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#so he's going to pull a Bruce lol
duskyashe · 1 year
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NaNoWriMo Day #24
[masterlist]
Prompt found here, thanks to @mewzaque and @stealingyourbones
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Dani couldn't stop giggling, no matter how hard she tried. The memory of the last time Joker had tried terrorizing people was a great one, and she'd never not laugh at the thought of that clown getting pied in the face, but she really loved getting one over on Red Hood. There was just something about the guy that made her feel confident enough to really let her prankster side out. She didn't want to put a name to it, though, so she shook the thought aside and got back to work.
This was going to be her masterpiece, nothing was going to top this, and best of all? She wouldn't be making life all that difficult for him, considering he can and does swing all over the place every single night. A little more swinging to find a few misplaced (but guarded, she wasn't stupid, she didn't want to lose them lose them, just hide them for a bit) tires wouldn't hurt the guy. Now, if she could just stop giggling for a few seconds, she'd be able to get this tire off and Hood's bike would be—
"This has to be karma. This has to be, there's literally no other explanation for this," came a man's voice from the mouth of the ally, startling Dani into nearly dropping her tire iron. She looked up and found herself meeting the covered eyes of Gotham's resident antihero. "Hey kid, you got a plan for those tires, or d'ya got some kind of beef with me?"
She was so shocked, her mouth kind of just... flapped uselessly for a few moments. How—what—wasn't she invisible?! A quick glance at her hands showed that, nope, she apparently was very visible. At least she was "dressed down" and not all ghostly, she still had a chance to talk her way out of this looking human. Though, in order to talk her way out of this, she kind of had to actually do some talking.
Red Hood sized her up briefly before taking a knee. "Hey, if it's something against me, you can take it up with me, you don't have to jack my tires to get a message across. If you need the tires for something else, then tell me, and I'll help you find a different way of getting it, one that doesn't have you jacking tires in the middle of the night. Sound good?"
... a guy that big and threatening should not be able to sound that soft and safe. Jack Fenton was never soft, he was loud and brash, or he was louder and brasher, but if he was quiet, it wasn't a soft quiet. It wasn't a good quiet. Vlad was never safe, even when she thought he cared about her. Clockwork was manipulative, and while he cared about both her and Danny, he... Didn't have the same perspective on things as they did. In her experience, tall, physically imposing men were not soft, and were not safe. The fact that everything in her screamed Red Hood was capable of being both of those things, was being both of them right now, on top of the unnamed thing that made her confident enough to even try half the things she'd done since "meeting" him a few months ago? It scared her. It scared and worried her. She'd only ever felt this way about someone once, and there'd been a very good, very logical reason for that one. She was Danny's clone, she was as close to a perfect clone of him as anyone was going to get at this point, of course she'd feel safe around him after she stopped trying to kill him! Red Hood... There shouldn't be a reason for her to feel so comfortable and safe and understood and welcome—
Slack hands lost grip on the tire iron as something wet trailed down her face. She felt welcomed here; in Gotham, sure, but in Red Hood's presence, especially so. That... Danny felt like that. Danny and Jazz, and eventually Sam and Tucker, but mostly Danny.
Arms wrapped gently around her, lightly tugging her closer but not demanding. She followed. "Hey now, shhh, it's gonna be alright. I'll help you, whatever you need, alright?"
Dani couldn't help but laugh slightly hysterically at that. "Can you take down an abusive, corrupt billionaire who isn't entirely human? Can you dismantle an illegal, government sanctioned lab? Cuz life would be much better if you could." If I could...
"Kid, who do you think I am?" Red Hood said with a thin veneer of amusement barely covering his concern and anger. "If I can't do it on my own, I've got connections who can. You give me the slightest bit of proof for either of those things, I'll give you a status update in a few days and results in a few months, at most." He rubbed her back soothingly. "But neither of those two things would be solved by jacking my tires, and there're better ways to get my attention, as well," he said lightly, tone implying he'd be giving her a look if he could.
Dani flushed in embarrassment. "I was... kind of... trying to play a prank on you," she muttered into his warm leather jacket.
Red Hood was motionless for a long moment, causing Dani to start tensing, before his shoulders started shaking. It started small, and honestly she probably wouldn't have noticed if she weren't still being held like a little kid, but soon she could hear him stifling his laughter. "Oh gosh, this is karma. I can't—hey kid, you got somewhere safe to stay tonight? I've got some friends who'd love to meet you."
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HAPPY (belated) TURKEY DAY!!! Have some Dani and Jason fluff! Don't mind the light sprinkle of angst sauce, it's just a garnish, it's nothing too vital (⁠ ⁠´⁠◡⁠‿⁠ゝ⁠◡⁠`⁠) at least, not yet ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯
I successfully managed to get through all of today without a single breakdown! I did take a two hour nap after the big meal, but everyone ended up waiting almost that long before having dessert, anyway, so I didn't really miss anything too important (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠) food was good today, company was, too. I hope y'all had a good day, whether you celebrate Turkey Day or not (^⁠‿⁠^⁠)
I don't have much to say about this ficlet, except for the fact I might continue this at some point 乁⁠(⁠ ⁠•⁠_⁠•⁠ ⁠)⁠ㄏ no clue, but I do see a lot of potential for this!
Have a good morning/day/night!
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honeyrins · 1 year
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[BATMAN] Then vs. Now! Old Friends, New Problems, Same Habits
♦️ Do you know what I am?
🦇 My punishment for dropping out of med school
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batfamluvr · 7 months
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Bat-Boys in Bed
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I couldn’t find a good gif, sue me
Dick Grayson’s mouth is filthy. And he gets enough praise, so I think he’d be into praising you instead.” You’re so pretty, all fucked-out and dumb…just for me” as he pounds into you, panting in between words.
He’d also be into touchy sex positions, like missionary where he can hook his nose into your neck and wrap his arms around you. Dick would be into you giving him hickies.
I think Dick has an insane stamina—round after round. His hips would meet yours at a punishing pace as he muttered out praise,” this cunt is so warm and wet for me. My beautiful girl.” And he place wet kisses to your neck and cheeks.
Dick isn’t above moaning, but he’s not pornographic about it.i see him whimpering and begging if he’s getting a blow job or if you’re on top and teasing him, but I don’t see him moaning as much or more than you.
Jason Todd isn’t much of a talker during sex, but I do believe he moans. He’d be a lot more gentle with you than popular belief thinks. Especially if we’re talking older, mature Jason who’s passed his “fresh from the pit madness.”
I do believe Jason has a choking kink and I’ll die on this hill. And it doesn’t have to be his hand around your throat or vice versa. It can be him shoving his cock to the back of your throat and feeling you pulse and throb around him.
He enjoys, mature Jason too, seeing your eyes go wide and glassy. Jason loves to pull his cock from your mouth after you’ve had enough and seeing your lips plump and pink. He loves the slight flush of your tits.
Jason is a lot more eager to switch roles and be on the bottom than Dick. If you’re feeling top-ish and want to ride. Jason wouldn’t argue as you ground down on him, rolling your hips and leaving a trail of slick on his pelvis.
He’d beg through covered lips as you shushed him and picked up your pace, driving your hips forward and giving Jason the release he’d been craving.
I don’t know enough about Tim or Duke, sorry.
Bruce is harder to read because there’s decades of lore, canon, and stuff that’s not in the main continuity. Many writers have different versions of him that some favorite—however, here goes.
Bruce is a control freak. Whether you planned it or not, you’d end up in a dom/sub dynamic. He’d be choosing your clothes, picking which jewelry he buys, telling you when to cum before you even realize it.
I also think he has a power imbalance kink, just a little bit. Nothing extreme or megalomaniacal. So I truly believe you wouldn’t be rich (sorry lol); you’d maybe be a lesser known vigilante, and that’s if Bruce is healthily interested in you. I believe you’d be a civilian, but a smart and compassionate one. We know Bruce isn’t one to dumb himself down for company; we know Bruce is attracted to smart women, but none of his past relationships worked because they didn’t have a heart ( I love Talia, but he real; she wasn’t Mother Teresa).
This one may lose people, but I believe Bruce has a breeding kink. It would be a chance for him to restart. His only blood child is an arrogant, cold assassin and the rest of his children are masked vigilantes who dance with death nightly. But with you, his love, he could have a child not born in pain and anger. He’s older and wiser; he’s not as vengeful and mission oriented as he was when he adopted Dick and Jason; Tim sought him out, and Damian came with a chip on his shoulder.
Bruce is unyielding in his refusal to switch places. He’s too paranoid and enjoys control too much to bottom. The closest you’ll get to topping is bossing him around from the bottom.” faster, pretty boy.” You reached up and caressed his face as his pace stuttered and he spilled into you, gasping and groaning as he did.
You wouldn’t be fucked in the suit or the Batmobile. And he hates being called Batman in bed. The closest you’d get to mixing sex with his vigilante life is getting fucked in the Batcomputer seat.
Damian Wayne is the kinkiest Batfam member. I see Damian, who didn’t undergo such a beautiful arc, having a blood and bondage kink.
Damian preferred to tie you down rather than tie you up. He cares for you, and tying you up puts you in an uncomfortable position (he doesn’t want that) and it screws with your circulation. And if he ties you down, he can see your face as he places the vibrator right on your clit. He can see you try to knock your knees—to no avail.
Damian loved to take a small knife and inflict a wound, if you can even call it that. It was feather soft, and you loved when he would wrap his mouth around the wound and suck the blood. Then he’d kiss you, letting the saliva and metallic taste mingle.
I believe Damian would be into hickies and spanking too, but not the for the violence like I see from the kinkier side of the fandom. He would be into hickies, spanking, bandage, and blood play for the markings. It all boiled down to markings. And that’s not to claim that those activities didn’t get you both off, but Damian’s true enjoyment stemmed from the possessiveness of it all.
