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taggingtim · 3 years

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Why I love Pre-Boot Tim Drake and why the Reboot has ruined him

I love Tim Drake. He is my favorite comic book character of all time. I’ve been really upset the past few days about what DC has been doing with him lately, and I thought it would be cathartic for me to write something up about it. (No, this isn’t a rant about Tim being bi/gay; it’s a much larger problem than that. But I’ll get to that in a bit.) Bear with me for a bit of history, first.

When I was a kid I loved the Batman Animated Series. I know this will lose me a lot of internet cred, but I always preferred the fourth season. In particular, I loved Tim Drake. He was fun and funny and I absolutely adored him. I used to beg my mom to take me to the mall so I could buy issues of Gotham Adventures. For my birthday one year my parents got me a subscription to the comic, and I was blown away by the idea that I could have comics MAILED to my HOUSE.

Around middle school I started collecting Marvel comics, mostly X-men stuff. I loved them, but when I started college I quit the hobby for financial reasons.

Fast forward a few years, and I felt I was financially stable enough to start buying comics again. Rather than going back to Marvel, I decided to give Batman comics a chance. I had no idea where to start, and when I found out my beloved Tim had his own comic series, I thought it was a perfect entry point into the Batman universe. I bought the complete series from a local comic shop and dove in.

Tim’s Robin series was exactly what I was looking for in a comic. He was very different from little Timmy Todd from BtAS, but I loved him. I built the rest of my comic collection around him, grabbing up every book that he was featured in, from Young Justice to Teen Titans to Batman, Detective Comics, Nightwing, Red Robin, and many others. I have random books from series like The Demon just because Tim was in them.

So why did I like Tim so much? What about this character made me so excited for more? I found in Tim something that I had never seen in a comic book before: character growth. Somehow, though he was written by many different authors over many different years, Tim managed to have a character arc that is consistent and makes sense. Sure, there were a few small bumps along the way, but on the whole Tim has always stayed true to his character, and he’s developed in a way that the big name characters, like Batman, never can.

When we’re first introduced to Tim, he’s a young teen who has been neglected by his parents growing up. He’s smart, healthy, and strong, but he lacks so much self confidence and has little sense of self worth. Tim notices Bruce’s increasing violence as he grieves for the loss of his son, and Tim knows he needs to step in and help. Batman needs a Robin.

For most characters, this would be the part where Tim put himself forward for the job. But he doesn’t. He seeks out Dick Grayson and begs him to come home instead. It’s only when Batman and Nightwing are in danger and there is literally no one else to help that Tim steps up and dons the cape. And once he does, he’s constantly plagued by self-doubt, terrified he will screw up and leave Batman worse than ever before.

From there, Tim undergoes intense training. He never begs to be in the spotlight, doesn’t push to go out on the streets before he’s ready. His goal is to help Bruce as much as possible.

Here’s where I started to fall in love with him. All that self-doubt, the constant need to be useful? That’s exactly what you would expect to see from a child whose parents had ignored and neglected him. He finally has a parental figure who sees him, who values him, and Tim does everything he can to make himself worthy in the hopes that Bruce will keep him around.

This is the first example of character consistency that we see with Tim. And it continues. When his mom dies and his dad is put in a coma, you see Tim struggle to come to terms with losing the people he loves, but never had a relationship with. Tim almost never mentions his mom after her death, because she just wasn’t present in his life. When his dad recovers and decides to stick around, Tim struggles to build a relationship with him. He’s plagued with guilt because he’s finally found the father figure he needed in Bruce, but he thinks that he’s supposed to feel that way for Jack. It’s a running undercurrent in their relationship that creates distance between them for years.

This is already so long, so I’m going to try to summarize a bit more. We get to watch Tim grow up. We see his awkward relationship with his first girlfriend, Ariana. He doesn’t know how to treat her; he’s never had the opportunity to observe a healthy relationship. But he tries so, so hard. All of Tim’s relationships are awkward, because he’s never had a model of a good one. Steph is a great match for him, because she’s very vocal about what she wants and needs, and she isn’t afraid to call Tim out when he messes up, which is exactly what Tim needs.

Big things happen to Tim. He’s stuck with Jean-Paul Valley, who slowly goes insane, leaving Tim to try to keep the city in one piece. He’s infected with the Clench, a plague that sweeps over Gotham and kills everyone it touches, and barely escapes with his life. His girlfriend is sexually assaulted, leaving him to deal with the fallout. His family moves out of Gotham, and he has to sneak back in during No Man’s Land to help. His relationship with his dad has intense ups and downs, resulting in him being sent to boarding school, punished in a variety of ways, and generally caused a lot of trouble in his life.

Then people start dying. Over the course of about a year in his life, Tim loses his girlfriend, his dad, a close friend, and his best friend, each of whom dies under tragic conditions. Tim’s grief is intense, and he is understandably traumatized by the losses. We see fundamental changes in his character. He changes his costume from something bright and cheerful to something darker that reflects his emotional state. He’s more subdued, his adventures a little more serious.

When Bruce first tries to adopt him, Tim literally creates an uncle and hires an actor to play him, just to avoid dealing with the situation. Bruce has viewed Tim as a son for years, so to him the adoption is an obvious step. For Tim, it feels like a betrayal of his father, and it takes a while before he’s ready to accept Bruce’s love, home, and a place in his family.

When Damian shows up on the scene, Tim really struggles with him, and not just because early Damian is a horrid brat who tries to kill Tim on multiple occasions. Tim has always felt the need to earn his place with Bruce, and Damian constantly throws all of Tim’s biggest fears in his face—he’s not wanted or needed now that the “real” son is here, he’s not worthy of a place in the family, he’s not good enough.

Tim tries to clone Conner, his best friend. He’s lost so many people, and he’s desperate to get them back. Conner was cloned to begin with and fully matured over a very short period of time; the technology clearly exists, so why can’t Tim use it to get his best friend back? And if he can get Conner back, why not the others he’s lost? He eventually gives up, but when he eventually gets access to a Lazarus Pit, he immediately wants to incorporate the waters into his process so he can revive his loved ones. With Dick’s help, Tim eventually decides to let it go, but it’s such a poignant moment for the character.

Then Bruce dies, and Dick takes Robin away. Tim switches to the Red Robin persona as he travels the world, alone, trying to prove that he was right. He has to deal with the trauma of losing another father, finds out that his girlfriend never died but let him hurt so much for so long. His brother and the only close friend he has left both think his grief has overwhelmed his sense and that he’s gone crazy. He’s utterly alone.

The Red Robin series is such a great culmination for Tim. He finds a place for himself as a hero, as a CEO. He gets parts of his family back—Bruce, Steph, Bart, Conner. He finally figures out who he wants to be and creates a place for himself.

This overarching character development is what I love about Tim. His many, many traumas impact his decisions, and you can clearly see how he changes over time as a result of them. I didn’t even go into his development as a leader from his early fumbling with Young Justice to his strong leadership of the Teen Titans, or how his relationships with Conner, Bart, and Cassie develop so fluidly and realistically over the years.

This is why I love Tim. Characters like Batman are static; nothing that happens to them will ever have a lasting impact, because in the end the character always returns to what they were. Tim, on the other hand, has changed and developed A LOT since his initial appearance. His growth has always been consistent and logical.

When the reboot happened, all of that character growth was lost. Tim was replaced with a jerk who betrayed his friends and cheated on his girlfriend. DC has basically retconned all of this and tried to turn Tim back into who he was, but by taking away all of the things that have happened to him over the years, Tim has lost SO MUCH.

I keep looking for my Tim in recent comics, and I just can’t find him. It breaks my heart, because I love him so much, and it feels like he’s lost to me forever. The most recent Young Justice comic series actually gave me hope; I felt like maybe, finally, someone was going to write Tim correctly. He had his primary friendships back, his relationship with Steph was developing (even if they seem to have completely dropped all the development around Steph’s decision to let Tim think she was dead). The actual book itself wasn’t fantastic, but it felt like they were headed in the right direction.

Over the last few days, I read the Batman: Urban Legends books. I actually read the Batman/Red Hood story first, which was fantastic. I was really excited to read Tim’s story (though I already knew how it ended). Jason’s character was handled so well, and he seemed to actually have some character development that will hopefully last. I anticipated the same for Tim.

But Tim’s story was awful. The plot was all over the place—kids are being kidnapped, so Tim has to join a pain cult to get them back? He’s somehow helping Oracle with computer issues while simultaneously questioning witnesses? He’s broken up with Steph, off camera, shortly after telling her how much he loves her, but Steph somehow thinks that they should have a caring relationship where Tim tells her what he’s feeling? Bernard has somehow become a good enough fighter to stand side by side with Robin? Tim STILL doesn’t have a code name? Why is everyone suddenly hounding him about what he wants to do with his life?

It’s just such a mess of a story. If it didn’t end with Tim agreeing to go on a date with Bernard, no one would ever have even mentioned it. There’s nothing particularly re-readable or enjoyable about it.

I actually liked that they brought Bernard back. I really enjoyed him in the original Robin series. It’s been a while since I read that part of the series (I’m actually working my way back through it now). I know Bernard always read as gay to me, yet somehow I felt like he was out of character in these books.

And then, the climax of the story. Tim is bi, or gay, or has at least agreed to go on a date with a boy.

If this had happened in the pre-boot, when Tim was Red Robin and had an actual character arc, I honestly wouldn’t have had an issue with it. I do think it would have needed a LOT more build up than it was given here. Tim has always been a very introspective character, and we’ve been party to so much of his internal monologue over the years. It seems very strange to me that such a huge thing just sneaks up on him out of nowhere when he’s never even thought about it before.

But more than that, this story just feels like the final death blow for the Tim I loved. The whole arc is about how Tim doesn’t know who he is or who he wants to be. What will his hero name be? Will he go to college? What is he going to do with his life? These are all great questions, and his answer to all of them is… date a boy?

Is this going to be his defining characteristic going forward? From here will we just see Tim exploring and discovering his sexuality? The Tim we have now doesn’t have a family, a team, a purpose, or even a code name. Why was this the thing that DC decided to give us? It feels like they wanted to make a gay Robin and decided it would be Tim because they didn’t know what else to do with him.

It’s stupid, but I honestly feel like I’ve spent the past few days grieving the loss of a loved one. The Tim that DC is presenting now is just not the person that I knew. Tim would never break up with Steph that abruptly for what he admits is no apparent reason. He would never say “just call me Robin, since Damian’s out of town.” Everything that I love about Tim seems to be gone, and in its place DC has given me a date with a boy.

Again, it’s not Tim being not-straight that I have an issue with. I’ve never read the character that way, but it’s something I can live with. My issue is the way it was handled. Why not make Tim an actual person first, and then explore his sexuality? Send him off to college! He’s obviously thinking about it! It’s the perfect opportunity to give him his own book. He can move to a different city, choose a new name, and DC can introduce a whole new set of characters. Figure out which parts of Tim’s backstory are still canon, and which have been dropped. Make him a person again, and then let him explore his sexuality.

I know this post is all over the place, and I don’t have time right now to go back and edit it. I just really needed an outlet for my frustration. Right now it feels like there are so many people who are so excited about Tim being bi/gay, but they don’t know anything else about him. I keep seeing people comment how DC has been “dropping hints for years!” with no evidence other than “he and Superboy were really close!” I guess I’d just really like to have some dialogue with other people who are fans of Tim, rather than fans of Tim-as-bi/gay or fans of Tim-as-straight.

Does anyone else feel this way? I’d honestly like to have a dialogue about it with other long time fans.

#Tim Drake #Red Robin #this is a long one #pre-boot vs reboot #this formatting is a little weird #Batman: Urban Legends 6 #Batman: Urban Legends 5 #Batman: Urban Legends 4

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rosesgonerogue · 4 years

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I Didn’t So Much Fall in Love - It Kicked Me in the Face

Chapter Nine

Masterlist

Tim hadn’t been sure about meeting Marinette so early in the morning - would he be able to wake up in time? But he wouldn’t miss this for the world, so obviously the solution had been simply not to sleep at all. Tragically his body was used to it at this point, but as long as he had caffeine he would be just fine.

He knew he was stupidly early to their date, but Tim wasn’t willing to waste a single moment with Marinette. He also didn’t have anything to do until his scheduled nap between the coffee date and his first meeting of the day. So, he ordered his coffee - he didn’t even have to speak to the barista, he just gave her the money. Every barista in Gotham knew his order by heart at this point.

The wordless interaction was perfect for so early in the day. Tim paid and sat down to wait for an hour. He hadn’t even gotten his coffee before he spotted Marinette and Leo skipping towards the shop, hand-in-hand. The intense flood of emotions just from seeing the two left Tim flustered - part of him wanted to look away, temper those feelings, but the larger part of him couldn’t, especially when she spotted him and waved. Like the fool he was, Tim flapped his arm back wildly and without abandon.

“Bonjour!” mother and son called in unison the second the shop door opened.

“Bonjour!” Tim greeted back before informing the barista, “I’ll be paying for them.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Marinette exclaimed. “I asked you out, this should be my treat!”

“I’ll let you pay for the next date,” Tim offered with a smile. He immediately regretted saying it, blushing lightly. Was the sleep deprivation really getting to him that badly already?

But, to his pleasure, Marinette just smiled from across the room. “Well, I suppose that means I’ll have to make sure that we have a second date. You know, because I need to make sure we keep everything even.”

Tim honestly couldn’t bring himself to care about the barista staring at them - if anything went public that they didn’t want to, he had lawyers he could call. Dangerously close to making a fool of himself, Tim turned his attention to Leo and asked in French, “What would you like? I can order it for you.”

Clearly thinking deeply, Leo said in perfect English, “I would like one small hot chocolate, please.”

“Which muffin do you want? You need something other than hot chocolate for breakfast,” Marinette said, also in English.

“Blueberry, please.”

Marinette placed her order as well, and Tim was attempting to reel in his shock as they moved to the table.

“So you can speak English already, Leo?” Tim asked.

“A little,” he said, ducking his head.

“He likes to practice when he’s alone,” Marinette mock-whispered. “The fact that he used English in front of you means that he trusts you a lot.”

Something almost felt like Tim got stabbed through the heart, but in a pleasant way. For once, Tim could understand Bruce’s compulsions to adopt every spare child.

The three settled into a comfortable conversation. Leo was largely content to nibble at his muffin while observing the adults with luminous eyes. Tim somehow got on the subject of his brothers, which Marinette was incredibly curious about as an only child. (If the stories ensured that Marinette could never see any of his brothers in a romantic light, so be it.)

“-and so Dick was trying to get Damian off of Jason, but if we just pulled him, Dick would take a good chunk of Jason’s arm with him. Dick tried tickling, poking, bribing, all to no avail. Jason was convinced that he was going to get rabies from Damian, and we just knew that this all needed to get resolved before Bruce and Alfred got home. Literally two seconds later, Alfred walks in-”

The story was interrupted by a loud crash and someone shouting, “This is a holdup! Everyone cooperate and no one gets hurt!”

It was just Killer Moth - he was such a joke in Gotham that the barista just kind of looked bored. His garishly purple costume was as atrocious as ever, and Tim even heard the sound of sirens coming closer already. He turned to Marinette with a wry smile and a snarky comment about the man’s costume, but looking at Marinette froze him.

She had crowded Leo up against the window, body positioned like she was shielding him from something. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her chest was heaving with erratic breathing.

Looking at her, at the lines of panic in her body, a piece of Tim shattered. All the light and joy he’d been feeling with her was gone, confirming the thought he’d been suppressing for a while.

Marinette didn’t belong in Gotham. It was too much violence and darkness for her to withstand, let alone Leo. Tim’s entire world was poison to the girl he was beginning to love.

*********

Marinette crushed Leo to her chest, all of her worst nightmares flashing before her eyes. She couldn’t let Leo be exposed to Hawkmoth, he wouldn’t know the horrors of-

His small hand touched her cheek, grounding her the slightest bit. “It’s not him, Maman. We’re safe.”

Deeply inhaling, Marinette though fort a few moments - the butterfly miraculous was securely locked away in the Miracle Box, and Gabriel Agreste was similarly locked away in a maximum security prison. When she opened her eyes, the villain in a frankly offensive costume was being hauled away by the police. She moved away from where she was crushing Leo, and slowly, hesitantly she met Tim’s eyes.

What could she say after having a full-blown PTSD episode? How was she supposed to explain her reaction? “I-”

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice lined with concern. Even though it seemed genuine, he was already looking at her differently. His blue eyes were shuttered, and a part of him closed off from her, likely forever.

Of course he wouldn’t want to deal with that much baggage on top of a child. Tim was a truly good man, but he was also a CEO with a limited amount of time in his day. They finished their breakfasts, but what little conversation they had was stilted. Leo kept glancing between the two of them, obviously upset by the way the adults were acting.

When it came time for them to leave, Marinette met Tim’s eyes and offered a feeble smile, even though she felt her heart fracturing in her chest. “I insist you go home and take a nap, Monsieur Tim. You’ve certainly earned it at this point.”

He smiled back, but it wasn’t without pain. “Don’t work yourself too hard. If I don’t see you before then, I look forward to showing your suit off at the gala. I’ll see you there, won’t I?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Marinette said, attempting to renew her pasted-on grin. “Now come, Leo. We need to say goodbye to Monsieur Tim so he can get a nap in before he has important business to tend to.”

Leo’s face creased as he glanced between the adults. “Why are you both acting weird? What happened?”

“Nothing happened, it’s just time for us to leave Monsieur Tim alone,” Marinette said, her smile beginning to collapse.

Glancing frantically between the adults, Leo looked genuinely distressed. “But you’re supposed to love each other.”

Marinette felt like she was going to pass out right there until she realized that Leo had spoken in the language of the Guardian. Tim couldn’t have understood him, but Marinette already felt exhausted.

In the same language, she said, “Sometimes it isn’t that easy, Leo. We can talk about this later. Say goodbye to Monsieur Tim.”

The goodbyes were brief, and Marinette felt like she was suffocating as she had to drag her obviously upset son away. She didn’t look back to see him, partially occupied with Leo’s uncharacteristic disagreement, but mostly because she didn’t want to see whether Tim’s sad eyes lingered on them or not.

Taglist:

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Note:

Sorry for the long wait on this chapter! Most of my time was spent writing for Jasonette July, and then I had to move back to college and start my new program, so it's been a little hectic. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy! If you want more mominette content, take a look at my submission for Jasonette July, How to be a Dad 101!

#timinette #timari #maribat #mominette

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ragingbookdragon · 4 years

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What A Flashy Romance PT. 1

Batsis x Wally West (Flash) Story

A/N: This title will still be the best title I’ve ever created, and there’s no if’s, and’s, or but’s, about it. Enjoy! -Thorne <3

She watched the two of them joke around before she scoffed and walked over to her father. “Does he have to be here?” Bruce didn’t look at her as he typed away on the Batcomputer.

“He came over to see Dick, (Y/N). Stop acting like a kid and act like a grown-up.” She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him.

“I’m not acting like a kid, dad. I’m acting like an adult who really dislikes her older brother’s best friend.”

“Why do you two even dislike each other? Did you two just not get along well?”

“Have you met Wally? He’s practically Dick 2.0, just more annoying.” Bruce’s response was cut off by Wally.

“Sticks and stones, Your Highness.” (Y/N) turned, directing her glare at him.

“Oh, go shove it speedster.” A smirk worked its way on his face, and he leaned forward.

“I think you’re just jealous of my speed.” (Y/N) barked a sarcastic laugh and placed her hands on her hips.

“Hardly.”

“The lady doth protest too much methinks.”

“At least my brain cells move faster than yours.”

“And whose to say they don’t?”

“Hmm, probably the person with more degrees than you could ever earn in your entire life.”

“At least I earned my degrees without my parent’s money.” The cave went silent at his comeback, and (Y/N) felt as though she’d been slapped in the face; she stepped forward, her tone threatening.

“Excuse me? What did you just say to me?” Wally crossed his arms and nodded at her.

“You heard me. You act all spoiled and entitled, and it’s solely because of your dad’s money.” She blinked and he continued. “Perhaps if you gained some humility and thought about people who were less fortunate than you, you’d be better off. But the truth is, you just act like a spoiled little brat who stamps her feet when she doesn’t get what she wants.” (Y/N) felt the air disappear from her lungs and all she could do was blink. Dick nudged Wally, who in turn looked at him and nodded; the two of them took off out of the cave, leaving (Y/N) with the rest of the family. Each of them watched as (Y/N) walked numbly to her bike, climbing on it; Bruce walked over and rested a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t take it to heart (Y/N).” She shook his hand off her shoulder and adjusted her cowl.

“I’m going to sleep at the apartment in the East Side tonight.” She looked at him. “I really don’t feel like seeing him again.” Bruce nodded and watched her leave before pressing a button on his cowl.

“You were out of line tonight Wally. Don’t let it happen again.”

“Yes sir.” The line cut and he turned to Tim and Damian.

“C’mon, we have patrol.” The two of them climbed on their bikes as Bruce climbed into the Batmobile, and they left the cave.

A Few Hours Later:

(Y/N) stepped out of the shower, picking up the towel and drying off before wrapping it around her and walking into the kitchen; she pulled out a water bottle from the refrigerator, taking a few sips before listening as the sound of a speedster coming into her living room echoed through the kitchen. She stepped into the living room seeing Wally pulling down the red cowl around his face; she watched the bluish lighting fade and then she walked up to him. He saw her coming and gave her a smile. “Hey (Y/N), I’m-” She cut him off as she squeezed the water bottle in his face, dousing him in water; he blinked at her then turned his face to the side and spit out the water that was in his mouth. He turned back to her and tipped his head. “Okay…I kinda deserved that one.” (Y/N) huffed and put her hands on her hips.

“Oh, you think?” Wally ran a hand down his face and gave a firm smile.

“I’m sorry (Y/N)…it slipped out before I could stop it.”

“You went way too far tonight Wally…I mean, I know that sometimes I say super rude shit…but that was downright disrespectful.” He shifted forward, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“I know, and I am sorry about it. I was wrong to say that.” He paused and reached up, cupping her cheek. “You are one of the humblest people I know…and you don’t wave around your dad’s money to get what you want.” He met her eyes, his look and tone solemn. “I’m sorry (Y/N).” She observed him for a moment before sighing and leaning into his chest.

“I know we have to keep up the antagonistic relationship but try and make the insults not too personal next time.” He shifted, wrapping his arms around her before he nodded.

“I will.” They were silent for a few moments before she pulled back and glance at him.

“So, what did you tell Dick this time?” Wally grinned and pulled away, reclining on the couch.

“Told him that Barry needed me in Central and took off.”

“And he didn’t question you moving in the direction of my apartment?” Wally winked at her.

“Carbon copy babe. It looks like I went to Central-”

“But instead you’re here.” (Y/N) looked at him. “Nicely done.” He placed a hand to his chest and gave a mock bow.

“Thank you, thank you.” (Y/N) tipped her head to the kitchen and said,

“Food’s in the oven. I’m going to go get dressed.” She began to walk away when a flash of blue appeared in front of her; (Y/N) looked up to see Wally smirking at her.

“You don’t have to do that babe…I wouldn’t dream of it.” (Y/N) huffed a laugh.

“You’re a perv Wally.”

“Maybe…but when I have a beautiful woman in front of me wearing nothing but a towel? Hmm…doesn’t take much.” (Y/N) fought to keep the grin from her face and he stepped forward. “Is that a smile I see?” She let out a giggle and stepped behind the couch, putting distance between them, not like it would do anything in the long run.

“No Wally West, it’s not a smile.” He moved in front of the couch and leaned forward.

