“What do you want, Catwoman?”

“I want to meet my new prodigy, Kitty Noire.”

Cue Marinette jumping down from her hiding spot, transformed with the Black Cat Miraculous. “Hiya.”

Red Hood carries her like a potato sack and points his gun at the other two.

“Nope, she’s my sister and I called dibs. I adopted her. She’s off limits.”

“Legally, she’s mine.” Batman coughed out.

“I did it first. Emotionally. She’s my emotional support sister. You have plenty kids already, B and Selina, get your own.”

“Hey, I am still here and can hear you.”- Maria

-------

Alya was worried for Lila. She had been acting weirdly for the past month.

She looked very out of sorts. Her clothes weren’t in order and her hair was in disarray. She had bags under her eyes and her eyes looked wild. Lila didn’t look like herself at all.

She jumped at any sound and flinched at really sudden movements.

Alya tried to find out what was wrong with Lila and received vague answers.

One time Lila said that Marinette is to blame.

Alya reaches the somewhat right conclusion that Marinette was haunting Lila and hurting her because Lila used to come to school with bruises and claims that Marinette did it.

Alya goes to Marinette’s grave to desecrate it. (Yeah, go anger the ghost that is haunting someone.)

Unfortunately, the moment she tries to do something, the sky turns dark, clouds appear and the wind begins whipping. A Lightning strike near her and there was a cloaked figure beside her with a scythe.

All Alya saw from the figure was the blood-red lips in a very sharp grin and glowing blue eyes, raising the scythe high before she ran away. The scythe swiped the air where her head once was.

Alya didn’t get far before she tripped and blacked out.

When she woke up, she found herself in the hospital with no idea how she got there.

She was told that somebody found her with a concussion in the park and took her to the hospital.

------

The next one on Mari’s hit list was Natalie.

She wasn’t as involved in the whole thing like Lila, Adrien or Gabriel but she still did it anyways.

Her punishment is a little mild compared to the others and was more of a warning to Gabriel.

Natalie woke up in the middle of the night to see a not-so-dead Ladybug sitting on her vanity chair with the moonlight from the windows illuminating her body and her neck. Her suit was torn exactly like the day of that battle with blood dripping down her arms and from her open wounds. The shadows kept her face hidden but glowing blue eyes stared at her.

Natalie was scared at first. But she regained her normal cool composure.

“I assume you are here to extract your revenge for aiding in your unfortunate demise. But before you kill me, I regret my part in my entire thing and I apologize for everything I have done against you even though I knew it was wrong.”

“At least you show remorse over what you have done. Visiting my grave when even my parents didn’t and leaving flowers. I love those purple hyacinths by the way. Did you know that they mean sorry in the language of the flowers?”

“Why are you stalling my death? Just kill me already.”

“Madam Sancouer. You just played a minor role in my downfall compared to what Adrien and Lila Rossi did to me. And you showed more guilt over your actions than they ever did and Adrien claimed to have loved me. And like I have told the Bats, Death is too swift of a punishment.”

“Who are the bats?”

“None of your concern. You should be more concerned about yourself.”

“Lila sees the ghosts of her past and they haunt her. Adrien is in a living nightmare and has no control over his actions and is despised by everyone. What are you going to do to me?”

“Well, since you show some guilt over your actions, let me tell you a little secret. I am not dead. Not really. I mean I did die. But there was a spell in the grimoire that revived me. It took a few days to work.”

Marinette changed to her normal form. It was a little jarring to see an older Marinette Dupain-Cheng sitting on her vanity chair like it was a throne. The Ladybug suit and the wounds were gone. She looked a little familiar.

“Why are you telling me this? What was the point?” Natalie faltered as she wondered why the girl looked familiar. Marinette moved closer and her face was fully illuminated by the moonlight.

“I intend to take everything by which I mean everything from Gabriel Agreste for what he did.”

“M. Agreste just wanted his wife back. You just gave him your Miraculous, you would still have everything.”

