#a very tired bruce wayne | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

The average Tumblr user visits about 67 pages every month.

#a very tired bruce wayne

tiredofsatansbullshit · 1 month

Text

and there goes batman with another reckless plan where he doesn’t consider his children at all-

oh! what’s this! it’s the red hood with a steel chair! !!

#does this make sense?#is it funny?#i don’t know #i’m very tired #it’s funny to me #jason todd #red hood #bruce wayne #batman #dc #batfam #batfamily

606 notes · View notes

scintillyyy · 6 months

Text

the thing about killing jack drake in identity crisis is that it deprived us of the bruce and jack dynamic that makes tim miserable we deserved.

bruce doesn't know how to cook. jack also doesn't know how to cook. tim never wants to see a tuna fish sandwich again.

everytime bruce is too hard on tim, jack objects and says he should be easier on the boy. when bruce goes easier on him "you shouldn't be so soft on him."

bruce & jack argue over tim's future. bruce says he should be a detective. jack is adamant he should be an archeologist. tim would very much like to be excluded from this narrative.

"uh. listen to bruce" jack says. "uh. listen to your father" bruce says. tim doesn't want to listen to either of them.

how expensive are trips to paris again?

after bruce returns from the timestream he figures he may as well offer tim's jobless dad a job at the company side of batman inc. on account of he knows the secret. this job involves a lot of travel. now both of tim's dads are traveling 75% of the year. tim wonders why this keeps happening to him.

shit, he can't go to paris if bruce and jack are there.

#bruce wayne #jack drake #tim drake #they keep up golfing together except now bruce doesn't have to hold back against jack anymore. jack is very tired of losing.#bruce doesn't feel bad at all. he's still a little salty over the whole threatened with a gun thing.

762 notes · View notes

mysterycitrus · 4 months

Text

bruce wayne and dick grayson, a lonely place of dying (1989)

#im very tired.#bruce wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #Batman #robin #batfam #dc comics #spokes #tbd #god this is so stupid

758 notes · View notes

ghost-bxrd · 5 months

Text

Prompt:

Damian falls out of time and straight into the street-kid-Jason-Todd era.

Jason isn’t sure what’s up with the weird kid following him around these days but the guy just saved him from some real nasty men so he ain’t complainin’. Now, where do they find enough food to last them the winter…

#prompts #Jason and Dami keeping each other alive #Dami considers taking Jay to Bruce early for one hot second #protective Damian wayne #Dami lowkey adopting Jason #Jason is just along for the ride but he already loves his murdery older brother #the Batmobile tire situation ends up going very different #Dami is just straight up screwing with the timeline #Batman trying to grab Jason ends with Bruce almost getting his hands sliced off #hehe #jason todd #Damian wayne #Damian al ghul #batfamily #batdad #Jason and Damian

737 notes · View notes

puppetmaster13u · 2 months

Text

Prompt 231

Y'know, I bet in a world where DC and Marvel are in the same world, I Bet Bruce Wayne knows Matt Murdock. I bet they went to at least a couple same trainers and I bet Bruce invites him to a gala at some point.

No one would bat an eye at Bruce knowing another lawyer, he was already childhood/school friends with Harvey Dent.

And honestly, let the grimey cryptid boys be friends. Make Gotham and Hell's Kitchen WEEP at the thought of the 'living shadow creature' and the 'demon pretending to be human' working together.

Even if they're both completely human. Let them fuck with people as a treat.

#batman #dcu #dc #marvel #daredevil #prompts #cryptid batman #Cryptid Daredevil #Let them be gremlin friends #Let everyone go wtf when they instantly vibe as vigilantes #Let the conspiracies go wild #Matt Khoa & Bruce: yo what if we learned assassin stuff >:)#Bruce Harvey Matt & Foggy: College... hard... very tired... let's be Feral (& the single braincell)#They're all smart but sometimes the braincell hides when they're all together #matt murdock #Bruce wayne #marvel mcu #dc x marvel

159 notes · View notes

sisaloofafump · 3 months

Text

Bats

Animated version of this. Character list under barrier:

These are characters who have bat symbols, not other characters on the teams (like nightwing) who does have a symbol that is similar in form but doesn’t stand for the same thing. Obviously I’m missing some people and the ones that are here have many variations of their look and I just chose one of them. I’ll probably rearrange the animation so the symbols are in this order, but that would require reanimating parts and ion wanna do that right now

