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onelastbreath-writes · 4 years

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On Bruce And Texting:

Author’s Note: Hello and welcome, this is my first properly written fic, originally posted to my AO3, and now that I have finally created a writing blog, it’s here as well. Please enjoy!! AO3. Masterlist

Warnings: Hopefully none, its all cute and fluff <3

Summary: Bruce Wayne texts like he's sending correspondences to the Queen, so of course the little monsters he calls children just have to make fun of him! Brats, the lot of them, but he wouldn't have them any other way.

Features: Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle, all the bats and birds, mentions JL, no crime fighting, only family fluff, jokes and nods to Millennial and GenZ shenanigans.

Word Count: 2.7k

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Billionaire, genius, tech expert, father of many children, and all around up-to-date-with-just-about-everything type of person he may be, it is also a well-known Fact that Bruce Wayne, the Batman(TM) himself, can’t text to save his life.

Whether it’s due to his Very Proper English Upbringing, his inability to be informal via written correspondences of any type, his indifference, or the fact that it bothers his children so much, Bruce Wayne has not and never will text with anything less than perfect grammar, spelling, and formality. If he has not sent you a proper letter (featuring a dedication, indentation for every paragraph, signature, and post-script when applicable), he did, in fact, not send you that text. Informality is not his Batman Way(TM) according to his children... he’s not too sure what that even means, but it makes his young ones laugh so it’s probably fine?

His oldest children (Richard and Jason) were raised in the time of Change, where computers, internet access, social media, and all things similar were only just being introduced into households en-masse. They were young enough to remember a time without such devices and connectivity (both for very different reasons, of course, but they grew up without the newest technology none-the-less). They could understand his relationship to the digital environment more so than his younger children, but they still tended to poke fun at his ‘texting blunders’ regularly. All his kids somehow ended up as brats. He doesn’t know how this happened. It’s certainly not his fault. He blames the League members, and especially Clark Kent, for their defiant personalities.

His younger children, whom he loves dearly, like to confuse him as much as they possibly can with their slang, egregious spelling errors, and all-around ‘internet humour’. He doesn’t know what ‘wig’ or ‘worm’ or ‘oof’ or anything means. He has no idea what those dances are, or how they relate to the music that seems to always accompany them, and for the love of all that is good, don’t ask him what he thinks of this or that ‘meme’. What even is a ‘meme’, and should he be more concerned about his kids being obsessed with them? He tries, oh my god, does he try to follow the children’s conversations, but they somehow all learned a language he has no idea how to decrypt. His best response to them once they start speaking in tongues is as follows: smile but not too much, listen to child even though he is deeply confused, and pat child on head or shoulder when they are finished and are looking for assurance.

He refuses to be a parent who ignores or tunes out his children, so he always makes sure to put down his work, his crossword, his tools, or whatever else is in his hands when a child searches him out for a conversation. But somehow, despite all the time he spends around them and their strange words, when he gets text from them comprised of abbreviations, acronyms, and completely random words, he goes a little cross eyed. He would never tell anyone, but he keeps a running list on his phone about the things they say that he has had to translate in the past. Spilling tea? Speaking the truth, usually to do with gossip. Wow? Multiple possible meanings: either a video game, or someone saying it (different pronunciation depending on context and who sent the text). Stickbug? A nice little prank with no ulterior motives, just for fun. Something along the lines of “this basic bitch Karen at the grocery store who is a dirty rat-licker and is def an anti-vaxxer just took 45 (forty-five) minutes to decide she didn’t actually want that almond milk. I Stan the cashier who had to put up with her. Rad af dude.” roughly translates to “A rude, middle-aged white woman who wasn’t wearing a mask and doesn’t believe in disease control or vaccinating her children wasted a great deal of an essential worker’s time in the checkout line. The cashier was very professional in their dealings with said customer and should be commended on their actions.”

Given enough time, the internet for searching up new slang words, and occasionally some help from a friend (Alfred, Selina, Lucius, another of his children, etc), Bruce could decode and respond appropriately to most texts. He was quite proud of these achievements, and although he didn’t always like how often his children were on their phones or computers or gaming systems, he was quite proud of how integrated and easily they adapted to the ever-evolving world of electronics. All his kids were gifted in many ways, but their ability to learn, their hunger for knowledge, and their perseverance when exploring new and challenging ideas were always the things that he was most impressed by.

He could do without their comments though. Yes, surprisingly, he did manage to get girlfriends with his type of texting. No, he doesn’t miss the ‘good old days’ when telegraphs were the main form of long-distance correspondence (how old do these brats think he is?!). And yes, he does know what a “tweet” is, and how to “post” on his social media accounts, and what “sliding into your DMs” is (thanks to a frantic search after a WE employee mentioned it near him). The Wayne children, truly whom and what Bruce considers his pride and joy, are cruel little jerks to him sometimes. His hoard of parenting books fails to mention what one should do when their children gang up on them. Bullying is covered of course, but he can’t really talk to a teacher or his guardian about how his second son calls him an idiot sandwich, or that his third son regularly tries to get him to do something “For The Vine”. His oldest and youngest boys are only slightly better in the bullying him department; Richard and his puppy dog eyes when he wants to do something dangerous or not-Alfred-approved, and Damian and his growing collection of pets because “Mother never let me have them, and I am deprived, and don’t you love me Father?”.

His only good child is his beautiful daughter Cassandra, the flower of the Wayne clan. She gives him hugs, and pats his hands, and can sit with him and just enjoy the quiet and stillness when his other children are not around. Her language skills are improving by leaps and bounds every day, and her heart and spirit are unparalleled, but her main method of communication is in her movements. Her hands, her posture, her dancing; Bruce couldn’t think of a more graceful, fluid, powerful person if the world depended on it. His amazing little girl doesn't bully him (and if she ever does, he probably deserves it, he trusts her), so he turns to her most of all when it comes to communicating with someone else. She doesn’t let him send anything that is “sketchy” or “wrong words, bad meaning, Dad”. He would give the world to his children, but for Cassandra, he would destroy it and build her an entirely new one.

Social media, especially with his terrible children all having accounts dedicated to making him look like a simpleton, was another rocky terrain he had to navigate on the regular. He had professionals in place at WE to run the company’s many accounts, paid top dollar to help appeal and relate to the masses, but he mostly had to manage his personal accounts himself. And so, @TheRealBruceWayne was one of the greatest struggles in his adult life. Why can’t he just retweet every post from @WE_Offical and leave it at that? People should only want to know about what’s new with the company. What do you mean they want to know more about our family and private lives? That’s unnecessary, and not important to the running of the company, right? Right? Why are you laughing?!