“I think it is a smile and you’re just denying it.”

“Well I think you’re wrong.” She put her hands on the back of the couch, and Wally raised an eyebrow.

“You do know how fast I move (Y/N)…what makes you think I won’t catch you?” She shrugged, taunting,

“I like taking my chances Wally.” He placed his hands beside hers and closed the distance between them until they were almost touching noses.

“I’ve noticed you do…have you noticed that I also like taking chances?”

“You mean like the chances of having your ass handed to you by my brothers because we’re dating?” That stopped him and he stuttered out,

“Uh…yes?” (Y/N) snorted.

“Good answer.”

“I have my moments.”

“Key word moments.”

“That wasn’t nice (Y/N).”

“I’m not a nice woman Wally…you’ve been with me long enough to know that.”

“I have been…what’s it been, ten months?” (Y/N) pulled back and narrowed her eyes.

“Uh no. We’ve been together eleven.” He moved before she realized it, and she found herself pressed up against his chest; his hands gripped her wrists and held them and she tipped her head up, her voice laced with disbelief. “Wally West!” His lips brushed her ear as he pulled her tighter against him, her back brushing his chest.

“(Y/N) Wayne.” She swallowed, feeling her heart thump in her chest.

“You were stalling…that wasn’t fair.” His chuckle reverberated through her back as he murmured,

“When it comes to you (Y/N)…I don’t want to play fair…I want to win.”

“And you think you’ve won?”

“I don’t see you trying anything to win back the favor of the game.” (Y/N) twisted her head, flashing him a grin as she shifted her body, pressing herself into his front. Wally’s eyes widened and he sucked in a breath; (Y/N) smirked and quipped,

“I think I just did.” His eyes met hers and she moved one of the arms he held until it gripped the towel tied at her chest; she slipped a finger under the tie and pulled. It fell to the floor and she leaned her head back onto his shoulder, her tone taking on a sultry feel. “So, are we going to stand out here all night…or are we going to go play?” His eyes narrowed at her and she felt him lift her up and dash off towards her room.

The Next Day:

She felt the bed shift and her eyes snapped open to see him sliding the covers down as he threw his legs over the side of the bed. She reached out a hand, rubbing his hip and smiling when he jumped at her touch as she murmured, “Leaving so soon?” He turned around and gave her a small smile.

“Barry texted a few minutes ago. Said Bart was goofing off and needed someone to look after him. (Y/N) snorted.

“The kid’s the same age as Tim…can’t him and Conner hang out with Bart?” Wally shrugged as he pulled on his boxers.

“That’s probably where I’ll end up taking him.”

“I can text Tim and tell him to go meet up with them.” (Y/N) shifted, wrapping her arms around his waist. “And you can spend some more time with me.” Wally went silent as he tipped his head side-to-side.

“I dunno (Y/N)…Barry seemed pretty adamant that I needed to get Bart.” She pulled herself up, draping herself across his back as she pleaded,

“Please Wally…we don’t get to do this often.” (Y/N) looked at him. “Will you stay just a little while longer?” He stared at her for a few moments before sighing and nodding.

“Alright. Just make sure you call Tim and tell him to go get Bart and Conner.” (Y/N) grinned before grabbing her phone and dialing a number; they picked up after a few rings.

“Hello?”

“Timmy? Have you gone to bed yet?”

“Is that a serious question?” She sighed.

“Timmy you’re seventeen…you need more than a few hours of sleep every night.”

“Will you get to the point already?”

“Don’t be an ass to your older sister.” She paused and looked at Wally. “Do me a favor and go collect Bart in Central and then go get Conner.” There was a slight pause in the line.

“…And why should I do that?”

“Because four years ago I did you a favor and now I’m asking for it to be repaid…no questions asked.”

“When did I do you a favor?”

“When you lied to Bruce about being on a date, and instead you were out saving the world.” There was another pause.

“…Fine…I’ll go get them. Where am I supposed to take them though?”

“I don’t know Tim. You’re the son of a multi-billionaire…take the jet and hit up Tahiti for all I care. So long as you get them, I don’t care what happens.”

“Alright…whatever.”

“Bye Timmy. I love you.”

“Love you too.” (Y/N) hung up the phone and laid it back on the nightstand, turning to Wally.

“Looks like we have some time to ourselves.” He grinned and turned around, wrapping his arms around her as he pulled them down, then pulled the sheets back up; (Y/N) huffed a laugh as she adjusted herself in his arms. “I can’t believe I score us time and you want to go back to sleep.” Wally shrugged and buried his face in her hair mumbling,

“It’s like ten A.M. Who wouldn’t want to sleep some more?”

“Are you sure that stomach of yours isn’t going to rumble in a few minutes?” Wally pulled back and looked at her.

“My stomach is not-” He was cut off as his stomach gave a loud grumble, and he looked down at his stomach then back to her; a faint pink tinged his pale cheeks and he mumbled, “That wasn’t supposed to happen.” (Y/N) began laughing, and soon he joined her; after a few minutes, she nudged him.

“C’mon, I’ll go make us breakfast.” They made their way into the kitchen, and she began pulling ingredients out of the refrigerator; (Y/N) glanced at him. “What do you want to eat?”

“I’ll eat anything.” (Y/N) nodded.

“Yeah I know you will.” She glanced at him. “Remember the first time you came over to the manor? You practically obliterated our stocks of food.” Wally started laughing and she threw the hand towel at him. “My dad was so annoyed that he didn’t allow any speedsters over for like two months.” Wally nodded at that.

“Yeah, me and Dick had to hang out in Central after that.” He shrugged. “But things are better now. Dick’s doing better, I’m doing better.” He took her hand and rubbed his thumb across the back of it. “We’re doing better.” (Y/N) raised an eyebrow at him and questioned,

“What’s got you so sentimental Wally?” He shrugged again.

“I don’t know…the longer I’m with you, the more I love you.” (Y/N) smiled at his words until his face turned solemn and he looked at her. “And I don’t want to hide it anymore.” (Y/N)’s eyes went wide, and she pulled her hand back.

“Wally you do understand what’s going to happen if we tell, don’t you?” He nodded and opened his mouth to reply, but she cut it off. “We risk you and Dick falling out, me and Dick falling out, and pretty much any member of my family with you.” She paused. “I don’t think we should tell them right now.” He looked at her and she raised a hand. “Just for a little while longer.” They held eye-contact for a while before he sighed and reluctantly nodded.

“Alright…but just for a little longer (Y/N).” She smiled and moved forward, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Thank you, Wally.” He grinned and leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers before pulling away and moving to the bar.

“You can repay me by cooking food. Because I’m hungry…very hungry.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, but grinned and started cooking.

After breakfast, the two of them sat on the couch watching the TV when (Y/N)’s phone rang. She reached over and picked it up, groaning when she caught sight of who it was; Wally glanced down at her. “Who is it?”

“My over-achieving brother.”

“Jason?” (Y/N) huffed a laugh and shook her head.

“No Jason’s my hard-ass brother.” She showed him the screen. “It’s Dickie.” Her thumb slid along the bottom and she put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Hey kiddo.”

“Hey Dickie. What’s shakin’?”

“Nothing much, just called to tell you I’ll be up at your door in a few minutes.” (Y/N)’s eyes went wide, and she scrambled off the couch.

“WHAT?!”

“Are you okay?” She glanced at Wally and spoke rapidly.

“Why are you coming over?”

“Because I wanted to talk to you about Wally.”

“We don’t need to talk about Wally. I’m fine.”

“Well even if you don’t want to talk about him, I’m already walking though the doors, so I’m still coming over.” There was a slight pause. “Alright, I’m getting into the elevator. I’ll see you in a few.” He hung up the phone and (Y/N) motioned to Wally.

“You need to leave, and you need to leave now. Like right now.” He stood up and zoomed off to the bedroom, coming back fully dressed. (Y/N) began shoving him to the door. “Oh, we’re fucked. We’re so fucked.” Wally snorted at her and she glared at the back of his head. “Shut up before I shove my foot up your ass Wally. This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

If our asses weren’t on the line, I’d agree. But right now? We’re fucked.” (Y/N) threw open the door and looked outside, only to see the doors begin to open and Dick step out; her eyes widened, and she slammed the door, turning Wally around. “Oh my god! He’s here!” She began looking around until she saw the pantry. She looked at Wally then back to the pantry; his eyes followed hers and he shook his head.

“No.”

“Wally!”

“I am not hiding in your pantry.” The doorknob began to turn, and she shoved him forward.

“We don’t have a choice! Go!” He grunted and moved into the pantry, shutting the doors just as her front door opened; (Y/N) turned around and slapped a smile on her face. “Dickie!” He grinned and opened his arms; she ran into them and he lifted her up as he hugged her.

“Good to see you kiddo.”

“Dick, you saw me last night.” He set her back down and ruffled her hair, laughing when she batted his hand away.

“I know…but between you and Wally being jerks to each other, we didn’t get a whole lot of time to talk.”

“That’s because Wally’s an ass.” Dick sighed and made his way into the kitchen, setting his stuff down on the counter; her eyes darted to the pantry and back to him.

“Why are you and Wally so mean to each other?” He paused and motioned to her. “Did something happen that just made you two hate each other’s guts?” (Y/N) pulled a frown and crossed her arms.

“You mean besides Wally acting like a major-rager arse-biscuit? No, nothing happened.”

“Then why don’t you get along? He’s not a bad guy.”

“He’s an ass Dick.”

“And you can act like an ass too.” (Y/N) raised an eyebrow at him.

“So, you’re defending him?” Dick raised a hand and pointed at her.

“I didn’t say anything like that, and you know it.”

“Sure, sounded like it.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Can you just try and get along with him next time?” (Y/N) thought about it before shrugging.

“Sure, so long as he doesn’t act like the jack-ass he is.” Dick observed her for a moment before sighing.

“It’s progress.” He glanced around. “Did you cook something earlier?” (Y/N) nodded.

“I made myself breakfast earlier…had I known you were coming, I would’ve made enough for you.” Dick waved her off and rose from the bar, walking around the kitchen towards the pantry.

“You always have lucky charms stored for me.” His hand reached for the pantry door and (Y/N) reacted.

“Wait!” Dick stopped and turned to her.

“Is something wrong?”

“I-uh…there’s a café a few blocks from here that sells really good food.” (Y/N) moved forward and took his arm, leading him away from the doors. “How about we go eat there?”

“Didn’t you eat already?”

“Dick I can always eat.” He laughed and nodded, then grabbed his stuff from the counter.

“Alright. Let’s go then.” He shifted and moved her to the door; (Y/N) brought up a hand.

“I need to get my wallet and phone really quickly Dick.” She turned to him. “Go start the car, I’ll be down in a few minutes.” Dick nodded and walked out the door; (Y/N) closed it then let out a sigh of relief and slid down the door. Wally stepped out from the pantry and walked over to her.

“You okay (Y/N)?” She nodded weakly.

“I’m fine…just trying to calm my racing heart.” Wally smiled and knelt beside her.

“Have fun going to breakfast.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes but gave him a brief kiss.

“Dick and I will leave in a few, then you should be able to leave.” He nodded and they rose from the floor, staring at each other until Wally spoke softly.

“I really want to tell your family that were dating. You know, that right?” (Y/N) sighed and nodded.

“I know…but right now we can’t.” She looked at him. “You know exactly how angry Dick and Jason would get if we spilled.” He nodded then looped an arm around her waist.

“I love you (Y/N) Wayne.” She smiled at him and pressed her lips to his, then pulled back and said,

“I love you too Wally West.” He watched her leave the apartment before sitting down and waiting a few minutes, then he left and locked the door behind him, making his way down the steps. Wally stepped outside the apartment complex and made his way down the street when someone grabbed him from an alleyway. He began to fight back when the sound of a cocking gun, and the press of cold metal against his stomach made him stop and he looked up to see someone he was not prepared to see standing there.

“…Jason?” His head tipped to the side and he questioned, “What the hell man?” Jason’s teal eyes narrowed, and he pressed the gun harder against him and when he spoke, his voice booked no arguments.

“You and I are going to have a little chat Wally.”

“About?” Jason leaned forward, getting in his face.

“About why the fuck you’re leaving my sister’s apartment.” Wally’s eyes widened and he whispered,

“Oh crap.”

“Oh, crap is right.” He paused. “Your answer to my question better not be what I’m thinking the answer is.” His words were dark and cold when he spoke again. “Because if it is, I’m going to shove this gun up your ass and unload the clip.” He looked at Wally. “So, let me ask you this, are you sleeping with my sister?” Wally shut his mouth and narrowed his eyes.

“And if I am?”

“You’d better pray you aren’t.” Wally cleared his throat and stood up straight, no longer afraid of the gun.

“You know I can move faster than you.”

“I know. But I also know how to catch you. Answer the question Wally.”

“Your sister is an adult.”

“My sister is my baby sister. You’re also Dick’s best friend. Did that not slip through your mind when you started sleeping with her?”

“We aren’t sleeping together Jason. We’re dating.” Jason’s jaw clenched and he stepped back, allowing Wally to move; he pointed at him.

“You tell Dick, or I will.” Jason turned and walked off but stopped and turned back around. “And I can assure you West…you don’t want me to tell Dick.” Wally watched him leave and then he rested his head back against the wall before sighing and mumbling,

“(Y/N)’s so not gonna be happy about this.”

733 notes · View notes

bigskydreaming · 4 years

Text

I’ve often thought that a common sentiment in the public that people carefully avoid mentioning around Bruce - but not around Dick - is that Dick was adopted as a ‘consolation prize’ after Jason’s death. Ugly thought, true, but from the perspective of a public who loves gossipping about the Waynes and who have made their opinions of Dick all too clear in both canon and fanfic.....like, from their perspective, how must it look that Bruce raised Dick from the age of eight without ever making him anything other than his ward....and then they had that big fight apparently, that led to Dick moving out and basically being persona non grata around Gotham and never seen coming home.....whereas Jason was adopted by Bruce within months and was constantly seen being called son by Bruce, etc.

And then again as far as the public knows, Dick Grayson only ‘comes back’ after Jason’s death and he and Bruce seem to slowly be working on rebuilding their relationship....and a couple years after Jason died, and several years after Dick’s wardship expired on his eighteenth birthday without any mention from Bruce Wayne as to his now ex-ward’s status or even where he was or what he was doing with his life....no indication that Bruce was ever seen celebrating Dick’s eighteenth birthday or expressing any sentiment on what was effectively the severing of their legal ties at that point, and the end of Bruce’s obligations to Dick, no sign of him in Dick’s life or vice versa in years to follow, Dick rarely if ever seen keeping company with his somewhat little brother Jason....

Its only years after all of this that Bruce finally adopts Dick.....or like, people guess that’s what happens? Its not clear, exactly, because one day Dick’s got no legal ties to Bruce and hasn’t for years, and the next he’s been adopted. There’s no real scoop, nobody that got the exclusive about the event, because as far as anyone can tell....there was no event. There’s no story. Just he wasn’t adopted and now he was, and....neither Dick Grayson nor Bruce Wayne seem to have a comment on this, when it happened, WHY it happened, why NOW? After all this time? Why not earlier? Its just...there. Bruce Wayne, who famously throws parties for anything, pretty much, makes no official announcement about his son’s new status, there’s no party or celebration to honor it or mark the occasion, mark the adoption as noteworthy whatsoever.....

Because after all, it was just Dick and Bruce in the Batcave, Bruce handing him the adoption papers to sign and saying this is long overdue and doesn’t change anything and he’s always felt this way anyway.....

And to a guy who has not so secretly wanted this for YEARS, who has had Bruce literally throw his own knowledge of that not so secret yearning of his YEARS ago and thus who KNOWS full and well that its absolutely BULLSHIT to claim that ‘he’s always felt this way and knows Dick always knew that and didnt need a piece of paper so its not like this changes anything’.....like this had to be anticlimactic as HELL, but what do you say to that? How do you tell the dad who has caused you no small amount of angst and hurt and uncertainty as to where you even stand in his life that no, he didn’t take it for granted that Bruce felt this way, like, say, when Dick’s eighteenth birthday came and went with no sign of Bruce, no attempt from Bruce whatsoever to express in any way that he still wanted Dick in his life, still wanted to BE in Dick’s life, even without them legally bound to each other any longer.......how do you give your dad any of the well-earned shit he DESERVES for taking his precious time on this due to his own rejection and inadequacy issues in the moment he is at least FINALLY offering the thing you’ve wanted for so long and saying at least some of the things you’ve spent so long wanting to hear.....like...you can’t? Not then at least?

Whatever the intentions of the writers, the sheer anticlimacticness surrounding Dick’s actual adoption kinda....backed him into a corner where he couldn’t really express any emotion other than gratitude or happiness over the adoption without coming off as a total ungrateful asshole.....even though you kinda gotta wonder.....what did he tell his best friends about it? How did he relay the story to Roy, to Donna, etc.....the people who actually KNOW what this meant to Dick and how badly he wanted it, and would want him to dish on every single moment of what happened, they wanted to savor it.....and thus who would of course know the second he hesitated that something was wrong, Bruce had done something to fuck up even Dick’s biggest wish, if Dick was obviously trying not to say anything bad or negative or hint that it wasn’t like.....how he’d envisioned it or what all he’d been hoping for....but also not wanting to tell them the truth without embellishment, because you KNOW Donna and Roy and Wally and Garth would just be sitting there like:

“Wait. Hold up. You’re telling me you and Bruce had just got done with a case, you were getting ready to go home, you’re both STILL IN COSTUME, and in the BATCAVE, freaking ALFRED isn’t even present, and Bruce just.....kinda hands you the papers and pen and says here, I know I should have done this years ago but I really mean it, be my kid please? THAT’S IT????”

Yeah. I do NOT see that retelling ever having played well with the Titans, which makes me suspect Dick kinda...delayed in telling them until he could sneak it in and mention it as something that had happened awhile back and he’d just been too busy with hero stuff to make a big deal about it at the time and now it felt weird like it’d been too long. Because imo he wouldn’t have WANTED the Titans to weigh in on how they REALLY felt about how Bruce went about it, because he was likely trying to hold on to all the POSITIVE emotions it’d kindled for him and not like......focus so much on the Bruce-ness of it all making the approach something of a letdown after all the time he’d spent waiting and wanting.

And like.....when you’ve gone about adopting the kid you have a monumental track record of fucking up on telling how you really feel about him....in such a way that he probably felt awkward directly relaying to his best friends in a ‘omg this is huge news, tell us everything’ kinda story....

YOU’VE FUCKED IT UP.

But anyway, point is, Dick’s actual adoption came and went with such a HUGE lack of fanfare in any and every community, superhero and public, and probably didn’t even become KNOWN until someone went to write something about them and got fact-checked like “according to public records, Richard Grayson IS actually the legally adopted son and heir of Bruce Wayne as of this date etc etc”.....and when THAT news hit the public, how else were they going to view things?

Like, a gossip hungry readership not known to view Dick Grayson favorably were never going to think “oh its probably due to personal feelings about his parents and not wanting to replace them, I bet he was the one who never wanted to be adopted before now, that makes sense.”

LOLOL. Like. No. That’s not how the DC public sees it, I bet you anything.

Nah, in my head its FAR more likely that they looked at all of that and did THIS math instead:

Bruce Wayne takes in a young circus boy out of the goodness of his heart, raises him from the age of eight, but never makes him anything other than his ward. Good thing too, probably, given they have some sort of falling out when the Grayson boy is older, and the kid leaves town and good riddance, we hear he’s up in New York partying it up with models and has some alien superhero girlfriend, but nobody’s heard so much as his name mentioned around Wayne in ages so he’s not exactly Gotham news anymore. But no matter, Brucie’s gone and done it again, taken in another young orphan but this time its a local boy he adopted as his son right from the word go! Now that’s a story!

PLUS

Bruce Wayne’s adopted son Jason tragically dies all too young. In the wake of his loss, it appears Brucie’s making an attempt to mend fences with his former ward, or more likely, he’s gone running back to cozy up to Daddy Warbucks in an attempt to milk some more money out of that softie’s heart with a well-rehearsed conciliatory gesture.

PLUS

A couple years later, people start finding out that Bruce Wayne apparently did actually legally adopt Dick now, after all this time, though neither has so much as mentioned it publicly until now, for some reason.

EQUALS

My guess for how the public views it:

Bruce Wayne took in Dick and raised him as his ward but never really felt THAT way about the kid, not like Jason Todd-Wayne who he took one look at and knew ‘this is my kid’....but after losing Jason tragically, and with his family-owned company and board of directors being after him for some time about the importance of an heir in the optics of the dynastic corporate sphere.....Brucie probably decided to try and make the most of the one remaining sorta son he had left, and make a go of reconnecting with the former ward who was CLEARLY never his first choice to adopt as his proper son and heir before, but now apparently is good enough.

*Shrugs* That’s my honest bet for something Dick’s probably heard about his adoption more than a few times: that he was adopted as a consolation prize after Bruce’s ‘real son’ Jason died and Bruce felt driven to try and surround himself with whatever semblance of family he had left.

I mean, what else are you gonna get when you offer the public a paparazzi-enabling, glamorous sneak peek of your life at all other times, and absolute nada for the occasion of finally adopting the kid you’ve raised since age eight with absolutely NOTHING to show for it, not even a family friend who can be quoted as having been there to bear witness?

tl;dr - After all the damn parties and galas Bruce trotted Dick out to whether he wanted to or not, because that sorta thing is just what came with being a Wayne (the Wayne Dick wasn’t), the :LEAST Bruce owed Dick after years of estrangement and doubts directly inspired by him and his unwillingness to even OFFER Dick the option of adoption if he wanted it.....was to invite him to a party celebrating Dick himself and showing the world once and for all that he very much did want Dick in his life and as a part of his family, nothing less.

Dick’s never hated PARTIES, Bruce you giant dumbass. Dick hated going to parties where people talked about how he didn’t belong or how he was nothing but a PR charity stunt for Bruce.

Dick, in point of fact, might have very very MUCH enjoyed an actual public celebration where for the first time in his life, NO ONE could claim he didn’t belong or try and insinuate he was nothing but a charity case to Bruce. An event where the only point was to show tangible proof to all the naysayers: Bruce Wayne is Dick Grayson’s father and Dick is his son, and not a damn thing less.

THAT gala, Dick might have been more than happy to attend.

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the--sad--hatter · 5 years

Text

Phantom Pain (9)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

PAIRING - Bucky X Reader

WARNINGS - Bad Habits and Rough Sex, Angsty and Dark AF.

DESCRIPTION - Everybody in the world knew of you, but not who you really were. Some called you a vigilante, some called you a criminal and some called you a hero but all of them called you The Phantom. Only two people knew your real identity and they swore to never tell anyone but when The Avengers need to infiltrate a high-security facility, Bruce Banner deduces that you’re the only one who can pull it off. That decision puts you and Bucky Barnes on a path you can’t turn back from, even if neither of like where it’s leading.

Chapter Nine - Tapping At My Chamber Door

You were awoken by a soft tapping at the door and you managed to get up, groaning all the way and hunched over.

“Tis some visitor tapping at my chamber door.” You called.

You swung the door open to see Bruce, stood with a tray and a concerned expression.

“Tis the Hulk and nothing more.” You said and he grinned at you and came in.

“I brought you some breakfast and some drugs that will speed along the healing process. I really should have had you in for an X-Ray last night but I thought you needed the rest more.” He said.

“Don’t worry about it Bruce, I’ve had worse.” You assured him and followed him to the sitting area part of the room/suite you’d been put in.