“What difference would it make? Sure I had friends and family before but they turned out to be disappointing. I might have become a famous designer like I dreamed of and can't achieve because I died. Besides, he never said about wanting his wife to come back in his tedious monologues. For all we knew back then, he wanted them for world domination. He showed that he would end the world for them. For kwamis’ sake, he nearly started World War III, just for a pair of earring and a ring. He was willing to kill me to have her back. No wait, he did that too. If he actually read the translated grimoire or asked the Guardian or at least someone with magic for help instead or maybe used his head and made some who can heal as his champion using the Butterfly, we wouldn’t even be in this mess. Face it, Mme Sancour, your boss is a power-hungry and very controlling maniac who is also thankfully an idiot.”

“But- he- he just-. You are just a child, what do you know? M. Agreste knew what he was doing.”

“A child who had a normal life up until he tried to ruin it with his idiotic schemes and hiring Lila to do it. A child who had to fight a war on her own.”

“I am sorry you had to go through that but I doubt you and your little revenge rampage is going to solve anything.”

Ghostly Chains wrapped around Natalie’s body, squeezing tight like it was squeezing the life out of her.

“I was all for sparing you, you know. If you had actually listened to my side of the story, you would have spared from my ‘little revenge rampage’. This is going to be a little painful. Sorry about that.” In a tone that was definitely not sorry.

Pain coursed through Natalie’s body. Her skin crawled and itched as pitch back feathers grew out of it. Her bones turned to dust and reformed.

Where Natalie Sancour once was, there was a raven.

An omen of death and destruction for one Gabriel Agreste.

Marinette leaned down towards the raven. Natalie tried to peck her eye out but Marinette held the beak in a firm grip.

“Ah. ah ah. Luckily for you this is temporary. Mostly. Every night, you will assume this shape and each night the longer you will stay in this form. Slowly counting down the days until Gabriel’s downfall. Since you love helping him so much, you are going to help him know how long he has to live. The night you are a raven from sunset to sunrise, that sunrise starts the day Gabriel Agreste will be utterly destroyed.”

She released the beak and headed towards the window.

"Send him my regards."

With that, she was gone.

(Part 6)

[scandalsavagefanfic]

Hello! I am a huge fan of ur writing. I've loved everything I've read of yours. I've read alot of what you've posted, except for a couple of the tags that are squicky for me (so I'm very thankful you tag very thoroughly). No judgement for the squick, it's just not for me. & when I'm having a bad day, I usually just go thru ur ao3 and find something to reread. I think about Therapy's Bruce & Jason every damn day. While I obvs appreciate ur darker more "problematic" content (I really vibe with some of the themes you write about bc of my own trauma, & so it's very cathartic to read about in a fictional setting), I am truly a sucker for ur more happy content. The Happily Ever After verse also lives in my head rent free. Idk more wholesome stuff just seems more special when you write it. Anyways. I would die for you. But the point of this ask is cause I'm curious as to why you don't like Urban Legends? I'm sorry if you already talked about it here or on twitter and I missed it. I was just wondering because I really enjoy your take on things and would love to hear why you dislike it. I've been enjoying it so far personally, but I am always open to DC comics criticism.

Aw thank you so much! I'm so flattered by everything you just said. You're so sweet ❤❤❤❤❤

I haven't talked about Urban Legends here or twitter (I haven't been very active in either place lately. Just a lot going on and no energy 😔) but I'm happy to do it here.

Before I start though, I just want to add a standard disclaimer and make it clear that if you like it, there's nothing wrong with that and you don't have to let me ruin it for you lol. Like what you like.

That said, since you asked...

I said this when I was talking about it on discord, that there is a difference between hope and expectation. I always hope that a new story centered on Jason (or anyone really, but things have been especially egregious for Jay for 15 years) will be good or at least treat the character with a minimal level of respect (to be honest, the bar is super fucking low). But my expectations always temper my hope, to keep it from getting unrealistic. Because my expectations are based on experience.

The long history of Jason Todd, since even before his resurrection, has been one of retroactively trying to make him "a bad seed" in order to absolve Bruce of any responsibility in his death.