That’s why he likes to untie you and massage the rope imprints, then walk you to the mirror and spin you around, letting you see all the prints and marks. He could feel himself harden again, but he knew he’d break you if he ever tried to impose his libido and stamina on you.
Don’t kill me, but Damian isn’t into cunnilingus. He also wouldn’t bottom, not like you’d want him to. If, and that’s a huge “if” ( it’s months into the relationship too), he does bottom, it’s not traditional bottoming. Damian would top from the bottom,” go slower, grind harder, beloved.” And he’d grip your hips hard enough to leave prints, because marks, duh!
Damian likes sloppy blow jobs. I know he’s proper and clean, but trust me. Spit, moans, and whimpers; that’s what gets him off. And seeing your cheeks flush and your breathing quicken, but you keep going lower and taking more of him in. He appreciates the determination, and it makes him feel in control, huge, and dominant which strokes his ego.
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spacedace · 1 year
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Something I've seen in fics a few times but not for comedic effect is the idea that Constantine selling his soul so many times makes him look/feel Wrong to ghosts.
Like I love various Danny ghost shenanigans giving Constantine a heart attack in stories but just imagine that Constantine is like deeply, deeply unsettling for Ghosts & Liminals to be around.
To the point of whenever he and Danny meet for the first time at the Watchtower after Danny's joined the League, Constantine just walks in and upon turning to look at who just walked in Danny just shrieks like a small child and throws a chair at him out of reflex, diving behind Captain Marvel to use him as a magical human meat shield while screeching "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT???! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!" At the top of his lungs and doesn't stop until Batman makes Constantine leave.
Even after Zantanna explains Constantine's whole deal and Danny explains to the Justice League how totally fucked up that looks/feels like to him ("Dude, Ghosts are their core, for us you see that before you see the shape of whoever you're talking to. Like, imagine someone walks up to you with a face that looks like it's made out of a shattered plate and the pieces are bleeding"
Or like, imagine instead it's a thing were Jason and Jazz are dating and Jazz, Danny & Elle are invited over for a nice meet the family brunch - "Brunch is fun and casual!" Dick insisted, "Way less intimidating than if we had them over for dinner!") and Constantine pops in to talk to Bruce about a case.
And the second he walks into the room all three just shriek like they're from an episode of Scooby Doo.
Elle takes one look at Constantine and just nopes out of there so hard she doesn't even gk intangible as she throws herself out the window and starts flying for the hills. Danny screeches like a cat whose tail has been stepped on and jumps onto the ceiling and scrambles away. Jazz screams like a house wife from an old Looney Tunes cartoon and starts climbing Jason like a tree - which is a bit of a problem since she's half a foot taller than Jay and throwing his center of balance off a bit and now half of the plates are smashed on the floor.
Jason doesn't even notice though because he also is losing his shit over what the fuck that thing is and unlike Elle is far more interested in Fight rather than Flight and pulls out a gun - "Why'd you bring a gun to brunch?! Guns aren't fun or casual!" - and just starts unloading on Constantine (who is very lucky Jason has switched to non lethal rounds and that he's quick enough with his spells to largely keep most of the rubber bullets from hitting him) also while screaming at the top of his lungs.
And well, turns out Jason's new girlfriend is the older sister of that ghost hero the League's been looking to recruit and Bruce is gonna take advantage of that - Phantom has been hard to pin down, which is fair, bad history with government agencies trying to kill him and all - to talk to him about a place with JL, though first he's going to have to get him down from the ceiling and that'd be a lot easier if Constantine would just leave already, they are supposed to be having a family brunch this is his one day off!
(Elle screams her all the way to Metropolis and doesn't stop until she nearly knocks Superman out of the sky. He isn’t really sure what's going on, but he does manage to calm her down and takes her to go get some ice cream. When he pitches joining JL she tells him that she thinks he's kinda lame but that Superboy is cool so she's down. It's...honestly kinda devastating but Clark manages to get through it.
A note gets made when the two ghost heroes officially join the League that partnerships with Constantine should be kept at an absolute minimum.)
And lol yeah, just, Constantine being utterly terrifying to Danny and the Pham
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floralcyanidee · 8 months
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ᴛʀɪᴘʟᴇ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇ
Bruce Wayne x Reader x Jonathan Crane (NSFW)
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When you notice Dr. Jonathan Crane watching you and your husband at a fundraising party, you get a little curious. When Dr. Crane angers you, he presses you to explore that anger. Will he regret it?
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warnings: smut, nipple play, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (both vaginal and anal), oral sex, cock warming, anal sex, anal fingering, blowjobs, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, porn without much plot, masturbation, forced masturbation, threesome, male x male, male x female, male x male x female, cum swallowing, spitting, face sitting, face fucking, crying, sub/dom tones, dom!reader, sub!jonathan, kinda sub!bruce but not really, ya know, just pure filth
word count: 5254
author’s note: welcome to our one-way ticket to hell besties <3 I didn't proofread this because it just poured out of me and I was truly possessed by the writing demon today. I had an idea and literally ran with it. I don't think I've ever written something so filthy before lol please enjoy and give feedback!! READ THE WARNINGS this fic isn't for everyone tbh.
main masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here
MOODBOARD FOR THIS FIC
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One thing about being married to the Bruce Wayne was he had a thing for throwing parties and fundraisers at your mansion. This meant you had to dress up quite a bit, and you had to look really good as you were Bruce’s wife, of course. He always ensured you had the newest and most gorgeous gowns to show off at the gatherings. You’d spend the whole day getting your hair, makeup, and nails done, only to be at the parties for a few hours. And that was usually because Bruce had other duties in the city, he got too distracted by what you were wearing and needed you right then, or he simply let his antisocial side creep up on him. Tonight at the fundraiser he’s throwing, he seems content and has been by your side most of the night. Nothing drastic was going on in the city that demanded his action. But something was bothering him, you could tell. He’s slightly off, and you catch him staring at someone in the crowd a few times. You’re never able to pick them out, though. 
You and Bruce are by the champagne table, and you notice Bruce is gazing out into the crowd of partygoers again.
“Bruce?” you ask softly, putting a hand on his bicep, “You alright?”
Bruce blinks hard a few times before turning to you, “I’m fine, darling.”
“You sure? You seem distracted by something this evening,” you scan the room, but to no avail for whomever Bruce is focused on.
“I just thought I recognized someone,” Bruce says, sipping his drink.
“Hmm. Alright, then.”
“Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?” Bruce smiles, letting a hand slide across the small of your back.
“Only about a thousand times,” you giggle, leaning into your husband.
You happen to look up, and that’s when you see him staring at the two of you. Dr. Jonathan Crane. He quickly averts his eyes away, but you have already caught him.
“Is it Dr. Crane that you recognize?” you ask Bruce, motioning to where he’s standing with some other rich psychologists.
“Yeah,” Bruce exhales, shrugging, “I thought he had left the city a while ago.”
“After the asylum got turned loose? I figured so, too. Oh well,” you say, looking up at Bruce, “If he’s here, then he’s donating, so maybe it’s not so bad.”
“You have a point,” Bruce raises his eyebrows, “I’m still keeping an eye on him, though.”
You knew of a few of the villains Bruce has come in contact with, including Jonathan. He had almost killed your best friend and sent the whole city insane. Who knows what would have happened to Gotham if it weren't for Bruce. But a part of you is curious about Jonathan- a deep, intellectual part of you. Why is he still here? Is he still a doctor? Your brain becomes dizzy with all the questions. If Jonathan is here acting casually on his own accord, you could, too. You tear away from Bruce without a word, drink in hand. Bruce calls after you, panic surging through him when he realizes where you’re headed.
“Dr. Crane,” you smile upon arriving in front of him and another psychologist, “Wonderful to see you here.”
“Ah, Mrs. Wayne. I wouldn’t miss a marvelous party for a good cause. Have you met Dr. Robin here?” Jonathan smiles back, not missing a single beat.
“I have not,” you look over to the tall woman in front of Jonathan, clad in a pantsuit. You reach out a hand for her to shake, “Y/N Wayne.”
“I know who you are, Mrs. Wayne,” Dr. Robin says politely, her Australian accent strong, “Your dress is quite lovely, I must say.”
“Thank you,” you reply with a smile, willing her to leave so you could speak with Jonathan alone. 
“Well, I’ll be off. Seems you two have something to discuss,” Dr. Robin announces her departure, much to your relief.
“It was nice meeting you,” you say sweetly as she walks away.
“You as well, Mrs. Wayne.”
You turn to Jonathan, who clears his throat as he looks you up and down. You’re nearly the same height as him, if not slightly taller, in your heels. 
“It’s really brave of you to be here, Dr. Crane,” you turn your head to the side, giving him a closed-lip smile.
“Please, call me Jonathan,” Jonathan responds, “And what would you mean by that?”
You take a step closer to him, leaning into his ear, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Jonathan. Or should I say, Mr. Scarecrow.”
Jonathan doesn’t flinch. In fact, he grins at you as he exhales a laugh, “Those days are behind me, I’m afraid.”
“Uh-huh,” you cross your arms, “And why should I believe you?”
Jonathan glances behind you to look at Bruce, who is on edge and watching the entire conversation to ensure nothing is tried. A muscle in Jonathan’s jaw twitches, “You don’t have to. But if I were up to no good, why would I be in the presence of the Batman and his lover? Quite unintelligent, wouldn’t you think?”
“And why are you here, exactly?” 
“Trying to get myself back into the Gotham scene,” Jonathan looks at you matter-of-factly, “I’ve missed a lot being gone, you know.”
“Oh, I do know. And maybe you should’ve stayed gone,” you try not to snarl at him.
“Now, now, Mrs. Wayne. That is no way to speak to a donor,” Jonathan says, his voice dripping like honey with malice.
“You better be glad there are people around or-”
“Or what?” Jonathan asks, raising his eyebrows, a smirk itching at his lips.
“I’d fucking break you right here.”
“Sounds like a fun time. However, I’m not sure your husband would appreciate that in many, many ways.”