Luckily, most people in his life aren’t so intimately aware of his struggles. He can act and lie all he wants about being “hip” and “woke” and whatever else the kids are saying these days when he’s with the JL or in board meeting intermissions, networking with his associates. The Batman knows all and sees all, Green Lantern, of course he understands how “Tiktok” works. The Batman is a robot without a funny bone in his body, Green Arrow, but I did witness him sigh and say “same” when he knocked his cup of coffee over while on monitor duty once. No matter how badly his darling children call him out, the Justice League would be so much worse. So, it’s one of his most importantly guarded secrets... even more so than his secret identity at this point. Being unmasked in front of every Gotham rogue would be less detrimental to him than his “friends” learning of his utter ineptitude in staying on top of the younger generations’ lingo.

When questioned why the League doesn’t have a group chat or a forum or anything that they can use to contact each other outside of world ending matters and communicator (”because we’re friends, Batman! Ma and Pa Kent would love to have everyone over for a barbecue!”), the person who dared even mention texting isn’t even given a verbal response. They are just glared at, silently, often for several uninterrupted minutes, frozen in place only able to breathe shallowly in fear of setting off the Bat. “You know why” his glare says, “I’ll eat you, your family, and everything you have ever held dear” the younger members hear. No one makes the mistake of asking about it twice.

Outside of his children and Alfred, and his small circle of true friends involved in all aspects of his life, there is only one more person Bruce allows to know of his Darkest Secret. Selina. Someone most people would recommend he not be involved with. Catwoman: accomplished thief, distraction, chaos-incarnate most nights, and his significant other. Sharp as a whip (ha) and crafty like no one’s business; he is head-over-heels. On again/Off again and all over the place their long romance has been, but no one has ever challenged him, intrigued him, like this clever, beautiful, amazing woman has. He’s brought his partners around his children before, both for their judgement, and for their worst behaviours to vet out any “unworthy” suitors. He trusts them explicitly to tell him the truth about those he allows into the manor; were they rude about Bruce wanting to have group outings, did they say something about Bruce’s money, did they get angry or shout or make anyone uncomfortable while they were here? If his children even looked slightly unhappy with someone he brought them to meet, that person would not be invited back. Children, he finds, have the best sight when meeting people; no motives other than finding safety and love, no fear of consequences from speaking honestly...

Selina, or Catwoman, as they had known her first, was someone all of his kids liked without issue right off the bat. She would make puns and play word games with Richard, his first Robin, tiny, still working on his English, able to connect with him over their acrobatic abilities. His second Robin, Jason, skittish and feisty as an alley cat, knew of Catwoman and her daring escapades long before Bruce found him. The young boy had a few heroes, and no one (not even Wonder Woman) could compare to the incredible burglar who bought food and jackets and medicine for the street kids in Crime Alley. She was saintly in his eyes, and to this day, Bruce was still working on convincing Jason he was good enough for Selina. Tim and Cass and Stephanie (basically another daughter to Bruce, she spends so much time with the family) all joined the Wayne clan around the same time and officially met Selina as a friend and partner of his, and in the good graces of his first two sons. Selina, in all her nightly business, and many travels and acquaintances, had met the three independently, helping Tim get home safely back to Drake Manor when he escaped to photograph Batman and Robin in the dank darkness of Gotham when he was just a young boy, spending some time with Cassandra when her despicable father left her alone long enough to recover from his rough treatment, showing her the first scraps of kindness in her short life, and watching over and protecting Stephanie as she followed and sabotaged her father Cluemaster and his criminal activities. There was no need to win them over once they met her civilian identity, she had already gained their favour and acceptance, and they were happy to have her near their new family. Damian, his youngest, his biological son, took the longest to warm up to Selina. He would never fault his little boy for fighting so hard against a woman that was not his birth mother, especially after all the manipulation and cruelty dealt to him by Talia for the first decade of his life. But as he began to learn about his father, these people in his father’s life, and this woman that was Not His Mother but “still okay, I guess”, he grew to see her as acceptable. Her cats definitely helped, he’d say, no one with cats that loyal and happy can be a bad person.

Selina, the love of his life, he’d admit quietly to himself, was also a dirty traitor and in cahoots with his terrible children. She would say his texting skills were “sweet” and “very gentlemanly” when she was asked by anyone outside the family, and privately to him she would say she thought they were “adorable” and “please don’t ever change, Bruce, I like it.” However, nothing seemed to bring her more joy than his children sending her texts and “Snaps” and “memes” about him to her. Sometimes it was screenshots of the family group chat that they forced him to join, where he would post “To whom it may concern...” and “In regards to...” when he needed to reach all his delinquents in a timely manner. Sometimes it was video clips of him staring at his phone intently, then typing something on his laptop, then him reading and nodding along, and then finally going back and responding to the text he received with a small, pleased smile. And sometimes, when he got too injured or was too incapacitated to text coherently, he’d have his nearest able child transcribe his text to her. Depending on who was texting her for Bruce, she could expect many different things. From Dick, she’d get lots of shorthand and silly emojis, and many, many, winky and crying/laughing faces in brackets depending on what Bruce had made him type. Jason, bless him, used proper English most of the time, but would never write a single word of Bruce’s soliloquy to her, instead she enjoyed the TL;DR version: “hurt again, missing you, come home soon, blah blah blah, sappy gross words here, love you”. Tim would allow speech recognition to run on Bruce’s phone, and just let it go until the man passed out. Stephanie, the little chaos child, would film it and send it to her, including all her muffled laughter and shaky camera shots of Bruce emoting with his available undamaged limbs. Cass, still more versed in physicality and emotive movement, would interpret Bruce’s text into mostly emojis, hearts and happy faces and animals, but would include photos, and phrases that she found important enough to type out for Selina. Damian, forever his Father’s son in any way possible, texts very formally, referring to her or his siblings Bruce mentions by last name only, and lots of “Father requests me to tell you...” and “Kyle, know that Father...”. She adores these kids, and once Bruce recovers enough to text her himself, or she gets back to the Manor, they get to laugh about whatever she was sent this time.

So, while it’s true that Bruce couldn’t text his way out of a wet paper bag, and his kids are sometimes brats about it, there’s probably a lot of different reasons he doesn’t spend too much time trying to improve his skills. Whether it’s the smiles of his children, the giggles of his significant other, or the warm feeling in his chest when he sees all his important people bonding over him, well, in the end, who’s to say?

#batman #batfam #bruce/selina #batcat #bruce wayne #selina kyle #bruce x selina

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Batman ’89: What Happened Next in the Burtonverse After Batman Returns

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This Batman article contains spoilers.