Also, so they’re all on the same post, this art I had drawn because I had gotten a comment previously about the symbols looking like underwear

#very tired #okay #dc comics #batman #bruce wayne #my art #Stephanie brown #Cassandra Cain #barbara gordon #batgirl #kate Kane #batwoman #Duke Thomas #Jason Todd #red hood #batwing #luke fox

168 notes · View notes

soupinaboot · 6 months

Text

"Oh Clark is the sun!" "He's the brightest and the sunshine and the warmth and-"

I'm not gonna say you wrong, but have you considered that Superman physically can't survive without the sun? He basically photosynthesizes and needs the sun to keep him alive. In the same way he needs Batman to keep him alive, he can't live without him. His sunshine is Bruce, as he is to him. And he would sacrifice the people's sun if it meant he got to bask in his sunlight for even a second more.

And Bruce only ever hid from the brightness, never liked the chaos of the day. Found peace and tranquility in the quietness and stillness that only the moon was powerful enough to command. He felt the most protected and safe when under the light that was only worshiped by few. Superman is his only constant, the only one that can calm him down and treat him the way he's desperately wanted all his life. He doesn't hide from his moon.

No wonder he cares so much to protect only the night, and no wonder he trusts Clark to protect the day. The same way he trusts him to protect his heart like no other.

#superbat #im having feelings #can you tell i dont understand metaphors #?#clark kent #superman #bruce wayne #batman #dc #dc comics #i don't know anymore #their dynamic #is just everything to me #i love them #i want to hold them in my hand and carry tgem atound im my pockets and live thrm amd loose my mind #im very tired #if you dont understand bruce is clarks sun and clark is bruces moon

60 notes · View notes

tanglepelt · 1 year

Text

Dc x dp idea 7?

So Valerie is hunting down Cujo. Danny is chasing Valerie. Cujo is just enjoying his run until he is not

I can think of two ways they chase gets seen.

1.)

Damian is out with Titus and witnesses Valerie as red huntress chasing the animal and gets involved.

He wants the green dog that can change from a small puppy to a guard dog. Cujo will be his newest pet. He doesn’t have a problem.

So now he is trying to adopt Cujo while attacking Valerie.

Danny now has to prevent his dog from being adopted by a child in cosplay and protect Valerie as the kid is good with a sword.

2.)

Beast boy.

Cujo plows into him and he just transforms into a green puppy like cujo. Red huntress just has two targets now.

Vlad gave her a gun that stops powers. For the purposes of fun it works on beast boy. So he’s stuck as little puppy cujo and for fun cujo is in his guard dog form.

Guard dog cujo grabs beast boy and takes off. Danny finds them knows right away beast boy isn’t a ghost. He has ghost sense after all.

He just a set to protect them both until the power effects wear off. Cujo can safely get home then and hopefully whatever the impostor is will change back to its original form.

Well the impostor dog wants him to follow him. Danny just follows the leader with his guard dog privileges.

387 notes · View notes

mid-nightowl · 6 months

Text

untitled lil fic #1 (jason todd and gotham war)

here's some gotham war rewrites i needed to get out of my head, the brainrot was killing me omg

warnings for violence, cursing, whatever the hell Bruce is doing (just Bruce as a full warning tag, the man is more unhinged than Joker in this)

---

“Oh Jason. How I’ve missed you, my sweet boy.”

The words are sickeningly sweet, poison-saturated words falling from bloody red lips. Delivered with a crooked smile, Joker looks up at him, uncaring at his position. His fingers curl in the clown’s suit collar, lips curling with a snarl.

Jason punches him again, the clown’s jaw cracking and his body straining against the ferry railing. Joker merely giggles, head lolling around through the air before his mismatched eyes meet his mask.

“Shut the fuck up!” He snaps, unholstering his gun and digging the muzzle into Joker’s cheek.

His murderer raises his hands, waggling his fingers in surrender, grinning and smirking and smiling.

He hates it, he hates it, he hates it.

“I want you to think about this real carefully,” He digs his gun into his skin. “This could be the last joke you ever make, you understand? That’s what you want to go with?”

“You know,” His nightmare giggles, chuckles like a wind-up toy before he wipes the amusement off his face. The clown looks up at him, head tilted, pleased and patient and thoughtful. There’s not a single sliver of hate and destructive menace, or anger or disappointment or suspicion.