You scoff, “Don’t be crass. I’m not flirting with you. If I were, you’d know it.”
“There’s a fine line between desire and hatred, my dear,” Jonathan whispers in your ear, causing goosebumps to arise on your skin, “It’s a fun line to walk.”
Annoyance swells in your chest. You desperately wanted him to shut his bratty mouth. You also wanted to enjoy the rest of the party, but now that Jonathan had you riled up in anger, you wanted nothing more than to slam him against the wall and-
“Everything okay over here?” Bruce approaches suddenly, taking you by surprise.
“Everything is fine, sweetheart,” you place your hand on Bruce’s chest as a warning, “Nothing to worry about.”
“Dr. Crane isn’t bothering you, is he?” Bruce’s nostrils flare.
“Not at all,” you defend the doctor, “In fact, I’m probably annoying him.”
Bruce laughs humorlessly, “Oh, is that so?”
You cock your head at him, “Did you need something, dear?”
“Just want to speak with you privately,” Bruce says.
You go to say something, but Bruce interrupts you, “Both of you.”
If Jonathan is just as confused as you are, he doesn’t show it. 
“Lead the way, Mr. Wayne.”
Bruce walks briskly to one of the guest rooms down the hall from the ballroom, making sure no one is following or watching the three of you. He ushers you and Jonathan inside, following suit before closing the door behind him. 
“You know,” Jonathan says, breaking the silence, “I never pegged Mrs. Wayne for the threatening type out of the two of you.”
You bite your tongue, and Bruce looks over at you.
“Say what you want to say. I brought the two of you in here so you could solve your conversation away from those nosy fuckers outside,” Bruce rolls his eyes, fixing his cuff links.
“We aren’t children, Bruce,” you scowl.
“Then act like it,” Bruce sasses back.
“I do not need two men on my bad side right now. Remember what happens when you’re on my bad side, Bruce?”
Bruce looks between you and Jonathan, a hint of nervousness in his eye, “Don’t bring him into this, darling.”
“No, no. I’m curious now,” Jonathan grins deviously, stepping closer to you, “What happens when someone is on your bad side, Mrs. Wayne?”
Now realizing how your words and threats may have sounded all night to Jonathan, you backpedal.
“Not what you think, Dr. Crane,” you cross your arms, taking a step back from the doctor.
“Oh really? So your antagonizing and threats don’t mean anything?”
“What do you think they mean?”
“As I said earlier, desire and hatred are very close to one another,” Jonathan says suavely, “And I honestly can’t tell which you feel toward me.”
You make a disgusted sound despite the growing need to pin this man down and give him what for. Not even sexually, but simply because you’re tired of him speaking. However, Jonathan wasn’t bad-looking by any means- and sometimes, you and Bruce liked to try new things. But you don’t think Bruce would want to fuck with a murderer and criminal, especially one he’s had close encounters within the city. Jonathan almost burned him alive once, so you aren’t sure about whatever he’s insinuating going very far with your husband. 
“Hatred,” you spit, “It’s hatred. Plus,” you look over at Bruce, “I don’t think my lover would appreciate me having anything to do with you anyway.”
Jonathan snorts, his eyes flickering between you and your husband, “Are you so sure about that?”
You furrow your brow, laughing incredulously at him, “I’m certain.”
“I don’t know,” Bruce says suddenly, “I wouldn’t mind seeing the fucker squirm on your account, Y/N.”
You nearly gasped, suddenly very aware of the animosity you were aiming at Dr. Jonathan Crane, now becoming sexual in nature. Not that you meant for it to, but now that it was insinuated out loud by someone other than Jonathan, you pondered your true feelings. As you’ve said, Jonathan was a looker. If you weren’t married to Bruce and the man wasn’t psychotic, you wouldn’t mind taking him for a ride. But you are married, and he is psychotic. 
Jonathan has his hands shoved in his pockets, a smirk on his face as he studies you, “You want this. Don’t deny it, Mrs. Wayne. I can tell by the look in your eyes.”
You purse your lips together, “What I want is for you to shut up and behave. All you do is act high and mighty when you’re nothing but a little rat.”
Bruce tries to hide his laugh by covering it with a cough, “I’ll let everyone know it’s time to leave. When I come back, you two better be taking care of things.”
You look at Bruce, who gives you a slight nod in approval to do as you wish before he steps out of the room. No one is in charge in the bedroom permanently between the two of you. The dominant role is shared or is back and forth, depending on the day. To your shock, Bruce gives you the complete reins in this situation. But Bruce knew how much you despised Dr. Crane for what he’s done, even if a part of you is desperately curious about him. Desperate enough to demean him sexually, even. You want to humiliate him. Make him cry and make him regret having even come here. You want him to think of you whenever he feels shame or embarrassment for the rest of his life. 
“A little rat, huh?” Jonathan chuckles, undoing his cufflinks.
“Yes,” you blink, forcing him to walk backward to the bed as he struggles to remove his blazer.
You shove him roughly onto the bed, watching him bounce from the mattress with a look of disorientation. Jonathan eventually gets his blazer off, discarding it onto the floor. You can’t properly climb on the bed with your gown on, so you reach behind your back, undoing the clasps that hold the silver dress together. You kick off your glittery heels, letting the gown slip to the floor in a pile. Underneath your dress, you decided a black lingerie set would do nicely. You’re glad you picked well, considering such a doting man was now staring at you like you were a piece of meat and he was starving. You try to ignore the logical side of your brain telling you this man is dangerous and crazy. But the other side of your brain is telling you that his cock is definitely dangerous and crazy, too. And you wanted to find out for sure. 
“Now,” you begin to crawl to where Jonathan wordlessly lays, watching you carefully, “Are you going to be good and keep your mouth shut, pretty boy?”
“No promises,” Jonathan flashes a toothy grin, and you angrily rip his button-up open, buttons flying everywhere across the room.
Jonathan’s mouth hangs open, “That was an expensive shirt.”
“Nothing you can’t replace,” you shrug, running your hands along Jonathan’s handsome chest before letting your nails graze his nipples.
Jonathan shudders at the feeling, and you remove your hands from him, sitting back on your heels, “Lay on the pillows.”
“Ma’am, yes ma’am,” Jonathan purrs, doing as told, surprisingly.
You hear the door open behind you, and you turn around quickly to see Bruce.
“Everyone is cleared out. Brought some fun stuff, too,” he places a box on the floor, kicking it to the end of the bed for you to grab it.
You lean down over the edge of the bed and retrieve the box, crawling on your knees to where Jonathan lies. You open the box and hum in satisfaction at Bruce’s choice of toys and trinkets. You fiddle with one toy, dragging your gaze to Jonathan with a wicked smile on your face. But before you reveal the toy, you snatch some rope out of the box.
“Now you have no choice but to be good, Dr. Crane,” you snicker, offering Bruce some of the rope to tie Jonathan’s left wrist to the bedpost with.
You tie Jonathan’s right wrist tight enough for him not to move too much but not enough to where blood flow is cut off. Jonathan tugs at the rope, looking at you and Bruce with a nervous yet exhilarating smile.
“I’m privileged to be living such a fantasy,” Jonathan sighs.
“You’ll be wishing you had never stepped foot in this house when she’s done with you,” Bruce smirks, unbuttoning his shirt cuffs and rolling his sleeves up.
“Ah,” Jonathan laughs.
Before he can comment any further, you shove a ball gag into his mouth, strapping it behind his head securely. A deep feeling of satisfaction to him finally being quiet fills you. But the joy of seeing such an evil man at your mercy is more intense. 
“You better be glad I chose the ball gag instead of having Bruce have his way with that pretty mouth of yours, Crane,” you say, and Bruce shakes his head from where he stands beside the bed.
Drool begins seeping out of the sides of Jonathan’s mouth, and you can’t help but coo at the sight of his tightening pants and his reddening cheeks. You grab his face between your fingers, squishing his flesh. You hum in satisfaction before letting go of his face and focusing on his slacks. You all but tear his belt off his hips, hurrying to unbutton his pants before ripping them down his thighs. Bruce removes the pants the rest of the way as you climb onto Jonathan’s lap, your clothed core atop his throbbing, leaking bulge.
You kiss Jonathan’s jaw, leaving harsh bites along the column of his throat as you travel down, continuing your assault on the skin of his chest and torso. You reach the band of his underwear, which you tease with your hands, snapping the band against Jonathan’s skin. He tries his best to laugh from underneath the ball gag, spit sputtering from the gaps of his mouth. You slowly peel his underwear down his legs, watching as his hard cock slaps against his stomach. You let Bruce pull the underwear off completely, and he tosses it somewhere in the room to be found later. You lean down to lick the bead of precum off Jonathan's tip before pulling away completely, allowing Bruce the room to tie up the doctor’s ankles to the bottom bedposts. You stand at the foot of the bed, chuckling darkly as Jonathan struggles against the restraints. 
“Not so powerful now, are you, Dr. Crane?” you laugh, knowing he didn’t like you calling him by his professional name, “You look so pathetic, lying there with your poor cock out for us to see. Bet you wish one of us would touch it for you, hmm?”
Jonathan stays silent, his eyes boring into yours as he yanks his arms, testing the rope’s strength. He realizes he truly can’t move or speak and that he’s entirely at you and Bruce’s mercy. Not the worst position to be in, Jonathan thinks. 
“Which of us should do the honors?” you ask Bruce, a playful smile on your face. 
It isn’t often Bruce gets to mess with the other man during your experimental sexual encounters. Still, you figure this is personal enough for him to want to be involved. 
“You can take this one. I’ve got other plans,” Bruce says, smirking deviously.
“Oh really?” you grin, “I’m excited to see those.”