“Yes, I remember. I still haven’t quite recovered from that incident.” He remarked.

For the sake of your ribs you stifled a laugh as you remembered the incident he was referring to.

“Friday, have Tony look over the statistics from the latest remodel, why are the light off in here?” Bruce asked the AI.

“They were too bright.” You whispered and he jumped slightly.

He followed the sound of your voice and found you sprawled across a table.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, slipping on something wet and nearly falling over.

He glanced down and saw that the liquid was too dark to be water. He looked at you in worry and panic and you grinned sheepishly.

“I might have got a little bit shot.”

“Your face was amazing.” You sniggered, wincing when it jostled your ribs.

“You were bleeding everywhere, all over my equipment.” He grumbled.

“Sorry.” You said sweetly, accepting the tea he passed you.

You were generally more of a coffee drinker but between Bruce and West, you’d learned to appreciate Early Grey tea.

“So, Barnes?” Bruce began timidly.

“Yeah, he knows about The Phantom.” You said, sighing wistfully as you remembered the moment he’d pulled your mask off and the kiss that followed.

“About that... He’s not the only one. Natasha figured it out.” Bruce told you and you paused with the cup halfway to your lips and gave him a helpless look.

“God dammit.” You swore.

“I’m sorry. This is all my fault, I was the one who called you in, not Tony.” Bruce said regretfully.

“It’s not your fault Bruce. I could have said no but I didn’t. I wanted to help but I wanted to stay hidden as well and maybe I can’t have both.”

“It’s one thing for a Vigilant to come forward and sign the Accords it’s another entirely for Ross’s niece to do it, especially since the reason she has abilities in the first place is because of a weapon he was building.” Bruce said reasonably.

“Well, it’s not possible to keep it secret for much longer. Bucky’s probably already told The Captain.” You pointed out.

“Actually he hasn’t but speaking of that, how did Bucky hot you with the Shield and catch you? Why didn’t you ghost away?” Bruce reprimanded you.

“Oh! I forgot to mention... turns out Vibranium is like my Kryptonite.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

In your entire life, never once had West missed a call from you. He always answered, even at 4.30am. This was the sixth time you had called in the last five minutes and he still hadn’t picked up.

“Friday, can you trace a phone with just the number?” You asked.

“Miss King, the number you’re trying to call is currently located in the compound.”

“What?”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“You brought my butler in for questioning?” You yelled at Steve as you burst into the meeting room.

Thankfully, Tony saw you storming towards The Captain and grabbed you around the waist.

“Don’t punch Cap, I know you and you’ll immediatley regret it.” Tony warned, letting you go when you hissed in pain.

“We brought your fathers butler in to answer some questions.” Steve said calmly.

“West doesn’t know anything about Hydra, at all. He wouldn’t.” You snarled furiously at him.

“All due respect Miss King, you didn’t know your own father was Hydra, your judgement can’t exactly be trusted.” Steve pointed out.

“My judgement? You didn’t know the government agency you worked for was Hydra, why should I trust yours?”

“She’s got you there Cap.” Tony sniggered.

“Calm down. Everyone with connections to Alexander King is being interviewed and Albert West has been his butler and confidant for over thirty years.” Steve told you.

“Which is longer than I’ve been alive. I’ve known West my entire life, and I’m a hell of a lot closer to him than I am to my father. He is not Hydra. He’s a good man and he’s my friend. You had absolutely no right to drag him in here without telling me. Does he even have a lawyer with him?”

“If he’s innocent, why would he need one?” Steve rebutted.

“To make sure he’s being treated fairly, it’s not only the guilty who need legal counsel you moronic son of a bitch. Did they forget to unfreeze your braincells when they thawed you out?” You snapped.

“That’s enough.”

You and Steve whirled round to look at Bucky who was the one who had spoken.

“Steve, you should have warned her. Domniţă, show some respect.” Bucky told the two of you and you and Steve glared at each other.

“Captain, West is important to me. He’s my closest friend in the world, he’s family. More so than any of my blood and I am 100% certain he isn’t Hydra. However I understand that you don’t know me so my word means very little, I just need to know that you will treat him fairly.” You said.

“We’re just talking to him about what he knows about your fathers business. Even if he’s not Hydra, he may still have valuable information.” Steve explained.

“Can I see him?” You asked.

“I’m sorry but no. Not until we are certain he isn’t guilty.”

“Come on Cap, I’ll take her down myself and Friday will monitor the conversation.” Tony bartered on your behalf.

Steve sighed and dropped his shoulder.

“Five minutes.” He agreed and you immediatley turned and hurried out of the room, only turning back when Bucky glared at you.

“Thank you Captain Rogers.”

“I’ll take you.” Bucky said.

“I’ve got her freezer burn.” Tony cut in, stepping between you and Bucky and throwing his arm around your shoulders.

“What’s going on with you and the one armed wonder?” Tony asked as soon as you were out of earshot of the meeting room.

“None of your business Snark.”

“My compound, my prodigy, my business.” He retorted.

“I am not your prodigy.” You scoffed.

“Who said I was talking about you? Maybe I’m mentoring Barnes to greatness.”

The mental image was too funny not to giggle and Tony looked smug.

“There’s the smile that’s sold a million newspapers.”

“I hate you.” You huffed.

He knocked on a door and after a moment it swung open to reveal Natasha Romanov and Wanda Maximoff. You would have been intimidated and impressed but you could see West behind them and they moved out of the way as you flung yourself into the room.

“West!”

He stood up and you briefly noted he wasn’t cuffed to the table at least as he caught you.

“Miss, I’m glad you’re ok. I’m so sorry about your father.” He said softly and you could hear the guilt that was weighing him down.

“It’s not your fault, I didn’t see it either.” You comforted him.

He pulled back and checked you over.

“Are they treating you fairly?” He demanded, his expression hard and you just knew if you said no he’d take on The Avengers to right the perceived wrong.

“West, they didn’t bring me in. I already knew about dad. I helped them bring him in.” You admitted.

West looked taken aback for a moment before he positively glowed with pride.

“I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been, I know you love your father despite the fact he has never earned it. I’m proud of you Queenie.” He said.

The use of the nickname spoke volumes. It was something your mother used to call you and him using it now was his way of telling you she would have been proud as well.

“Just tell them anything you know about my fathers associates. You might know something helpful even if you don’t realise it.” You said.

“Of course Miss, whatever you think is best.” He said seriously.

“West, my fathers going to prison. You don’t have to call me Miss, you don’t work for him anymore.”

“You’ll always be my little Miss, why do you think I stuck with that man for so long?” He asked like you should have known that.

You had always wondered why somebody as kind and caring as West worked for a man like Alexander King but you thought maybe your father had once been a better man, before your mother died. It never occurred to you that West stayed with the family for your sake and your eyes stung as you realised the depths of the loyalty in the man stood in front of you.

You wrapped your arms around him again.

“You’re my family West, always.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“What are you doing in here?” You asked the man in what was now your room.

There were boxes and suitcases everywhere and you realized that it was your stuff from your apartment. Tony must have had somebody go and collect it for you.

“Your cat’s an asshole.” The man said, turning around.

You realised it was Clint Barton, Hawkeye. His ridiculously impressive arms were covered in scratches.

“Frankenstein? You tried to pick him up?” You asked fearfully.

“You called your cat Frankenstein?” He snorted in amusement.

“Well, he’s Frankenstein’s monster but I call him Frank and he’s not my cat. He’s just some temperamental, violent freak who followed me home.” You admitted.

“He’ll fit right in here then.” Clint said.

“Thanks for getting him.” You said gratefully, as the cat in question came bounding over to you and made a strange screaming meowing sound to let you know he wasn’t happy.

“Don’t thank me, Nat told me to get your things. Don’t know what you did to make her like you but she’s quite taken with you.” He informed you, throwing himself onto an armchair.

“I’ve said all of two sentences to her.” You said in confusion.

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t know everything she needs to know about you. Trust me, she likes you.” Clint said, smirking at you.

“Huh, maybe I let of some kind of pheromone that makes former Soviet assassins decide to stalk me.” You mused.

“Winter soldier giving you trouble?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” You grinned.

“What happened to you ribs?” Clint asked out of the blue.

“Had a little to much to drink and tripped into the bathtub.” You said sheepishly.

“You’re a damn good liar, I’m impressed.” He said, his smirk getting wider.

You sighed and rolled your eyes, throwing your arms into the air in exasperation.

“Fine. I guess I can’t keep this a secret anymore.” You grouched, walking over to the couch and throwing yourself onto it.

Clint raised his eyebrows as you did, because rather than walk around the boxes you walked through them.

“You’re The Phantom?”

“Yeah, don’t tell anyone.” You mumbled into the couch cushions.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Natasha: *Watches reader kick her own father in the throat* Natasha: I'm keeping her.

Also, for those who liked West and hoped he wasn't Hydra... He's innocent! Yayyyyy!

You can ask to be added to or removed from tags at any time folks, just comment or inbox :D @drdorkus @gravedollie666 @sadsoldat @bigplantdaddy @moodyruth @likes-to-smell-books @shirukitsune @inquisitor-selvala @myfandomlife-blog @markusstraya @adeleoctobre @vajeenparty @sexyvixen7 @love-nakamura @buckitybarnes @littledeadrottinghood @pinkisokay @jsmith509 @brownlee-22 @angieptt @thosesexytexasboys @liveonce-sodoitright @tarastudiesalot @spnrvt @dahkness @dilaila95 @rororo06 @mizzzpink @release-the-cathyrchkn @thefridgeismybestie @fairislesheets @strangersstranger @life-wanderer @uuuuuuuuggggghhh @curiositykilledthepepe @musingpredilection @boxofteenageideas

#hattersmarvelverse #bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes #Avengers x Reader

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hysterialevi · 6 years

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Legend pt. 2

Author’s note: Sorry about the long wait for this one. I got a bit stumped for a while, but it’s finally finished and I hope you enjoy the end result. Thanks for all your support, and as always, love you guys. Stay awesome.

From Bruce’s POV

WAYNE MANOR

THE NEXT MORNING

John let out an astonished gasp upon entering the manor, his jaw dropping open as he viewed the inside with an amazed expression.

“Wow, Bruce!” He exclaimed as he observed the chandeliers hanging above, craning his neck backwards. “I knew you were rich, but...but this...!”

John spread his arms out and twirled around like a top, laughing vigorously to himself.

“This is...INCREDIBLE! Hehehe!”

I smiled gently at the man, adoring his eccentric display of joy from a distance while he explored his new home.

With the Agency and police constantly trying to arrest John, I agreed to let the man live with me for a while in hopes of protecting him. It was too risky to leave him alone during these times, and the last thing I wanted was for someone to catch him while I wasn’t looking.

Aside from Alfred, John was all I had left. He was my closest friend, my partner in fighting crime, and one of the few people I knew I could trust for sure. He had been with me through thick and thin, and always had my back no matter what. I needed him by my side.

If Waller or anyone else wanted to take him away from me, they were going to have to put up a fight. And a damned good one.

“I’m glad you like the house, John,” I said, strolling up to him. “As much as I appreciate the solitude, I have to admit it does get lonely here sometimes. It’ll be nice having you around.”

John put a dramatic hand over his heart and wiped away a fake tear, tilting his head at me in a touched manner.

“You are truly the kindest man I’ve ever met, Brucie. I might just shed a tear.”

I grinned at that, slipping my hands into my pockets. “You’d be the first to say that in a while. I’ve almost forgotten the days when Gotham didn’t hate the Waynes. So, any idea where you want to sleep?”

The clown shrugged, slightly confused. “Um...in the bedroom...?”

A chuckle escaped me. “Well, yes, but which one? There are seven of them.”

John’s eyes popped open. “You have seven bedrooms?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed, “along with two kitchens, a library, a gymnasium, a basketball court, and a movie theater. And there’s obviously also the Batcave.”

The other man clapped happily and rubbed his hands together out of excitement, unable to contain himself.

“This is unreal, Bruce. It’s like I’m in paradise. I went from living in an abandoned subway station...to the fanciest manor in Gotham! Ah, it’s so nice having all this...space! Not to mention that Bane and Harley aren’t here to argue about nonsense all day long. We have to arrange a move night sometime! Tell me, are you more of a beef jerky or corn bites guy?” John shrugged. “Ah heck, I’ll just bring both! Hehe!”

“Just be sure to keep a low profile,” I reminded him. “The Agency can’t know you’re here. Otherwise, they’ll tear the place apart brick-by-brick, and take you back to Arkham. Or worse -- slap a collar on you like the rest of the Pact. If you ever want to leave the house, there’s a another exit through the Batcave that will draw much less attention than the front door. And try not to go out by yourself, got it? I wanna make sure you’re safe.”

John nodded, giving me a thumbs-up. “Got it!”

“Great. Now, why don’t you go set up your room?”

He smirked at me, picking up his bags. “Oh, I’ve been so excited for this moment, Brucie! Decorating my own room in Wayne Manor,” John sighed in satisfaction. “This is a dream come true. You and I -- we are gonna have so...much...fun!”

Hurrying up the elegant staircase with his belongings, John practically glided to his room as Alfred passed him on the way down, giving the clown a subtle gesture of acknowledgement before making his way to me.

Despite the smile on the butler’s face and his straightened posture, I could still tell something wasn’t quite right, and as soon as John’s echoing cackle disappeared down the corridor, the old man broke his charade, voicing his concerns.

“I mean no disrespect towards your friend, Bruce,” he said lowly, “but are you sure it’s a good idea to have him stay here?”

Alfred and I wandered over to a more secluded corner of the manor, hoping to keep out of earshot while I explained the situation to him.

“I can’t just let John roam around Gotham by himself, Al. He’s not exactly the type of person to lay low, and the Agency’s been keeping an extremely close eye on him lately. One wrong move, and he’ll be behind bars. I have to watch him.”

The butler didn’t appear convinced.

“...Well, perhaps that’s not such a bad thing,” he argued. “I know you care for him, but in the end, John is a criminal. And he must be brought to justice. We can’t ignore that, Bruce. Batman can’t.”

I paused for a moment, unable to deny that Alfred had a point.

Crossing my arms, I checked to make sure John was still out of sight.

“Look, I know John’s made mistakes--”

“--He’s murdered people.” Alfred corrected.

“--But...” I continued, “I don’t think he’s beyond saving. Not yet, anyways. You said it yourself, Alfred. He’s my friend. I can’t just give up on him and toss him in jail. He’s...he’s all I have left. I mean, Tiffany’s with the Agency, Lucius is gone, and now Waller’s threatening to take John away, too. I have to at least try to help him.”

Realizing that there was no way he was going to sway my mind, Alfred let out a defeated sigh and dropped the subject, evidently anxious about what would come in the future.

“...Very well, sir. I trust your decision, but please...proceed with caution. Soon, the time will come when you must choose which is more important: your friendship with John, or your duty as Batman -- and I don’t want your judgement to be hindered.”

I gave him an assuring nod, heading upstairs to check on my friend.

“Don’t worry, Alfred. As much as I care about John, I’m not blind. If I think he’s fallen beyond repair, Batman will be the first one to step in. But he’ll be brought to justice the right way. I won’t let Waller lay a finger on him, no matter what happens.”

From Oswald’s POV

THE STACKED DECK

“The hunt for the Joker continues,” Jack Ryder reported, his voice barely audible over the rock music filling up the bar, “and the police are desperate to find any leads that could help them find the perpetrator. Fortunately for Gotham, the Joker seems to have gone underground recently and has even ‘vanished’ according to some. In the past few days, there have been no reports of any Joker-related crimes, and the green-haired clown hasn’t been spotted by anyone. Normally, a moment of peace such as this would be appreciated, but one can’t help wondering if the reason the Joker has disappeared...is he’s planning something bigger. But of course, we will keep all you viewers out there informed with any updates. I’m Jack Ryder, and you’re watching Gotham TV.”

I softly chuckled at the news and glanced downwards at my beer bottle, happily taking a sip as I watched the chaos unravel in Gotham’s news. At this point, I wasn’t even upset by all the mayhem slowly tearing down this city, and a part of me was even thrilled.

I had learned enough about Gotham to know that its citizens were far from innocent, and the ones who were died ages ago. The only people who survived in this godforsaken place were men in suits, and those controlling them from the shadows. As far as I was concerned, Joker’s hell-raising rampage was nothing but some well-earned karma, and I couldn’t help but laugh. I only hoped that karma also hit Bruce Wayne.

I was still having difficulty imagining that billionaire pretty boy as Batman. Not only did the two of them act nothing alike, but they were also on complete opposite ends of the spectrum.

The Waynes hurt people; killed them, even. Anyone who was brave enough to oppose them got murdered or thrown in Arkham by Thomas...and yet, his son grew up to become a vigilante. Someone who fought against people like his father. Why?

Maybe this was Bruce’s way of making amends? Maybe he knew the truth about his dear, old dad all along, and wore the mask so he could do more good for the world without risking his reputation. Like he did when Joseph bullied me as a kid.

Pft. I didn’t know whether to admire or condemn him.

All I did know...was that I had to kill him. And quickly.

Ordering another drink, I suddenly sensed a presence walking up behind me as the bartender waltzed off, causing me to glance over my shoulder.

Standing not too far away from me, there was a young woman dressed in a neat, grey blazer and high heels, and her brown hair had been tied into an elegant bun. She was equipped with an advanced pistol that hid just beneath her jacket, and in her hand, she held a clipboard. I guessed this woman must’ve been with the Agency. She had that...look.

“So you’re released from prison after an entire year on the inside,” she said, “...and this is the first place you visit? I...guess I see the appeal.”

I paid no mind to her comment.

“I was in Blackgate for quite a while, love. I’d say I deserve a drink.”

The woman stepped closer. “Just make sure you don’t overdo it. I need your senses to be alert.”

Putting the beer down for a moment, I gave her an irritated glare and casually stood up from my chair, approaching the agent.

“And just who the hell are you?” I questioned. “I’m working on assassinating Gotham’s favorite vigilante for you people, yet your lips remain tighter than the security at Blackgate. Can I get a code name, at the very least?”

Surprisingly, the woman reacted in a more-than-friendly manner and held out her hand, smiling warmly at me.

“Agent Iman Avesta,” she introduced. “You met my partner yesterday. Vernon Blake.”

I didn’t return the handshake, and went back to my stool.

“You can call me Oz,” I replied, “but I assume you know that already. The Agency seems to know a lot ‘bout me. So, what, you here to keep an eye on me?”

Avesta took a seat next to me. “Something like that. Waller just wants to make sure you don’t do anything too...rash. I’m sure you understand.”

I quirked a brow. “If she don’t trust me, then why’d she hire me to do the job?”

“Waller has absolute confidence in your skills,” the agent explained, “but that’s the extent of her trust. Not that I blame her. After all, you were associated with the Children of Arkham. It’d be foolish to let you act alone. It’s nothing personal, of course. The Director watches all her ‘allies’ very closely.”

I scoffed. “You mean like the Pact? I know they’re working for her.”

Avesta seemed impressed. “Well, well. Looks like we’re not the only ones who are good at learning secrets. Waller made a good choice, hiring you for the job. I look forward to accompanying you.”

Finishing my drink, I placed the empty bottle aside and turned to the agent.

“...And how exactly does Waller want me to approach this mission?” I asked. “Any rules I should know about? Any lines I can’t cross?”

Avesta shook her head. “Aside from deserting the mission itself, no. The Director has granted you full permission to do anything it takes to kill Batman. And she means anything.”

Slightly nodding in approval, I separated myself from the bar and prepared to leave, Avesta tagging along with me as we strolled outside.

“Well, all right then. If that’s the case, I think I know just what to do for our first step. But I’m gonna need your help finding someone.”

She appeared intrigued. “Oh, really? And who would that be?”

I smirked, eager to get down to business.

“...Ever heard of a man named Joseph Hunt?”

#telltale games #telltale batman #the enemy within #bruce wayne #oswald cobblepot #john doe #joker #cobblebats #batjokes #fanfic #story

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batricide · 6 years

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be1ovedbrunette replied to your post: watching batman vs robin again and all i have to...

//I’m glad someone pointed out Bruce’s bad parenting. He was worst in the comics and much worst in Injustice. But because he’s a popular white male, DC and fans make excuses for it and shift the blame to Damian being “a brat” or “ungrateful”.

OH BOY I HAVE FEELINGS, please don’t check under the cut if you have strong feelings on bruce's dadding being perfect.

bruce really doesn’t know what to do with damian and it’s so frustrating to watch, because it’s not just - oh i have a super assassin for a son! it’s these are things you don’t do to children.

damian did best with dick, because dick lead with kindness. he didn’t treat damian like he was a bomb about to detonate, he treated him with trust and love and understanding and damian flourished under that. the kid made good strides to overcoming his past and being comfortable being a person and not a solider, and any time he screwed up, dick would support him into making the right choice and explain what he did wrong but not absolutely wreck his shit for it.

bruce in this arc of the comics and in this movie really diminishes how much humanity damian has and treats him more like an animal that’s about to snap than a little boy whose struggling to figure out how to live an entirely different way of life. any child would be upset to be locked up in a mansion and not be allowed to leave, and any child would be heartbroken that their parent calls them a ‘ward’. especially when damian puts such weight on their blood tie because he wants to be like bruce and has been brought up thinking blood is heavily tied to destiny.

bruce also fucks it up by sending mixed messages. he wants damian to be a normal kid? okay, sure. that’s fair. that’s clearly what damian wants too underneath all his bluster. but he doesn’t send him to school, he has alfred homeschool him. he goes through the motions of making damian do homework and keep a schedule but still keeps him inside the mansion, not with other kids his own age. and we have seen that damian can make friends with kids his age. look at colin! look at jon! hell, duke’s a few years older but they’re still buds!

he keeps him isolated. then he’ll gripe about how poor damian’s social skills are but his social interactions are being deliberately limited. i know that’s changed in supersons. but i have Additional Problems with bruce’s parenting after damian’s revival.

such as forgetting his birthday and then brushing it off, like that isn’t extremely hurtful and is probably the first time it’s ever happened in his life. talia at least sparred with him every birthday - that was how he earned the right to meet bruce. and bruce doesn’t care? i’d call bad writing but i mean it’s still canon and it’s a thing we have to work with.

or dismissing him when he goes to his dad for advice on how to lead. because leading? leading is very different from commanding, and he was raised to command or do things himself.

the line that always sticks out to me in the batman and robin run is when he tells damian that he’s afraid that he’s “a little boy who only cares about himself”, because it speaks to how little he knows damian as a person. then damian puts the pearl on his desk and WOAH ALL IS FORGIVEN. because damian is caught in an endless cycle of proving to bruce that he’s not a monster and bruce getting conked on the head and forgetting about it when a new writer takes over.

like ---- i think it’s not entirely Bruce's fault. because if you have a kid like damian who has come from extreme abuse, he’s going to have trouble adapting. but damian is the one doing all the adapting. bruce doesn’t change or adjust how he does things to help his son, he just expects damian to do all the work for him and often yells at him when he doesn’t do it right.

damian is a child and bruce is the adult here, and i get so angry when people blame damian for it because he is a child who literally does not know any better and is trying very hard to learn but is lacking a support system that is conductive to that.. damian should realistically be in therapy, but you know, comics, so barring that he should really be living with dick because dick is more in touch with his feelings than bruce is and knows how to treat him.

injustice bruce is kind of all of this but upped by eleven. he never tells damian he’s proud of him or he loves him. he never explains anything to damian he just expects him to follow his orders, neglecting the fact that damian just wants to know why the fuck they’re doing what they’re doing before he agrees. all of his bad parenting traits are there in the comics they’re just multiplied because nobody in injustice is having a good life.

bruce, across all canons, loves his son. this is totally undeniable. but he’s not. really. equipped to handle a child with severe emotional problems due to his own emotional problems.