Wrong, wrong, wrong, he thinks. There’s something wrong here. There’s something wrong with Joker—and not in the usual way.

“The best jokes deliver a difficult truth, but hide it with a fun fiction,” Joker explains, smushed but coherent words strung together despite the gun halfway in his mouth. “Without humor all we have left is being mean and lying.”

“What?” He can’t stop the words before they stumble out of his mouth. He doesn’t let the gun go lax in his hand despite the way the clown’s words throw him off guard.

Off-kilter is a genuine feeling that digs into him, shocking him to the core. The clown does this, he knows it. He knows this is how he does things, how he worms his way out of every situation and every attempted manslaughter, he knows how the clown operates, intimately.

Jason knows him.

Joker, historically, has been so many things. But he’s always been a psychotic, impulsive mass-murderer. Someone without restraint, without limitation.

It’s why he’s always been Batman’s true nemesis. Bruce, he needs a fine-tuned control of everything and everyone. He is someone who has limits and restraint.

Controlled, focused, and without limitations—Jason is almost the happy medium to both of them.

Almost.

The three of them are similar, different, opposites and identical. It’s like walking in one of those mirror mazes where you can’t tell who the real you is.

Who is the real Bruce Wayne? The man who cherishes his children or the one who maims them?

Who is the real Joker? The cold, purposeful mass murderer or the dumped-in-acid man who can’t tell the difference?

Who is the real Jason Todd? The bloody crime lord or the declawed crowbar wielding vigilante?

Joker simply smiles and pats his arm, as if Jason’s not trying to kill him.

He slams the clown against the railing again, snarling.

“Enough games!” He growls and flips the safety off. The noise doesn’t even phase Joker, if anything he grins harder. His mismatched eyes—one red-brown, one green—flick above them before returning to his.

“Are you really going to use that big bad gun of yours with Daddy watching? He’ll be so mad at you.” His murderer grins, letting his head hang limply in his grasp.

“What? Batman-!” He jerks back, head snapping up to the ferry roof cover.

Empty. No looming monster demanding a painful compromise is here.

Joker’s hands push him back, and he grunts, stumbling into the ferry wall. The clown tumbles over the railing, disappearing from view. His laughter haunting the air.

“No!” He shouts, dashing to the railing.

The clown is gone under the waves and ice, sinking into the dark of Gotham Harbor.

He’s not dead. He can’t be dead, Jason thinks, gripping the ice-cold railing, I haven’t killed him yet.

He’s not dead.

But that was mean.

The last words Jason hears remind him of his grave.

No, not the one he was buried in. Six feet of dirt above him and smothered in satin, watched over by that stupid weeping angel.

There’s a memorial in the cave with his name. ‘Good soldier’ and nothing else but his name. Both of them: Jason Todd and Robin.

A monument to Bruce’s failure, his greatest mistake, a grave to his complicated teenage years, his love.

“You’ve always been a good soldier. Rest now.” Bruce told him, jabbing him in the neck with the needle.

A grave, a memorial, a monument. It makes him sick. The reminder that he will always be the dead Robin, the sad Robin, the angry Robin.

Dead, dead, dead.

The violence done to him, inflicted and imprinted into his skin and bones was more important. The guilt and the lesson were more important than his cries for justice, for his life’s blood.

The monument and altar, raised after his murder, were never for him, but for Bruce.

He was dead, why would he care?

The story Bruce will tell would never be the truth, just excuses and wrong-doings. He would take accountability after the fact, but not before.

Bruce would let his murderer walk and let him rot.

Maybe that was why he buried Jason six feet under, so he wouldn’t have to face the decay and decomposition. That he could keep this golden, blurry image of him as Robin, as the straight A student, the good son. And not a weightless body splinted a thousand different ways to look human.

But now that he’s resurrected—not in Bruce’s image, but as something broken and jagged, something lost and filled with dirt and green-green-green—Bruce refuses to acknowledge him. Refuses to believe this is who he is.

Refuses to believe that he remade (destroyed) himself from the ruins, from the broken bones and empty veins and black thread that mended his corpse back into the image of Jason Todd. Refuse to think that if a girl can come back as a soothsayer, that a boy can come back as a gun.

“Hnnng…Bruce,” Jason groans softly, heaving himself off the couch.