I don't even expect DC or their writers to start honoring the fact that Jason was not an angry, reckless Robin (and less of the later than Dick or Tim and definitely Damian). There plenty of ways that retcon can be folded into his history and be compelling and sympathetic. And if they're going to stick with that retcon, I'm only asking that they do it in one of those compelling and sympathetic ways because Jason was 15 when he died, heroically, in one of the most selfless acts in comics, to save a woman who literally handed him over to be brutally murdered. He was 12 when Bruce plucked him off the streets, he'd been homeless and fending for himself for at least two years. I personally think that Jason's story hits harder for him and Bruce if their original, canon relationship, of Jason as starry-eyed and eager to learn and absolutely devoted to Bruce and Bruce to Jason, is preserved. But Jason's origins does leave room for a meaningful interpretation of him as angry and frustrated at the lack of meaningful results of Bruce's methods.

And that's really where my irritation at stories like Batman: Urban Legends, Cheer and Batman The Adventure Continues has it's roots.

Every time one of these stories comes out, I think (or hope, rather) that this will be the one that remembers and respects the origins of the Jason and the Red Hood, that takes into account the changed sensibilities of comics readers in the 30 years since Jason's death and the subtle, 20 year, retroactive campaign to make him the "bad Robin". The "born bad" trope is played out and literally no one likes the message it implies. That some kids are just bad eggs and there's nothing parents or the adults around them can do. Especially when it's played as the kid's fault. If Jason's time as Robin is going to be characterized by anger, then it should be rooted in anger at the social injustices he witnessed as he grew up in an impoverished, crime-ridden, area and the horrors he faced raising himself when every day was a battle for survival. There are topical, meaningful, stories to tell with that backdrop.

But those are never the stories we get.

⚠⚠ Spoilers for Batman: Urban Legends, Cheer ⚠⚠

I'm particularly disappointed in Urban Legends because for the first issue, it looked like that was the kind of story we were going to get. I was put off by the first flashback of Jason being mesmerized by Bruce's guns, and I got that feeling in my gut that it was a bad sign. Jason depicted as impatient and overconfident and the scene with the guns is heavy-handed foreshadowing that got my spidey-sense tingling. I had a inkling then (in the first three pages) of how this story was going to play out, but it was early and I could still see many narrative paths that could lead to a satisfying story. My concerns were soothed somewhat and the little flame of my hope fanned, with the flashback of Alfred scolding Bruce, with Barbara's concern for Jason. A bit of worry returned with the way Jason ruthlessly pursued an addict who didn't appear to be a dealer and with the ending of the issue. The stuff with the addict sat wrong with me but the ending was tempered some by how despicable Tyler's dad was written. The scene was clearly set so that the reader could sympathize with Jason's decision and the scene with the addict could be brushed aside as a side-effect of comics over-the-top need for constant action, so I still held hope.

Issue 2 made me uncomfortable and it's where my hope starts to take a backseat to my expectations. I can dismiss Jason's self-deprecating internal monologue as unreliable narration, except that the flashback reinforces his thought process to explicitly show that it's not unreliable narration, and should be taken at face value. Jason faces physical abuse at the hands of his mother's drug dealer and when the flashback continues later, Jason kills the drug dealer. To be clear, this is a pre-Bruce Jason. His mom is still alive. He's like... 10. He kills this guy for shoving his head into a wall and implying Jason's mother paid for her drugs with sex. This is a scene that serves a single purpose. To show that Jason has always been prone to violence.

In the spirit of full disclosure, there is the small chance the drug dealer might not be dead. But the story obviously wants the reader to think he is, and it hasn't done anything to change that yet.

Starlin already did this story with The Diplomat’s Son in 1988 and he did it infinitely better. AND that’s still technically canon. So now I’m supposed to believe that Jason lost his cool bad enough to kill two douche bags before his sweet 16? Like it’s totally normal for abused kids raised in poverty, who’ve led hard and heartbreaking lives to just... haul off and kill people? That’s bullshit, and when taken with the Jason in the third issue, who is little more than an idiot thug, this story is really doubling down on some fucked up stereotypes.