Tim Burton’s original vision for Gotham City and the Dark Knight are returning to the forefront of the DC Universe in more ways than one this year. Not only is Michael Keaton back in the cape and cowl for The Flash movie, which is currently filming in the UK for a late 2022 release, but DC is also releasing a sequel comic to Batman ’89 this week. No, this isn’t Batman Returns but a brand new continuation of the Burtonverse from Batman ’89‘s original screenwriter Sam Hamm and artist Joe Quinones that “pulls on a number of threads left dangling” by Burton, all while recreating the singular look and feel of the movies, down to Keaton’s iconic Batsuit and Batmobile as well as all of the cool gadgets and Gothic architecture.

This six-issue miniseries is a big deal — not just for fans of the Burtonverse and Keaton but for the creators themselves. You may already know the story of how “Batman II” eventually became the divisive Batman Returns: after delivering a box office smash, Burton and Hamm were quickly tapped to make a sequel, but the filmmakers disagreed on the direction the next movie should take, leading to the director replacing Hamm with Daniel Waters (Heathers), who churned out something much darker and sans Robin, the Boy Wonder. With the Batman ’89 comic, Hamm gets to finally deliver his own take on what happened next.

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As for Quinones, this comic wouldn’t exist without his designs for the book, which he originally pitched to DC in 2015 with writer Kate Leth. Revealed on his blog in 2016 were designs for Harvey Dent’s transformation into Two-Face, the debut of Batgirl and Marlon Wayans’ Robin (finally!), and even the return of Catwoman — all of which will finally come to pass in the new miniseries, according to DC Comics.

But how are all of these big moments set up in the comic? Batman ’89 #1, out this week, begins to set the stage for an interesting new future for the Burtonverse. Spoilers ahead…

Batman ’89 picks up after both Burton movies, effectively the director’s “Batman III” if such a wonderful thing existed. After the Joker’s death and Penguin’s demise, things in Gotham City are worse than ever, as the Dark Knight’s crusade seems only to lead to more crime. We’re treated to chaos on the streets from the opening panels of the book, which are set on Halloween night, as the remnants of the Joker Gang and Penguin’s Red Triangle Gang loot stores, mug citizens, and attempt to hijack two armored cars full of cash with a cargo helicopter. In fact, it’s after the Caped Crusader thwarts the Joker Gang’s helicopter, sending it crashing into a building, and leaving several citizens dead or critically injured and millions of dollars in damages, that Gotham DA Harvey Dent decides he’s had enough.

Meant to evoke the endless charm and swagger of Billy Dee Williams, who played the character in the first movie but didn’t return for the sequel, Dent is finally given the spotlight he deserved decades ago. In Batman ’89, he’s a man on his own crusade.

After Dent watching the destruction and chaos of the opening panels from the streets after a romantic dinner with GCPD Sergeant Barbara Gordon, whom he’s just proposed to (!), he decides it’s actually the Batman’s reign of terror that needs to be stopped. Dent thinks it’s a vigilante operating outside of the law that has bred even more crime and death in his city. Although Batman swore to protect Gotham in his letter to Dent at the end of the first movie, the violence that’s erupted in his wake has left the city under siege, forcing the National Guard to come in to patrol the streets. A curfew has been put in place, while the soldiers hunt down the Batman.

The first issue raises some big questions about Keaton’s Batman that would have made for captivating big-screen drama. Early on, the comic asks whether the Dark Knight is ultimately doing more harm than good in Gotham, where citizens now dress up as Batman or the Joker and fight each other in the streets. But a grumpy Bruce Wayne (he’s also graying) stubbornly stands by his convictions during a meeting with Dent, who visits Wayne Manor to ask for Bruce’s help in taking down the Batman. Like in the movies, the duality of the character of Bruce Wayne is front and center in the comic, with the billionaire befriending people in power during the day while working against them as Batman at night.

The book also plays up Wayne’s friendship with Dent because it will likely be a key factor in Dent’s transformation into Two-Face. While the beloved district attorney is still one of the good guys by the end of the first issue, the ingredients for Dent’s fall from grace are already in place. There’s the trick coin he uses to make his own luck (given its own origin story that beckons back to Harvey’s childhood in the streets of Burnside), his marriage to Barbara Gordon that will likely never come to pass, his anger at Batman and Bruce (who is hesitant to help Harvey), and the way he threatens two Joker thugs with a gun — although he’s only trying to scare them, we see that the district attorney is willing to get his hands dirty, not unlike Christopher Nolan’s own version of the character.

How does Dent’s war on Batman begin? By deposing the Caped Crusader’s greatest ally in Gotham City, Commissioner Jim Gordon (resembling Pat Hingle). Gordon faces a vote of no confidence after the violence on Halloween, while Dent and Detective Bullock try to lure Batman into a trap with the Bat Signal, which has to be repaired every couple of weeks because beat cops keeps smashing it. No, Batman doesn’t have many friends left without Gordon. We do see their friendship flourish after two movies-worth of crime-fighting, though. The comic even addresses Gordon’s connection to Bruce’s origin story, which feels like a nod to what Keaton hoped would be the subject of Batman III if it had happened.

By the end of the issue, Batman is once again a wanted man in his own city, and when he runs afoul of another major character, he finds himself directly in the National Guard’s crosshairs. Yes, the issue sets the stage for the debut of the Burtonverse’s Robin, who ambushes the Dark Knight while protecting another kid who stole diapers and baby food for his little sister.

Here is the most direct connection to Hamm’s script for Batman II and what would have been Marlon Wayans’ portrayal of Robin, as well as the book’s most intriguing reinvention. In Hamm’s screenplay, Dick Grayson is introduced as a young Black orphan surviving in the streets with the help of his martial arts skills. In the comic, Grayson has donned his own disguise — a hooded black cape and a yellow face mask — to help the poorest of Gotham, and there are some interesting elements at play here that I would have liked to see on screen, especially the depiction of Robin as a hero trying to save those that the Batman seems to forget while fighting flamboyant villains and stopping heists in Gotham’s more affluent neighborhoods.

Some readers have long criticized the character as not only an example of “copaganda,” despite all the crooked police officers working in the GCPD, but also of a very wealthy guy beating up and maiming poor people. Robin’s debut as someone fighting for those Batman’s war on crime neglects seems like a way to talk about (or at least acknowledge) some of the deeper systemic issues in Gotham that the Caped Crusader can’t fight with his fists. This examination, coupled with Dent’s own crusade, even as worries that he needs to “hide his real face” to fit in with the elite and affect change for places like Burnside, would have been revolutionary back then and feels more relevant than ever now.

It remains to be seen whether the six-issue miniseries will really lean into this type of commentary, but issue one is a promising start for a modern reinvention of the Burtonverse, even as it packs in the nostalgia and imagines what could have been had Keaton’s Batman been given a trilogy.