Batman turns to him, looming with his face mask in his hands. The fluorescent lights, a nauseous lime-yellow, cut over his figure, his face, his mask. Almost a green-green-green, almost a pool of rage, almost a pit of madness.

His mask crackles alive in Bruce’s hands, Selina’s voice wavering between annoyance and worry.

“Red Hood? Hood, please check in and let me kno-” Batman clicks his comm off.

The resounding silence smothers him.

His exhale comes out shaky, his heart beating too fast behind his bruised ribs, a chill crawling over his exposed skin.

Something’s wrong. Something is very wrong.

“...Batman? You…” He swallows roughly, mouth filled with dirt and blood and thread. “Wha…What did you do?”

“Nothing I’m proud of, Jason.”

His heart sinks and skips a beat at the same time, stomach twisting with anxiety and fingers trembling against the ugly brown couch cushions.

Inhale.

He pushed too much.

Taking Selina’s side?

He went too far.

Hood didn’t kill anyone?

Exhale.

“Hh! Ho…” Jason croaks, getting his boots on the ground. “Y-you…you..”

“Take deep breaths, Jason.” Batman turns back to the computer hub glowing behind him, ignoring his attempts to speak, to demand answers.

His arms shake as he holds himself upright, but when he tries to stand instead he chokes, falling to his knees in front of the couch. Gasping for air, he lays his palms flat against the cool tiles. His legs are quivering, heavy and unable to hold his weight.

His whole body trembles with it, this feeling unfolding through his blood and bones, engulfing his head and voice.

Fear, fear, fear.

“Years ago I created my backup personality, Zur, using techniques I learned from an old mentor and this machine that I built,” Batman starts, monitoring the screens in front of him with one hand on the keyboard and the other on his belt.

Bruce doesn’t turn to look at him, to face him, someone he calls son, someone he considers family, and explain what he’s done to Jason.

He never has.

“I can’t change your personality with it, Jason…” Batman sighs, low and quiet. “But I can add to it. A small thing: your failsafe.”

Failsafe. He slams the heel of his palm on the floor, cheeks tingling with his telltale sign of tears. A failsafe?!

Because Red Hood needs a failsafe instead of justice.

“What?!” He tries to snarl, to hiss and yell and scream his rage. But his voice fails him, anxiety chewing at his throat and tongue, voice tilting too high, too unsteady, too weak.

“Now when you have heightened adrenaline, when you’re about to do something dangerous, your fear kicks in,” Batman continues explaining. “It…I’m sorry Jason. But it’s the only way.” He clenches his eyes shut—inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale—and tries to ignore his rabbit heart battering against its cage, pounding to the frantic rhythm of fear, fear, fear.

“I love you.”

The words feel like gunshots, the knuckle prints on his skin after the two of them fought over Penguin, the smack of Selina’s whip against his fingers, the crowbar on his skull, his legs, his ribs, over and over and over.

“I love you, but you are a murderer,” Bruce condemns him, over and over again. “You’re a bull in a china shop and I go round after round with you, trying to figure out how to help make you a better man, to heal you.”

“H-heal me?” He whispers, rage cut off at the roots. “This isn’t…this isn’t you, Bruce.”

Batman, finally, turns to Jason. He looms, tall and foreboding, darkness dripping around him, drenching him in fear, fear, fear.

Batman takes a step forward and he crashes back against the couch, spine digging into the wooden frame painfully.

He can’t breathe. Batman moves and he knows it in his bones, knows it down to the scars Gotham and its guardian have left on him, that he’s not here to save him, to help him.

“I got you a new identity. A place in Metropolis.” Batman keeps walking forward, despite Jason’s growing hyperventilation, despite the way his blunted nails scratch at the floor. Despite the way he shakes, black stitches snapping apart, the pieces of him falling to the floor of this slaughterhouse, at the feet of his butcher.

“B-bat…Batman,” He whimpers, hand twisting into the fabric of his suit.

“You can live a normal life. Fall in love, do meaningful work. This isn’t punishment, Jason,” Batman kneels in front of him and removes the cowl. “I love you.” Jason shrinks back, shoulders back and legs curled to his chest. Bruce’s face is sharp and pale, with bags under his eyes and days old stubble on his jaw.

His eyes are dark with absolute rage.

Batman is going to hurt him. Batman is going to hurt him.

Bruce is going to hurt him again.