Which brings us to the most recent issue. I went into this installment with very low expectations. I thought this story was going to be about Jason, through this experience with Tyler, a young boy with a similar background to Jason's, coming to the realization that Bruce's way is the best way and that Bruce did his best by Jason.

That would be annoying (in no small part because it takes increasingly absurd levels of plot armor to keep Bruce's no kill rule relevant, let alone irrefutably right). But I can probably live with that, if only because maybe if Jason officially falls back into line with the Bats crusade, maybe I'll get stories that treat him with respect, stories that don't relegate him to comic relief, dumb brute, or a background body with no lines in a story about the Joker burning Gotham (like Jason would just fucking stand there quietly for that).

And that may still be where the story is going, Jason realizing Bruce is right.

But holy shit do I not have the right words to describe how fucking insulting and gross issue three is.

From start to finish--including the flashback--Jason is written as cruel and fucking stupid. Like straight up dumb.

The entire issue is Bruce explaining the fucking basics to Jason like it's his first day. And Jason flies off the fucking handle and terrorizes a doctor he knows isn't a part of making the Cheerdrops, beats the shit out of some random addicts, and finally, when he can't accomplish anything on his own because he's a dumb brute he calls Barbara for help and rushes in with no information where he's promptly incapacitated and must now wait to be rescued by Batman.

This panel is the least of the issues sins but I can’t screenshot the entire story but it’s representative of the tone for the whole issue (and retroactively tainted the prior two issues).

This is beyond insulting. The only conclusions Jason comes to in this issue are the ones Bruce leads him to by talking to him like he can’t make the simplest connections. And like... in this story Jason can’t make the simplest connections.

This (and the Jason throughout the entirety of this issue) is a far cry from the Jason we fell in love with in Under the Red Hood, who was competent and strategic and intelligent enough to seize control of Gotham’s underworld from Black Mask (who’s no fucking slouch, he’s the first and only person to unify organized crime in Gotham) AND elude and manipulate Bruce until the time and place of his choosing.

This is a far cry from even the Red Hood and the Outlaws Jason who is competent enough to fight the League of Shadows and Ra’s al Ghul (among very dangerous and skilled others) and smart enough to create antidotes for mind control nanotech viruses.

As he should be, by the way. Jason Todd is one of the best, most comprehensively trained fighters in DC’s stable of non powered vigilantes. He’s not irrational or hot headed. He’s pragmatic, tactically minded, and patient. He’s a detective. Right now. Has been since he was 12. Bruce doesn’t have to make him one because he already is. 

Jason is not a stupid thug who uses his fists because his brain doesn’t work. And I can’t tell you how so very exhausted I am by this narrative. 

This is actually the most egregious example of Jason’s skills and intelligence being not just undermined but dismissed entirely. Even Morrison’s Jason had some degree of competency. 

The one, single redeeming factor of this story is the art. It’s beautiful. And Marcus To is a godsend he seems to be one of only a couple of artists who remember that Jason was a child when he was Robin and I’m literally only buying this book because of him. 

Anyway, I’m sorry. I didn’t want that to come out so... um... passionately lol. I’m just very very tired. My intention with this isn’t to ruin it for you, if you like it, that’s fine. 

But this issue shot this story to the top of my "Vehemently Despise” list. 1) Batman: Urban Legends (Cheer), 2) Battle for the Cowl/Morrison’s Batman and Robin, 3) Batman The Adventure Continues.

I hope the next issues somehow salvage this dumpster fire. But I’m not expecting it.

(Damnit. That sounded harsh again. To reiterate, I’m not trying to judge anyone who enjoys it, I just personally hate it and you asked me why lol 😅)

[phantomchick]

Well dang, what was so bad about Robins then? I've only seen people roasting it lol

Oh man, I really don't know where to start, it's just.. full of poor or straight up bad characterisation imo and the way it treats the concept of Robins is itself really not fun.