You climb back on the bed, moving toward Jonathan’s lap, where his weeping cock is getting redder by the second. Grabbing the base of it, you move it forward enough for it to meet your lips. You lap your tongue on Jonathan’s tip, smearing the precum around before licking a stripe up his entire length. You pull away, letting his cock slap painfully against his stomach again. You harshly grip Jonathan’s balls, causing him to cry out muffled. You massage them as you take his length into your mouth, bobbing your head as you continue to take him in entirely. You press your breasts into the bed, letting your ass be exposed for Bruce to take advantage of as you suck off Jonathan. Bruce wastes no time walking over to you, letting his hands run over your asscheeks before he pulls your pretty black underwear off. Bruce dips his head down to flatten his tongue against your wet slit, gathering your arousal as he swirls it around your cunt. You moan around Jonathan’s cock, causing him to twitch. 
“God, I love this pussy,” Bruce pants against you, “Too bad you can’t get a taste, Crane.”
You peer your eyes up to Jonathan’s, his icy blue eyes now dark from his blown pupils. He’s glaring at Bruce, trying to regulate his breathing as his tip hits the back of your throat. Jonathan’s eyes roll into the back of his head as you fuck him with your mouth, letting his cock slam into your throat. Jonathan tries to thrust into your mouth, but you push his hips down against the mattress. You’re slobbering, and tears are streaming down your face as you take his length as much as you can, wanting him to get as close to cumming as possible. Bruce sucks your clit harshly, letting two fingers slip into your wet pussy. You groan, the vibrations sending Jonathan batty. You feel him getting close, and you blindly fumble around for the box of toys that still remains on the bed somewhere. You find it, pulling off Jonthan’s cock as it twitches uncontrollably. He growls as you find the toy you were looking for. You give Jonathan a few pumps, gripping his length as tight as you can, watching as the precum helplessly spills from him. Before Jonathan can react or cum, you slip a cock ring onto him, sliding it down to his base. He cries out from behind the ball gag, his chest heaving. You lay your head on his thigh, watching as his cock turns bright red. Bruce continues to eat you out, his teeth brushing against your clit occasionally, causing you to moan. Your breath hits Jonathan’s angry length, making him shiver. You look him in the eyes as Bruce adds a third finger, fucking into your g spot harshly as he bites at your bundle of nerves. You maintain eye contact with Jonathan as you cum, letting your nails dig into the soft flesh on his thighs.
“Lucky for me,” you trace Jonathan’s tip teasingly with your finger, catching your breath, “I get to cum as much as I want.”
Jonathan stares at you without making a sound, focusing on his breathing so he doesn’t explode into a fine mist from the overstimulation. 
“Now it’s your turn since you’ve been a good boy,” you remove the ball gag from Jonathan’s mouth, licking up his spit from his lips before he can lick it off himself.
“Open your mouth,” you demand, and Jonathan does as told.
You gather his and your saliva in your mouth before spitting it onto his tongue. 
“Now show me how good you are at eating pussy, Dr. Crane.”
You flip yourself around, hovering over Jonathan’s face as you slowly remove the cock ring. Bruce removes his button-up, laying down between Jonathan’s spread legs. Jonathan lets out a strangled cry at the feeling of Bruce’s hot mouth on his sensitive cock. You push your pulsing cunt onto Jonathan’s face, to which he happily starts lapping hungrily. You watch as Bruce hollows his cheeks around Jonathan, and the sight alone makes you even wetter than before. 
“Fuck,” you mutter, Bruce’s eyes meeting yours.
You rock your hips against Jonathan’s tongue, urging him to continue. Jonathan wishes he could bury his fingers in your cunt, but he settles for his tongue instead. Twisting and pushing it inside you, he uses his nose to press against your clit, shaking his head. You grip Jonathan’s hair, cursing at the feeling of his tongue dragging in your walls and his nose flicking your bundle of nerves. You grasp your barely clothed breasts, letting your thumbs play with your nipples through the thin lace. Bruce moans around Jonathan while watching you, letting Jonathan fuck into his throat.
“Wanna cum, you piece of shit?” Bruce pulls off Jonathan, who gasps a ‘yes,’ “Be careful what you ask for,” Bruce chuckles.
You plan on milking the doctor for all he’s got all night. You want him spent and begging for mercy. Anything to make him miserable.
Bruce takes Jonathan back into his mouth, bobbing up and down quickly and stroking what he won’t take into his mouth. Bruce allows Jonathan to buck his hips into his face. Jonathan lets out a pitiful cry as he cums in your husband’s mouth, white-hot spurts of seed shooting down Bruce’s throat. You feel Jonathan roll your clit between his teeth before sucking it between his lips as he rides his high. You growl, letting your self-control go out the window. You chase your own high, letting Jonathan torture and tease your bundle of nerves with his tongue and teeth until you finally release in his mouth. Jonathan slurps and suckles every drop of your arousal from your cunt, licking until you pull off him. 
“Lucky for you,” you pant, beginning to untie the rope bound to Jonathan’s wrists, “This next part requires your cooperation. Promise you’ll behave?”
“Yes, Mrs. Wayne,” Jonathan nods.
You let Bruce finish untying the doctor as you discard your bra. You instruct Jonathan to move to the side, allowing you to lie down in his place. You demand that Jonathan climb on top of you. he does as told, and Bruce roughly pushes Jonthan’s face into your chest. You laugh at Bruce’s typical roughness, especially when it makes Jonathan look flustered. His ass is now in the air, revealed to Bruce. 
“Have you ever been fucked in the ass like a good boy?” you ask Jonathan, your fingers in his hair.
He doesn’t look at you or respond.
“I’m asking you a question, Jonathaaan,” you say threateningly, your fingers now gripping his hair harshly as you lift his head for him to look at you.
“No,” Jonathan says breathlessly.
“Well, that’s about to change,” you say, “Any regrets about being smart-mouthed to me yet, Dr. Crane?”
Jonathan glares at you, panting as Bruce spreads his ass apart, “Not yet.”
“Good,” you smile, letting his head drop abc to your chest, “Now obey me and show me how much you’re enjoying this.”
You move Jonathan’s face, maneuvering his mouth to your hardened and sensitive nipple. Bruce takes some lube from the box he brought, smearing it against his fingers before teasing Jonathan’s asshole with the tip of his index finger. Jonathan keens around you, his body beginning to shake as Bruce slowly pushes a finger inside him. Jonathan sucks harshly on your nipple, gasping as your husband wiggles his finger inside his tight ass. He laps at your bud, focusing on trying to please you and taking Bruce’s long finger simultaneously. A second finger is added, stretching Jonathan further. The doctor lets out a sharp groan at the delectable burn. He attacks your other breast, letting his finger circle around the one he was just attached to. Bruce prods a third finger into Jonathan, and he lurches forward from the feeling of fullness. 
“If you think you’re full now, just wait for Bruce’s fat cock, baby boy,” you taunt.
Bruce twists and curls his fingers inside Jonathan, doing his best to prep him for his unforgiving length. When he pulls his hand away, Jonathan gasps from the sudden emptiness. Bruce spreads his ass apart again, his slacks and underwear now discarded as his hardened cock pressed against Joanthan’s gaping hole. Jonathan whimpers around your nipple, pausing momentarily as Bruce slides himself into Jonathan. 
“Fuck,” Jonathan shudders.
“You can stop now. I need you elsewhere,” you pull Jonathan’s head off your breasts, sneaking your hand between the two of you to his newly hardened cock, stroking it in your hand in time for Bruce to bottom out. 
Jonathan whines, collapsing on your torso as the air leaves him.
“Tapped out already?” you pout, sticking your bottom lip out at Jonathan when you lift his head by his hair again, “Too fucking bad.”
Bruce then pulls out of Jonathan almost all the way before slamming back into him, his tip brushing against Jonathan’s prostate. Jonathan screams as you guide his cock between your slick folds, his body overstimulated. You let Jonathan weakly push his length inside your soaking cunt, your walls enveloping him immediately. Bruce wraps an arm around Jonathan’s chest, anchoring himself to the doctor. His other hand grips Jonathan’s hip with intensity. The feeling of Bruce pounding into Jonathan’s tight little ass affects you directly as Jonathan pushes deeper inside you every time Bruce thrusts into him. Soon, a rhythm is established, and you’re nearly in tears from pleasure as you watch Jonathan become a withering, crying mess underneath Bruce. 
“Doing so good taking Bruce’s huge cock,” you praise Jonathan, bucking your hips with his every time he involuntarily moves forward, “You could at least try a little harder to fuck me like you want to, though.”
Jonathan’s forehead is teeming with sweat as he struggles to actually thrust into you while Bruce fucks into his prostate. You give him the benefit of the doubt- the first time getting fucked in the ass is intense. So you rock and swivel your hips on Jonathan’s cock roughly, letting him reach up to grab your breasts for leverage. He pinches your nipples, twisting them hard, sending electricity to your cunt. You pulse around Jonathan’s length, causing him to grunt miserably. Bruce’s hips are slapping onto Jonathan’s asscheeks loudly, and Jonathan’s cock twitches pitifully inside you.
“Cum, sweet thing,” you coax Jonathan, whose hair has long since lost its gel hold and has begun flopping into his face, “Cum inside me.”
Jonathan starts fucking into you the best he can, tears streaming down his face as he cums, a hoarse scream leaving his throat. Bruce is still fucking him without mercy, and you let Jonathan’s soft cock remain inside you as he whimpers helplessly, his hands gripping your sides.
“That’s it,” you praise him gently, “Let Batman fuck you silly like you deserve.”
Jonathan peers up at you, giving you the dirtiest look he can muster as you cackle, Bruce grunting as he cums inside Jonthan’s ass and on his back. 
“Christ,” Bruce sighs, pushing his hair from his face as he winces, pulling out of Jonathan’s quivering asshole.
Jonathan collapses on top of you in a mess of sweat, tears, and cum. You let him catch his breath before sliding out from under him.
“One last thing, sweetie,” you say, your tone sugary, “Sit up on the bed for us.”
Jonathan weakly pushes himself up, flipping onto his back and laying his head on the pillows.
“Touch yourself,” you demand, sitting on your knees at the end of the bed beside Bruce, “I want you to cum until you can’t cum anymore.”