“This is a gift. Any way you look at it, you should be in prison for all the people you’ve killed,” He chokes at Bruce’s words, barely smothering the terrified cry in his throat. “This is me saving you from that. Save you from yourself.”

Jason can only stare at the man before him—the man who took him in, who raised and trained him, who loved him—does his best to bury him.

fear, fear, fear.

“Please..don’t…please,” Jason pleads, covering the girl with his frame, caging her in with his bruised and burnt arms.

“Let’s begin.” Scarecrow’s voice reverberates, it shakes through air to match his erratic breathing.

“P-please, I’ll do anything you want, anything,” He begs, fear, fear, fear burning in his veins. “Please. Just stay…stay away.”

Scarecrow closes the gap between them, rocking back and forth on his crooked, long legs. His mask distorts and mutates, a familiar green-green-green splashing over the darkened void of his gas mask.

“You’re going to die tonight. I know you know this,” Crane looms over him, green-green-green trickling out his eyes, gushing out like an open wound. “But we can still have fun, can’t we.”

The girl trembles underneath his chest and Jason tries to smother the whimper begging to pour out his lips. It’s gnawing at him—rabbit heart frantic in his chest, hands trembling from the burning pain and anxiety, smoke and ash gathering in his lungs—fear, fear, fear.

He can’t think of anything else.

“Those fools were right. Your terror…it’s real and it isn’t mine,” Scarecrow sneers, kneeling in front of him. “There is no thrill in driving terror into the heart of a baby bird.”

Scarecrow takes his jaw in his hand, needles tickling at his exposed skin, forcing Jason to look at him. He can’t help but jerk his head at Crane’s touch, needles pricking into his cheek when Crane holds him tighter, another inescapable cage around him.

His chest heaves with every shaky inhale-exhale, his anxious fear fanning over the rogue’s mask. Scarecrow leans in closer, the glass over his eyes gleaming, reflecting the fire roaring around them. Jason can hear the screams in them, watching the shadows morph around them and the straw on Crane’s shoulders wiggle.

“This is my moment of triumph, and it is snatched away from me by..by him?!” Scarecrow shakes Jason’s head in his hand, needles scratching into his skin but still not drawing blood.

Scarecrow lets his head drop, needles disappearing from his sight before they’re clawing at his throat, wet and cold against his clammy skin. Jason whimpers and clenches his eyes shut, unable to do anything but beg.

He knows praying for someone to help him is futile.

No one is coming to save him.

“Never let it be said Scarecrow has no pity,” Crane says, voice cutting in and out his head like radio static. “I will quickly finish what your daddy started.”

“Doesn’t mommy get a say?”

A voice slices through the flames licking at his skin and the fear smothering him. And when Jason’s gaze finds him, he can’t help the tears.

“Step away from the vigilante, pervert.” Joker grins, dark red lips stretched too wide, too thin. Ash rains down on his green-green-green umbrella, rolling down the crooked dark patches and shamrock-colored nylon.

“You’ve already killed him once. It’s time you learned to share, Clown.” Scarecrows speaks with thin, razor-sharp disdain, glaring over his shoulder at the newcomer.

“You should know this by now, Doc. I don’t play well with others.” The clown throws aside the umbrella, knife materializing from thin air as he descends upon Scarecrow.

“You’re not even really him, are you? Do you think I don’t know about you? Delusions and megalomania with-” Scarecrow baits and taunts the clown, before the two of them are ducking and weaving and slicing at each other with barely concealed rage and annoyance.

“Blah, blah, blah. Do you know why you’re always going to be a C-List villain, Johnny?” Joker jokes and Jason can imagine the sharp grin on his face. “Because doctors aren’t scary. They’re annoying.”

He ducks his head down and curls tighter around the girl. She cries underneath him, hiccups soft under the roar of flames closing in on them, the screech of metal on metal and creaking of deteriorating wood.

He can’t move. He can’t do anything but try to breathe. But all he tastes is smoke, choking him, billowing down his throat and in his lungs. His heartbeat is so loud, jumping under its bone-cage, a heady, heavy thing—badump-badump-badump-badump. It’s too fast, erratic, out of control.

“You’re a bull in a china shop and I go round after round with you, trying to figure out how to help make you a better man, to heal you-”

Always out of control. Jason whines, hands scrambling against the wood below him. It burns, seering through his fingertips. It hurts-it hurts-it hurts, he can’t do this. He can’t.