Like it starts off with the premise of deciding once and for all whether or not they should've been made Robins 'sidekicks to batman' and whether or not that was a good thing or not and right away you've got problems. Dick Grayson never once saw himself as Bruce's sidekick but as his PARTNER in crime fighting and while that may have been less true for a few of the others who Bruce had more uneven relationships yet it still stands that the basis of Robin is its own role just like Batgirl or Oracle and the fact that goes unacknowledged entirely irritates from the get go.

The comic treats the whole concept like it's a child soldier internship and like one sentence in I knew it was going to be terrible because DC's takes on the robin concept of late have been stale as fuck and totally seem to be forgetting the fact that superhero comics are wish fulfilment fantasies at their core and younger heroes are ways for younger readers to feel agency to make a difference vicariously and that's before you get into the nitty gritty of how Robin is tied to Gotham City and to each of the kids who wore the mantle and made it their own. Like I took one look at that panel and voted for Green Lanterns on twitter instead because fuck but I knew this was gonna be bad.

And like Seeley's Dick Grayson characterisation has always been terrible, he's well known for "having constantly over-sexualized and objectified Dick" for one thing and that's without the downplaying of his detective skills from time to time but this:

is genuinely so much worse than usual. Like what the fuck!

And then there's the way that Jason is just compleeeeetely characterised as the violent one, the bad one, the aggressive one, he literally, like I think it was @thattimdrakeguy who said it, but He can’t even get their origin stories right. Which for this specific project should’ve been the first thing researched.

Jason calls his past self a crook! While angrily destroying a nut on the table because intimidating aggressive body language in casual out of cape settings is totally a thing he does, not. The comic insists that if Bruce hadn't made him Robin he'd probably have kept on being a criminal and become a kingpin villain by now instead of a hero. Which for anyone who knows anything about Jason Todd is bullshit. It's bullshit, this whole comic is bullshit.

I could go on about each of the Robins (like Damian! "Born to be Robin" what the fuck?!) and how wrong he gets them individually and as a collective but I refuse to give it more of my energy so I'll reblog other and better breakdowns of it instead.

Hope my visceral frustration with this entire comic doesn't upset you and that this answers your question coherently.

[nevermore-the-kitsune]

Pokemon Teams for Fictional Characters pt. 2

Damian Wayne

(Also, I'm not including move sets because in my headcannon Pokemon do remember all their old moves. But humans choose to only use four)

For this AU I'm having the Wayne's own the Gotham City Gym, which specializes in Dark types. Most of the cannon events still happened. Just with a few tweaks here and there. (Dick's 20, Jason's 16, Cass is 15 Tim's 15 but younger than Cass and Damian's 13 because I love AUs where there closer in age).

Anyway here we go!

First things first in the Pokemon Universe his alias wouldn't be Robin since they don't exist. Instead I think it would be Rookidee, since thats the closest Pokemon to a Robin.

His Partner Pokemon and ace would be a Gligar

Name: Goliath

Gender: Male

Why: Gligar screams Goliath (his Batdragon) plus the coloring of his evolutions matches with Dami's Robin and Batman outfits

Story: He found Goliath while climbing a mountain for his training. At the time he was four and Goliath was a hatching. Damian ended up giving him some food, seeing that the hatching was hungry.

Grateful, the Gligar followed him hoping to return the favor.

When Damian's hand got broken on that same trip, Goliath was the one to help him finish his mission and get home safely.

Talia was impressed that Damian could tame a wild Pokemon without catching it, so she allowed him to keep him as his first Pokemon.

-----

Next he would have a Meowth

Name: Alfred

Gender: Female

Why: This one has to do with its evolution. Persian are said to only be loyal to trainers it likes and that it takes a lot to get them to like you. Their also said to be prissy and uptight. This reminded me of Damian. How it took forever for him to trust his brothers and his own snobby attitude. Thus I think it fits.

Story: After coming to live with his father Damian didn't know how to act. He saw his "brothers" and father treating their Pokemon so different than how the League did. They all trained hard. But, there was something eles: warm praise for a job well done, asking for insight on a case (they had taught their bipedal pokemon sighn language) and comfort on a bad day. His father and brothers treated their Pokemon like... people

In the League Pokemon where the lowest soldier, lower than the slaves or concubines. They trained, ate then they had to and got in their ball.