Jonathan opens his mouth to protest, but you motion for him to shush, to which he tiredly gives in. You dip your hand to your slick clit, swiping at it as Jonathan strokes his sensitive cock for you. Bruce watches you and Jonathan touch yourselves, unable to really get himself up again. He instead sits behind you, playing with your tits and rubbing his large hands on your hot, sticky skin. Bruce relishes in watching Jonathan fall apart as he looks away in embarrassment.
“Keep your eyes on me, Crane,” Bruce’s voice booms, making Jonathan jump.
Jonathan gulps, reluctantly keeping eye contact with Bruce as he bucks into his hand, moaning hoarsely as he gets close. He can’t help but think about how he was between the two of you, getting fucked by you and Bruce at the same time. With that, cum shoots from his overused cock onto his stomach, and he cries out in embarrassment when you demand he get off again.
You stay like that, letting Bruce replace your hand as you spread your legs further open to allow him to fuck you with his fingers. You bounce on them, moaning quietly as Jonathan fights to keep his eyes open, his wrist flicking to the best of his ability. The night goes on, and Jonathan eventually taps out, sobbing almost uncontrollably as he runs out of cum. You and Bruce give him time alone before slowly moving him to the shower, where you help him wash off. You and your husband also washed yourselves off, assisting Jonathan out of the shower when you were all done. He’s wrapped in a towel, wincing as he walks back to the bed and curls up under the covers. You follow suit, wrapping your arms around Jonathan and soothing him as he finally falls asleep. Bruce holds you from behind, sighing contently.
“Too bad it takes doing this to humble a villain,” Bruce jokes.
“And the fact I could help was exciting,” you chuckle, “I never get to fight criminals like you do.”
“Maybe you should. You’ve got the mouth for it. Your sass is unmatched,” Bruce buries his nose in your hair.
“Mmm, I think I’m good,” you say, stroking Jonathan’s hair out of his face, “One villain is enough for me, I think.”
You and Bruce quietly watch the evil, despicable fucker sleep soundly. 
“Can we keep him?” you ask Bruce, to which he tries not to burst out laughing.
“So you can torture him more? Absolutely.”
“Awesome.”
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emo-batboy · 2 months
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Somewhere out there in the DC multiverse, there’s a world where Battinson’s parents didn’t die, and he became the Lance Stroll of Formula One racing. Wayne Enterprises has an F1 team, Thomas brought Bruce to races when he was young, they indulged his love of cars until he was winning kart races at 8. He BEGGED to help design the race cars, ended up making a great car, and now Wayne has turned from a midfield team to nearly top three.
You’d think everyone hates Bruce because he’s a nepo baby, but he’s just so nice and smiley (like Lance lol) that everyone loves him anyway. His dad is the team’s chairman and pretty hands-on just like Lawrence Stroll. Fans call Bruce the F1 Princess as a joke since he’s already the Prince of Gotham, but then it sticks, and now everyone makes edits of him with tiaras on every time he makes it to the podium. He doesn’t get it, but he’s not going to complain either. His fans are just silly. (He blushes so much when anyone calls him princess to his face, though. Fight me.)
Bruce still insists on everything being black because it’s his favorite color. It was already mostly black before he joined, but now it’s even blacker. His suit is all black. The car is all black. The helmet is all black. He loves it. He looks just like the dark, regal old money rich boy you’d imagine until he’s smiling and talking about racing. (Imagine a meme with two cars next to each other, one being WE’s. It says: “Bruce’s Car v. Bruce’s Personality.” The other one is covered in glitter obv.) One time, a little girl gives him a tiara that she painted black herself and asks him to wear it if he wins. (He does win. He puts it on at the podium. He’s embarrassed the entire time. The champagne rubs some of the black away. It’s a treasured memory and sits right on top in his trophy case.)
His fellow drivers call him Brucie to tease him. He’s a bit awkward during interviews, but that just makes him endearing. He’s also tall for an F1 driver (nepo baby core) so there’s always jokes about him towering over everyone. One time, he came second to Lewis Hamilton, but you could still see he was visibly standing taller on the podium, and people would not stop making jokes about it. (It was mostly his hair, but you know how Twitter is.) Speaking of hair, it will NOT stay flat. He looks insane every time he takes his helmet off. He could be sweating for hours in there but when he takes the thing off, he looks like he’s through in a tornado. (Again, memes.) He knows so much about car mechanics, even for a driver, and will regularly start talking to other drivers or the press about the tiniest of parts in the engine or break system, unaware that everyone is completely lost. (Also memes about that.)
When he’s 23, he suffers a pretty bad crash. It knocks him out for about twenty seconds, and his mom and dad are ready to pull him completely from the sport, but he refuses to stop, and despite missing a few races to recover—his dad’s still a doctor—he ends up winning the next race and gets to stay.
During his F1 career, it’s pretty much guaranteed that he’ll get fastest laps, but he only gets podium like 40–50% of the time. There’s always drama that apparently Wayne Enterprises is trying to become top three, but they insist that they’re not as competitive. They will always have respect for every team, and it shows. They never join in on protests. They always wish the other teams luck, and they genuinely congratulate the winners. Bruce is always the first to hug the winner :)
Before Bruce joined, the Wayne team was always a midfield team, and they were perfectly comfortable with it. WE had good-looking cars, they designed good-looking cars, and they sold good-looking cars, and F1 was just a way of promoting that. Thomas loved watching the races, and he was happy to see them get podium a few times per season, and that was it.
Until Bruce became their lead driver, and he wanted to really earn his seat, and he wanted to get podium, and he wanted to design a faster car, and he wanted to win, and Thomas Wayne couldn’t say no to his son, and suddenly Wayne Enterprises was inching closer and closer to the front of the grid. Now, they’re still not The Best, but they’re a team that future drivers look up to.
During a season of DTS, Bruce is 27. Netflix films the Wayne episode when there’s a fatal crash in F2, and Bruce was nearby when it happened. He ends up crying on camera for ten minutes. They had to cut almost all of it, but we get the most gut-wrenching confessional about how after he heard the news, in that moment, he didn’t want to be an F1 driver. He admits that if he hadn’t become a driver, he was going to become a doctor like his father, and he wonders if he could have saved the driver’s life if he did that instead. “What am I really doing if I can’t help others? I could have been anything…Maybe being a driver was selfish. Maybe I don’t belong on the track anymore.”
He’s visibly distraught during the moment of silence on the day of the race, but Bruce decided to continue because he wants to make the fans and spectators happy. (That’s his job, anyway. That’s what he does.) Despite getting pole position the previous day, he doesn’t get fastest lap or make it to the podium, but he still gets fourth. He has a long talk with his father away from cameras and calls his mom. The future’s uncertain for a few days until Bruce comes back to training. To finish the episode, he says he’s going to continue driving, even if he might need a bit of time to get his confidence back, and he pledges to one day make the safest F1 car ever seen. Even if it’s part of the risk of being a driver, he doesn’t want to see any more drivers losing their lives to the sport they love.
When he’s around 35 or 40, he retires from Formula One so he can inherit Wayne Enterprises, and he takes his father’s place as chairman of the team. Since he has the time now, he holds up on his promise to make an even safer car—the designs inspiring safer car designs for other teams as well—and they pick out two incredible drivers who end up finally (FINALLY) moving Wayne Enterprises into one of the top three teams. They win the world championship twice in a row before falling back a bit and only winning it every couple of years, but they’re nonetheless fierce competitors. Bruce still has a ton of kids, some of which like F1 just like he does, but he is the only Wayne to become a Formula One driver.
I just think Battinson would love driving for F1 :)
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lazycats-stuff · 2 months
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Remember when u wrote batbro who's Australian? Now u HAVE TO do Italian! This time with Italian toddler batbro, please little Italian people with their small hand gestures are so funny and so fricking adorable to me I'm tearing up just thinking about it
Yeah, Italians are funny and adorable, but I think it would work better if it's a teen instead of a toddler, so I have to modify that part, I just think it would fit better. Also, 1.3k, thank you guys and yes, I know this is a little bit short, but I do want to get this out for you guys. Also, Italians are my neighboring country lol, so if any Italians are reading this, hi!
Summary: (Y/N) is Italian. The family can't deal with him.
Warnings:
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Bruce, yet again, found out he had another biological child. Another son. Bruce loved his sons, but he could get a daughter for once. Someone who was less chaotic to a certain degree. Turns out, when Bruce had a one night stand with an Italian model, she got pregnant and she didn't say anything to Bruce about his son for 13 years.
Bruce found out when she was put in jail. Bruce didn't know what happened, but he was more numb from the news that he has another son. Not to mention, man with a heavy Italian accent calling him in the middle of the night telling him about his son and Bruce having to call his lawyers...
The amount of paperwork that it took for Bruce to bring (Y/N) to America is nuts. Sure, you have to make sure that both governments know where the child is. The amount of connections Bruce had to pull just to get (Y/N) to the USA is actually insane. Thankfully, (Y/N) would soon get his citizenship and he would be able to keep his Italian citizenship.
Thankfully, both the US and Italy allow people to have multiple citizenships so (Y/N) could go back to Italy without any problems. Bruce and the others need to get visas. (Y/N) laughed at them when he heard that.
But hey, when they go to Italy, they will have a translator. And it's incredible to listen to (Y/N) not knowing English really. They weren't mocking him by any means, but they were crying of laughter a few times when there was some English problems.
But there were another things they didn't know about Italians. For example, (Y/N) was touchy in conversations. And he was closer to them, more in their space. None of them minded them, it was actually nice how closer he was to them because Americans prefer to keep their distance it seems.
And a thing that seemed like are they European or gay thing is the fact they have their little pecks on the cheek. It wasn't anything intimate by any means and it's a way to say hi to guests. Men do it as well so it wasn't gay per say... But then again... Bruce knew that Italy had a different way than Americans.