The post Batman ’89: What Happened Next in the Burtonverse After Batman Returns appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3lQe9l4

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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watchtowerindistress · 5 years

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We are not our masks (8/25) - Bruce Wayne x Reader

Okay, I'll be honest, this scene was a lot of fun to write because Clark just manages to light up the moody Bat. Kudos to those who can detect the quotes I borrowed from HISHE.

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Well, they'd be like

"Shit is crazy right?"

I ain't your baby no more

-Walls Could Talk by Halsey-

Ellie was leaning with her arms crossed against one of the large windows, looking outside and incessantly tapping with her boot on the ground.

“Don’t be nervous. Clark will come. He is very reliable,” Bruce calmed her without looking up, while nonchalantly reading through some papers and doing some corrections with his pen in the process.

“I’m not nervous,” she said defensively, but corrected herself soon after. “Okay, maybe I am a little nervous. I just hope he really is a guy to whom the truth and investigative journalism are the most important values.”

Her confession made him look at her, his comforting gaze going through every bone in her body. Ellie felt instantly warm all over and turned her head away, breaking their connection.

The knocking against Bruce’s office doors made her sigh in relief. Atticus came inside with a dark-haired man with glasses after hearing his boss’s confirmation to come inside and left right after.

Bruce dropped his pen and went around his desk, smiling as he stepped towards the reporter like they were best friends. “Clark,” he called out mirthfully. “About time.” With this greeting both hugged wholeheartedly.

Clark’s wide grin couldn’t conceal their deep friendship for each other. “Bruce, still thinking of yourself to be hilarious. You’re one to talk.”

They separated themselves, giving each other room to assess the other one. Bruce didn’t let the teasing remark dissuade him. “I’m just saying, I’d have thought you’d be here faster. I was actually on time, you even took me by surprise.”

Clark rolled his eyes good-humoredly, already used to his friend’s antics. He then took notice of her standing in the room. “I’m sorry, Clark Kent. Daily Planet.”

With their hands shaking, Ellie introduced herself. “It’s okay. Ellie Rhodes. IT girl.”

Bruce sent her a disapproving stare, probably for just calling herself an IT girl.

“I mean, new Head of IT,” she corrected herself.

Clark chuckled, dropping his hand. Ellie’s curiosity was piqued. “So, you two must be pretty close,” she said, pointing to their bodies.

Clark hesitated before answering, “Yes, Bruce, and I met a year ago, or so. I think it was during this gala Lex Luthor hosted in Metropolis.”

Bruce nodded, he seemed taller than Clark with his head moving slightly above his friend’s. “We threw some insults, some fists,” Ellie raised her eyebrows in surprise, not really expecting this. “I won. Now, we’re best friends.”

“Wow,” Ellie exclaimed out loud.

Clark snorted, throwing him a look as a reminder. “I sort of let you win, Bruce.”

Bruce sent him a taunting grin and crossed his arms in defiance. “Oh really, I seem to recall someone lying on the ground crying out for his mother.”

Clark raised a challenging eyebrow. “Really? You want to get in on this now?!”

“No, of course. Take a seat.” Bruce led him to an armchair while she and Bruce took their seat on the couch right opposite from Clark.

Bruce retorted to his buddy, “It was a tie,” while Clark said quietly in return, “I won.”

Ellie had to smile at the behavior of these two. “Let’s just do what we came here for, okay?” She wasn’t really expecting to be the mediator in this interview. Both only nodded mutely, slightly admonished.

Clark cleared his throat, ready to begin the interview as he was starting to record the audio on his phone. “So, Bruce, there have been some rumors regarding the leak in Wayne Enterprises, do you know who was the person responsible and their intentions?”

Bruce seemed put together in his light gray suit as he folded his fingers in his lap while he straightened his back to prepare himself mentally. “The man responsible was my former employee, Robert Orville, who used to operate as the leader in the IT division. He was the one who stole the pension contributions of my staff while leaking company intel to the newspapers.”

Ellie felt sympathetic for Bruce, feeling like she could offer her support as best as she could, as she put her hand next to him on the couch. She was hoping he was understanding the notion, judging by the twitching in his hands he did.

Bruce let out a drawn out sigh. “In the end as chief executive there is a certain responsibility, not only with the company but also when it comes to your employees. I feel responsible that I didn’t see it.”

“Is the police investigating on this matter,” Clark asked with his inquiring eye not letting up.

Bruce pulled in a deep breath. “There wasn’t any hard evidence found. At the moment we’re on our own.”

Clark seemed to debate with himself as he stared at the both of them sympathetically.

Bruce continued, “And at the moment all we can do is move forward.” He sent her a meaningful sidelong glance, making her smile wryly at his ability to just move past things that were clearly bugging him.

Clark caught his drift, his eyes not seeming to miss a thing. “So, I take it you found someone else who could fill in the shoes of Head of IT?” He was probably trying to assess her with the way his sight was drilling into her features.

“Yes, absolutely.” Bruce turned in his seat towards her. “I made the acquaintance of Miss Rhodes for about a week, but…” His usage of her last name made them both smirk at each other, nearly forgetting the other listening party in the room. “she has proven to be immensely significant to Wayne Enterprises, especially when it was her who found the holes in our tech security in the first place.”

Clark turned his body directly towards her, Ellie was starting to get anxious at the thought of having to talk. She knew Clark was just one person, but the thought that her words would be read by millions of readers, awaiting their judgment terrified her.

The dark-haired reporter was sending her an encouraging smile, slightly easing her discomfort. “So, Ellie…” At her approving smile, Clark continued, “tell me about yourself and why you chose this position.”

Ellie exhaled a long breath. “I am from here and got a tech security company. I’m glad that Lucius Fox, Wayne Enterprises’ business manager contacted my firm, needing my assistance. Later on, Mr. Wayne here,” her sidelong glance met his mischievous eyes, getting a warm feeling spreading in her stomach. “decided to acquire my tech skills. To be honest, I think he only needed me to work at Wayne Enterprises so rivalry corporations like LuthorCorp or Kord Industries wouldn’t lure me away.”

Her teasing statement erupted the office into laughter. “When in truth I felt enticed to work here because I could learn from Lucius Fox.”

Bruce snorted derisively. Ellie continued as if she didn’t hear a thing, “I used to work at multi corporations like LuthorCorp and Lord Technologies, so I wasn’t really keen in doing it again at another.” Her admission made Bruce look up at her, as if she were surprising him by confessing she had been working at such affiliated groups before.