#be1ovedbrunette

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kazosa · 6 years

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Masquerade

Summary: the reader has been conned into going to a party where her best friend, a white witch, has set her up on a blind date. Is this one finally a keeper?

A/N: BIG thanks to @dragongirl420 for the gorgeous graphic!!

Warnings: um? I write how I talk so… swearing? That’s about it. Fluffy AF, too.

Song Lyrics: “Lady in Red” by Chris de Burgh

Word Count (w/Lyrics): 3930

Tags: @dragongirl420

The rustle of fabric and the sounds of heeled shoes on the wooden floor were all keeping time with the music that was playing over the amazing sound system. As you watched the party taking place without you, you leaned against the wall and wondered, yet again, how in the hell Jen managed to convince you to go to her party. Only, it wasn’t just any party, it was a masquerade party… and she was setting you up, again.

“Oh, c’mon! It’ll be fun!” she cajoled.

You’d heard that before.

“This is the last time, Jen,” she’d been trying for ages to find you ‘the one’ and had been unsuccessful. “I’m a hunter, I don’t have time for family stuff.”

The two of you’d had many discussions about hunters and families. No matter how many times you tried to argue against it, you knew it was bullshit. Your own father was a hunter and you had many good memories with him. He was around to teach you things, he was there for birthdays. Hunters and families could be done, and happily, you knew that, but you’d been on your own so long…

“Fine, last time,” she relented. “Though, I think I picked a winner this time.”

Jen had insisted on buying you a dress for the party. Thinking you’d just go to some costume shop that had dresses at the ready, you'd agreed. Instead, she had taken you to the airport and spent the next three days in LA getting dress fittings. Jen had already picked out the design and gave the dressmakers your general dimensions. She’d been a good guesser and only a little work had needed to be done to get your dress perfect. Three days and Sam had only called you once. Dean had called you everyday and had sent you texts. You were living with them, after all. It was only natural that they would check up on you, plus, they were Winchesters, it’s what they did.

You’d been mingling with the other party goers long enough to make your feet hurt in your high-heeled boots. Figured you’d get stood up, on Valentine’s Day no less. Your mask was bothering you and you wanted nothing more than to ditch the party, but Jen had gone to a lot of trouble and it was a pretty fantastic party.

Somehow, she’d managed to rent a loft in the historic downtown area and decorated it to the nines. There was lush velvet and black lace everywhere you looked. The furnishings were just as opulent as the gothic chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. Jen had really outdone herself this time.

The music wasn’t too loud, but loud enough that people wanted to dance. As you watched how people had already paired off, it made you wonder if Jen was just messing with you and you were the only one being set up on a date. It was starting to not matter anymore, you were getting to a point where you were there for the food and drinks and to enjoy your friend’s expensive taste.

So far, you’d avoided the food table, foolishly thinking your date would acutally show. You hadn’t wanted to eat something and have it make your breath go horribly wrong. You weren’t an optimist, by any means, but it could have finally been the time that one of Jen’s matchmaking attempts had actually worked out. It didn’t seem to be an issue any longer, and the carrot sticks were calling to you.

“At least something is,” you grumbled to yourself.

Jen slipped in beside you in her opulent black and gold gown. Like everything else at the party, she was stunning.

“You look amazing!” she said sincerely.

Indelicately chomping down on your carrot, “I don’t feel amazing.”

“He’ll be here,” she insisted, taking a drink of whiskey.

A tall man, wearing a black suit, with black shirt and a vest printed with gold spades, and a matching pocket square came striding up, laying a gentle hand on Jen’s bare shoulder. You liked Dave a lot and he seemed to be holding up nicely with Jen. She had a wild life, but so did he, and she tended to run through her lovers. This one, however, seemed to be thriving with her. He was a nice guy and he was a hell of a lot of fun at parties. His dark blonde hair, blue eyes and beard made him look more menacing than he really was with that masquerade mask on. In fact, when he wasn’t dressed up, he had a whole other look about him, one that had earned him the nickname Jen had given him. It never failed, every time you saw him, it came to mind…

“If he’s not, we’ll just find him and kill him,” Dave said lightly. “Good riddance if he can’t man-up.”

“You’re sweet,” you said.

“Don’t worry, he knows what’s good for him,” Jen winked. “Just give him a chance, okay?”

Jen was a white witch, and you had no doubt that whatever wrath the mystery man was going to get, she would be the one to dole it out.

“In the Mood” started playing and you knew then that Jen had chosen the music selections for the evening.

“C’mon, (Y|N), let me push you around the dance floor,” Dave said. “Let’s go cut a rug!”

Dave didn’t wait for an answer, he just grabbed your wrist and pulled you out onto the dancefloor while the peppy beat lifted your spirits a little.

Sam went in first, no longer willing to wait while Dean drug his feet. Dean stood outside the door to the party, the sounds of the old music, like stuff the MoL had left behind, met his ears. The rustle of fabric and shoes on the wooden floor, a small detail under the music. He watched as Sam disappeared into the crowd of party goers. He felt like an idiot wearing the mask, but he kept telling himself that if Batman could wear a mask and still be badass, he could, too.

As the notion finally set in, he pulled down on the lapels of his suit jacket and said, “I’m friggin’ Bruce Wayne.” He smiled to himself and strolled into the party feeling as cocky as Bruce Wayne, himself.

He spotted the food tables and bar. Fairly certain he could down a beer in a minute, he started making his way toward the bar first. Half way there, he caught sight of the taps and the promise of the delicious liquid gold they would soon provide. The crowds of people had slowed his progress when a flash of burgundy from the dancefloor caught his eye. Turning, he stopped to watch the woman dance with a big bear of a man.

It didn’t matter that she was dolled up for Jen’s fancy party and wearing a mask, he would know her anywhere. He broke into a nervous sweat as he looked around the room and realized the couples he saw were wearing matching colors. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly to calm himself.

He rubbed his palms on his pant legs, “Get it together, you’re Bruce Wayne.”

“You always give yourself these pep talks, Bruce?”

He looked down into the smiling face of Jen, who was holding a beer and a glass of whiskey.

“Wasn’t expecting an ambush,” he said, turning back to watch (Y|N) glide over the dancefloor.

“Take the beer, jerk,” she said, touching the beer to the back of his hand.

Accepting the bottle, he took a long drink. Jen looked up at him as he watched (Y|N) dance with Dave. She’d seen that look before, the one of silent admiration from afar. She’d seen it on the faces of people who couldn’t have the one their hearts most desired, whether they knew of that desire or not. What made his gaze different was the hint of jealousy mixed with the adoration.

“You just don’t know how to say ‘thank you,’ do you?” she asked.

“Look, Jen, I don’t know what you’re trying to do here, but…”

“Why did you never ask her out?” she prodded. “Were you just too chicken?”

Dean sputtered a few moments, not knowing how to answer. (Y|N) had been in their lives a long time. Hell, they’d almost grown up together. It felt a little disrespectful to want Bobby’s niece the way he did. She’d spent summers with Bobby and Karen. When his own dad needed to dump him and Sam somewhere, it was often Bobby’s house. She’d started out being the annoying kid that wouldn’t leave him and Sam alone. Then a few years passed and they’d gone back to Sioux Falls when they were going on a hunt and things had been … different.

It had been hard to ignore the long legs sticking out from under the old Nova. Cutoffs, boots, black tank top, and a flannel tied around the waist, grease smudges on the bare skin of her tanned legs. The blaring noise of Nirvana and Pearl Jam assaulting his ears. He didn’t know who he was expecting to roll out from under the car on the creeper when he switched off the music, but he wasn’t expecting HER… Anyone else and he wouldn’t have batted an eye.

She’d grown up a hunter’s kid and the niece of a hunter. She knew all there was to know about cars, weapons, music, and monsters. Another few years later, Sam was back, and they’d needed help and called Bobby. Instead of their surrogate uncle coming to help them with a hunt, (Y|N) had shown up in his place. He’d gone into the hunt thinking he’d have to look out for her, but it hadn’t been necessary, she was good, really good. He remembered thinking she could go toe to toe with any of the best and come out ahead.

Jump ahead to their current situation. She was living in the bunker with him and Sam. After Bobby died, he and Sam felt like they owed Bobby’s only living family a home. Hunting with them, and researching when they needed her, after all, she shared the same blood as Bobby. The woman was a bloodhound on two legs, two long, sexy legs that he often thought about being wrapped around his waist. Her room was even next door to his own. She’d been there for him, through everything…even the nightmares.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted to Jen… and himself. “It’s not something I want to talk about with a witch, I can tell you that much.”

“Well then,” Jen continued, “I suggest you take advantage of the mask, Bruce, and charm the dress off her.”

Dean was about to tell her exactly where she could go when he realized the song had ended and (Y|N) and the large man were coming over to where they stood.

Dave was quite the dancer and he’d left you winded as the song ended and he led you off the dancefloor. It wasn’t until you got near the edge that you saw Jen, and a tall man wearing your matching color, talking. You assumed he must have been your mystery date. Not wearing your glasses, it took you a few moments to realize who you were looking at was none other than Dean Winchester.

“Son of a bitch,” you thought. “Jen, you sneaky witch.”

“There’s my gorgeous lady!” Dave took Jen in his arms and dipped her into a kiss.

You were still catching your breath when Dave stood up with Jen.

“Bruce,” Jen winked at the man in your matching color, “I believe you know this beautiful lady. You two have a nice night.”

“Sweetheart,” Dave leaned down to kiss your cheek, “always a pleasure. You’ve been holding out on me, we’ll have to dance again real soon!”

You watched as your friend and her boyfriend walked away. Dean was watching him closely.

“Is that the guy from Stranger Things?” he asked.

You nodded. You’d made Dean watch it with you, not that you’d had to twist his arm too much. Finding a good show to watch, when you were at the bunker killing time til the next case, was almost a relief.

“Yeah, it was a good show, right…Bruce?” you were going to tease him a little with the charade. You didn’t find the idea of spending a little quality time with Dean unappealing. On the contrary, you’d wanted nothing more. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been obvious about how you felt. Ever since you were kids, you’d had a crush on him. He’d always shut down your advances. If he knew it was you, he wasn’t letting on, and if he didn’t know it was you, you hoped he might finally make a move on you.

“Huh,” he mused. He turned and looked at her in her dress, mask, and gloves. He’d never seen her like that. She was always in hunter gear, but this, this was a whole new ballgame.

“So, uh… what do we do now?” he asked. Any other time, he would have laid on the charm, given the girl some bullshit story, anything to cut to the chase and get in her pants. (Y|N) would see right through all of that, he had to play it cool.

“You could ask me to dance,” you offered.

The music was still playing an up-tempo tune and the party was starting to really pick up. Dean stuck out his elbow to you. Taking his arm, he led you back out onto the dancefloor, just in time for the song to change to “Lady in Red.”

“Oh um…” you tried to pull away, but Dean only pulled you closer. You looked up into his impossibly green eyes, searching for any hint of what was happening…

“No, not this time, sweetheart. Never again,” his expression telling you he was completely serious. His grip tightened on your waist, his hand clasping yours to his chest.

You ignored everyone else but him. He gently swayed to the music with you pressed against him. Your emotions were running wild. The man you’d had feelings for since you were both teenagers was staring into your eyes with such intensity, you couldn’t look away and you didn’t want to.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he said just loud enough for you to hear.

Your free hand rested on his bicep. He looked good in burgundy. Hell, he looked good in everything he wore.

“Not so bad, yourself, Dean,” you said, letting on you knew who he was. You were still unable to break eye contact with the most handsome man you’d ever known.

He leaned down slightly, finally breaking the hold his eyes held you in. His breath tickling your ear as he spoke, “I should have done this a long time ago.”

I’ve never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight I’ve never seen you shine so bright I’ve never seen so many men ask you if you wanted to dance They’re looking for a little romance, given half a chance And I have never seen that dress you’re wearing Or the highlights in your hair that catch your eyes I have been blind

“You could have,” you said softly. You’d carried a torch for him for so long… There were times when you’d be alone at the bunker, watching a movie, or a TV show and just when you thought things were moving toward the next level, he’d leave you hanging and play it off with some lame excuse.

“You’re Bobby’s niece. You were off limits… and you were an annoying kid,” he chuckled softly.

You squeezed his arm, unable to get a good grip with your gloved hand, “You weren’t much better, you big jerk, and we’re the same age.”

“Imagine my surprise when I go back to Bobby’s house and see those long legs of yours sticking out from under that old Nova,” he trailed off.

“I remember that day,” you confessed, looking up into his eyes. “I was a goner. Seeing you, looking cocky as all hell in that black t-shirt and brown leather jacket… I knew then that I’d never get you out of my system.” You ran your hand up his sleeved arm, your arm going over his shoulder.

His hand moved to your back pressing you to him.

“That mouth on you… man, you know how to put a guy in his place,” he admitted.

“Well, you shouldn’t have touched my stereo or shot your mouth off about me working on cars,” you defended yourself.

He could smell her hair and feel it catching on his jaw as she moved with him. She felt so good pressed against him, moving with him seamlessly across the dance floor. They’d known each other since they were kids. He had always blamed not telling her how he was feeling because she was more like a sister than someone he would ever fall in love with, but that had been a lie, too. It was a lie he told himself to get through all of the lonely nights, the nights where she would go with someone else, the weeks and months that they were apart. It was all about survival.

“I’m sorry, by the way, about Bobby,” he was very quiet, almost a whisper. “It was my fault. I got him killed.”

You squeezed his hand before letting go to put your arm around him. He crushed you to his body, and you knew he must have been reliving the moment in his head.

“It’s not your fault, Dean. Bobby knew the risks and he would do it all again if he could, I know it,” you tried to reassure him. Sam had told you the story of what happened because Dean couldn’t. At the time, you were more hurt that Dean hadn’t come to tell you himself. Later on, you realized it was because he felt responsible. After a while, you just assumed he didn’t want to talk about it and you didn’t press the issue. You’d come to terms with Bobby’s death long ago. “He loved you and Sam, so much.”

The lady in red is dancing with me, cheek to cheek There’s nobody here, it’s just you and me It’s where I want to be But I hardly know this beauty by my side I’ll never forget the way you look tonight

His face buried in your neck, you extended your hands behind his head and pulled off your glove. You put your bare hand on the back of his neck, stroking his skin and running your hand up through his hair on the nape. You couldn’t even hear the music anymore, none of the chatter from the other guests, not even the clunk of feet on the wooden floor. There was only Dean. Your heart was damn near bursting out of your chest for him.

I’ve never seen you looking so gorgeous as you did tonight I’ve never seen you shine so bright, you were amazing I’ve never seen so many people want to be there by your side And when you turned to me and smiled, it took my breath away And I have never had such a feeling Such a feeling of complete and utter love, as I do tonight

“There’s so many things I would’ve done different,” he said releasing his tight hold on you. Still moving to the music, he leaned back a little bit to look at you.

“Like what?” your bare hand caressing the smooth skin on his neck.

He looked at her and thought of all the times he wished he had kissed her. The times he wanted to hold her hand. The times they were heading back from a hunt and had just wanted to keep going with her by his side. He’d known she cared for him and that had made it all the more difficult to keep refusing her. In the end, he didn’t know who he was protecting more, her, or himself.

“That day, when you rolled out from under the Nova, I should have…” he looked into her eyes, she deserved to hear him say it. She deserved to hear him say everything that he’d been holding back for so long.

“I should have told you back then that you were making a mistake,” he said. He saw her give him a questioning look. No way would she let him off easy. Patiently, she waited for him to continue. “You were dating that jock, Peter Butler.”

You smiled up at him. Dating is not the word you would have chosen to describe your two dates with Peter. He was cute, but dumb as a rock. You’d almost forgotten him entirely.

Dean continued, “…I should have told you that I wanted you.”

You swallowed hard, “Did you Dean? All those years ago?”

He nodded. “We should have just gotten in the Impala and drove. I don’t know where, just anywhere away from where we were and tried to forget that we were ever hunters.”

You both knew that things had worked out the way they should have. You couldn’t imagine doing anything other than hunting and you knew that Dean felt the same way. It was good helping people and killing the scary things that go bump in the night. When you’d reconnected with the Winchesters, you almost felt like you were getting the best of both worlds. You hunted with two of the best men you’d ever known and had a close relationship with them both. Dean was the one that had always held your heart. Anyone else that tried to take it away from him, never really could.

I never will forget the way you look tonight The lady in red, the lady in red The lady in red, my lady in red

“I know we can never not be hunters but… do you wanna go?” you asked. “Do you want to go get in the Impala and just see where the road takes us? I mean, I’d go to the end of the world with you, if you asked me. I kinda …”

Dean’s lips were suddenly pressed to yours for one, beautiful moment. It ended just as suddenly as it had begun. Taking a moment to recover, you said, “I’m sorry, if we’re gonna be a thing, you need to kiss me better than that. My toes didn’t even curl.”

He smiled and reached up to carefully remove your mask, then his own. Dean’s eyes twinkled as he leaned in for another try. This time, his lips were soft as he sucked gently on your lip as he kissed you, his tongue brushing lightly on your lip as yours parted for him. His tongue danced with yours as you moved on the dancefloor. It all felt like a dream.

“I love you, (Y|N).”

A/N: this may or may not be the end of their story, I haven’t decided yet. I mean, if they leave, how does Sam get home? Where do they go? Anywaaaayyy….

#dean winchester #fan fic #dean x reader #fan fiction #dean winchester x reader #fluff #kazosa #masquerade #supernatural #spn fan fic

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intergalactic-zoo · 6 years

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In preparation for my viewing of Justice League, I decided to revisit Batman V. Superman: Dawn of Justice. I've been dithering with this post on and off for a month, and while I don't think it's gotten any shorter, at least I feel like it says all I'm going to need to say on the subject. Also, I added some pictures. Anyway, you may recall that I did not care for the movie the first time around. I'm approaching this like I did with my Man of Steel rewatch that I did in preparation for that viewing: trying to focus on the positive, to find the movie that I've seen fans posting gifs of on Tumblr for a year and a half. To that end, I'm watching the Ultimate Edition, which I've heard is better than the theatrical cut. Without further ado... I listened to the opening voiceover three times, twice with subtitles, and I'm still not sure what it means. "What falls...is fallen," is, I suppose, meant to be a way to set up Batman's character arc, that he goes from this nihilistic place to learning to hope again, but hoo boy does it make Batman sound like a pretentious MFA student. As unnecessary as the rehashed Batman origin is, I like that we see Martha Wayne being the proactive one in the alley. We typically see Thomas trying to take control, rushing forward to protect Martha and Bruce, and this is a nice change of pace from that. Batman and Superman's stories tend to be way too dad-centric, especially in adaptations, to the point where Martha Wayne is largely a cypher, despite having existed for almost eighty years. I'm no Batmanologist, but I think the only comic I've read that tried to characterize her at all was Batman: Death and the Maidens. Looking back to Man of Steel, this is an ongoing theme. Moms live longer in the Snyderverse, whether it's a few days, with Lara, a few seconds, with Martha Wayne, or indefinitely, with Martha Kent. Moms are also badasses, with Lara facing down Zod, Martha K. taking on Faora, and here, Martha W. trying to protect Bruce. It's a little weird that the Batcave is apparently adjacent to the Wayne family cemetery plots. Ugh, "the Superman." I'll accept "the Batman" as something people call Batman, but seriously, "the Superman" is what Nietzsche wrote about, not Jerry Siegel. At least, post-1933.

There's a giant alien spaceship destroying cities, and it's been active long enough for Bruce Wayne to ride a helicopter over to Metropolis and drive halfway across town in disaster traffic, but nobody at Wayne Enterprises looks out the window or starts to get out of the building until they get a call from the boss. Those are some dedicated employees, let me tell you. This is also a stark contrast to Superman, who never so much as shouts at bystanders to run during the big fight with Zod. Why doesn't Jack leave the building? It looks like the rest of the staff made it out, and as far as I'm aware, there's no tradition for the CFO or whatever to go down with the ship. Moreover, why does Bruce think he's still in the building? We just saw that he had no cell phone service, so it's not like their call was still connected. This scene tries to do what Man of Steel really failed at, examining the human cost of this destruction, but it doesn't work. There's no reason for Jack to make the sacrifice (at least they could have had him run back into the building to save someone, to make a parallel with Pa Kent in MOS—in the Snyderverse, Moms survive and Father Figures die for no reason), there's no reason for Bruce to think he's not among the evacuees, and we have no emotional connection to this character that we've never seen before in any medium. At least if it were "Lucius," the film could play on audience's previous familiarity with the character to tug some emotional strings, like it does with Jimmy Olsen later, but this is just the movie reaching for an emotional payoff that it hasn't earned. It's the same problem as the Jenny saying "he saved us" in Man of Steel—it relies on characters knowing things because the audience knows them, even though the characters have no way of knowing. It's a weird inversion of dramatic irony. The moment with the little girl who's lost her mom works considerably better, because at least it ties back to the origin flashback. The closest thing we have to a throughline for Batman's character in this movie is that he doesn't like it when people lose their moms. When I rewatched Man of Steel, I kept wondering what impression people on the street would get of Superman, and this is actually a nice reification of that. Bruce sees Superman pushing Zod back down from space, apparently in control, surrounded by debris from a Wayne Enterprises satellite, bringing him right back to the huge, densely-populated city that they were fighting in before, when presumably he could have flown him into the ocean just as easily. Bruce seems to have nothing but contempt for the battling aliens, and that's a way more genuine reaction than seeing him as a hero.

I am just infuriated by the callous incompetence of the Superman in this universe. Eighteen months later and there is still a wrecked alien spaceship leaking radioactive xenomaterials into the Indian Ocean. Like, for a movie so focused on mothers, it doesn't speak well of Martha Kent's character that she never taught her son to clean up his messes. We cut to a fictional country in Africa, where Lois acts like a jerk to Redshirt Jimmy, then sits down to interview General Amajagh with literally no chill. He says that he is "a man with nothing except a love of [his] people," and that's one of those lines that feels important. On one hand, it's more or less exactly what Zod said toward the end of Man of Steel, so that connection's made; on the other, it resonates with Batman's attitude, and Lex Luthor's as well. "These pious American fictions, spoken like truth" is another such line, and Luthor's "oldest lie in America" line echoes it later. The most suspicious thing about Jimmy Olsen is the idea that he'd be using a camera with film in 2016.