And by God, (Y/N) had so many cultural shocks. So many. The sizes of food in America... And (Y/N) will forever fight the notion that pineapple belongs on the pizza. He shall defend his Italian heritage and cuisine.
Also, while on the topic of the sizes, everything in America is huge. Cars, buildings... (Y/N) thought that in a way it lacked warmth. And (Y/N) didn't even want to think about the prices of medication and healthcare here. He knows that Bruce is rich, but still... My God.
Another thing was the fact that kind of annoyed Bruce and Alfred was the amount of espressos that (Y/N) can drink in a day. Tim loved him a lot for it, but Bruce and Alfred weren't so happy. So many espressos wasn't really helpful. But hey.
But one iconic thing that can make you tell who is an actual Italian or not, is the famous hand gesture. They still remember the time when (Y/N) was talking on the phone with a family member who lives in Italy and it seemed that the entire family was on the other side of the phone.
He was talking fast, phone on his ear while he was going to the kitchen to drink some water and get some snacks. They all watched in silence as (Y/N) talked loudly, even as he was opening the fridge for some snacks.
And that's when they saw it. The famous hand gesture, in between some passionate talk about something and yelling over the phone. He seemed annoyed, but there was a smile on the teen's face as he was talking.
Once he was finished, he joined his family at the table. Jason has decided to learn Italian. Bruce has silently agreed. Damian was already prepared to learn. Basically, the entire family has decided to learn Italian and help (Y/N) with English in return.
Another thing that made adapting to the American culture more difficult was the fact that talking and kind of interrupt one you are talking too. In Italy, that is not really considered rude since they are passionate about talking and just overall talking over.
In America, that is considered rude. He didn't like it that much, but understood. People won't like him that much and he would be considered a rude person if he interrupts other people. His family understood that it's not easy, but hey. You adapt to the culture and move on.
But still, it hurt a little bit.
And (Y/N) never understood one thing as well. Something called Italian Americans. He couldn't comprehend calling yourself Italian American, but you don't speak Italian and you are not connected to the culture of your other part. It was weird to him. No hate towards them, but to him it was weird. How can you call yourself a person who belongs to a certain culture if you don't know it?
But hey, no hate. As long as they don't insult Italy and the Italian culture, no hate.
And one more thing that no one prepares you for is the fact that you miss your home country. Despite Alfred doing the best Italian dishes known to men, but it just didn't taste the same. It didn't have that taste of Italy. Yes, it sounds weird, but it's true. Italy is one hell of a country with a rich history.
Oh the nostalgia is a worst feeling ever. Sure, it makes you feel happy and remember the great times you had., but sad at the same time. Bruce saw it, he wasn't blind.
He was sad for his son. So what does Bruce do? Summer holidays are approaching and Bruce had one great idea for everyone. 2 weeks in Italy, all paid for. He just needed to tell (Y/N) when and where they will be going.
And Bruce told him a few moments later, (Y/N) screamed from happiness and jumped into Bruce's arms, hugging him like a koala bear.
" Grazie Bruce! " (Y/N) screamed. Bruce didn't mind the use of his first name because (Y/N) was still getting used to the fact that he has a dad.
" Ti amo Bruce. " (Y/N) said as he stood back down at the floor. Bruce smile widely as he knew exactly what first two words meant.
" Love you too son. "
(Y/N) let out a woo as he went back to his room. Oh he will stuff himself with all of the Italian food he can eat and find. And he will go to Rome and the Vatican. No one is going to stop him. And not to mention, he will have to visit his family. They would never forgive him by any means and you don't want to piss off an Italian family.
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storydays · 4 months
Text
Brozone Older Brothers' NSFW Headcannons
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🧡John Dory:
Whew, boy, are you in for a treat!
So it'd been 20 years-ish, since he'd been in Pop Troll culture, so he is out of practice when it comes to intimacy.
100% an ass and thighs man: You bend over in front of him, no matter what you're doing, instant hard on.
He's more of a grower than a shower: 5.1 inch normal and 5.3 when hard (Correct my if this is wrong bc I know nothing about penis education lmao)
Play with his ears, or even his tail, and he is instant putty in your hands.
Turn-ons include: edging (giving or receiving), eating you out/blowing you, (loves receiving more than giving but will still pleasure you as well as you did him) tying you up (and he knows some different knots from his adventuring days) and many more that I can't think of lol.
Def gives me top vibes but once in a while you'll catch him off guard and top the hell out of him
When you do top him, he is such a whiny little bitch, and you hold him there for hours until the sunshine peeks through your curtains.
Leave hickeys on his neck and he'll happily wear them and preen when you press a soft kiss to them when you're jealous.
When it's jealousy sex, angry sex, or sex in general, the bed will be creaking, Rhonda will be shaking, and anyone who happen to walk by the armadillo-bus will know exactly what's going on and run away in horror at the noises they heard.
He is a caveman when you first meet but starts to clean himself up a bit.
Is a total mess when it comes to cum. He cums buckets in you (if given consent), on your face, stomach, anywhere really.
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Bruce:
Ooh, this is gonna be fun
So Bruce has had his fair share of lovers, and knows his way around different genitalia and how to expose his partner's feel good spots.
Ugh, please please pull his tail
Just like the rest of him, he's pretty girthy down there, but is still long enough to hit those special spots.
His hair is beautifully tamed, which means he is tamed down there too, and even learned to make different shapes and designs out of pubic hair.
Def a a shower and grower: 3.5 when flaccid, but a whopping 5.5 when hard
He knows how to use his mouth, hands, and tail to make his partner scream
Def a power bottom; watches you through half lidded eyes as you take what you want from him, occasionally praising or degrading you, depending on his mood.
He's a attentive lover, and will cherish everything about your lovemaking, and make sure you're okay.
Turn ons include: hair (only time) and tail pulling, you making eye contact with him while making lewd gestures, being a brat and teasing him, morning 69, and loves when you surprise attack him; so many emotions flood through him, and he allows you to take some control, before he takes over and pushes you over the edge, with a smug smirk.
Sex is like a game to him: the end goals are making you feel like a million bucks and making you drunk on his love. Will tease you by cumming first, before he allows you to cum.
He is one smug son of a bitch when you can barely walk, or when someone makes a comment about the hickeys on your body (he leaves them everywhere), or about the scratches and bite marks on his back.
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📚 Clay:
Okay, so he wants to be the best you've ever had, so this bookworm absolutely studied up on how best to pleasure you. STUDIED FOR DAYS, and even studied while they were attempting to pleasure you.
Annoyed, you snatched the book from him, and turned the tables on them.
He's pretty average, right in the middle both length and thickness so pretty enjoyable for both parties.
Prefers giving than receiving, adores when you use your hair to hold him in place
THEY ABSOLUTELY ADORES THICCCCC THIGHS; (Yall see how thick Viva's thighs are? #CLIVIA )
Would spend hours in between your legs if you let him
Quite noises escape him....unless you bring out the dark green strap on and/or cock ring...then it's the Theatre Du Chatelet in y'all bedroom!
(Their brothers' overheard y'all one time, and the next day they all avoided your smirk and Clay's bright purple blush when you make a smart comment.)
Everyone sees him as serious/fun, but when you two are intimate, it's just Daddy and Baby Girl, it's up to you to figure out which is which, (😉)
Always uses protection just to prevent any accidents.
With you, he can let go of labels and just be Clay and they love you for that.
Turn ons: that strap on/cock ring, dem thighs, being pulled closer when they go down on you, you taking control, just you in general, teasing him in public, making suggestive comments in his ear while his brothers' and friends are around and he can't do nothing but try to make the blush go away and ac natural, glaring darkly at you when no one was looking.
He is clean and trimmed down there.
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kimberly-spirits13 · 7 months
Text
How Bruce Wayne Is On Your Period
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This is really just meant to make me feel better tbh- lol kill me
He won't tell you, but he knows that it's starting 
like come on- the mood swings are terrible, you get more violent on patrol (you put Joker in the hospital for a few days), you're quicker to be snide towards shady business partners, you cried when you dropped a cracker and then went right back to normal, like seriously 
When you start to get bad PMS symptoms, you don't do patrol for the week
It's hard to control feelings, thoughts, and painful cramps while fighting crime
You're basically on probation from patrol
You and Alfred make a lot of food (or Alfred makes it happily and you devour it)
Bruce tries not to stay away during patrol for too long since you start to worry about him and he really, really worries about you when you're not feeling well
He makes sure to bring home lots and lots and lots of chocolate and meds if that's what you need
Goes to your favorite bakery and gets a massive amount of whatever you want 
Makes sure that you get plenty of water
like all the water because it helps so much 
Is totally fine with you raiding his closet for any sweatpants and massive t shirts
doesn't care if there's blood anywhere or if you ruin a set of sheets
he's a billionaire, it's not a loss 
he makes sure you aren't uncomfortable or if you need space, that you have it but you know that he's there when you need 
Sometimes being around guys when you're on your period is gross and idk why it's just like ugh get away from me you trash bag 
speaking of trash bags, if anything grosses you out or starts to make you feel icky (even if it usually doesn't), he totally removes it from your presence 
for me, it's cheese and weird or strong smelling things 
or anything that looks slimy or too rough *bleh*
If you're ever feeling bloated or just really really gross, Bruce is the hype man
"no gorgeous, you're stunning, exquisite, perfect, amazing, I'm in the presence of an angel babe." he'll spin you around and press kisses all over you 
"No, don't say that about yourself, you're so pretty, you're not gross."