He had been a little more lenient in his training with Goliath. When asked he said that he was still a baby and he had to take things slow in this stage or he might develop too much muscle mass and be unable to fly.

He had kept him out of his ball with the excuse of developing muscle mass at a proper pace.

He liked Goliath's company. The Gligar was a good companion. But on the same level as another person?

He had expressed these thoughts to Pennyworth, the only person in the house to give him a straight answer when he needed it.

Pennyworth had explained to him that some people love to hold power over others and that Pokemon where an easy target, since they couldn't communicate their emotions as clearly as people could.

"Think of Mistress Cain. She sometimes cannot communicate with words, but we know that she's intelligent. But some people see her as less than intelligent and treat her as such because of the power it gives them."

Two weeks later Damian would come across a group of teenagers attempting to shave a Meowth. The Pokemon was little more than skin and bone and crying out on pain. So, Damian broke their fingers and shaved part of their heads for good measure.

He kept the Meowth and named her after the man who taught him about the abuse of power.

---

Next, a Poochyena

Name: Titus

Gender: Male

Why: These Pokemon and their evolution are ruthless with their pray, and only obey trainers with external skill.

Story: Raven gave Damian Titus as a gift. She said that she rescued him from an underground fighting ring (where the battles are to the death). He was still to young to battle so he didn't need much rehabilitation. The other Pokemon there though...

---

Now we have a Type Null

Name: Heretic

Gender: ???

Why: This Pokemon was created in lab, and artificial designed for the purpose of fighting, just like Damian. True I could have given him Mewtwo, but that cat seems to fit Kon more.

Story: Damian's mother had spent years creating Type: Null with the purpose of being able to kill any target. As a last test she wanted to see which of her creations was suppirrior. So she sent the Type Null out to (try and) kill her son.

Damian, with the rest of his team, beat the Pokemon but couldn't kill it. He had long since vowed to wash the blood from his hands. Instead he offered his hand to it and asked it to join him.

---

Here we have the hardest to explain... Mimikyu

Name: Habibi (I hope I spelled that right)

Gender: Female

Why: Damian is complex, he wants to be accepted and loved just like Mimikyu but dosent know how. Both try to mimic others in order to get that love, Damian his father and Mimikyu Pikachu. So I see this as Damian's spirit Pokemon in a way.

Story: He didn't know why it was so hard to fit in. Gods know he tried. But... little things confused him. Like how eveyone could understand each other without words or singhing. He had no problems with that on a battlefield, but in day to day life; it felt like he was on a separate server.

Like how Todd knew at breakfast with just a look that Drake was in a bad mood and how to help. Or how Grayson could audomadicly tell what kind of day at school the rest of them had withen a few minutes. Hell even Drake could tell what grunts ment what from father! Which ment good job, Which ment I'm glade your okay, or frustration either at them or at a case (Cass didn't surprise him, she had to learn how to communicate without words and watch body language and micro expressions).

School was no better; sometimes it was to load or bright othertimes, when everyone was doing a test, it felt to quiet. But, to much or to little, Damian was always aware of every movement, every sound. It was like the very instincts that saved his life every night where turned against him.

He turned to his nearly forgotten childhood habits to distract himself from everything around him. That only led to more whisper shouting and what even he could tell where displeased glares with a grunt of "fucking tapping" or a snap of "stop!" He knew it was disrupting but it was all be could do to drown out the noise or silence.

On one particularly bad day at school; apparently during one of their tests one of his classmates had had enough of Damian's tapping and decided to make a scene.

There was some yelling from the kid. A few cries in agreement. Before the teacher had gotten hem to settle down. He had demanded that Damian look him in the eye and when he finally did told him to stop with the tapping or else he would be sent to the office, Gym Leaders son or not.

He was the last to finish that test where he normally finished first. The silence had been to load!!

After that clusterfuck Damian finally headed home. He had texted Grayson saying that he was meeting a friend somewhere to work on a project and to not pick him up. In truth he didn't want his brother reading what kind of day he had had. He needed some time to himself.