She went on, “I know what it’s like to operate as a woman in the tech world, how everyone doubts your abilities when I have been working for more than 5 years in this business. In the end, I saw the changes I could accomplish here and this past time working in this company reminded me of how much I could accomplish here long-term.”

Ellie must have rendered both guys speechless with the way they were staring at her in unashamed awe. She shrugged, indicating she was finished, already having forgotten she had been speaking public, so to speak.

Bruce smiled proudly, not daring to hide his deep admiration for her. Clark cleared his throat. “Well, I guess I got everything I wanted. That was great.” Ellie smiled, breathing a sigh of relief.

The journalist was packing his things into his messenger bag, momentarily turning his body away. Ellie noticed Bruce turn his head to her ear, whispering, “So glad Lex didn’t get to keep you in the end.”

Ellie giggled, looking at him with happiness making her eyes glint. “Me too.” Before she could stop herself, Ellie was gazing at his lips and gazing into his eyes. She felt herself blush when she saw Bruce do the same.

The clearing of a throat prompted both to look away.

“I was thinking, if you guys got the time, we could have drinks at the cafe around the corner,” Clark offered. To her, Clark Kent appeared like a grown up boy scout, with his innocent face and dorky glasses. Now Ellie understood what Slater meant when he described the reporter as a boy scout.

At both of their nods and smiles, the three of them made their way to the Rose Cafe.

This Clark guy was turning out to be a serious blast. True, at times it looked like something was pulling him down, but all in all he was really funny. And he seemed to lure out the playful side of Bruce.

They were all sitting together in a booth, with Clark sitting in front of them while she and Bruce were next to each other. Ellie was having a strawberry milkshake, Clark chose to try out the vanilla brand and Bruce was enjoying his coffee.

“I’m telling you, this guy,” he was pointing to Bruce as he went a trip down memory lane, “went into this stranger’s face, telling him to treat everyone with respect. Even homeless people, then Bruce gave the person lying on the ground some money, advising to go to the shelter Wayne Foundation was funding in Gotham.”

Ellie was stirring her drink with the long straw, sending Bruce a gaze filled with respect. “Well, not many here in this town who would do something like that,” she confessed, knowing how tough the streets of Gotham could get.

Hearing the word “Wayne” coming from the TV news, made Ellie’s eyes look up in question, seeing some police man in a long coat with the name Commissioner James Gordon underneath. She tilted her head and furrowed her eyebrows, feeling something important coming on. So this was Barbara’s uncle.

“With the help of Bruce Wayne the GCPD had managed to collect incriminating evidence against Robert Orville who is now facing charges against cyber larceny, infringement, and insider trading. From here on out an arrest warrant is issued to…”

With accusation in her eyes, Ellie turned to her left to Bruce who had been looking at her patiently as soon as the news came on, “You knew? All this time? Since when?”

“Gordon and I have been secretly working together since it was known it had been him,” he said monotonously, gazing at her expectantly and he wasn’t disappointed by her reaction.

“You didn’t tell me? Even when I was beating myself up about him since yesterday and even today? Did you even know that I was this close to digging up any dirt about him and sending it to the police?” Ellie could feel the indignant anger coursing through her veins. She was fearing she was blowing things out of proportion but honesty was the most important thing to her when it came to her friends, and she was counting Bruce as some sort of friend. And it only felt like he didn’t trust her enough to confide this to her.

Bruce was looking at her in regret, as if he were expecting her to forget it as soon as it happened. “I told you, Ellie, this was supposed to stay secret and I couldn’t tell anyone.”

Feeling like she needed to cool her head, and she couldn’t do that in a public place. “I need some air.” Ellie put some money on the table and trying to squeeze out of the booth with Bruce blocking the exit by just sitting on the edge. “Sorry, Clark. It was nice meeting you,” she told him in goodbye, seeing him wave sympathetically and pressing his lips together in apology.

Without further thinking about it, Ellie put her hand on Bruce’s shoulder as leverage while moving her legs over his, trying also to be careful with her skirt. She felt Bruce’s hand on hers before she heard him mutter, “I didn’t want to burden you with this, Ellie…”

Ellie didn’t dare look at him, knowing she could get weak when gazing at his brown eyes. “I need to get back to work,” she said, pulling her hand away before leaving through the door.

Bruce POV

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. God, he wanted to ease her into it, prepare her. He could tell that she was beating herself up over it, fearing like she couldn’t do something about it and knowing how relentless this city could get. Despite what Bruce said, he wanted to tell her … he just couldn’t.

Maybe he also thought Ellie wouldn’t take it like she did just now. He shook his head and was shaken out of his thoughts by Clark’s voice, “So … you two seem close.”

Bruce sighed heavily. “I just met her, Clark,” he reminded him and himself, knowing how often his thoughts wandered to the short brunette and that they shouldn’t.

“I’m just saying, you seem pretty shaken and worrying about this ordeal. This is not like you,” Clark said, casting Bruce an observant and caring glance.

Bruce licked his lips in thought. “I’m fine, Clark. I can handle this.”

“There you go again, already taking the burden of everyone else. I bet Ellie was just hurt, thinking you couldn’t trust her.” Even at a time like this Clark Kent proved to be an annoying Jiminy Cricket. In his head he was rolling his eyes at his friend’s persistence to be the voice of reason.

Bruce sent him a dark glare. “God, I wish Doomsday did kill you that night.”

Clark’s gaze turned reproachful. “Now, don’t say things you don’t mean, Bruce.”

“I mean it,” Bruce growled.

“Fine. Be the moody Bat.” Clark rolled his eyes good-naturedly, having half-expected how their conversation would go. Hoping to distract him, Clark chose a different topic. “So, how far are we with the League?”

Bruce was slurping from his cup. “Diana and I have managed to locate both Cyborg and the Flash, but Aquaman,” he was cracking his neck, like the mere thought of the Atlantean was giving him shoulder pains, “he is proving to be more difficult to find than I first anticipated.”

“You want me to x-ray the ocean?” Clark asked, trying to come up with ways to accelerate the search.

Bruce sent him an unimpressed look. “Yes, that sounds like fun. Besides, I need his location on land, not where he likes to swim with the fish.”

Clark sighed. “Maybe you’re right. Any other candidates that could make the cut?”

Bruce seemed hesitant, debating with himself whether to mention the following potential superheroes. “Well, there’s Shazam, basically a kid who turns into a grownup and can throw lightning bolts, fly, and other things. Then, there’s Green Lantern,” he panted a heavy breath, trying to come up with useful things to say about him, “that guy just has an alien ring that does stuff for him and functions as a flashlight.” Bruce shrugged, not really sold on this Hal character.

Clark just raised his eyebrows in confusion, but waited patiently for the rest of the Justice League candidates.