I mean he's like this all the time, but he'd definitely play way way into it if you're feeling down
If you're married and wearing a wedding ring, he gets the ring custom made to be adjustable incase you fingers swell 
I can see you expressing something nasty about yourself like that you hate a scar or you feel like you're stupid or something and he'll start crying when you start crying 
like don't say that dude it's not nice to yourself 
You feel like a sweaty hog because your body is pushing out blood and tissue 
you're going into mini labour, leave yourself alone
When you can't sleep, he pulls you very tightly into him and plays with your hair 
braids it into a hundred tiny braids or brushes it 
anything that relaxes you
you probably have a treasure trove of comfort movies and tv shows and if you can't sleep or just want to watch something, he'll happily stay up with blankets wrapped around the two of you and watch whatever
rubs your back and makes sure that you're taking pain medicine every few hours to stay in your system 
sometimes when he's working in the cave and you're lonely but not feeling good, you'll wrap yourself in a large blanket and sit on his lap, head against his chest while he works
He thinks you're like a cat and finds it adorable 
You basically turn into a cat for a week and maybe some change and he finds it very very funny
makes sure that there are no galas or any meetings that you have to deal with
plans events and meetings around your periods to make sure that when you're on it, you don't have to deal with high society because they make anyone's blood boil (no pun intended)
When you get mad or start crying, he doesn't take it personally at all and just lets you get it out
sometimes laying in the fetal position for a few hours and falling asleep is the best thing that can happen for periods and he will happily cuddle you the entire time, even if it's not the optimal position for cuddling 
he tries to stay as neutral as possible on subjects when you're on your period so that you don't kill someone because he seemed equally as unhappy 
trust me, period mood swings are incapacitating, it's not a snarky thing, it's just so so sosososoososososoooooooo bad
please don't talk to me when I'm in my mood swing phase, I'll accidentally insult you and then cry about it later or decide never to talk to you again 
Local villains will not pull insane shenanigans while you're on you're period because they're terrified 
Terrified. 
if batman has to call in the calvary, its the calvary call out of hell
You're busting skulls and taking names the entire time 
Bruce is scared, the villain is scared, everyone is terrified of this blood thirsty being that wants everyone to be in as much pain as they are
Bruce knows that the world is insufferable and being super hormonal and feeling disgusting and being in pain doesn't help ignoring that fact, or even just living with it
He just wants you to feel better 
Bruce gets sad when you don't feel well 😂
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fluentmoviequoter · 3 months
Note
hiiiii ♡ would be able to write something where reader is Jason Todd's girlfriend, friends to lovers situation so they've known each other a long time but she doesn't know about any of the vigilante stuff, And one day she's late making her way back to thier apartment but Jason is also making his way home but he's still in all the Redhood gear and reader bumps into him and is absolutely terrified out of her mind like just in complete terror of him. And she runs home and locks the doors and the windows and is a little shaken up. Jason finally arrives home obviously not as redhood lol And anyway he has to comfort her and just how would he react knowing that he scared the shit out of her and that she's this much afraid of redhood
Hi!! Of course! This is my first Jason Todd request and I would like to thank you from the bottom of my heart!! I love him so much and this is an incredible idea. I added my own spin to the ending, but I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!🤍
Warnings: angst, fluff, Dick Grayson is nosy
Word Count: 2.3k+ words
A/N: This isn't a specific adaptation/characterization of Jason Todd, but I do mention that he's built like a brick wall, so it's probably not Titans!Jason. The gif fit, though, so. If anyone has more Jason Todd requests, please send them!
Masterlist | DC/Jason Todd Masterlist | Request Info
The Man Under the Hood
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“Are you going to tell her?” Dick asks, raising his gloved hand for Jason to hit.
“I don’t know,” Jason grunts between punches.
“She stayed through everything else.”
“We were friends then, it was different.”
Dick drops his hands, and Jason sighs, lowering his guard. Jason raises his eyebrows, preparing for one of Dick’s infamous lectures.
“I’m not going to tell you what to do,” Dick begins before laughing at Jason’s surprised look. “I’m really not, but you’ve known her for a very long time. Just, don’t wait too long, because then it just looks like you don’t trust her.”
“It was different for you. Nightwing wasn’t feared. Telling her that I’m Red Hood tells her that I’ve done things that- that most people never consider.”
“She loves you. As you make the decision, just remember that.”
✯✯✯✯✯
Growing up in Gotham and playing in the streets (even when you shouldn’t have) introduced you to Jason Todd very early. He quickly became your friend, and when you lost him, you were finally ready to admit you loved him. But it was too late. The feelings that you were trying to navigate multiplied tenfold, and every time you pass his grave, they come back to the surface.
The cemetery is on your way home, and sometimes you can’t help but walk in. You can navigate to his headstone with your eyes closed, and everything else drifts away as you stare at his name.
“There’s a joke about the morbidity of this somewhere, I just know it."
Two large hands land on your waist, turning you around and pulling you into a kiss that takes your breath away. Breaking the kiss, you wonder what life would be like if Jason had never disappeared.
“Sorry,” you murmur. Kissing Jason is new and still catches you off guard, like you’re dreaming.
“Don’t apologize,” Jason whispers, brushing his fingers across your cheekbone. “Of all the places to hang out,” he adds with a bright smile.
“Why didn’t Bruce get it taken down?”
Jason shrugs. “The reminder? The idea that something else could happen. I really don’t know,” Jason half lies. He isn’t ready to tell you that he really did die and is happy to let you think it was just a ransom kidnapping gone wrong.
“What?” you ask, pressing your palms against his chest. “You disappeared into that pretty head again.”
“I’m just glad we’re finally more than friends,” Jason says, pressing his lips to yours.
“Me too,” you reply against his lips.
You’ve been friends much longer than lovers, so spending time together is not new, but being able to touch, kiss, and tell him what you feel is. While you think about how much you like the newness, Jason struggles to decide when or if to expose who he is.
He trusts you; he does, but he doesn’t want to scare you away or put a target on your back. Nightmares about you finding out and leaving while he’s gone plagued him for months after returning to Gotham and seeing you again. 
“Do you have to go back to the manor yet?”
Jason shakes his head, looping an arm around your shoulders. “You’re stuck with me for a few more hours.”
“Oh no.”
Jason pulls you against his side, smiling as he kisses the top of your head.
Not yet, he decides. Not never, just not yet.
✯✯✯✯✯
Jason feels Dick’s eyes on the side of his mask, a distorted sigh leaking out.
“What do you want?” he asks.
“You didn’t tell her,” Dick – Nightwing – accuses.
“We’re kinda in the middle of something here, Wing.”
“They can wait. Right, criminals?” Dick asks over his shoulder.
“Sure,” one of them answers, a batarang through his jacket keeping him stuck to an alley wall. “Take your time.”
Dick raises his hands to ask, “Why?”
“I thought you weren’t going to tell me what to do,” Jason sighs.
“Changed my mind. Look, I obviously understand the purpose of secret identities, but you love her, and she deserves to know.”
“You haven’t told your girl?” the thief asks. “Why not?”
“Shut up,” Jason growls through the hood.
“What are you really scared of?” Dick whispers before turning away.
Jason and Dick leave the criminal in the alley when police sirens approach, finding a rooftop to wait on. Gotham is never quiet for long, and breaks on patrol are few and far between.
“I’m going to tell her,” Dick announces. “Not about you. About me. Maybe that will convince you.”
“Don’t.”
“Jaybird.”
“Don’t ‘Jaybird’ me, Dick,” Jason argues, standing and pacing. “You don’t understand what I’m dealing with here. You tell Babs you’re Nightwing and she says, ‘Oh, wow, thanks for keeping us safe.’ I tell the woman that I love that I’m Red Hood and her first thought is the duffel bag fiasco, or the suicide spike at Arkham, nothing about me being a savior.”
“Everyone in Gotham knows that you’re not like that anymore. Besides, knowing that you did something bad isn’t a make-or-break situation.”
“Begging for forgiveness won’t do much if she leaves while I’m on patrol.”
Dick tilts his head toward Jason. “You’ve thought about this.”
Jason flexes his arms as he links his hands behind his neck. “Every time I consider doing it, I have a nightmare about her leaving.”
“You’re letting a nightmare control you, Jay.”
“Just- give me a little time, Dick. I can protect her from everything without telling her. Me included.”
“What if she doesn’t want to be protected from you? What if she wants you as you are?”
✯✯✯✯✯
Jason can’t remember the last time he was this tired after patrol. Damian had too much sugar or something and drug Jason all over Gotham. He needs to see you, and as Red Hood makes his way through the streets of Gotham, Jason keeps his mind on you, prepared to ditch the helmet and hold you until he can’t anymore.
Meanwhile, you’re walking home from work. Jason likes to be on the phone with you while you walk alone, but it’s late, and he’s probably at a family dinner. Looking down at your phone, you have a short message from him, but before you read it, you walk into what feels like a brick wall.
Gloved hands grip your biceps to keep you upright, and when you look up, you see the infamous Red Hood looming over you. Your mind wavers between fight and flight as you try not to scream, leaning away with wide eyes. You swallow harshly, and the eye slits of the mask fix themselves on your face.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
You flinch back at the sound of his voice, and his hands immediately fall away from you. Falling back, you catch yourself on your hands and scoot backward, terrified of what he’ll do to you. Red Hood has been working with the bats and birds, but the memory of what he was like before still looms over Gotham like the rain clouds that never dissipate.
He steps back, moving his hand toward his belt, and you gasp, freezing where you are.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, standing slowly. “Please don’t hurt me.”
It’s Red Hood’s turn to freeze, and unknown to you, Jason is falling apart under the mask. The pure terror in your eyes is the exact thing he’s been trying to keep you from.
“It’s okay, it’s my fault,” he rushes to say, leaving his hands where you can see them. “I’m not going to touch you.”
You nod slowly, moving backward as you clearly don’t believe him. Once you reach the corner, you turn and run. If he wanted to follow you, he could do so with no problem, but you don’t spare a glance over your shoulder as you run as fast as you can toward your home.
Jason’s shoulders drop as he watches you run, beating himself up for everything: for not telling you, for scaring you, and for putting you in this position. He can’t tell you now; he missed his chance, and there’s no way you’ll want him. His nightmare is coming to life around him, and he can’t wake up.
Your phone is lying on the ground, and Jason stoops to pick it up, slipping it into his pocket. Maybe you’ll still want to see Jason tonight. If someone like him can be so lucky.