Hooray for casually lethal Superman. People like to justify the idea that Superman should be able to kill people in situations like this, where an innocent person is being held at gunpoint by a Bad Guy, because it would be a justified use of lethal force. And that would be true if Superman weren't, you know, Superman. He's not limited in the ways that, say, human law enforcement officers are. Even in the real world, we've seen an epidemic of police officers resorting to lethal force when effective nonlethal options are available. But for Superman, there are always nonlethal options available. We've seen this scenario before a thousand times, where Lois is in danger, held at gunpoint by a Bad Guy, and Superman manages to stop him without killing him. He can grab the gun at super-speed, he can block the bullet from exiting the barrel, he can melt the gun or the firing pin with heat vision, he can knock the Bad Guy out with a flick of his finger. We've seen literally all of those and a dozen other options spread out across half a dozen media for nigh on eight decades. But this is a Superman who defaults to lethal force, and I'm sorry, but that's not a heroic trait. Not in general, and especially not in the world of the last several years. Also, Lois and Superman share this look before he does the death-flight move, and she nods and lets go of Amajagh's arm and braces herself, implying this has happened before, or at least that they've discussed what they'd do in this situation. That adds a layer of complicity to Lois's behavior that's uncomfortable at best. We cut then to Nairomi villager Kahina Ziri's Congressional testimony, where it seems like the security contractors' intent in killing Amajagh's people was to frame Superman for their deaths. Which, first, is wholly unnecessary given that Superman actually does kill Amajagh, and second, would almost certainly be more effective if they had just used the flamethrowers rather than shooting the men and piling their bodies before burning them. Or did this universe's version of Lois Lane's "I Spent the Night with Superman" column mention his bullet-vision? Senator Finch decides to hold Superman responsible for the deaths of Amajagh's people (despite the fact that he stopped the CIA drone strike that also would have killed them, but that's actually fairly believable), and we see that the driving theme of the story is going to be the Responsible Use of Power and Holding the Powerful Accountable. It's a reasonable theme for a Superman movie (it's very similar to the theme of Superman IV, in fact), and a common theme of Superman stories going back to the Golden Age. Rarely, though, is it told through a version of Superman who is so obviously and disastrously irresponsible in his use of power. Ziri turns out to be lying, as part of Luthor's scheme, which is highlighted by how her recounting of events is directly contradicted by what we just saw. Leaving aside the elaborateness of Luthor's scheme, it's not a good look for all these African characters to be either sinister or witless pawns. The cops watching a Gotham/Metropolis football game are call sign Delta Charlie 27, and if you don't catch that Easter egg, don't worry, they repeat it three or four times to drive it home. And hey, if you thought "d***splash" was a weird phrase to hear in a Superman movie, wait 'til Officer Rucka drops an f-bomb. Clark comes in while Lois is in the bath, and right off the bat says he doesn't care what was said at the hearing. Which...kind of validates the point of the hearing. He also says he "didn't kill those men," which isn't quite accurate, is it, Clark? Like Ziri's testimony, Clark here is saying something that is directly at odds with what we just saw. Unlike her, though, we're never given a reason for the incongruity. It's common in superhero stories to have characters survive experiences that would cripple or kill normal humans. People point out how brutal Captain America is to a lot of the guys on the ship at the beginning of The Winter Soldier, and how some of the guys he kicks or throws his mighty shield at would likely have sustained pretty grievous injuries. There are two ways to deal with this; in Winter Soldier, we never really revisit the issue. Whether the anonymous cannon fodder died or were injured or were knocked out never comes up again, so we can assume whatever we like. The other way is to show some indication that, however improbably, the person survived their experience. Having a quick shot where they groan or rub their head or squirm on the ground is pretty commonplace, especially in superhero cartoons, for instance. This movie tries to do the former, treating these minor villains like goons in a beat-em-up arcade game, whose bloodless bodies disappear once their hit points are exhausted. Which might be fine, if not for the fact that "who administers lethal justice" is an explicit theme in the movie. As a result, we're left with an inconsistency between what Clark says and what we saw him do, with enough ambiguity in his words to make us wonder if he's being as duplicitous as Ziri was. Lois points out that there's a cost to his actions, which again feels like one of those "this is thematically important" lines. The Lois and Clark interaction is good here; I like seeing them being affectionate and even physical with one another. And yet, as if to drive home that point about themes, Lois warns him that he's going to flood the apartment if he climbs into the bathtub, and he just smiles and continues. This is a Superman who does what he wants, and damn the consequences. Hope they don't have any downstairs neighbors.

Alfred tells Bruce that "a feeling of powerlessness [...] turns good men cruel," in case you're taking notes on themes. And then this leads into our scene of Silicon Valley Startup CEO Lex Luthor, who offhandedly mentions that his father grew up poor and oppressed in East Germany before launching into his kryptonite weapon pitch. There's some weirdness here in the way they go from kryptonite weapons as deterrents to the "metahuman thesis" which suggests that Lex thinks metahumans are related to Kryptonians, and I wonder if that ties into the rumors from before this movie came out that the Amazons would have been descended from that empty pod on the Kryptonian ship. Lex's negotiations with Senator Jolly Rancher underscore that theme of power, and the abuses thereof. Lex pretends to be interested in preventing the metahumans from instituting a fascist state, but really just wants to be the guy with the launch codes. Much as I dislike this Heath Ledgeresque portrayal of the character (though he's not my least favorite version of Lex), this is a good understanding of the core of Lex's character. Clark has a sad at Kahina on TV pointing out that his actions have consequences. Meanwhile, there's a "beloved" statue of him in Heroes' Park. I wish we had a little indication of how we got to that point, how the city apparently got back to normal and built a massive monument in the span of 18 months. For comparison, only a handful of buildings in a single area were destroyed or damaged in New York on 9/11, and they didn't start constructing the memorial until almost five full years later. A line about how Superman assisted with the cleanup, a shot of a newspaper article on how helpful he was in rebuilding the city, those little things would have helped to make sense of the world we're presented with. As the story actually stands, it's another attempt to have a meaningful moment without actually earning it, and it further undercuts the movie's inconsistent attempts to explore the consequences of these superhero battles. Clark Kent, news reporter, is unaware of the vigilante in the town across the bay whose exploits were literally front page news the day before. So he's actually incompetent at both his jobs. And so is Perry White, who is a cynical jerk here who basically flaunts his lack of integrity. When Clark hits him with the same point that Kahina made on the news, he dismisses the very notion of the American conscience. Lois comes in with the bullet she recovered from Amajagh's camp, which is a one-of-a-kind cutting edge bullet not available anywhere. So, to recap, Lex Luthor had his people use unique, easily-traceable bullets to kill people in an attempt to frame Superman, who does not use guns, for their murder. And yet Lois thinks this means the U.S. government armed the rebels while claiming to support the elected government, even though it was already said that the government was officially neutral, and she knows the CIA was involved in going after Amajagh because she just washed the agent's blood off her shirt. Superman blew up a damn drone on the way to save her. Did he not mention that? One day it'd be nice to get back to superhero costumes that look like they might believably fit under a person's civilian clothes, rather than having to spend all their time on mannequins in those heroes' basements.

Clark Kent, news reporter, doesn't recognize the famous playboy billionaire businessman who lives in the town across the bay, owns an office building that he helped demolish (not to mention a satellite), and who was namechecked by the guy defacing a statue of him. It's bad enough that Clark managed to even get this job when his résumé reads "fisherman, waiter, US Air Force baggage handler," and it's worse that he doesn't find it odd that he, a guy with no more than 1.5 years' newspaper experience who struggles to file sports articles, gets specifically requested to cover a high-class fundraiser, but he hasn't even bothered to research the big-name donors who were specifically invited to the event he's covering? He is staggeringly incompetent. As bad a newsman as this movie's Perry White is, that he even tolerates Clark is a testament to superhuman patience. Clark tells Bruce that he's "seen" the "Bat vigilante," except...no, he hasn't? He's seen a newspaper story about it, and talked to a few people who fear Batman, but he hasn't actually seen Batman. He makes a crack about Batman thinking he's above the law, after scoffing himself at the idea of being accountable to a higher authority a few scenes ago. Again, Bruce is 100% right here: Clark is being a hypocrite, and doesn't even have the "Batman's tactics are too brutal" moral high ground to stand on when he risked an international incident by unnecessarily splattering a warlord through two brick walls. Like, the charitable interpretation here is that Clark is dealing with a crisis of conscience, trying to find an answer to the question of using power responsibly. So he's putting this question to other people with power—Perry, Bruce—in hopes of, what? Finding a satisfying answer for himself? Getting the guidance he seems to need? Exploring alternative points of view? The closest thing we have to a conclusion to this muddled plotline is that Superman sacrifices himself in the end, which could indicate that he realizes there's no way to use this much power responsibly. That would be a potentially interesting take, even if I think it's ultimately at odds with the whole point of Superman. If this were the Dark Knight Rises of the Man of Steel-iverse, a coda to Snyder's version of Superman the way that DKR was for Nolan's Batman, it could work. Instead, this is the springboard for the entire DC shared film universe, so it can't end with the message of "superhumans shouldn't exist because that amount of power inevitably corrupts or has unforseen negative consequences." It has to end with "Superman was actually great and now we need to get all the superhumans together because bad things are coming that regular people can't stop." Even if that weren't the case, we still have a situation where Superman sacrifices himself knowing full well that there is technology that could resurrect him as an unstoppable monster and that there are people willing to do just that. Even if the conclusion of his asinine soul-searching is "no one man should have all this power," his sacrifice doesn't fix that. It just wipes his hands of having to figure out who has that power and how it's used. Even his heroic sacrifice represents an irresponsible attitude toward the enormous power he possesses, and that's almost impressive.

Lex Luthor pops up, and the World's Greatest Detective doesn't find it odd that he knows the name of the occasional sports reporter who's covering the gala. Lex could not be more obvious about knowing who the two of them are. He also mentions that Bruce is finally in Metropolis, "after all these years." Metropolis, you'll recall, was home to a Wayne Enterprises building less than two years ago, and Bruce was heavily enough involved in its operations that he was on a first-name basis with the manager, and the staff didn't bother evacuating until they got the word directly from Mr. Wayne. Like, even if we imagine that Bruce traveling across the harbor to a building he owned was a freak occurrence during the battle, this also suggests that after witnessing and being traumatized by all that destruction, Bruce Wayne didn't bother setting foot in the city to help rebuilding efforts. Clark sees a report about a fire in Juarez and saves a little girl, leading to another "here's some religious imagery" scene, and a talking heads segment about how "every religion believes in a messianic figure," which I'm almost certain is complete nonsense. What's worse is that this segment made me agree with Andrew Sullivan of all people. The last bit poses the same basic question that young Clark asked Pa Kent in Man of Steel: should he just let people die on principle? And yeah, it'd be hard to tell a parent that their kid died because Superman restrained himself from saving them. But isn't it also hard to tell a kid that their parent died because Superman acted without restraint and, say, disabled a spaceship so that it would crash in the middle of a city? There's a fairly rapid-fire sequence where the bat-branded crook from earlier gets transferred to Metropolis and killed on the orders of Luthor's Russian merc, Wally the statue vandal gets released on Luthor-paid bail, gets cleaned up, and meets with Senator Finch, and Lois confirms things she already suspected about the strange bullet (with a bit of bathroom gender essentialism from General Swanwick). Clark gets in another fight with Perry, who tells him "you could stand for something in 1938, but not anymore," which...

And we also learn that not only has Clark Kent, a guy who can travel from the northeast coastal U.S. to Juarez in seconds, hasn't filed either of the stories he's been assigned so far. Like, sports stories don't have a long shelf life, my dude. You are a terrible reporter. We're treated to a painfully unfunny Jon Stewart monologue about Superman wanting not to be considered American anymore. It's weird on several levels, since we've had no indication that Superman's made any statements at this point about...anything, but it's also just not well-written. Superman must be American because he wears red and blue and has an S on his chest? It's a bigger stretch than the right-wing radio host I heard circa 1997 saying that the blue-and-white electric costume meant Superman now represented the United Nations. It makes more sense as a response to that Goyer-penned story from a few years back about Superman renouncing his U.S. citizenship, but even then it's still not good. Verbal sparring with Bruce and Diana, then we get the "Knightmare" sequence. I want to laugh about Batman wearing a mask over his mask, but honestly that's pretty true to the character.

Mad Bat-Max fights Superman Nazis and Parademons with guns until Superman kills him for taking "her" from him, presumably Lois. And then the Flash shows up to say "Bruce! Bruce! Justice League premieres in November, 2017! Mark your calendars!" or something. Did we need two scenes back to back where Bruce dreamily realizes that Lois Lane is important and Superman is bad (though Flash is notably vague with his pronouns)? Do we have any indication at all as to what's behind Batman's weird dreams? I've seen Justice League at this point, and I still can't answer those questions. Speaking of scenes we've already seen, Clark Kent gets a mysterious envelope with the Batman newspaper article he waved around earlier and a bunch of Polaroids of that dead bat-branded criminal, with the phrase "Judge Jury Executioner" written on the bottom. Literally none of this, down to that phrasing, is news to Clark, but hey anything worth doing is worth doing twice I guess. Also, even though he hasn't published anything about Batman, even though he's only asked a handful of people about the Bat vigilante, he doesn't stop to wonder who would send him these pictures, or whether it might be an attempt to manipulate him. Bruce learns that the White Portuguese is a ship, which I feel like he probably could have found out without downloading Lex's mainframe. He already knows about the kryptonite, and he knows it's being delivered to Lex Luthor, so he's going to steal it and use it to kill Superman, based on logic straight out of the Iraq war. It's a bad argument, especially for a guy who we know doesn't care about the consequences of his branding low-level thugs but has allowed the Joker to keep on living. It is easy to craft actual reasons to rein in the reckless, inexperienced, cavalier Superman of this universe, but Batman manages to be just as wrong and just as hypocritical as Superman. For the record, I think this is really the turning point of the movie, the sequence from Knightmare to this point. This is where the movie takes a hard right turn from a kind of fascinating mediocre to Actually Bad. All these overwrought dialogue-heavy scenes hammering on the same points as though the universe itself is trying to force Batman and Superman to fight, because it is. It's not just Luthor; as much as he's orchestrating, he isn't behind Batman's dreams or the branded crook's girlfriend being in the police station when Superman shows up. Every conversation Clark and Bruce have is driving them to fight each other because that's the title of the movie, not because it makes sense for either of their characters. And they both have to be hypocritical idiot fanatics for the plot to make any sense at all. I was going to say that this is plot driving character, but it's not, because there's not enough of either. This is a fight scene driving everything else. The battle between Batman and Superman is the given, and nothing else needs to make sense so long as it ends up with them fighting. So, after seeing Days of Future Bats using a handgun, we get a fakeout with him aiming a sniper rifle at the guys hauling the kryptonite. Psych, it's actually a tracer! Batman doesn't kill people, silly! And then he Batmobile-rams an apparently-occupied car so that it flips over several times and takes out a trailer office. Psych! Batman totally kills people. Okay, so maybe the office was empty, and maybe that car was just sitting next to all the other occupied cars, with its headlights on, but empty as well. Maybe? Maybe you can argue that he didn't kill anyone with it. Not so much after he harpoons it and uses it to flatten a car with at least four guys in it. And then uses his hood-mounted bat-guns to 1000% kill at least another two in an SUV. I won't even blame him for the guy he let drive into a tanker truck, but he definitely decapitates at least one more with his car driving through the top of the semi carrying the kryptonite.

Are we supposed to be okay with this because Batman only has the power to kill dozens of people, rather than millions? Is his argument against Superman really just a matter of numbers? The thing about this scene that's most galling, though, is how unnecessary it is. Batman knows what ship the kryptonite is on, where it's docking, who's taking it, and where they're planning to deliver it. He puts a tracking device on the truck. There is no reason whatsoever for him to be chasing after them in his sports tank. He kills at least seven people and endangers at least a half-dozen other drivers we see on the road because, what, sneaking was too hard for The Batman? He was too lazy to set up an ambush? Nothing in this scene makes sense, and it thoroughly undermines what little moral high ground Batman had. It makes him look less like he's upset that Superman endangers people and more like he's just upset that Superman does it more efficiently. And then his car bounces off of Superman, which is actually a pretty cool idea. I always like it when Superman's powers are treated kind of casually; it makes him seem so effortlessly powerful. But then he gives Batman this 'go home and stop being Batman, or else' speech, and Batman asks "do you bleed," and ugh. That little detour kept Batman from pursuing the kryptonite shipment, so instead he uses the tracer. Surprise, it's at a LexCorp research facility! Except now they know Batman's after them! World's Greatest Detective, everybody! Lois meets with the General again and gives him the bullet. Senator Finch asks Superman to come to Congress. Lex ogles the kryptonite. Superman meets with Martha Kent, who tells him "when people see what you do, then they'll know who you are." She follows this up with "you're not a killer. You're not a threat." Except that he is. He's both of those things. He killed Zod, he killed Amajagh, and that's just the two we've seen directly, that's not even blaming him for all those killed in collateral damage. The last time we saw him in costume, he was literally threatening Batman. Martha's pouring a big ol' glass of Granny's Peach Tea right here. And then "you don't owe this world a thing. You never did," which is a pretty garbage sentiment, there, Martha. It's no wonder that this Superman doesn't bother to clean up his messes, doesn't think he should be held accountable, doesn't seem to have much agency beyond asking other people what he should do, if that's the message he's been getting his whole life. Hide your abilities to save yourself, you don't have to help people...these aren't the philosophies that build a hero. And Superman doesn't argue with her, doesn't plead a case. He just looks melancholy.

Ziri sees the contractors, then goes back to tell Sen. Finch that she lied before. The General meets back up with Lois to tell her that the bullet was developed by LexCorp and that it was a setup to make Superman look responsible. So, again, LexCorp hired mercenaries directly, armed them with unique LexCorp-designed bullets, and had them shoot a bunch of people to frame Superman, who doesn't use guns, for killing them, when he did in fact kill their leader and didn't actually need to be framed for anything. Everyone in this movie is an idiot. Perry won't run Lois's story against Luthor on the word of an anonymous source, and Finch knows that Ziri lied about pretty much everything because Luthor threatened her. So, if all this could be stirred up by one witness lying, why did they even need to kill the villagers in the first place? Luthor shows up, sends Mercy into the Congressional chamber, and tells Sen. Finch that the oldest lie in America is "that power can be innocent." And, again, he's right. We know he's right. Superman and Batman's reckless abuses of their respective powers makes them both responsible for unnecessary, avoidable, unjust deaths. And while you might argue that Luthor's being a hypocrite here, since his men push Ziri in front of a subway train and since he's about to blow up Congress, it's not like he's exempting himself from that statement. Luthor is willing to use his power, lethally if necessary, unilaterally to achieve his own ends. How is he any different from our two ostensible protagonists? We've seen this kind of question asked before, particularly in Lex Luthor stories. Luthor is cynical, megalomaniacal, and narcissistic. He can't imagine that Superman would use his power altruistically because he can't believe that anyone wields power without expecting something in return. And in these stories, we know that Luthor is projecting his own flaws onto Superman because he's unwilling to accept that he might be wrong. But having the Superman of these films, who uses his power irresponsibly and doesn't care about accountability, recontextualizes Luthor's position. He's no longer obviously wrong, no longer clearly trying to justify his own actions. This Luthor is a power-hungry narcissist, sure, but when opposed to a cavalier, unrestrained Superman, he's got a point. Anyway, in keeping with the movie's need to hammer every point home, Senator Finch chokes on her speech no less than three times as we take four long, loving shots at the jar labeled "Granny's Peach Tea" on her lectern. Then the Wallybomb blows and Superman just stands there, looking melancholy. Was his last line when he threatened Batman? Is this meant to be another allegory, Christ remaining silent under Pilate's questioning or something? Or is this Superman just a passive observer when he's not chasing down the Batman story or murdering warlords? Like, seriously, the U.S. Capitol Building just exploded. There are probably people in other rooms. There are priceless artifacts in this building. Maybe don't just stand there?

To Superman's credit, we do see him rescue a woman and bring her to the EMTs. And then he looks melancholy at Lois and flies off. The Capitol is still smoking, EMTs are working with people on stretchers, cops are zipping up body bags, but Superman doesn't try to reassure the crowd, doesn't ask the first responders how he can help, doesn't tell Lois what happened or where he's going. He just flies away. It's as if the filmmakers heard the criticism that Superman barely saves anyone in Man of Steel, and put this in as a "fine, see? He saved someone. Happy now?" As if Superman's got better things to do than help people who need help. We learn on the TV at Wayne Manor that first responders are still bringing victims out. Superman has to at least suspect that this was targeting him, right? And he just disappears, rather than help people who got hurt because they were near him. It's a theme for this version of Superman. Naturally, this drives Batman to go steal the kryptonite from Luthor's lab, which he was already going to do but now I guess he did it angrier. Superman has a sad with Lois about how he shouldn't have even bothered with helping people, and it was his dad's dream anyway. Lex gets into the Kryptonian ship's database, Batman does crossfit and makes his kryptonite weapons, and then he gets into Luthor's "META_HUMAN" folder where he's helpfully assigned the Justice League handy symbols and, apparently, names (or two-letter designations that just happen to correspond to their names).

If you were worried that maybe you wouldn't recognize one of the surveillance shots of Diana, it's okay, she always makes sure to look directly at the camera. But we get to hear her amazing theme music for the first time, so that's good. Luthor brings Zod's body into the Kryptonian ship and drips his own blood on it for reasons, and in the Daily Planet office and around the world, people are debating the degree of Superman's complicity in the bombing of Congress. It's not entirely fair to pin that on him, but the point that he's got nigh-unlimited power and did nothing to prevent people from being killed can be levied on other things he's done, so it's kind of a wash. Lois Lane, who generally makes out pretty good in these movies, sits at home watching TV, where they've figured out who the bomber was, but still haven't ruled out Superman as a co-conspirator. Because if he wanted to kill a whole bunch of people, he'd have some rando who hates him build a bomb. I can't decide what's dumber: that Lex keeps trying to frame Superman for murder with tactics that Superman doesn't use, or that people buy it. Lois eventually gets up and investigates Wally (and learns that the bullet and wheelchair were made of the same metal, because why not? Lex Luthor, criminal mastermind everybody), but she's weirdly passive here. You'd think she'd already be out fighting to clear Superman's name, badgering police officers and so forth. So much of this movie happens to our protagonists. Clark's already been sad in a field, and sad in a building, and sad in a city, so now he gets to be sad on a mountain.

And look, sad dead dad is there too, giving a speech about well-intended actions having unintended negative consequences. There's no clear message here. Is Pa saying that trying to be a hero means other people will get hurt?

That having a loving relationship will assuage your guilt? You'd expect there to be some kind of turning point to this conversation, that Clark would hear what he needs to hear, either that he's doing the right thing or the wrong thing, but we don't really get that. At most, it implies that he should listen to Lois (or maybe Martha), but even that's a bit of a stretch. Martha Kent gets kidnapped, Lois Lane gets kidnapped, and Lex throws her off a building so he can ramble Theology 101 at Superman. We get confirmation that Lex's dad was abusive, which hearkens all the way back to Alfred's comment about powerlessness making men cruel. We also get confirmation that Lex knows who Batman and Superman really are, because of course he does. He's going to force Superman to kill Batman so that the public sees what a monster Superman is. For killing a guy who's already a criminal vigilante that the papers say have gone too far. He also had Martha tied up, humiliated, and photographed, for a bit of that Killing Joke flair. Superman tells Lois that he has to convince Batman to help him, or he has to die, and the first part of that would ring truer if he hadn't threatened Batman earlier. Strange doings are afoot at the Kryptonian spaceship, and Wonder Woman reads her e-mail one 18-point line at a time.

When Superman confronts Batman, he sends some mixed messages. He tries talking, admits he was wrong, says there's no time, then shoves him because why not? It's not like he's in a hurry or anything. He hits Batman for no reason except that he has to hit Batman in order to fulfill the promise of the title. He also keeps throwing Batman, when he could pretty easily restrain him in order to, you know, ask for the help he needs. Instead, he's got to win the pissing match.