“There’s Green Arrow from Star City. Their very own Robin Hood who’s just missing the goatee.”

Clark narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms thoughtfully. “You got something against archery, or is it the color green that repulses you?

Bruce clenched his jaw, though both arguments pretty valid in not taking in rich boy Oliver Queen. “No, just don’t like Ollie very much.”

“As in Oliver Queen?” At his nod, Clark went on with his perusal, “Or maybe you just don’t want another billionaire on your team, knowing he could be some real competition for you.”

“Oh please, I’m Batman. The guy doesn’t stand a chance, not to mention he’s broke and no longer even a billionaire,” he reminded Clark, feeling insulted that he could even suggest such a thing.

Clark rolled his eyes defiantly, they were getting sidetracked. “Whatever. And who else?”

Bruce pulled in calming breaths, ignoring the previous comments. “Well, not really sold on Martian Manhunter yet, who is a green alien who can read minds and such.”

Clark sighed wearily. “When are you ever going to let this go, Bruce? I told you I was sorry for destroying your company. And I managed to get Zod in the process.”

Bruce tilted his head, narrowing his eyes in annoyance. “Oh, what a relief that you killed the bad guy while I had to pay for all the property damages.” He could feel the anger rise again at his friend’s carelessness.

“You’re rich,” Clark pointed out, his eyes widening at what he heard.

Bruce leaned back with a huff. “So, I’m what? The guy who has to pay every time you choose to demolish another city?”

Clark opened his mouth in shock. “I thought we were friends,” he pointed out, slightly offended at Bruce’s hard words.

Merely rolling his eyes and glowering, Bruce said, “I hate you.”

#we are not our masks #bruce wayne #batman #clark kent #superman #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x oc #bruce wayne imagines #batman imagines #batman imagine #batman x oc

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toflyandfall · 5 years

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Yay! OK: what kind of dynamic would you have with each member of the batfam (Dick especially but each member)? How would you handle his tendency to lash out and dish out scathing comments. Would you find him intimidating? Where would you live in the DCAU, what would you do and who would you hang with?

Oooh, interesting! I think of the batfam, I’d be the most useful with Dick and Alfred. Though I can lead when necessary, I prefer the role of second in command and do well at managing people efficiently without making them feel managed. Alfred is the uncontested champion of both those traits, and Dick’s no short hand at them himself, but even they must need or want help sometimes. I think I’d slot in easily in that kind of capacity.

Dick has a lot of people that look up to him in one way or another, and not many that know all of him but have no expectations for him, no matter what mask he’s wearing. I think he’d benefit from the grounding of someone who knows him and doesn’t directly need anything from him. It would also be pretty easy for me to get caught up in his workaholic mentality, being already inclined towards it. He’s not particularly open to accepting help for himself, but since my bottom line is always what will effect the greatest good, I think that would make it not really about him in a way that he’d understand.

He’s prone to lashing out, but often because of internal tension rather than a direct quarrel with the person he’s lashing out at. That kind of anger, to me, is much easier to manage or not take personally. Either see the stress coming and redirect it before it gets to a breaking point, or afterwards, give some space and then come back with a clean slate. So long as I felt I was able to help more people by being there with him than by not, I’d stick around despite temper flare-ups.

I would probably get into spats with Bruce here and there because I don’t blindly follow other people’s orders and he isn’t much for explaining himself when he gives them. But our goals would probably align more often than not, so I’d probably try to make myself useful to him. I generally err more toward admiration or jealousy of people’s qualities than intimidation from them, but I tend to treat people like people regardless of their capabilities. Most of the time, that’s a good thing that’s appreciated by people usually put up on pedestals. Other times, it potentially gets you kicked out of the ‘cave for telling Batman to not be an emotionally constipated mushroom and show his children he loves them. Alfred might be too British to interfere, but I’m not.

I think if I were going to be intimidated by any member of the batfamily, it would be Barbara, because I’m not sure what I would have to offer her. I’m good at picking apart what people need and once you know that, it’s a good starting place to find a connection to them for either working or personal relationships. Babs already has a fairly well balanced life, however, so while I’d gladly make myself available for her, what kind of dynamic that would end up as would almost entirely depend on how well or how little she took to me. I’d enjoy being friends with her but she’s a busy lady with a full social circle and being only another willing associate to her is a very possible outcome.

I have mixed feelings about a dynamic with Jason, for the simple reason that he can be volatile and I don’t enjoy being around people with whom I don’t know where I stand. Despite that, and despite some moral differences, I think in terms of organization and recreational taste, we’d get along.

If he were my neighbor rather than a vigilante I had to sometimes work with, sometimes work against, we could probably hang out. Friends, but the kind you’d catch lunch or a movie with but have to be very careful not to talk politics around.

Out of the newer sibs, Cass would probably be my favorite. I’d be tremendously interested in learning from her, and I’d look for peaceful things she hasn’t experienced before to introduce her to. She’d probably be the most relaxing member of the batfamily to spend time with. Kind of the reverse of the dynamic with Dick: it’s calming to be around people who don’t really need anything from you. Everything you do for them is solely because you want to.

As for Tim, I actually had a friend for many years who reminded me of Tim, so I’d imagine our dynamic would be pretty similar to that. He was like a little brother to me, very smart but also prone to isolating and with a lot of internal struggles. Light-hearted grounding worked wonders for us and it’s similar to Dick’s own behavior with Tim. I think given time to build up trust, it would be good for Tim, too.

I’m not sure how much I would have in common with Stephanie outside of the batfamily nightlife. We’d probably be friendly and banter, and I could see hanging out in group situations, but I don’t foresee us having much one on one interaction or a very personal relationship.

Damian is probably the member I would get along with the least. We do both have a soft spot for animals, but Dick, despite that infamous temper, displays a patience with Damian’s habitual abrasiveness that I’m not sure I could emulate. I tolerate occasional lashing out from people who respect me (see Dick and Bruce), but not habitually from people who expect to receive respect without offering respect. We would get to an understanding with each other but there would be friction first.

As to the last part of your question, I’ve always been fascinated by the question, ‘Who helps the helpers’. Major surgery is not a job one beleaguered butler can do in a basement, even with the best tools money can buy, and let’s be honest, almost anyone in a mask is going to experience things worth going to therapy over. I’d like to be involved with something akin to Leslie Thompson’s clinic or Young Justice’s Black Canary-as-therapist-for-traumatized-superheroes. A safe space to pick people and protectors up and put them back on their feet. I’m willing to take on a mask, but at its core, I don’t think that you need one to be capable of doing good in this world or any other. It’s just an added benefit if you can do it in your nightlife and your daylife.