That was how he found himself in a nearby park. It was filled with plenty of sounds that didn't suffocate him and the fall leaves where soothing to his eyes. Damian had Titus out of his ball as company, knowing that the pup loved park walks.

They had been walking for an hour when they came across a box set off just on the edge of the trail. "Free to Good Homes" was written on the side in black sharpie.

No sound was coming from inside, so he assumed that the had all been taken. Until Titus went closer sniffing at the seemingly empty box.

"Pooch Pooch"

"Hmmm... what is is it boy?" He asked as he walked closer to his Pokemon and the Box. Damian hoped he was wrong. It was cruel to leave a baby Pokemon all alone, especially since the weather was getting colder by the day.

Inside the box was in fact a lone Pokemon. At first glance it looked like a Pikachu. But something was off. It looked more like a doll than a living creature. If it wasn't for the small chirps it let out and slight way that it was shivering from the cold Damian would have written it off as a toy. No wonder it got left behind...

Damian reached down and picked up the mystery Pokemon as gently as he could.

"Come on beloved, lets go home."

He tucked the Pokemon in his jacket to warm it up before reaching for his phone to call Grayson for a ride home.

That night Damian locked himself away, even skipped patrol, and spent a sleepless night learning everything he could about his newest Pokemon.

---

That was inspired by this comic

---

Finaly, for his last spot Eevee!!

Name: Omni

Gender: Female

Why: I'm going to have all the Batfam members have an Eeveelution. This branch and the Batfam are both growing consistently. We all have our favorites but we love them all the same. So I think it fits.

Story: Everyone in the family had an Eevee or one of its evolutions. Damian's Father said that Eevee was the Wayne family symbol, it was potential, the ability to become whatever you wanted.

Though it surprised Damian that the Wayne symbol wasn't a Noibat or Noivern (Batman's ace) at first he eventually understood the logic in choosing such a Pokemon to represent the family name. That only made things harder for him being the only one not having one. Did they not truly see him as family?

On the one year anniversary of Damian arriving at The Mannor, his family through a small party. Pennyworth made his favorite foods, The Mannor was decorated in tacky streamers (Graysons' idea) and they watched some of Damian's favorite fims, their Pokemon curled up with them. His father had offered to take the day off from the gym. Until Todd suggested that Damian take on the challengers.

The Gotham gym was part of his heritage. Damian had been training for the day that he could finally help weed out the weak challengers just like his siblings sometimes did (think the battles you do before challenging a gym leader in the games).

On that day, if the challengers agreed to it, their final battle wasn't with Bruce Wayne the Dark Knight but instead his son. Most accepted thinking that it would be an easy win, that they had lucked out in not having to battle one of the stongest Gym Leaders in the League and could still get the Shadow Badge.

Those poor fools.

Damian was only allowed to use Alfred, Titus and Habibi since he used Goliath and Heretic primarily as Rookidee.

Damian fought seven trainers that day in 3v3 fights. Only two of them got the badge.

With the day overwith and the night rising, so did Gothams' protecters.

The night ended with exhausted body's and adrenaline crashes. Damian was ready to slip into a mini coma from the day he had but before he could head upstairs to The Mannor...

"Not so fast baby bat." Graysons' voice called out to him. "We got one more surprise for you."

Damian raised his eyebrow at that. What else could they do? His father came back from the locker rooms where he had been desuiting, it always took him the longest because of his "old man bones" as Todd said.

"Son," his father said "its Wayne tradition to get your first Pokemon when you turn ten years old. I missed that with you." He paused, eyes briefly shifting to the floor before they snapped back on Damian's face. "Luckily there's one tradition we didn't miss. When you've lived at The Mannor for a year or the adoption papers get finalized, I give my children this..."

He pulled a Poke'ball out of his poket and handed to Damian. "Go on son, let them out."

He did

Staring at him was his own Eevee.

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AN: All of Damian's Pokemon (sans maybe Omni, I'm thinking of leaving her as an Eevee) will eventually evolve. Eventually.