The bit where Batman's punching Superman in the face until the kryptonite gas wears off is very well done. It's one of the best bits of Superman fight choreography ever on film, up there with the bullet to the eye in Superman Returns and the punch-rush-punch in the Zod battle in Man of Steel. It's also pretty great that Batman literally hits him with a kitchen sink. He tells Superman that his parents, dying in the gutter, taught him "the world only makes sense if you force it to," which seems like a good metaphor for this movie. People seem to be able to derive a lot of messages out of this film, largely because it throws a whole bunch of stuff out that's meant to seem deep even if none of them actually fit together coherently. And then "you're letting him kill Martha," which is, yes, dumb from every possible angle. Superman doesn't specify who "him" is, doesn't specify who "Martha" is (but we get some flashback sequences to remind you that Bruce Wayne's mom was also named Martha!), and this doesn't make Batman even more enraged since he got that letter earlier about how he let his family die. I do like that Lois saves Superman. And suddenly they're all bestest friends, after wasting a bunch of time in a totally avoidable way. Batman kills several people from his bulletproof plane with his giant bat-Gatling gun, kills a few more dudes in the next fight, and finally kills the Russian in a scene pulled from Dark Knight Returns. Except in Dark Knight Returns, that scene stands out as a kind of turning point for Batman, because despite how ruthless he is in battles up to that point, killing a guy with a gun is still a line he doesn't typically cross. In this movie, Batman's already used a gun in a prophetic dream sequence, and he's been cavalier about killing people already, so it's just another notch on the utility belt here.

Martha and Batman's banter is very good, though. Doomsday is born amidst Luthor's continued nonsense about killing gods, and let's talk about Doomsday for a second. My feelings on Doomsday are well-documented (and oddly similar to my feelings about Zod), but I have a soft spot for the big galoot because the Death of Superman got me into Superman comics. Doomsday, for all that he's a long-haired bone monster in bike shorts, was a distinctive monster. This version of Doomsday, on the other hand, is basically indistinguishable from trolls we've seen in Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter movies. He's slimy, he's smooth, and somehow turning into a monster gave General Zod the groin of a Ken doll. His design is totally uninteresting. Even making him into something more clearly a misshapen hybrid of Zod and Luthor would have been better than this gray hulk. He gets bony and glowy later, but it's still weirdly restrained compared to the designs we've seen in the comics. Superman saving Luthor from Doomsday's punch is one of the few moments that a recognizable Superman comes through in this movie. Doomsday has his King Kong moment, and Wonder Woman wonders if maybe her great power entails some kind of great responsibility. Superman and Doomsday get nuked because it gives the movie an excuse to do another Dark Knight Returns scene devoid of its context. Batman realizes that Doomsday is Kryptonian, so rather than flying over to the spear and returning to the uninhabited island that Doomsday currently occupies, he thinks the best plan is to lead the rampaging indestructible murder monster back through the heavily populated city whose partial destruction so traumatized him before, so he can retrieve the kryptonite spear there and kill it. These are literally the worst superheroes. Thankfully, Wonder Woman shows up to save his bacon and to improve the movie by a billion times or so with her awesome theme music. Batman mentions that the port is abandoned, in a nice illustration of how a line or two can smooth over apparent plot holes (though I suspect the buildings Doomsday heat-visioned to get at the Batwing weren't quite so unoccupied).

It's about as elegant a solution as the "Duke's alive!" dub at the end of the G.I. Joe Movie, but several scenes would have benefited from more of that. Superman does the heroic sacrifice thing, and it's more necessary than I gave it credit for the first time I saw it. Wonder Woman is occupied keeping Doomsday tied up, Batman is out of his league, and Superman's clearly struggling to do a head-on charge with the kryptonite spear, so getting around to hit it from behind isn't much of an option. Unlike the end of Man of Steel, this feels much more genuinely like there wasn't another choice, rather than like the writers painted themselves into a corner. Some black ops guys go spelunking into the Kryptonian ship to find Luthor communing (?) with Steppenwolf (???), then take him into custody, where he gets his head shaved. The Daily Planet runs with a simply godawful headline, "SUPERMAN DEAD[:] NIGHT OF TERROR MORNING OF LOSS," which leads me to believe that all the copy editors died during Zod's attack. Clark Kent also died, and the Daily Planet prints in color on interior pages, so they must be doing all right. At the memorial for Clark, Martha gives Lois an envelope Clark had sent to surprise her, and it's an engagement ring. I could quibble with the logic of this scene, but it's poignant enough to let it pass.

The dual funeral scene is done pretty well, jumping back and forth between the big to-do at what appears to be the Metropolis branch of Arlington National Cemetery, and the more understated service in Smallville. The Smallville priest does a really weird reading that's clearly about resurrection, rather than a more standard Psalm, but it's ~*~foreshadowing~*~. Bruce and Diana talk about the Avengers Initiative, and now Batman believes men can be good, and they can rebuild. He's so full of hope now. For reasons. Batman comes to visit Lex Luthor with his Bat-branding iron, and says he's going to have Lex transferred to Arkham Asylum. Lex raves about bells and another pronoun that presumably belongs to some Apokolips thing, setting up the sequel, and I'm just tired. And then the dirt levitates off of Superman's coffin. Final thoughts: I'm definitely not as angry this time around as I was walking out of the theater a year and a half ago. Whether that's because the Ultimate Edition hangs together better or because I spaced it out over the course of three days or because I knew what to expect, I really can't say. So, positives: Ben Affleck isn't bad as Batman, Henry Cavill and Amy Adams do fine with what they're given, and Wonder Woman is great. The rest? There are scenes, like Amajagh's death or the aftermath of the Zod battle, that would be improved with a single line. "I dropped him off at an Interpol office." "Superman led the rebuilding efforts." "Rubber bullets, honest." Those would be clunky telling-not-showing moments, but they could easily smooth over some of the film's bigger problems. On the other hand, we have so many unnecessary scenes, things that happen over and over, driving home muddled thematic points (power, gods, etc.) or references ("Martha," "granny's peach tea," etc.) so that even the most inattentive viewer is going to catch everything the filmmakers thought was significant. What's telling is the things they thought insignificant. The text of the movie is so preoccupied with putting a human face to the casualties of these superhero battles and the ability to decide who lives and who dies, but the visual language of the movie doesn't care about those things at all. I keep harping on Amajagh's death because it's the clearest example of this; Superman slams the guy through two stone walls, and he is never mentioned again. The text of the film suggests that Superman didn't kill anyone in the village, but we have no reason whatsoever to think that he didn't kill that guy that we definitely watched him kill. Batman is so angered by Superman's callous disregard for life, then goes hurling cars around with no regard for safety, and no justification in the plot. During that chase sequence, I had a hard time judging just how many people he killed because of the effects shots. A car that was visibly full of dudes shooting at Batman before the stunt...

...is empty immediately after.

The text of the movie is telling us about how dangerous it is to let individuals decide who lives and who dies, and real people get hurt as a consequence even to well-intentioned actions. But the visuals tell a different story, that violence is cool and bloodless, that victims of violence don't even matter enough to be shown on the receiving end of that violence, and that those who commit crimes deserve neither due process nor the continued freedom to live (unless they're good criminals like the titular protagonists). This is a problem, and this kind of dissonance subverts every message the movie is trying to send, every theme it's trying to explore. Take, for instance, the repeated, not-even-subtextual theme of power: who has it, who abuses it, and how to hold the powerful accountable. We have three powerful characters who abuse their power: Superman, Batman, and Lex Luthor. Of the three, only one is punished for it: Lex, whose punishment comes in the form of Batman continuing to abuse his power by threatening him in prison and sending him to get abused in Arkham. Batman forgives Superman for the death and destruction that followed in his wake because of his sacrifice, and he feels no need to turn himself in or moderate his actions, just to assemble an army because Marty McFlash said he should. Heck, Batman's justification for building the kryptonite arsenal and Superman trap is ludicrous even judging these characters as they are (as opposed to how the movie wants us to see them), but he's vindicated because if he'd failed to build those weapons, Lex Luthor would have destroyed the city and probably the world with his laserface murdermonster. And to what end? Lex Luthor's master plan requires him to be both a Xanatosian genius and a complete idiot. He figures out Superman and Batman's true identities, manipulates them in ways that end up being both obvious and unnecessary (unless we're meant to believe that he plants Santos's wife in the police station for Clark to meet), and all so he can turn General Zod's corpse into a monster that immediately tries to kill him? If the implication is meant to be that he's been under Apokoliptian control the whole time, it might have been a good idea to make that clear (maybe trade one of the piss jar shots for that). As it stands, it looks like Luthor's plan was to occupy Superman and Batman long enough that he could destroy the world. For a movie that clearly has ambitions of being more complex and deep and dark than your standard superhero fare, that's an incredibly cartoonish goal. And that's kind of the story of the whole movie. You can't argue that Batman V. Superman: Dawn of Justice isn't ambitious. It has aspirations of being deep and meaningful, of exploring the meaning of superheroes in a real world, the human costs of their battles, the responsible use of power and the methods we might use to hold the powerful accountable for their abuses. But it's not so invested in exploring these ideas that it's willing to tone down the explosions and lethal violence. It gives us two protagonists who are like parodies of the characters they're meant to be. Batman is a terrible detective who hates Superman for endangering people's lives, but who kills criminals for no reason and doesn't care who gets hurt in his crusade for his idea of justice. Superman vacillates between cavalier and passive, either using his powers with reckless abandon or asking other people what he should do but not actually coming to a position himself beyond "being Superman is dumb." He acts like saving people is a chore (much like doing his assignments for the paper), like accountability and responsibility are grave impositions on his brooding time. The movie dwells a lot on parents and the lessons we learn from them, so maybe it's intentional that our three principal male characters are all emotionally-stunted man-children who need to grow the hell up. I doubt it, though. All this wouldn't be such a problem if we weren't continually being told by the text of the film that Superman saves people and is a symbol of hope and doesn't kill, that Batman is concerned about one man having the ability to kill and using it so irresponsibly. The text of the movie is at odds with the visuals, with the world that was created in Man of Steel, and with its own larger role in building a Justice League shared universe. And none of these elements quite jive with the story that the filmmakers clearly wanted to tell. So, in the end, just as in Man of Steel, we see the villain's philosophy validated. Power isn't innocent in this world. Everyone with power in this movie is corrupt or compromised, from Amajagh to Luthor to Superman to Batman to Perry freaking White. Even Wonder Woman is tarnished a bit when you realize that, according to her stated backstory, she didn't think it necessary to fight off the alien army that tried to kryptoform the world two years back. She just spends her time going to fancy galas. There might be an interesting story to tell along those themes, about how the powerful must either be corrupted or paralyzed by their power, but the movie can't decide what it wants to be. Is it a sincere meditation on the nature of power and accountability? A smash-bang action movie built around a classic superhero fight-then-team-up? A deconstruction of superhero morality in a real-world context? A mash-up adaptation of Dark Knight Returns and the Death of Superman? An exploration of the unintended consequences and human cost of these summer blockbuster set pieces? These ideas fight for dominance, and none of them ever quite gains the upper hand. The result is this muddled, cynical mess of an action-driven film that wants to say something important but never quite figures out what. Bottom line: if you want to watch a movie that attempts to explore the "must there be a Superman" question, features some brooding, an inconsistent tone, and a great cast doing their best with a story that can't live up to its potential, I know one that gets it done in half the time:

#IFTTT #Blogger #TheFortressOfSoliloquy

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winchester-with-wings · 7 years

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Growing Pains, Part 2 / (Second Chances Series)

Bruce Wayne x daughter!reader fic!

AUTHOR: @faithtrustandpixiedust95

Summary: The Circus was supposed to be a good time...

Word Count: 2900ish

Warnings: Dick Grayson backstory

A/N: reader is about 12ish. My sister is writing her fics all in the same universe but each one has a different title and are broken into parts. DIVERGES FROM CANON >>>Dick is 12!

*Disclaimer* I did not write this. My sister, Sam, did and I am posting this with her permission.

Sequel to

“Shattered Beginnings” 1 / 2

“Adjusting” 1 / 2

“Growing Pains” 1

Sam’s Mobile Masterlist

Once Friday rolled around, you were fidgeting with excitement. School couldn’t end soon enough and you had told your coach and Roy that you were taking the afternoon off from training to go to the show.

You made it home relatively quickly and got dressed for the special occasion. Bruce told you to keep it somewhat casual, it wasn’t something that required a dress, like his galas did. So you decided on a pair of clean jeans, without your signature holes in them, and a nice soft pink v-neck long sleeve shirt paired with a blue scarf. It was still nice looking yet casual, the perfect outfit to wear for a nice dinner and event afterwards. You touched up your hair with your straightener and put on a necklace and some earrings and you were ready.

Bruce had decided on jeans as well; he paired them with a black button down shirt leaving it open and a white crew neck shirt underneath. Again, casual, but nice.

When it came time to go, you got into the car and Alfred drove you two to a nice restaurant downtown where you had dinner. Once you were done with dinner, you made your way to the venue where the circus was being held.

You entered and found your seats with ease. Knowing Bruce, he always picked the best seats in the house with the greatest view, tonight was no exception. Your seats had the perfect vantage point of the arena and you would be able to see everything.

The show began shortly after you took your seats, you were enjoying the performance, but you were the most excited for the trapeze artists, you had heard of them.

The ringmaster started his introduction.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! I have saved our best performance for last. The most thrilling and suspenseful part of your night is about to begin!” the man shouted into his microphone, he knew how to build up his show and get the crowd responding.

You were repeatedly tugging on the sleeve of Bruce’s shirt with excitement, “This is them, Dad! The Flying Graysons, this is gonna be awesome!”

“This isn’t your typical acrobatic circus stunt, people! This is a family of performers. They’ve been with our circus longer than any other act and they’ve got the skills to prove it. This isn’t just one acrobat or two acrobats we’re talking about either, it’s three! A loving mother, a daring father, and a brave son. Without further ado, I give you, The Flying Graysons!” the ringmaster finished his introduction, gesturing for the spotlight to move to the performers standing on a platform close to the ceiling of the venue.

“Oh, wait folks! I think I forgot to mention that these three fliers, prefer to perform without the safety of a net below them,” the ringmaster interjected, earning a gasp and cheer from the crowd that was deafening, “This family truly fears no obstacle and trusts each other with their lives...now, let’s watch them fly!!!”

The family of acrobats stood on their small platform waving to the audience. The father was a rather tall man that was muscular and lean for his size, he had dark brown hair that contrasted his red uniform. The mother was a petite woman with black hair that was braided into an intricate design with glitter glistening in the spotlight.

The son, however, was a lot younger than you thought he would be. He had to be around your age, maybe 11 or 12, and he was small but fit for his size. You could see the muscle that lined his lean frame in the red and green uniform. He had short black hair with a yellow tie wrapped around his head in a headband fashion.

The family saluted the crowd as everyone went silent. Music started to play for their performance and without hesitation the dad, with a bar in his hand, lept off the platform to execute a backflip transition to the next bar. He twisted around and swung back the other way.

The mother had caught the retreating bar and flew off the platform. Suspended on the bar, she released her grip and flipped in a graceful manner, just in time to match her hands with her husband’s.

You were holding your breath and had a tight grip on the sleeve of Bruce’s shirt. You were transfixed on the performance and Bruce was admiring your concentration when you pointed up to the tethering system that held the bars for the trapeze artists in place. Bruce’s eye followed to where you were pointing and he saw what you were looking at.

The tethering system had been tampered with and the bar that the parents were now swinging on was about to come undone.

You stood up from your chair and screamed to the boy who was about to leap off the platform, “Don’t jump, don’t jump!”

He was about to go when he saw you pointing at his parent’s bar and stopped. He noticed something was wrong with the rigging of the trapeze. His parents were talking to each other mid-flight trying to figure out what to do, but the tether holding the bar to the rigging had just broke. The parents tried to flip and slow their momentum to the ground the way they had been trained to do at such heights, but it made no difference.

They fell.

All around you, people were screaming at the sight unfolding before them; parents were covering their children's’ eyes to keep them from seeing the awful sight. Others were getting up from their seats and leaving the venue out of panic.

Bruce had disappeared from your side and you knew he had run to get his suit and investigate the scene before the police came. And you? You were just looking at the young boy on the platform, who had just watched his parents die.

Everyone had left their seats and it was quiet in the arena. You had stayed at your seat, waiting for the boy to come down from the platform.

It was after about 10 minutes of waiting that you decided that you would go up the ladder to him instead.

You left your seat and got to the arena floor. You looked up the pillar that the platform was secured to and you began to climb the ladder.You felt the pillar sway gently under each step you took.

When you got to the platform, you slowly crawled onto it, making sure to keep a firm grip on the nearest handhold. You saw the boy sitting on the edge of the platform with his legs hanging over the side.

You crawled on all four over to where he was sitting and adjusted yourself so you were sitting right next to him.

He remained quiet. You could see tears silently falling from his closed eyes and you could feel the hurt he had in his heart at the moment.

You weren’t quite sure what to say so you started with, “I’m sorry…”

He didn’t open his eyes, he didn’t even budge at the words that were murmured next to him, he just let out a sob and put his hands to his face.

You sat there with him, gently rubbing his back in comforting circles the way Bruce would do to you after a nightmare.

You noticed paramedics and police officers were now entering the arena to start their investigation. You looked across from you to the other platform on the opposite side; you saw Batman’s eyes flash and his figure disappear from the platform. You had made eye contact with him and you knew he gave an understanding nod for you to stay with the boy and comfort him.

“My name is Y/N Wayne. What’s yours?” you gently asked in a soft voice.

“Dick...my name is Dick Grayson,” he uttered after a deep and ragged breath.

“Dick, would you wanna come down from the platform with me and we can talk?” you suggested. You were uneasy in your current location.

You feared the boy would make a split-second decision himself and slip off the platform out of sorrow. You didn’t want that to happen, so you were trying to move to the ground where it was safe.

He lifted his head to look at you and nodded that moving to the ground would be the better idea. You sat there looking at each other for a second. You saw the sorrow in his eyes.

Being closer to him now, you were able to see all the features of his face. He had that jet black hair that he inherited from his parents and hazel eyes with flecks of gold and brown littering the iris. He had a few freckles dusting his nose and thin lips that were a soft pink. His skin was a tad more tan than the spotlight had made it look from below. He had taken off the yellow tied headband and it was sitting next to him.

You slowly moved back from the edge of the platform where your legs were hanging over and you grabbed the pole that the platform was centered around. You were hugging it a bit tighter than intended because it was swaying with the movement.

Dick had turned around to move towards the ladder with you when the fabric of his uniform caused him to slip.

You turned around in an instant and grabbed his hand as he was about to fall off the platform; you had slipped closer to the edge of the platform when his weight fell on your grasp. The blue scarf you had been wearing slipped off from around your neck and floated down to the ground, it was a long way down. He was holding on tight to your wrist and you to his. Your other hand a grip on a handlebar that was bolted to the platform. You were holding on tight, wincing in slight pain.

The police and paramedics below you saw what had happened and were watching helplessly from below, telling you to hold on. Bruce had walked into the arena, gaining entrance by telling the guards his daughter was still inside, when he saw you up there holding onto the boy. He yelled your name out of concern and ran to the base of the pillar.

“No, Dad, don’t touch the pillar. It sways with any movement, I don’t want to lose my grip on Dick!” you yelled down to your father. He stopped right before he touched the ladder, trusting your judgement. He stepped back and watched from below.

You were staring right into Dick’s eyes with confidence and strength, “I’ve got you. I’m gonna pull you up okay?”

He looked down and gulped, “Okay,” he just barely managed to utter.

You adjusted your grip on his wrist and then adjusted your grip on the handlebar you were using as leverage. You took in a deep breath and began to pull Dick up to where he was able to grab the edge of the platform with his other hand. You readjusted again this time putting a foot against the handlebar and pulled Dick the rest of the way onto the platform using your legs to help you lift him.

When he got his knees onto the platform, he crawled closer to you and just hugged you with your back against the pillar to assure that you were both away from the edge.

You hugged him too, knowing that it was what he needed in the moment, “I told you, I’ve got you, Dick. It’s gonna be okay, but can we please get down from here?” you begged him. He nodded and you both made your way to the ladder and climbed down.

When both feet were firmly on the ground, Bruce rushed over to you and hugged you tighter than he had in a long time, “You scared me there for a second, Squeaker, but I guess you’re stronger than I thought.”

“I’m okay, Dad, really. Dad, this is Dick Grayson. Dick, this is my dad, Bruce Wayne,” you introduced your dad to the boy who was slightly taller than you.

He walked up to your dad, rubbing the back of his neck like he was expecting a lecture on putting his daughter in danger, but Bruce just put his hands on the boy’s shoulders and looked him in the eye with understanding. Dick gave him a small smile.

“We’re going to figure out what happened here tonight, Dick, I promise,” your dad said with sincerity in his voice.

“I think I know what happened,” Dick softly muttered just loud enough for you and Bruce to hear.

“If that’s the case, I’m going to have you talk to my friend Gordon. He’s a police officer and he’s going to help you, would you be willing to talk to him?” your dad asked the young man, who now seemed like a shell of a person.

“Yeah,” was all the boy could say, looking down at his feet.

Dick was sitting in Gordon’s office at the police department. You and your dad were waiting outside; you had offered for him to stay at the Manor while the police figured out what to do next.

“Alright son, Mr. Wayne said you might know what happened tonight at the show, why don’t you tell me what you know,” Gordon softly encouraged him.

“Well, today before the show, I was walking around backstage. I heard some people talking in a room as I walked by and it sounded pretty tense, so I stayed behind to listen to what was going on,” he started of in a low voice, the more he talked his voice slowly got louder to a normal tone. “I heard Mr. Haly, the owner of the circus, my dad, who was the show manager, and an unfamiliar voice. They were kind of arguing and the longer I stayed I found out that the unfamiliar voice was threatening Mr. Haly. The guy kept saying that the show needed ‘protection’ from possible vandals. But Haly knew the guy was hustling him and he refused said ‘protection’. The guy got really mad and started yelling at him, so my dad stepped in to tell the guy to get lost. That’s when the guy threatened them and said, ‘You’ll be sorry for refusing me. I’m not someone who forgets things easily.’ and the guy walked out of the room.”

Gordon had been listening and making notes of Dick’s story, “Did you get a good look at the guy that was threatening your dad and Mr. Haly?”

“Yeah, I was hiding outside of the room and saw the guy walk out,” Grayson then went about describing the unknown man to a sketch artist who came up with a drawing that resembled Tony Zucco, a local mob boss who liked to extort businesses.

“Okay, Dick. So what I’m about to tell you might be upsetting, but I think you have a right to know,” Gordon prefaced, “Son, it looks like someone sabotaged the tether system that the trapeze bars were on. We found several parts of the system had been tampered with and was extremely loose and unsafe to use. From what I’m gathering from your statement, it sounds like Zucco set up your act to get revenge on Mr. Haly and your dad for refusing his shakedown.” Gordon let out a disappointed sigh.

Dick had just been sitting there listening to Gordon’s explanation and he didn’t respond after Gordon had finished. He just sat in the chair looking at his hands.

“So what happens to me know?” he muttered softly.

“Well, Mr. Wayne and Y/N have opened their home to you if you’d like to stay with them ‘til we find room with a foster family?” was Gordon’s reply.

“Okay,” the boy sounded so defeated and Gordon hated seeing it.

Gordon seemed to have been dealing with a lot more orphan cases than he had handled in a long time. Gotham had it’s waves of crime though and orphaned children were the leftover debris from the destruction of the city.

He walked Dick out of his office and briefly talked to Mr. Wayne about the whole thing.

Meanwhile Dick came to sit by you. You had a cup of hot cocoa in your hands and you had an extra cup sitting on the table next to you, you handed it to him with a sympathetic smile.

“Ya know, the Joker killed my parents when I was 6, he almost killed me too; but Bruce saved me,” you offered the words, “I have a feeling he might save you too.”