#dc #dick grayson #bruce wayne #barbara gordon #jason todd #tim drake #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #damian wayne #meta #o.c #asks #anonymous #theorycrafting

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paladin-of-nerd-fandom65 · 7 years

Text

Diplomacy -Teen Titans And Fantastic Four Crossover

The breathtaking view outside of the window featuring all sorts of nimbus clouds and flocks of migrating birds paint peaceful scenery in the air over the lush green pastures thousands of feet below. Richard Grayson, the man on this flight and looking to the beauty seen right now, always admired being the sky as his mother’s “little Robin”. The height and skyscrapers of Gotham in his later childhood amplified the admiration; from running across the brick built rooftops to soaring through the air over the bright traffic alongside the man he delightfully calls even to this day his “second dad”. However, said “dad” always seem struck with cases of bad luck through the friends he makes. No not Justice League or the Titans International, those are the Batman’s friends. Not so much the case CEO Bruce Wayne the secret identity whom runs a mega corporation that spreads worldwide, slowly but surely offering new countries for expansion and deals that benefit all involved. Hence was Richard’s (or Dick for short) apprehension.

The country the Wayne Enterprises plane flies over is the Balkan nation of Latveria, the currently prosperous home of the world’s greatest Romani population, a population under the benevolent rule of Dr Victor Von Doom. One might believe that name was a joke but bear in mind, Doom actually deserved such a name given from the various missions involving not only the JLA and Titans but the Fantastic Four and their little “relationship” with Doom and his various “take over the world” schemes (maybe that’s the reason Beast Boy last Halloween dressed as the Latverian ruler with the only saying he can mutter being “RICHAAAAARRRRRRRRDDDDDSSSSS!!!!”). But one the hand there always the ‘benevolent’ part of his resume and rightfully so for Doom’s country enjoyed a GDP and income equality rate surpassing even the United States and Singapore’s economic stats combined. Very few companies ever invest within this small country for they bear next to no “economic advantage for Doom”; it appears though Wayne Enterprises seems to fit that bill.

With the plane landed and stepping out with his two “bodyguards” Titan veterans Starfire and Raven, Dick follows the two guards who greeted him at Doomstadt International Airport and boards their limo en route to Castle Doom. Starfire notably seems a bit nervous, fiddling with her fingers as said limo begins its trip to the castle, passing by the city folk and robotic servants that act as crossing guards.

Whispering to her fiancée, Star asks “Richard, are you positive of this idea?”

Rachel Roth (aka Raven) couldn’t help but agree, also whispering in a more suppressed manner “Yeah, not only are we being treated as ‘welcome’ guests here, but in a scale of ‘what could possibly go wrong’ plans, even this seems a wee bit too much from you, Dick.”

Dick, noticing the two guards hardening their stares towards him and his friends, says “It’ll be fine I promise we’ll get through this as if we’re only taking a trip to an actual doctor.”

“But Richard, the guards are staring at us much like a Porkin preparing to devour its prey. I cannot imagine what this Doom will think of us, let alone these guards” Starfire said with a dash of panic in whisper.

Taking her hand and gently running his fingers through it, Dick says, “Just relax, Kori. Let’s just try being on good behavior and they’ll let us go. You can do that honey, I know you can.”

Koriand’r Grayson couldn’t help herself but to nod in silent agreement right before turning to the Latverian guards and flashing her best smile to them. Even the guards seem taken a bit back by such. Dick couldn’t help by sigh. This was not going to be fun.

Castle Doom, with its medieval walls, frightening towers and the numerous robots with gigantic laser canons only needed some good old fashioned “Swan Lake” played via church organ in the background to complete its intimidating effects. Dick and the others stare up towards the awe aspiring fortress with a combination of fear and wonder. Dick in particular, given the details he had received from Reed Richards before accepting the invitation from the owner of this castle, couldn’t help but lean more towards the wonder portion of his stares. Based on Reed, Victor Von doom was born in a Romani tribe within this country with a very loving mother who always taught him the ways of how people should be fascinated by not only what you do but who you are as a person. Victor had learned the basics of life, peacefulness and most importantly love from his mother Cynthia Von Doom whose said love permeated the young Doom down to his very soul. Dick couldn’t help but make that sort of connection since he too was born to a band of Romani travelers, and experience such love from his mother Mary Lloyd Grayson as well. Sadly, another connection the two was found between them for Dick also learned from Reed’s information of what happened to his mother at eight years old, the same age he was when ‘the trapeze accident’. The comparison between however end right there for to summarize, at least he accepted his friends, Doom did not.

The giant creaking sounds of doors opening immediately snapped Dick and his friends out of their thoughts. A lone man in a nice suit not unlike Alfred’s steps out saying, “Welcome, visitors. Master Doom awaits your presence in his dining halls. Please come quickly.”

From behind him, a young boy, probably no older than 8 years old, peeks out and asks, “Boris, are these the Americans Master wanted to see?”

Starfire, with her attention caught by the child in her usual loving way, responds, “Yes we are little one though *giggles* I do not yet posses ‘American’ citizenship. Please, what is your name?”

Excitedly, the boy answers, “M-m-My name’s Kristoff, madam! I was recently taken in by my Master for” suddenly Kristoff’s mood dampened slightly “my mother has passed away, on the day Master Doom returned to reclaim his land from our last oppressor Zobra. Doom avenged her and defeated that…tyrant…but now I am under his protection.”

Starfire had tears preparing to fall from her eyes as walked to Kristoff Von Doom, holding him closely in comfort. Rachel now had a sad look on her face in which just screamed of the type rage you can only get when a ruler is worse than a guy literally named Doom. Dick, also having that same distraught look, again reflect to the sadness he felt with ‘the accident’, the fact he still feels to this day he could’ve prevented it by simply telling his parents to get the trapeze for that one stinking night. But, then again, he did recall from the files Reed Richards gave him stating deep down under all that metal armor and cold blooded attitude, Doom did a heart for his people and not only did that earlier flight over the prosperous country but now this young child under care show it, so maybe it won’t be that bad he guessed.

This pondering would have to wait however, as Boris gestures to the guests, “If you shall please follow me, I shall show you the way to Master Doom.” With the three Titans following him, Boris turns to the young lad with a kind smile, “Now Kristoff, Master Doom requires some privacy perhaps you should go to your room and finish that homework.”

With a nod, Kristoff heads upstairs while Dick Grayson and his bodyguards follow Boris past the exquisite hallways, filled with the portraits of conquerors, warriors and majestic women and men that have guided the pathway of this country for centuries. Of course being a Princess herself, Starfire had now the wonderment and fascination with these majestic halls and rooms in which reminded her dearly of the various hallways of Planet Tamaran’s capitol. Dick always loved it when she has that wonderment look; it was such a look that helped captivated his heart since that first day at Jump City.