He can’t breathe.

“Ahhhh! Ack! Achhhhh!” Scarecrow screams, guttural and wobbly and when he looks up, Jason can only watch as Crane crashes through the fifth story window.

Tears continue to stream down his face, his heart trembling in his chest and the realization strikes him then, cracking down on his skull like a crowbar, over and over and over.

Joker saved him. Joker saved him. Joker saved him.

His murderer saved him.

“A-are you real?!” Jason cries out, fingers curling into the withering floorboards. “Is this real?!”

“Oh, don’t worry about him. I didn’t even give him a real dose of Joker Gas. I ran out. Heh!” Joker laughs, rubbing at his jaw. Blood and green-green-green stain the edges of his mouth, smeared down his chin and throat before disappearing under the orange sweatshirt he’s wearing.

“But now, it’s just you and me. And…your daughter? Did you have a daughter and not tell me?” The clown tilts his head in question, tucking away the green-green-green gun in his hand. He steps closer, uncaring of the flames licking over his pale skin.

Jason can’t tell if it's real or an illusion, can’t tell if his murderer is here and saving? rescuing? tricking? him. He can’t tell if this is just another nightmare he’s trapped himself in, or if this is the real punishment Bruce promised him.

“She’s just a kid. Please…don’t,” He pleads, the tears searing down his ash-stained cheeks.

Joker leans down, bringing his face close to Jason’s. His mismatched eyes—one green, one red-brown—bore into his and the clown smiles, too wide, too cracked and broken, too bloody and green-green-green.

He sobs, cracking under everything. He can’t do this, he can’t.

“My, my. Even like this you still think you’re the hero. Batman would be proud if he didn’t hate you,” His murderer says, before his bony hand is cupping Jason’s face, calloused fingers dancing over his skin.

Jason clenches his jaw when it threatens to wobble and tremble, but knows the fear is shining in his eyes. Knows the clown can see it, knows he recognizes it in his baby-blues. He’s been here before.

They’ve been here before, together.

“But don’t worry my sweet boy, I’ll find a way to fix you. Nobody is going to hurt you. I won’t let them. Because I need you.” His voice is honeyed and threatening, curling and clawing and cloying into his head like a sickness. Joker pets his hair, gentle and caring, and Jason knows he means it.

He’s going to fix him. He’s going to heal him.

He’s going to save Jason.

“Don’t worry, sweet boy. We’ll see each other soon,” Joker pats his cheek with a crooked green-green-green smile. “I promise.”

His heart beats frantic to the words—fear, fear, fear—eyes unable to look away from Joker.

Jason believes him.

#unholy screeching and too much caffeine #my writing #the brainrot was literally killing me i wish i was joking #havent been able to FOCUS on anything else #i just cant get over divorced batjokes playing tug-of-war with their murderous and highly traumatized kid (jason)#im not entirely sure if i like this? it feels very rough draft to me #but i really just needed to get it down and out of my head so i can focus on my other wips T-T #would also love to hear anyone's thoughts if they have any<3 #might have missed some grammar stuff and yadda yadda but im kind of tired of looking at this:))))#i do think i want to add to it thou--maybe a scene with selina another with the batkids #ill probably come back to this after the final issue for the actual event (which comes out next week!) and joker's comic #i just really wanted to write how jason was dealing with all this; how he might take the fact that joker is saving his ass rather than bruc #but im not sure if it came across the way i wanted it to??#jason todd #jason todd and bruce wayne #jason todd and joker #writing

44 notes · View notes

mysterycitrus · 9 days

Text

u are dick grayson and there are two wolves inside u. one is bruce wayne’s devotion to control above everything and ur uncompromising, debilitating loyalty to him. the other is the titans love for u and how u conflate that with lacking trust in ur judgement and their own attempts at control. u cannot win. u will be eaten alive.

#im editing persephone and it’s killing me #the reason it’s taking so long is that it’s heavy and like. directly engaged with emotional abuse #imo anyway. it’s….. im very tired #bruce Wayne is terrible but not irredeemable because dick grayson loves him. that line to walk is perilous

263 notes · View notes

writewhatyouwanttoread · 3 months

Text

New fic has dropped!

This is the next part of the series I've created for Red is My Favorite Color that I'm calling The Hues of Robins because I decided to stick with the color theme. This fic is Baby Brothers are Red, Big Brothers are Blue and covers a lot of Dick's POV of the whole shit show and brings him and Tim into contact with Jason and Damian.