Dick looked at you surprised at your words, “I’m sorry about your parents.”

“It’s okay...out of struggle, eventually comes success. Of course there’s always growing pains, but we get through them. I mean, Bruce has been a great dad to me ever since he adopted me, and I have a feeling he’s gonna help take care of you too, Dick. For now, you’ll live with us and we’ll be here for you no matter what you need.”

A comfortable smile crossed his face and he took a sip of his hot cocoa as Bruce walked up to the two of you, smiled, and said, “Let’s go home.”

Tagging: @disappointeddinosaur @readerlucy @alohalisha @fantastic-fantasy-fanfics @sleepingalong @faithtrustandpixiedust95 @ahsokaslament @annabananna394 @kiri-hakumei @chrisevansisdaddy04 @emily-83113 @heyitsilverwolf @evyiione @abbytheninja

#Batfam #Batman #Batman imagine #Batfam imagine #Bruce Wayne imagine #Bruce Wayne x Reader #Bruce Wayne x OC #sam's fanfics #batfam fanfiction #Young Justice #DC comics #Batdad #Dick Grayson

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fanfic-inator795 · 7 years

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Lego Batman Oneshot: Songbird

Plot: Being a crime fighter can sometimes be a balancing act. But every once in a while, things do manage to work out.

((I've got another one! ^v^ Hope you guys enjoy!))

Batman glanced down at the screen. Just above the map that was displayed on it, the digital clock read 7:25 PM. He scowled slightly. Sure, he was used to busy nights, but usually they didn’t really get going until later, usually around midnight. “Ugh...” Of course tonight of all nights had to be the rare exception-

“Dad! He’s-!”

“I’ve got it!” Slamming his foot on the gas, Batman flew passed the alleyway that their target had just turned into, deciding to instead take a sharp turn onto the street just a few buildings ahead of it. And, thanks to the Bat-Mobile’s speed and Batman’s skillful driving skills, they made it to the other side of the alleyway, just as the fiend was coming out of it.

The car screeched to a halt in front of the alley, causing the villain to freeze in his tracks. “There’s nowhere to run, Condiment King!” Batman told him, both he and Dick giving the pickle-headed man a stern glare.

But Condiment King sneered back at him. “Hmph, that’s what you think, Brät-Man!” As strange (and lame) as he was, the Condiment King certainly wasn’t about to go down without a fight! With that, he turned and tried to run back down the alley.

Unfortunately, after no more than a few steps forward, he felt something grab onto the back of his haul (Gotham’s entire supply of hotdog carts stuffed into a shipping container with wheels on it), trying to pull it away from him. But before he could try to pull it out of their grip, the villain then felt the hit of a well-aimed bat-a-rang sweeping him off his feet.

“Got it!” Dick grinned, pulling the container away while Batman just smirked. Another victory for the father-son dynamic duo, and since the cops probably knew what had happened and would be there soon, at least they wouldn’t have to spend too much longer there.

“You’ll regret stopping me!” Condiment King insisted as the dark knight tied his wrists to a nearby lamppost, wanting to keep him place until the police arrived, “Anyone could see that those carts were an abomination! I mean, what kind of hotdog cart only has ketchup and mustard?! No pickles? No onions? No sauerkraut?!”

“Uh, doesn’t sauerkraut usually go on bratwurst?” Dick questioned, which earned in him another glare from the villain.

“It can be put on hotdogs too! See, people like you just don’t understand the importance of good condi-!”

“Yeah yeah,” Batman interrupted, rolling his eyes, “I’m sure they’ve got plenty of condiments in prison. So, enjoy!” With that, the two heroes started to head back towards their car, but stopped when the sound of an alarm rang out. “What the-?”

“Look!” Dick pointed towards a shop just across the street from where they were standing. A pawn shop, to be specific, with plenty of valuables inside. With the alarm still blaring, a trio of criminals rushed outside - and froze when they saw the infamous Batman and Robin staring right at them.

Batman however, just gave them a flat look. “...Really, guys?”

Of course, the criminals didn’t reply. They just made a ran for it as fast as they could.

Dick wasn’t discouraged however. “Come on, Padre! Let’s get them-!”

“Wait.”

The boy stopped, giving his father a curious look. “I’ll get them,” Batman told him, “while you get going.”

“Huh? Wait, but-” “Hey Condiments, what time is it?” Batman asked, turning to look at the villain.

“Uh-” Condiment King twisted his wrist a bit to take a look at his watch. “7:40? Wh-?”

“Exactly,” Batman nodded, looking back at Dick, “You don’t have as much time to get there as I do. Didn’t they say they wanted you there early?”

“Well yeah, but...” Dick frowned. As much as he knew that his father was right, he still didn’t want to just leave him. They were a team, after all. He didn’t want to miss out on any of the crime-fighting fun, nor did he want his father to fight alone...

Batman’s gaze softened a bit. “Look, they’re just a few thieves, alright? So it’s not like you’ll be missing out on much. I’ll just grab them, get back whatever they stole, and then I’ll be on my way, okay? Promise.”

“...” Slowly, Dick gave a small, slightly reluctant smile. “Okay...”

"Good,” Batman nodded, handing him his Bat-Grappling Hook.

“Good luck!” Dick told him before launching the hook upwards, It hooked onto a high-up corner of a building, and within seconds he was rising up into the air (giving a small “Wee!” as he did so). As for Batman, he stayed just long enough to make sure his son had reached the top alright before racing across the street.

Even with three criminals on the run from him, it hadn’t been too much of a challenge - especially since they hadn’t been smart enough to split up. Once he found their trail, it was just a matter of catching up to them - which was pretty easy, despite the thieves getting a head start. ’Heh, who needs super speed when you’re Batman?’ the hero thought to himself.

A quick chase and a few more bat-a-rangs and punches later, and it was all over. It had been just as easy as Batman had predicted, and by the time he dragged the thieves back to the pawn shop, the police were already there, looking over the damage to the shop and arresting a ranting Condiment King.

Accepting their thanks as quickly as he could, he handed the criminals over and jumped back into the Bat-Mobile. ...Where the Bat-Phone was already ringing. Groaning, Batman reluctantly answered it. “Whaaaaat?”

“...Um, Sir?” a familiar voice answered after a moment.

“Oh. ...Uh, hey Alfred,” Batman replied, “What is it?”

“Well, Commissioner Barbara and I are here, as well as Master Dick, who just arrived a couple minutes ago. Though, he told us that you would be held up for a bit, and I just wanted to make sure that-”

“Don’t worry Alfred, it’s cool,” Batman insisted as he started up his car, “I just had to stop a few extra criminals, no big deal.” He looked at the digital clock again. 8:02 PM. He smiled. “I can get there in ten min-!”

Suddenly, a loud explosion in the distance interrupted him. Turning around, he could see a huge cloud of colorful smoke from several blocks behind him. There was only one villain around that could make their explosions that colorful... However, rather than being concerned, Batman just scowled. “Seriously?!” he shouted, as if his enemy could hear him.

“Master Bruce?”

Remembering he was still on the phone, the annoyed hero sat back down. “Ugh... Maybe you should add an extra five minutes onto that. Just, save me a seat, alright?!”

“Will do, Sir...” Not wanting to waste a second, Batman hung up the phone and slammed on the gas, making a quick U-Turn and speeding towards downtown. It didn’t take him long to hear that familiar laugh...

“Ah, nothing like adding a bit of color to our dull lives!” the Joker grinned as he launched another paint cannonball at a building. Along with covering it in a huge splatter, it managed to knock off several pieces, nearly causing it to collapse. “Or rather, to MY city!”

“And to think, I thought nothing could be more fun than smashing stuff,” Harley added as she skated around with her paint-ball bazooka, hitting nearly everything in-sight, “But smashing WHILE coloring is the best!”

The Joker giggled. “Of course it is! Buuuut-” He could hear the familiar sound of speeding tires and roaring rocket-engines coming towards them. “I have a feeling the real fun’s about to begin~”

Sure enough, the Bat-Mobile soon made its way onto the scene, its driver managing to dodge every single drop of paint that flew towards it. Of course, the Joker wasn’t discouraged.

“I really was hoping you’d join us,” he started to say as soon as Batman jumped out of the car (landing in a traditional superhero pose, of course), “I mean, after hearing that you had to chase down ol’ Ketchup and Mustard for Brains earlier, I just thought that I’d come in and give you a REAL fight~!”

“Listen-” Batman started to say, but the Joker just kept talking.

“And you know, Bats, while the yellow definitely isn’t bad, you really could use some more color-”

“Joker-”

“-Your birdy sidekick’s definitely got the right idea! Buuuut knowing you, you’ll want to stick to your dull, boring, no-fun black. Though-” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out one of many paint bombs he had and brought his arm back, “I’m sure I could ‘help’ persuade yo-”

“JOKER!” Batman shouted, giving the clown a hard glare and not flinching at the weapon pointed at him whatsoever.

“...” Slowly, the Joker’s manic expression turned to one of annoyance. “What?” he asked, lowering the bomb.

“Look. Can we just... do this later?” the dark knight slowly asked, “Maybe just, wait until tomorrow night?”

The Joker gaped at him. “ExCUSE ME?” he asked, clearly offended, “Evil and creative masterminds don’t just postpone their amazing crimes just because their hero isn’t in the mood!” He lifted his arm again, taking aim, but his enemy remained persistent.

“It’s nothing personal!” Batman argued back at him, “I just have somewhere I need to be! So, from your greatest enemy to my greatest enemy-” The Joker paused, lowering his weapon a bit. That definitely caught his attention. “-could you just leave quietly and wait until tomorrow to continue this? And if you do that, I can promise you that tomorrow, I’ll give you an all-in, completely focused and one hundred percent epic fight! One that we’ll always remember!”

“...” The Joker hummed, biting his lip slightly. Honestly, that DID sound pretty tempting, but even so... “Just what is this other thing you have to be at that’s just soooo important?”

Batman sighed slightly, knowing fully well the Joker wouldn’t back down if he didn’t tell him. So, he gave him an honest answer.

...And honestly, the Joker didn’t really know what to say to it. “Oh, wow... Uh, well-” At least he wasn’t going off to fight another villain instead. And, really, even as a villain, the Joker could still sort of understand. “Well... I GUESS I can wait until tomorrow to continue all this. Maybe take some extra time to make sure I’ve got plenty of toys for you to play with. And I guess it’s for the best, since fighting you while you’re all distracted and just trying to rush through it would be the worst.”

“Right,” Batman said simply, giving the clown a small nod in an attempt to show just a bit of appreciation.

“So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night. Just make sure you don’t disappoint. And don’t be expecting me to do stuff like this all the time, Batsy!” the Joker scowled, “Greatest enemies aren’t usually this nice! You’re just lucky that I have some standards!”

“Hmph, got it,” Batman nodded again, smiling slightly. Despite everything, the Joker smiled back while Harley reluctantly skated towards their car to put away her bazooka.

Seeing that they weren’t going to try anything funny (no pun intended), Batman got back into the car, and- “Gasp!” It was already 8:19 PM?! “’Puter, enter into Autopilot Mode and get us to the Gotham Concert Hall ASAP!” he ordered.

“Yes Sir,” the computer answered. Tires screeching, the Bat-Mobile turned back around and shot forward as it morphed into it’s jet-plane form. As this was being done, Batman got into the back seat and started to change outfits as quickly as he could.

By the time they landed and the Bat-Mobile morphed into it’s ‘civilian mode’, Batman had changed into his usual white tux and was ready to go! Though, before he got out, he quickly realized that he still had his cowl on. “Ugh, right.”

Not wanting to waste anymore time, he simply pulled it off and tossed it onto the floor of the car before making a run for it. His hair popped back into place just as he reached the front door, and when he arrived at the volunteer-ran ticket table, he simply put down a huge stack of bills.

“Keep the change,” he said simply, taking a moment to flash his infamously charming Bruce Wayne smile. The woman at the table, while clearly surprised, still smiled back at him as he handed him the ticket. “Thanks!” he told her before racing into the theater. “Okay, now where-”

“Oh, Master Bruce!” “There he is, finally!”

Thankfully, it didn’t take him long to spot Alfred and Barbara waving him over to their seats. “You were almost late,” Barbara told him.

“I know I know, I’m sorry,” Bruce replied, “But, hey, I still got here in time.” He made it, just like he said he would. And in his opinion, that was all that mattered.

And, as it turned out, he had made it with just a couple seconds to spare. The moment he sat down, the lights dimmed and the curtain in front of them opened up, revealing the Gotham City Children's Choir - consisting mostly of orphans, with all of the kids wearing baby-blue suits and dresses.

Of course, it was pretty easy to spot Dick among them, and while the boy started off with a bit of a frown, as soon as he saw all three members of his family in the audience smiling at him, there was nothing he could do to stop himself from grinning.

The piano started playing, and after a couple seconds, the kids happily began to sing.

()()()()()()()()()

“So did you all like it?” Dick asked.

“Of course we did!” Barbara told him, giving the boy a quick hug.

“It was a very lovely concert, Master Dick,” Alfred added, “And you should be very proud of your performance.”

“Yeah,” Bruce smiled, patting his son’s shoulder, “Great job, kid.”

Dick smiled back at them, giggling a bit. “Thanks guys! You’re the best! And, thanks again for coming.” As much as he always liked singing in front of others, it was nice to have actual family in the audience.

“No problem. So, how’s about we get you some ice cream for a job - er, concert - well done?”

“Yeah!” Dick cheered. Though, after a moment, he added, “Hey Dad? Afterwards, do you think maybe we could go out on patrol again for a couple hours?” Knowing Gotham, it wouldn’t stay quiet and peaceful for long. The city would need its heroes again soon enough.

But despite knowing this fact as well, Bruce couldn’t help but be a bit surprised at the fact that Dick was the one suggesting it. “Wait, really? Even after-?”

“Yeah!” his son nodded, still smiling brightly, “Why wouldn’t I want to?”

“...Heh.” Bruce gave a soft smirk. “Good point...” Even with the occasional frustrations sometimes involved with it, it looked like Dick had the same passion for crime fighting and saving the day (and night) that he did. And, while it maybe wasn’t the best thing to encourage a child to do, Bruce still couldn’t help but find it a bit comforting.

“Hey, it’s really not that late,” Barbara spoke up, giving a small smirk herself, “So maybe we could even join you guys? Four heroes are better than one, after all.”

Of course, Dick had no objections to that, and neither did Bruce. “Sounds good to me. But ice cream first,” he told them as he started walking forward.

“Heh, yeah!” His son agreed, “With some whipped cream on it, maybe?”

“Ooh yeah. And if you’re going to have whipped cream, you might as well add chocolate syrup.” “Right! And caramel!” “And chocolate chips.” “And-!”

“Don’t make yourselves sick,” Barbara told them, though her concern didn’t stop her from looking amused at the whole conversation.

“Yes,” Alfred added, “trying to fight on a full stomach could be, erm, disastrous...”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine!” Bruce insisted as he opened the theater lobby door, “It’ll take more than some sweets to bring us down!” “If you say so...”

As the family of four exited the building, none of them noticed the tiny drone watching from a corner...

“It is sorta cute to see, don’cha think?” Harley asked, still smiling at the tablet screen.

“Eh, I guess,” the Joker shrugged, trying to seem indifferent even if he was smiling slightly as well. Honestly, he had only flown in a drone just to see what all the fuss was about. And, while he still understood why Batman had chosen it over him, he still couldn’t exactly call it a ‘good’ choice.

“Those kids though, they should really try to liven up their song list,” he told her, rolling his eyes a bit, “I mean, a couple of them were alright but, where’s the silly and fun songs? The nonsensical songs? The songs that sound innocent but are actually dark when you think about the lyrics too much? You know, the laughs!”

“Aw well. I guess not everyone’s as good of a showman as you are, Mister J,” Harley told him.

The Joker chuckled. “That’s definitely true... And speaking of which-” He stood up from his chair. “Come on, Harley, we should get preparing for tomorrow’s show~”

Sure, the night had admittedly been fairly disappointing, but that was now the past. It was time to look to the future, the Joker was going to make sure that the following night would be a real hoot! But really though, there wasn’t much doubt in the clown’s mind that their postponed battle would be just as great his enemy insisted it would be.

After all, Batman always keeps his promises.

THE END

((I like the idea of Dick still being in that choir that we saw at Commissioner Gordon’s gala, even if he’s not an orphan anymore. He just seems like the kind of kid who would still enjoy being in it ^v^ Anyway, hope you guys liked this! And also, thanks again for all the likes and reblogs on my last two Lego Batman fics. You guys are awesome!))

#lego batman movie #lego batman #lego robin #lego joker #dick grayson #my writing #oneshot #fanfiction

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junker-town · 7 years

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NFL Dad, Week 3: Protests, naps, and guacamole

One father of two young children attempts to watch the RedZone channel while parenting. Along the way: reflections on serving your country and the reliable success of guacamole.

Parents often talk about “seeing the world through a child’s eyes,” a cliché that should come with a $500 fine or a punch in the nose from someone without kids. What they mean, in plainer terms, is that they noticed something they had previously taken for granted because their dumb kids saw it for the first time.

Seasons changing is a great example of this. If you’re an adult with no kids, the shift to fall is automatic: you slide into your football-watching habits, dig your hoodies out of storage, maybe post some foliage on your Instagram. This ain’t your first rodeo.

My daughter is almost 3, and her preschool’s ENTIRE CURRICULUM is season-based: apples in the fall, snowflakes in the winter, seeds in the spring. She’s obsessed with books about autumn and Halloween. Instead of going to bed when it’s light out, her bedtime now happens at sunset; we look out the window and try to spot leaves that have started to change color. The farmer’s market we walk through on Saturdays now has pumpkins and squash, and when I take the kids to Trader Joe’s on Sunday morning, 70 percent of the items are pumpkin-flavored. I swear to God there’s pumpkin-flavored almond milk and a sign that says “All pumpkin everything!” It is 87 degrees outside.

But the equinox doesn’t lie: it’s officially fall. At least there’s football.

EARLY GAMES, FIRST HALF

— The dominant story line before the games, and even throughout them, is how players and teams react to President Trump excoriating the “sons of bitches” who kneel during the national anthem, tough words indeed from a patriot who loves America so much he wouldn’t leave her soil during the Vietnam war.

Maybe you voted for Donald Trump, and maybe you didn’t, but there’s no way around those five draft deferments. And, speaking as someone who’s actually been to war, avoiding war is genuinely a very good idea! It’s just a shame that the president abandoned that stance when it wasn’t his jiggling ass on the line.

Anyway, I wrestled with most of this a year ago when Colin Kaepernick first started his protest, and the video I made then still captures my feelings now:

Long story short: My father went to the Air Force Academy and served 22 years as a pilot. I served as a Marine tank commander in Iraq. Because of my time in the Corps, I have some friends who still wear the uniform, some who now work as FBI agents, and some who are underground, God rest their souls. The flag means a LOT to me. I love the anthem. But that doesn’t mean the anthem protests are ABOUT me, or what I feel.

A protest during the national anthem may be offensive to you. Your feelings are valid. But placing them ahead racial injustice in this country — or even a person’s peaceful execution of his First Amendment rights — demonstrates a woeful lack of empathy, or at least a willful ignorance of racism in America. If this isn’t self-evident already, I’ll just point out that the president responded to a white supremacist march that killed a woman by saying that SOME WHITE SUPREMACISTS ARE VERY FINE PEOPLE. I’m so tired of being gaslit about this shit. It’s exhausting.

— I don’t see most of the anthem stuff because I’m putting son down for a nap. When I come back, Rob Gronkowski scores a touchdown on third-and-goal. Save me, Gronk. Save me from the stupidity. Whisk me away to an island of frosty light beers and laughing at “69” jokes. I yearn for the intellectual upgrade.

— The Saints sack Cam Newton on third-and-three inside the 10. A goal-line stand? From the Saints? Something is amiss.

— Weird NFL continues: after the Steelers muff a punt, the Bears go up 7-0 with a Jordan Howard TD. Not long after, Ben Roethlisberger gets sacked and fumbles, with the Bears recovering. I took the Steelers -7 today, and I’m already sick with regret.

— AHAHAHAHAHA, I just saw Joe Flacco’s numbers against Jacksonville on the ticker: 8-18 for 28 yards with 2 interceptions. Holy shit, 1.6 yards per attempt! I hope they quarantined the stadium before Flacco could spread the plague any further. London suffered enough in the 17th century.

— At 1:34 p.m., everyone but me is napping: my daughter in her bedroom, my son in ours (the kids sleep in the same room at night but nap separately), and my wife on the couch as I watch RedZone. The shades are drawn and the TV is muted. Could I nap? Nothing about this column prevents me from napping. The Eagles convert a fourth-and-inches near midfield. The Jets punt.

— On third-and-goal in Indy, Jacoby Brissett fakes a pass and takes it on a designed keeper. Nice play design. Am I tired enough to nap? I had a cold brew a little before the games began; I don’t want to miss out on football for a failed nap.

— DeShaun Watson hits Bruce Ellington with a beautiful throw over the middle for a score, and the Texans have a surprising 10-7 lead over the Pats. I managed to get a nap in yesterday afternoon. After my son’s swim lesson, my wife took the kids so I could stay at the pool and swim laps. I came home with that all-over muscle fatigue you only get from swimming, made a grilled ham and cheese sandwich for lunch, and crashed on the couch while the kids slept.

— Duke Johnson leaps into the end zone for a 19-yard touchdown to tie the game at 7.

CBS broadcast

See, this is why I’m hesitant to nap. Because even though the Browns-Colts game is the LAST game I’d want to watch this week, it has already produced two touchdowns I thought merited inclusion in this collection of notable plays.

— So much for the Texans’ lead: after a Watson INT sets the Pats up in the red zone, Tom Brady finds Chris Hogan wide open in the end zone for a TD. In Indy, Jacoby Brissett scores another TD on the ground, while the Saints and Falcons -- both on the road — build commanding early leads. If I napped now, I’d probably be awake by the third quarter of the early games. I’d miss nothing of note. I should just do it.

— On second-and-goal, Ben Roethlisberger goes to Antonio Brown 1-on-1 on a quick screen, and that’s a TD every time. It ties the game at 7-7, and while rooting for the Steelers feels gross, I have gambling interests to protect. Or maybe I’m just too tired to think straight? I should nap.

— It is 2:05, 31 minutes after I first started contemplating a nap. My heart is beating a little fast from the cold brew, but the exhaustion of parenting is resolute. I lie down next to my wife and throw my arm over my eyes to shade them from the flicker of the television.

EARLY GAMES, SECOND HALF

— At 2:38, I open my eyes, and Drew Brees is hitting Tedd Ginn over the top for a 40-yard touchdown. The safety help arrived too late.

— I scroll back through Twitter just a few minutes to see if I’ve missed anything big, and BOY HOWDY are people tweeting about the Bears.

Wow. #PITvsCHI http://pic.twitter.com/gG6Ry6Uylr

— NFL (@NFL) September 24, 2017

In the Twitter era, this is the perfect thing to experience AFTER it’s happened. I don’t have to wade through dumb exclamations or the confusion of the moment, and I don’t have to wait for the Bears’ false start on their untimed play. I just wake up to a brief, handy explainer. Naps are the best. Always nap.

— Stefon Diggs is going OFF. A long touchdown, his second for the game, makes it 28-3 in favor of the Vikings early in 3rd quarter. I picked the Bucs to win because Case Keenum is sun-bleached highway trash, but apparently Diggs, the Vikings’ defense, and home turf are more than enough to handle Tampa Bay.