Now standing outside two gigantic doors that led into the main dining hall, the three Titans now just prayed that Doom doesn’t change his mind about this business deal with Wayne Enterprises and order their arrests on the spot. Thankfully, though, Dick comes prepared for each of the three wear watches in which can transmit a small audio frequency, not enough for lowly humans to hear, but a certain Superman can hear, who currently hovers above Latveria at an altitude no air scanning equipment can detect, not even Latverian types. Finally, the doors crack and a stern, rough, terrifying but also quiet voice proclaims, “You may enter.”

With that, Richard John Grayson-Wayne Llodveski (his mother’s real last name before immigrating to the United States) sees at the very end of a large, beautifully designed dining table a single man, cloaked with a captivating green hood, the metal limbs of his armor ever so shiny in chrome and two brown pupil human eyes peering through a frightening metal mask, the man known simply as Doom.

Taking their seats with lavish and mouth watering cuisines laid before them, the Titans pretty much lose their appetites the minute the ruler of Latveria takes his own seat and begins to speak, “ Well now, young one. I have heard of your association with this Wayne Enterprises and their proposition. So now, Doom permits you to speak of this, quickly.”

Dick, gulping to keep his compose says, “Well, y-y-yeah. Wayne Enterprises is considering establishing factories in this country for there’s apparently a low but noticeable unemployment rate going on in the country sides and we believe these factories can make new jobs and maybe even set up a small bit of trade between us and Latveria.”

Doom, with his fingers tenting in his hands not unlike Gendo Ikari, ponders about this prospect before asking, “What could the Batman’s little company provide for Latveria’s people that Doom simply cannot do?”

Dick’s eyes widen as with the others “y-y-y-y-y-you know?!”

Underneath his mask, Doom smirks, “Why of course Mr. Grayson, after all Wayne Enterprises’ commitment to financially supplying various politicians worldwide that promise fighting the ‘superstitious, cowardly lot’ of criminal elements within your countries seems a close indicator does it not?”

Dick’s eyes began to look down to his watch to signal Clark for help and most likely would’ve had it not for Doom’s words afterword, “However, Doom is merciful in this case for Doom understands the need of protecting his home and his loved ones, in which would be all in jeopardy had his ‘activities’ been revealed. No, Doom only wishes for a challenge with a man worthy in his eyes, a demon from the pits of Hell itself as your precious “Batman’ elaborates himself after, rather than the pathetic weak minded simpleton Bruce Wayne showcases himself as.”

Dick now had a minor case of trembling going through his hand for this jerk badmouthing the man who raised him into what he is today. But after some considering about what a disaster any irrational action would do at this moment, he takes deep breath and calmly looks back at Doom with a straight face. After all, if Starfire and Raven were ordered to have good behavior, he better lead by example on that.

So dinner proceeds, with continuous conversation between Mr. Grayson and Doom with Starfire and Raven both bearing witness what will mostly likely becoming a historical event for ages to comes, all being done over a few courses of steamed lobster and beef platters.

As dinner begins to wine down and the deals are discussed and either accepted or put into consideration. Victor brings into mind a question Dick honestly should’ve considered, “you are of Romani descent are you not?’

“Yeah, I am actually.”

“Interesting, you don’t possess the common mannerisms and accent normally associated with our people.”

Rubbing his head on the back, Dick replies, “Well my mother did have some of that going on like for example she’ll always say we can speak the language in our home while outside we did other languages like English, Russian or others.

His hand on his chin in a pondering manner, Doom then asks, “Has your mother…taught you about others and their prejudices?”

Dick answers, “Yeah, my mother always told me that no matter what people say, even if there part of my group at the circus, always know that you’re the best at you do and who you are.’

With a slight somber and quiet tone, Victor finally asks, “Did you love? So much so you are willing to do anything to get her back?”

Dick in all honest couldn’t answer that right away. Even with a deep breath or two he couldn’t answer. He’s sorry he tries but God dang it was that REALLY touchy to him. A hand gently rubs on dick’s shoulder and with two tears ready to fall, Dick looks up to see Koriand’r Grayson as she was the one to say in her eyes ‘it’s okay Richard, you can talk about her’.

With his compose slightly restored, Dick responds, “Yeah, I really do love her but as much as I do want her back, I perfectly okay with what I do have and am sure she’s happy with where she is, body and soul.”

Doom slightly tensed, “but surely you cannot abandon the one who has given you life and love to such a miserable state especially with such a horrific way she perished. Certainly you must admit within some point in your life you wish for a much happier life than this perpetual misery and torment without any course you can take to undone such. It is almost as if you in some capacity allowed that Wayne to take her place in your soul, a place that should remain unspoiled! Doom certainly would not tolerate such, why must you?’

Dick maintained his stance “Because, I know for all the bad that did happen after what happened to my mom and dad, whenever I felt like falling apart, I had not only Bruce but Starfire here to help get me back up. I take them for what you they are for me, my girlfriend and my ‘second’ dad if you may. They themselves said they’re trying to take their place in my family as my parents. No one can take their place. They just have their own place in my family. I allow my family to grow like. You know, you have Boris but also that kid of yours, Kristoff. Maybe, Dr Doom, maybe they can be their own place in your family too?”

Doom remained silent for a brief while. Perhaps, for all the times this “Nightwing” character along his “friends” the Titans International and their alliance with that…man Richards….and all the times they foiled his plans for bringing Planet Earth unto a state on par with Latveria itself, perhaps he has established some consideration into him. None of this seems possible though. Only Doom can consider such a thought! Not these outsiders! Yes, yes, Doom considers this “places in family” and none others. Still though such ideals must remain silent for now, night has come to Latveria, by now his ward Kristoff has gone to bed as Doom rules. No, his son Kristoff has gone to bed. Very well then, Doom has had enough of this drabble.

“Boris” Doom commands, “please escort our guests to their rooms for the night. Our matters will be concluded tomorrow as Doom commands.”

With that the three Titans follow the elderly gentleman to their rooms for the night. As they head upstairs, Rachel whispers to Dick, “Well, I guess it could’ve been a lot worse than that.”

Kori agrees, “Yes, Richard. I do believe now your skills for table mannerisms with dangerous dictators shall add amongst your other traits.”

Dick shrugs with a small smirk on his face, ‘I’m chatty what can I say”. The three had a soft bit of laughter to that remark.

Okay then, this turned better than they thought.

#dick grayson #koriand'r #victor von doom #rachel roth #my posts #fanfic #fantastic four

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