Enjoy!

#batman universe #baby brothers are red big brothers are blue #fanfiction #my fic #ao3 link #the hues of robins #damian wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #batfam #this fic doesn't compliment bruce #but it doesn't exactly bash him either #his relatioship with his kids is complicated #and dick is so very very tired of his shit

23 notes · View notes

creed-of-cats · 1 year

Text

There's something about that first meeting with Bruce, Terry and Powers that really gets me. Its so, so early in our titular heroes' partnership. They're still testing each other, weary about how the hell they're going to do this without someone ending up dead. But in this moment, Terry goes at Powers and the only thing holding him back is a single moment of looking at Bruce, and he backs off. This kid, who grew angry at a single comment from a high school friend or his dad being disappointed in him just a short time before, keeps his cool in front of the guy who murdered his dad. Just because just Bruce walking away says not now, not yet.

Terry obviously wants revenge on Powers, but I feel like it's not discussed much that Bruce does too. Batman is not the only legacy the Wayne's left in Gotham. Their company funded a lot of the welfare and social programs in a corrupt system, and it's an incredible amount of power in the hands of someone who doesn't care or is actively malicious. But that was the Bruce Wayne side of the mission. And the problem with that is that Bruce never really just let himself be Bruce Wayne. He had to have both or nothing, put every single part of himself into the mission.

Terry reclaims Batman, and with someone else under the cowl, Bruce finally reclaims Bruce Wayne. Powers and his hold over Gotham couldn't have been broken without Terry and Bruce working together, both in ways that would've been practically impossible without the other. When Blight dies, there's not even a question if they'll stop. Their redemption is already too far along.

I think part of the reason why Bruce kind of has this begrudging respect, this love/hate relationship with Terry's penchant for forgiveness is how it extends to him. I'd like to think that at first, Terry may have had resentment for what Bruce did with his company. If Bruce hadn't given up, Powers wouldn't have had the power to do what he did, and get away without legal consequence. But I'm not sure he would've held on to that resentment for long, or have it more then a thought in anger. Terry understands what causes someone to fall. As Terry said in the first episode, Something happened to you, and it wasn't just that you got old.

Bruce trains Terry, sees the potential in him to become Batman. But Terry also sees that Bruce could be better and pushes him to do so. He offers Bruce forgiveness and a second chance from his past failings. To make it up to the city he poured so much into and then abandoned. The really interesting thing is that Bruce doesnt offer that back, Terry's drive to be a better person is solely from himself. Bruce hates himself enough to stay in his misery, but Terry is the city's answer. So what? Life is not over. It's never too late. The push to take a risk and care again, about Batman, about himself, and about Gotham.

It starts here. When Bruce finally stands up to Powers, the figure of guilt and anger both if them share, and says no, I'm not going to let you do this anymore.

#sorry im rambling a bit #ah just really love this show #and everything it represents #it is such a trip going from rewatching clips of return of the joker to the first few episodes #because they are so close yet so far #but they already are helping each other from the very first episodes and its ahhhh #idk i have a lot of feelings about semi-sentient gotham finally having enough and sending terry to the mansion #in need but i prefer in love #wake up!!#here's another kid!!! he's going to roast you every five seconds!!#he's going to fly through the city and see the sunrise and make a stupid joke and you are going to feel alive again dammit!!!#sorry dear god im tired #batman beyond #bruce wayne #terry mcginnis #tumblr mobile pls dont mess up my tags #meta

136 notes · View notes

daughterofnyks2003 · 2 years

Text

Headcanon #2

Bruce won't allow Steph and Jason to go together on patrol since he had to get them out of jail for breaking into the zoo (they only wanted to get Damian a pet elephant for his birthday).

#batfamily #dc comics #jason todd #red hood #dc #stephanie brown #spoiler #cops were very confused when they saw batman being dad very tired of his kid's shit #and then gordon walked in and was like 'goddamit bruce this is third time this week'#jayroy #stephcass #damian wayne #robin #batman #bruce wayne and his army of children

339 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

koushisahoge

welcome to chili's

stemg4mapagkakatiwalaan-blog

GROUP 4 MAPAGKAKATIWALAAN

tt02

T.Tumblr

safespots

meine gedankenwelt

disdaidal

you are in the snooze mode