— A flurry of touchdowns as my wife makes chorizo bean dip: Tom Brady to Brandin Cooks on a deep crossing route puts the Pats up 28-20; Golden Tate’s first TD of the season cuts the Falcons’ lead to 23-20; and Zach Ertz scores on a short pass for the Eagles. The Giants now trail by five* scores, 14-0 (*adjusted for Giants’ offense).

— My daughter is awake, but we’re not getting her out of bed yet. My wife is putting the finishing touches on the chorizo dip, and I’m making guacamole.

This is all I'm eating the rest of the day (thank u @celebrityhottub for the chorizo dip recipe)

A post shared by Matt Ufford (@mattufford) on Sep 24, 2017 at 1:06pm PDT

Guacamole take: guacamole has a huge range of success. My ideal guac has salt, lime, garlic, cilantro, red onion, and tomato, but I still enjoy it with fewer or more ingredients. Whatever you like is fine.

— Down two touchdowns, the Giants fail on fourth down in red zone, but the resulting Manningface minimized by RedZone’s double-box. I NEED FULLSCREEN ANGUISH, YOU HEATHENS. I realize only now that I’ve seen both of Manning’s interceptions today, but none of his reactions to them.

— DeShaun Watson still makes rookie mistakes, but his ceiling looks an awful lot like Russell Wilson at his best:

DeShaun Watson out here stealing Patrick Mahomes plays. http://pic.twitter.com/0e2VXqNOKS

— Clay Wendler (@ClayWendler) September 24, 2017

Watson caps that drive with a TD to his tight end, cutting the Texans’s deficit to 28-27. A few minutes later, they’ll kick a field goal to go up 30-27.

— Jameis Winston hits DeSean Jackson down the sideline for a TD as the third quarter ends; the Bucs now trail 31-17. Can Dirk Koetter wear his glasses any further down his nose? He’s like a disapproving librarian in a children’s movie.

— The Dolphins are losing to Jets 20-0. Living in the New York broadcast area guarantees me the Jets and Giants every damn week, but a small part of me wishes I were watching this game on local TV so I could see Cutler’s face.

— In a shocking turn of events, the Giants score an offensive touchdown! Less shocking, it’s Odell Beckham who scores it. For his celebration, he crawls on all fours and lifts his leg like a dog pissing, earning a flag for unsportsmanlike conduct.

And whatever, that’s part of the cost of doing business with a physical genius, but when Beckham scores again a few minutes later on an incredible one-handed catch, he raises a solitary fist in protest. And y’all, I don’t want to be Grumpy Old Columnist, but Beckham’s messaging priority is perhaps less than ideal here. “Okay, pretend to be a dog taking a piss — check. Up next: racial equality!”

The only explanation that makes any sense is that the first celebration was a reference to Trump’s “son of a bitch” comment. Regardless, the world was so much better when he was making out with a kicking net.

— Deshaun Watson does it again:

Deshaun Watson is just insane, man. @battleredblog http://pic.twitter.com/Po9IPRdBgf

— Clay Wendler (@ClayWendler) September 24, 2017

The Texans are running the ball with the lead in Pats territory with only 2:30 remaining in the game. Could the Pats lose this? The telecast cuts to Bob Kraft up in his suite, his mouth agape and forehead scrunched, like a billionaire trying to understand what starving people could be mad about.

But no, the Texans are stoned on third-and-one, and kick a field to go up 33-28. They are 100 percent about to lose this game.

— With 55 seconds remaining, the Bears punt on fourth-and-two just short of midfield with the score tied at 17. On the one hand, I respect the decision to remove the responsibility for victory from Mike Glennon’s hands. On the other: COWARDS.

A WILD FLURRY TO END THE GAMES

— The Patriots get the ball back with about 2:30 to play. Tom Brady converts the following into first downs: second-and-20, third-and-12, third-and-18. On the next play after the third-and-18 conversion, Brady finds Brandin Cooks for a toe-tap touchdown with 23 seconds remaining.

— Trailing by four, the Lions have entered the red zone, then exited it on penalties. Matt Stafford is incomplete on 1st and 30, but defensive holding on second-and-30 gives the Lions a first down and new life. Pass interference a few plays later gives them first-and-goal on the 1. Golden Tate scores a touchdown with 8 seconds left! The Lions are gonna win!

— In overtime, Tarik Cohen scores on a long run to seal the game for the Bears. Both my kids are up now, and my daughter is going around the apartment yelling, “DING-DONG! TRICK OR TREAT!” A few minutes later, Jordan Howard scores from 19 yards out to re-seal the game for the Bears, and whatever context there was for Cohen NOT scoring a touchdown is lost. Could I look up the box score to see what happened? Sure, but it’s more fun to have it LOST TO HISTORY.

— The Texans’ final prayer goes unanswered, as Watson’s Hail Mary is intercepted in the end zone.

— Wait, what?!? The Lions LOST? Tate’s TD is overturned, and the game is over. Just a BRUTAL blow for my fantasy team, and also the Lions.

Kevin Seifert of ESPN explained why it was the right call, but to me it doesn’t look like there was enough evidence to overturn the call. As swings of luck go, this should even things out for Tate, who caught the Fail Mary for the Seahawks ... wait a second ... FIVE YEARS AGO TO THE DAY. SpoOOOoOoOooOOookyyyyyy!

Sorry, I’ve been reading lots of Halloween books to my daughter.

— Eagles attempt a 61-yarder in a vain attempt to avoid overtime. Odell Beckham is back to catch a potential miss and … IT’S GOOD! HOLY MAMULA! MANNINGFACE FOR EVERYONE.

LATE GAMES, FIRST HALF

— After the hypodermic of adrenaline that ended the early games, the late slate has a whopping three contests: Chiefs-Chargers, Seahawks-Titans, and Bengals-Packers. If the NFL can push Seahawks-Titans to a late start, why not do it with two other games that start in the Central Time Zone? Push Bucs-Vikings and Browns-Colts to the second slate of games, and they won’t get lost in the early shuffle. “America’s Game of the Week” notwithstanding, I will never understand why the NFL doesn’t try to balance this more. It’s bad and I hate it.

— Kids change SO FAST when they’re young. Physical and linguistic milestones whiz past seemingly every week; go a month without seeing someone’s toddler, and you’re bound to meet an entirely new kid.

That said, this was my son’s favorite game in June, when he was just over a year old:

Fatherhood: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

A post shared by Matt Ufford (@mattufford) on Jun 18, 2017 at 5:38pm PDT

It is more than three months later, and he’s STILL doing this. Just smashing his face into the couch or any soft chair like it’s the best thing in the world. (*slowly crosses off “engineer” on list titled FUTURE CAREERS*)

— Tyreke Hill has already scored a TD, on a great pass by Alex Smith. It’s still super-weird to see Smith throw deep with confidence, or at all.

— Davante Adams fumbles just short of the end zone, and Aaron Rodgers does a nice job of preventing a Bengals touchdown on the return. After review, though, Adams is ruled down and the Packers have first-and-goal inside the 1. Lance Kendricks gets wide open on play-action and catches the touchdown, tying the game at 7 in Green Bay.

— Our neighbors have come over because we made too much dip and guacamole, and there are now four kids under three years old in my two-bedroom apartment. The math sounds bad, but it’s not: their kids are younger than ours — a 2-year-old daughter and a newborn — and anyway, they’re a delight. In 13 years of living in New York City (in six different apartments), I’ve never had good neighbors before. When we eventually move, I’m bringing them with us.

— On a Titans third-and-10, Marcus Mariota sails a pass that gets picked off by Kam Chancellor. Richard Sherman, though, gets flagged for pass interference (ticky-tack in my opinion, but I’m not an objective viewer). He also gets flagged for holding on the return (also ticky-tack), then tears off his helmet to argue with the refs, earning a misconduct foul (definitely warranted). The penalties cost the Seahawks possession and 30-40 yards of field position. After several more penalties, Tennessee kicks a field goal to go up 3-0.

This is fine. Everything’s fine. This column will not be me yelling about the Seahawks every week. (*jaws clench so hard my head vibrates*)

— Y’all, we need to talk about the most nonchalant human being on the planet:

To make matters worse for the #lions. The food is on fire at Ford Field by the locker room. http://pic.twitter.com/aLFNDj4kc3

— Evan Jankens (@KINGoftheKC) September 24, 2017

That lady has straight-up ICE WATER in her veins. “Oh, a fire as tall as I am? (yawn) Not really much I can do here. Let’s just close the— yep, open this other door to get that closed. Anyway, let me know if it’s still there after my break.” She’s the Daenerys Targaryen of concession workers.

— Philip Rivers has thrown his THIRD interception, and it’s barely the second quarter. Every time I look at him, I just think, “Eight kids, man. EIGHT. KIDS.” That HAS to define his entire life. Like, when was the last time he took his family to a restaurant? Never, right? I have two kids that are relatively well-behaved; my wife and I have taken them to restaurants three times this year: brunch twice (one disaster, one white-knuckle balancing act), and dinner once (only a success because the pizza place had just opened and there was no one else there). We have no desire to take them out again. Maybe in another year or so.

I guarantee you the youngest Rivers children are being raised by their siblings. Nobody parents that well past three kids.

— The Bengals have dominated offensively so far. They’re up 14-7 on Gio Bernard’s short catch for a TD ... No, make that 21-7. Rodgers throws a pick-six — only the second of his career — to William Jackson.

That’s mind-blowing. This is Rodgers’ TENTH season as a starter, and that’s only his second career pick-six? Matt Schaub once doubled that in a month.

— Richard Sherman, who has apparently lost his damn mind, earns a flag for a late-ish hit on Mariota.

FWIW here is when Sherman hit Mariota http://pic.twitter.com/WTeBy9IrHC

— Ben Baldwin (@guga31bb) September 24, 2017

Taylor Lewan immediately gets up in Sherman’s face, and I think he gets flagged too, but my daughter has come up to me saying, “I want to be an animal. I want to see a jellyfish.” Is Richard Sherman ejected? What’s happening? “I want to see a jellyfish.”

Goddammit. Okay, sweetie. Let’s watch some f**king jellyfish.

youtube

“What’s that?” she says, pointing at my laptop screen.

“It’s a jellyfish, sweetie. These are all jellyfish.” Richard Sherman is still in the game. The Titans kick a field goal, 6-0.

— My son’s other obsession tonight — besides smashing his face into the couch — is the hokey-pokey. He’s no good at putting his hand in and shaking it all about, but he DOMINATES at turning around. He spins around in circles until he careens left and crashes into the credenza. He thinks it’s hilarious. He is correct.

— Stop me if you’ve heard this one: the Seahawks have a third-and-long, leading to a Russell Wilson sack. With the Seahawks missing their top two special teamers, Adoree’ Jackson takes the ensuing punt back for a score ... but it gets called back on a block in the back, yet another ticky-tack call. LET ‘EM PLAY, REFS.

After doing little on offense for 28 minutes, the Seahawks and Titans come alive inside the two-minute drill, with the Seahawks engineering a quick touchdown drive before the Titans kick another field goal to go into the locker room up 9-7.

— Rodgers is sacked again near the end of the half, and the Bengals call timeout to force the Packers to punt ... but the punt is muffed! The Packers recover, but the clock runs out during the scramble for the ball. Y’know, looking back on this play, I probably didn’t need to write this paragraph.

LATE GAMES, SECOND HALF

— On Sundays, the kids are supposed to take a bath together, but they’ve got their own ideas about that; my son refuses to sit down, and my daughter screams “I’m not ready yet!” any time we pick her up. So, separate baths.

At one point, as both kids cry, I see the referees signal TDs for Seahawks and Packers, but not the touchdowns themselves.

— The Seahawks defense looks tired. The tackling on Rishard Matthews’ 55-yard TD is pitiful (and, ahem, aided by the tight end tackling Kam Chancellor from behind, I REGRET ASKING FOR LESS OFFICIATING), and they’re similarly flat-footed on Jonnu Smith’s 24-yard score that puts the Titans up 23-14.

— Following a sack on third-and-seven, the Bengals miss a field goal. They still lead 21-14, but now it looks tenuous.

— The Seahawks never look close to completing a third-and-11; they are now 2/10 on third downs. Before they punt, RedZone clicks back to Bengals-Packers.

I see it on Twitter first: DeMarco Murray has scored on a 75-yard run. It’s a little after 6:30; my kids will be going to bed in the next half-hour. I pause the TV. “Actually,” I say to my wife, then turn the TV and cable box off completely as a way of finishing the sentence. “But can you still pick up where you paused?” my wife asks. “Nope,” I say, and that’s the point, because I’m a dumb baby who hates watching his stupid football team.

— My daughter, who refused to eat dinner at the prescribed hour, is finally eating her spaghetti as long as I’m reading the same four godforsaken Halloween books I’ve been reading to her for the last two days. My wife got those books out of the closet when she was in there to get something else and she “just happened to see them.” There are five weeks until Halloween. In a month, this column might be about divorce.

— I put the kids to bed at 7:00, and turn the TV back on. The Seahawks have the ball and trail 33-20 with about 8:30 left, which means this will be just stupid enough to keep me watching as the Seahawks lose by one score. Almost immediately, Seattle’s dangerous-looking drive gets blown up by intentional grounding, setting up third-and-29, then fourth-and-22.

They go for it. It’s a ... Hail Mary into the end zone?

Seahawks just whiffed on a three-man rush on 4th and 22. Wilson had about .7 seconds to throw. Embarrassing.

— Robert Klemko (@RobertKlemko) September 24, 2017

The half-moon of regret that is the Seahawks offensive line. Couldn't protect for four seconds against a three-man rush on fourth-and-22. http://pic.twitter.com/kSVeZGLUjh

— Bill Barnwell (@billbarnwell) September 24, 2017

That Barnwell tweet is all I need this season. Finally, a nickname for an utterly unworthy unit. The Half-Moon of Regret. Might not be as catchy as Legion of Boom, but I’m determined to make it stick.

— TV back on, Seahawks have the ball and trail 33-20 with 8:30 left. With just under 8:00 remaining, RW intentional grounding, 3rd and 29.

— KC still up 17-10. What the shit? Have they just been playing backgammon for the second half?

— Some good endings brewing: the Packers are in the two-minute drill down seven; Chargers down seven with the ball and four minutes remaining. The Seahawks have just scored to cut the lead to six, but need an onside kick for any realistic hope.

— Rivers sacked on third-and-10 by Justin Houston, and Kansas City easily recovers the onside kick. But hey! We still have excitement in Green Bay: first-and-goal for the Packers with 30 seconds.

— Jordy Nelson scores his second touchdown of the game. Big ups to Jordy for being questionable all week after last week’s zero-catch scratch. That way he could produce zero points for my fantasy team last week and make me gun-shy enough to bench him this week. THANKS FOR TWO KINDS OF NOTHING.

Green Bay kicks the PAT to go to overtime, even though Mike McCarthy ALWAYS loses the toss, then watches as the game ends without Aaron Rodgers ever touching the ball in OT. It’s so good to see a coach refuse to adapt or take chances or learn from his mistakes in any way. I think it’s great that he’s singe-handedly prevented the best quarterback of all time from winning more than one championship. Give him a lifetime contract, I say, so he can be mediocre forever.

Whatever, I’m all for Cincinnati-Green Bay going to overtime, because I always want more of any game called by Tony Romo. No one this new to a job should be THIS good at it.

Tony Romo is so good, I'm glad CBS finally gave Jim Nantz a broadcast partner who wasn't a talking block of marzipan

— BUM CHILLIPS (@edsbs) September 24, 2017

— The Packers, after losing the coin toss (of course) miraculously force the Bengals to punt. Facing third-and-10 from his own 22, Rodgers hits Geronimo Allison deep on a free play, because that’s what Aaron Rodgers does: murder you on free plays. Allison winds his way inside the Bengals 10-yard-line, and this one’s over.

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bigskydreaming · 4 years

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kai06leaf replied to your post:

Ended up all night, with sleep derailed by a RUDE...

Um I had asked for a link for your batman related works?:)

Oh score, this is actually weirdly timely then! FlashinthePan is my Batfam pseudonym (https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlashInThePan/works), its just it hasn’t been useful for much other than to use my bookmarks page there as a fics rec list. Since the only other things still up on it are the YJ WIP I haven’t updated in a couple years and an elephant’s graveyard collection for the random ficlets I often write on here while forgetting they’re usually long enough to be actual one-shots...and that I then forget to actually add to that one, that I created for the specific purpose of putting all those in one place. My mind. Its just....*staggers at the Legend of it all*

I’ve been on a pretty committed “No more posting unfinished WIPs kick” for the past couple years but am finally at a point where I have stuff to post without cheating, so that streak officially ends today, when I finish my read-through of the first fic* in question and hit publish. “The Requiem Rites of Robins,” the ten chapter first story in an AU Battle For the Cowl fix-it series, “A Legacy of Robins,” with TRRoR being roughly 40K, focuses on Dick and Jason and their issues with each other and Bruce’s believed death, picking up and going AU at an indeterminate time not long after the end of BFTC.

Specific goals of focus with this particular fic were addressing Bruce’s bullshit last will and testament to Jason (ugh), the eternally unremarked upon moment that was Dick watching his brother refuse to take his hand and instead fall to what at the time must have seemed very likely to be Jason’s second death, in a pretty fucked up parallel to his parents’ death (ugh), various other unaddressed issues between the brothers that kept them making like they were Cain and Abel instead of two people who loved each other and very much could use each other while grieving for their father or even just pretending they weren’t....and also steadfastly jumping their combined train of events well off the tracks before Morrison’s whole...”Jason” thing ever happened at all (ugh).

Just a headsup for readers for whom certain characterizations of Bruce are a dealbreaker - full disclosure, this fic and its sequels do consider various less pleasant moments between Bruce and his two eldest to be in character and canon, with NTT #55 and the ending to UTRH the most touched upon and relevant. For what its worth, my intention there (and hopefully my execution of things) was not to vilify or bash Bruce, or to make it at all a question of whether or not both really loved Bruce and he them.

To be clear...I do categorize Bruce’s actions towards Dick and Jason at those times/specific others as abusive, but a huge part of my reason for even writing this particular fic was to explore and examine the reality of loving a parent even despite a history of actually abusive behavior on their parts. Of how to mourn for someone you loved at some times and hated at others, who was both the person who made you feel whole again and the one who made you at other times feel the most broken.

Especially when you’re two people who pride themselves on being heroes, who are ‘supposed to know’ that there’s no defense, no excuse for some of the things their father did, but that doesn’t always change or erase how much they want to. And who are both looking for an answer in the other, as to how they’re supposed to live with the fact that deep down, there’s a part of them that will always still be those ten and twelve year old orphan boys who came to believe their father was a man who could literally do the impossible...even mend what was broken, make things right with them and the world as they knew it just like he’d managed once before, when he’d first come into their lives and they’d been just as certain then that there were no more happy moments in their futures at all.

And with the both of them still, even after everything, having held onto that secret hope that someday he was going to find the secret loophole, the magic words that let them forgive him, that let them let the past all just be in the past and the future all that really mattered, that their best days as a family weren’t all behind them yet and there was still time for things to be different, for him to be different....because their dad wasn’t like other ordinary dads, their dad was the Batman, he was a superhero.....

....who was also still just a man, and sometimes men die with their most important deeds still left incomplete.

This first story is centered firmly on just Dick and Jason, because I have a tendency to let things get too widespread and expansive plot-wise the more characters I focus on, and because this first story, about mourning Bruce and finding a way to move on, needed to be just Dick and Jason, although Cass and Tim and Damian, as well as Steph and Babs and Alfred all have things in the wake of his believed death that IMO they needed explored, and that were never explored in canon. But Dick and Jason had to be the first two and a solo act except for each other, especially as this series is still geared towards Bruce’s eventual return, and just to a much different status quo....because the thing about Dick and Jason at this specific point in time, is that they were quite possibly the only two people in the world who would ever have the relationship with Bruce that they did, to see him the way they both at times did, and nobody else ever fully grasped.

They knew him at his highest and his lowest points, the best parts of him and the worst, the center of their whole universes and the destroyer of them....and for them, at this place and time, its about being forced to realize that for as much as come between them over the years, they each are the only ones who will ever fully be able to speak to the entirety of their father as not just Bruce Wayne, the Batman, the myth and the legend, but Bruce the man, the flawed father who was supposed to be better than his worst mistakes with them, because he was supposed to be a hero.

Even as close as others were to Bruce, there were specific slants to the light they saw him in....for Alfred, even when making his worst mistakes, he was still his son, for Cass he was still the father who fought her personal demon not because of what he wanted her to be but so that she could be who she wanted to be, for Tim, he was imperfect but still larger than life, the hero he’d still first only come to know through the lens of a camera from a great distance, a perspective he’d yet to entirely shake, and for Damian he was still largely a figure of make believe, a bed time story he’d been told all his life.

There’s an inherent goodness, a nobleness around the idea of Bruce for most others in his life, that defies coming face to face with the realities his failings could be.....which only Dick and Jason could ultimately attest to, as losing the ability to keep sight of that innate shine was why they’d found themselves so disillusioned by their father at the lowest points between them. And so in a lot of ways, the ultimate goal of writing this fic was trying to get Dick and Jason to a point where they could share their full, messy, complicated as hell feelings about their father with each other, but simultaneously feel a need to preserve the way each of their siblings still saw him, because the truth is that if there’d been someone who could have preserved that shine for their own eyes, to keep their memories of him clear and unobstructed by complication....they would have been glad to have been left just missing Bruce their father, and not the mess of feelings forever tied up in a Gordian knot upon by his death.

So yeah. LOL. That’s the link to my Batfam works, though there hasn’t been much on their for ages, but stay tuned for Chapter One of The Requiem Rites of Robins, later today.

“In the wild, a group of robins is called a round. But Gotham’s birds have always been of a different sort, something entirely unique. And the only proper plural for them, I’ve found, is a legacy.”

An investigation leads the newly minted Batman to London, alone and without Robin’s back-up for the trip. In the past couple months, Dick Grayson has barely found time to breathe, let alone to grieve for his father and come to terms with his new role as the Dark Knight’s successor. But his distracted state leaves him vulnerable, and when a new villain’s one-man war threatens to make a casualty of him too, he’s left with no alternative but to work side by side with his rescuer - at other times better known as his brother, his successor, and a couple times his would-be killer.

(Their family always has been one of over-achievers. And if you’re going to pick a pair of brothers to play compare and contrast against with that in mind, its hard to go wrong with something biblical.)

But Dick seeming no more happy about it than he is, doesn’t do much to pick up Jason’s mood. He’s come to London for his own reasons, and no, he’s still not inclined to share. Curiosity killed the cat, but he’s sure Selina wouldn’t mind if innate nosiness knocked off a few birds here and there as well. Well-earned paranoia aside, however, secrets and cynicism can only carry them so far when the two are forced to rely on each other to fight their way free of a city turned death-trap. Both are keenly aware that the last time they’d fought side by side like this, they’d been all the way back on the other side of Jason’s first untimely death. And as far as potential omens go, that one’s about as shitty as they come.

But a mixed curse and blessing are nothing new for them, and so that’s not just a painful reminder, but also proof that things were different once. That the brothers they’ve become were not always the brothers they were supposed to be. It was time and pain and bloody loss that weighed them both down so much further than the altitudes that came most naturally....not fate, or destiny, or even them. And as their new enemy forces them deeper and deeper below ground, it becomes all the more clear there’s only one skill in either of the brothers’ arsenals that will see them through to the other side of all this:

And only if they can not just remember, but rediscover, how to shed all of that and finally fly free again.

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