✯✯✯✯✯
Your keys slip from your fingers several times as you struggle to unlock your door. Panting and blinking quickly to keep your tears from falling, you finally open the door, and once you're inside, slam it behind you and lock all three deadbolts.
Leaning against the door, you slide down it and hug yourself, wishing you had picked up your phone. You want to call Jason; you need him, but hopefully, he’ll come over when he can.
Something flies past your window, and you leap to your feet, walking through every room to ensure all the windows are locked. 
✯✯✯✯✯
Jason takes his time following you. He can move quickly, especially for a guy his size, but after seeing how you looked at Red Hood, at him, he’s more than happy to go a little slower. Taking the long way, he drops his stuff off at his place, keeping your phone in his pocket.
As he walks, he wonders what to say or do to convince you to stay. Sure, you were terrified of Red Hood, not Jason Todd, but the two are not mutually exclusive and never will be. Part of him wants to take Dick’s advice and tell you, but the idea of it not working (or ending like he thinks he will) makes the decision impossible.
He takes a deep breath before knocking on your door, and when there’s no answer or footsteps inside, he hits the door again, saying your name.
“It’s me,” he adds.
Your footsteps sound before three deadbolts click. Opening the door, you move into the hallway to hug Jason tightly. He returns the hug, pulling you up against him as he carries you inside and closes the door behind him. Flipping all the deadbolts, he knows he can keep you safer than they ever could, but that requires trust. Trust from you and from him.
As you cling to him, his heart is torn between leaving you before he scares you again or comforting you all night. When you adjust your grip on him, pressing your cheek against his pec just above your heart, Jason decides to stay. 
If she’s this afraid of Red Hood, what will she do when she finds out who he is? Jason wonders.
Pushing the thoughts away, Jason holds you close, rubbing his hand up and down your back while the other rests against your hip. The weight of his arms against you is comforting, and you focus on his heartbeat and the sound of his voice.
“You’re alright,” he whispers, his voice rough. “Take a few deep breaths.”
You do as he says, attempting to match your breaths to his. It takes several minutes, but your heart rate slows as your breath evens out.
“Thank you,” you say, moving your chin against his chest to look up at him.
He smiles, though his lips stay together, and it’s not as big as usual, running a hand over your hair.
“Can I- can I talk to you about what happened?” you ask, leaning into his touch.
He nods, and something akin to dread flashes through his eyes. You write it off as nervousness that you were hurt or threatened, which wouldn’t be unbelievable in Gotham.
“I was walking home, I got off late but didn’t want to call you and bother you.”
Jason wonders how different things would be if you had called, but rather than interrupting, he nods to acknowledge he’s listening.
“Then I turned into an alley, and I bumped into Red Hood. And, I mean, I know he’s not the same as when he first arrived in Gotham.”
Hope blooms in Jason’s chest at your words.
“He works with Batman, and Nightwing, and the rest of them, and they’re good. I’ve heard from my coworkers who live in the Hill that he’s making a difference, for good, but,” you trail off, looking away from Jason as you shatter his hope that you see a different side of Red Hood. 
“But what?” he asks quietly.
You shrug, and Jason takes the opportunity to move. He pulls you with him as he sits up, tugging you into his lap as you look up at him. His arms wrap around your waist as his fingers brush up and down against your side.
“I think the reason he scared me so much is that there’s no way to tell what he’s thinking. The rest of them, you can see part of their face, but he hides everything. And he’s just so big, I looked up and felt so small that I knew if he wanted to hurt me, he could.”
He would never hurt you, Jason thinks.
“I guess I didn’t like being in that position where I knew he could do anything but had no way of knowing if he would.”
Jason leans back toward the back of the couch. The fear that you’re expressing is based on reasons that apply to him, the man under the mask.
“You got scared because he’s so big? And unreadable?” Jason clarifies, applying the adjectives to himself.
Your eyes are fixed on him, dropping to his shoulders and waist quickly, looking at his build (and noticing the shape of a phone in his pocket, aware that he set his to the side to hold you) before you hum. “Kinda like you,” you muse quietly.
Jason’s brows furrow, and you move your arms, causing Jason to drop one arm to his side.
You watch his movement, then look into his eyes. You lean toward him and smile, cocking your head as you ask, “But you can protect me. Right, red?”
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sanguineterrain · 6 months
Note
hiii! can i request reader being a vigilante and also jason’s ex? they’re on the same mission/have to work together and reader gets injured or smn?
thank you so much! I love your writing!
thanks for requesting! this turned into a whole ass one shot 😭 hope you like ❤️
jason todd x gn!reader. tw: fighting, exes, physical violence, reader is captured but they're fine, jason is NOT over you (and he doesn't want to be), making up, fluffy ending. 2k words (lol)
****
The Cave is exactly how you remember. Foolishly, you thought maybe it would've rotted after you broke up with Jason.
That's certainly how you felt.
But no. It's the same, and the other Bats are the same. Dick and Tim are there, probably because you're the most familiar with them... after your ex, of course... and Barbara already pushed the envelope by contacting you.
Still, Gotham is your city too. And if the Bats need an extra set of hands to protect the city, then so be it.
"Hey, glad you could make it," Dick says warmly.
At times, you envy how easygoing he can be. Even though he can have a temper, Dick Grayson, for the most part, shakes hands like a politician. He doesn't burn bridges. He doesn't hold grudges, at least not publicly.
You, on the other hand, are perhaps too much like his younger brother: you absolutely hold grudges, and you don't let go easily.
"Hi, guys," you say, trying to be civil. "What's up?"
"So—"
The roar of a motorcycle pulling into the Cave cuts Tim off. Quick anger soars through you as Red Hood dismounts the bike. He takes off his helmet.
You haven't seen Jason in a year. Judging by his physique, the breakup did not take a toll on him. If anything, he seems bigger than you remember. Asshole.
You can pinpoint the moment that he finally sees you, and he stops in his tracks.
"Oh, boy," you hear Tim mumble.
Jason is silent. You cross your arms, keeping your face neutral.
"I didn't know you worked with the Bats, Hood. Thought you flew solo."
Jason is quiet for another moment. Then he speaks.
"Things change."
"Clearly."
"Anyway!" Dick says, clapping his hands. "Pretty straightforward mission. Drugs, warehouse, bad guys, et cetera. We have to clear out these shipments tomorrow night, or they'll hit the streets, and we'll be too late. Robin and I will take Gotham Heights. Signal, Black Bat, and Red Robin will take downtown. And, um, you two can clear out the Bowery."
"Hood can handle the Bowery himself," you say. "Gimme another section."
Jason scoffs. You glance at him.
"Something funny?" you ask, teeth grit.
"Once again, you're biting off more than you can chew," he says, hands on his waist. "It's stupid and you're gonna get yourself into trouble. Just clear out the Bowery with me. Plenty of room for both of us."
"I don't know if you know this, but I actually do pretty okay on my own. Just because you're one of Batman's special little prodigies doesn't mean the rest of us can't get by."
You glance at the others. "No offense."
"None taken," Tim says. "You're far better adjusted than us, no contest."
Jason rolls his eyes. "C'mon. You don't have anything to prove to us. We know you're capable, but these guys are rough. We team up for safety."
"Oh, now you care about being a part of a team?" you snap. "You didn't give a shit when it was me asking—no, begging you and Roy to help me with the League mission in Sydney."
Jason's jaw tenses. "That was different."
"Guys, I think we should—"
"Why? Because you only get your hands dirty locally?" you ask, shaking with anger.
"Because if I had gotten involved, it would've put a target on your back," Jason says icily. "You would've been killed. You were nowhere near ready to take on the League. I wouldn't have been able to protect you and fight them."
"You know, right there, you sounded just like Bruce. Did you take tips from him?"
Silence. Jason's boiling with anger, you can tell.
"Bruce wouldn't have had the sense to stop you from going," he finally says, tone even. "He's not too good at that."
"Bruce would've cared enough to back me up. And he wouldn't have driven a wedge between me and my team."
It's just words; there's no way to know whether Batman would've actually backed you up. Probably not, considering his history. But it hurts Jason, and you take the moment to whirl around to look at Dick and Tim, who are wildly uncomfortable. Dick looks sad.
"It's better to team up," Dick says gently.
You bristle. "Whatever. I'll see you tomorrow."
You stalk out of the Cave.
Stupid fucking exes. Stupid fucking vigilantes.
****
"Okay, just to make things clear..."
"In and out. Report at the Cave," you say, tightening your equipment. "I got it, Nightwing. Over and out."
You silence your comm before he can respond. You're tired of their voices.
Thankfully, Jason has taken the hint and is on the opposite end of the Bowery. Which means you can slip away in peace.
You did this as a favor for Barbara, but now you're seriously rethinking getting reinvolved with the Bats. It never ends well.
The warehouses on the East End of Old Gotham are no problem. You clear out five within an hour. You check the comm briefly. It's pretty much silent, so you turn it off and keep going.
The West End, however, is a little harder.
Because you're only one person, someone figures out your pattern. You're clobbered over the head before you can drop in through the roof.
This is the last time you do a favor for anybody in Gotham.
****
You wake up tied to a chair. Your head pounds, and your lip is bloody. Not good.
"—way the Bat will show. They're a nobody vigilante."
"Tony, you're a fuckin' idiot if you think Batman doesn't know exactly what the fuck goes on in this city. Swear to God, I shoulda left you with Mom in Boise. Nothing but cotton in your head."
"Oh, fuck off, Al, you'd still be droolin' on your couch crying over Marie if I hadn't come back to Jersey."
"You little—"
"Very sorry to interrupt this family spat," you say. "But I'm on a tight schedule here, so if you could just speed things up..."
"Smartass, huh?" Al asks, waving a gun. "I wouldn't be so bold tied to a chair, toots."
"Toots? Are you a hundred years old?"
Tony snickers. Al glares at him and stalks over to you. He doesn't hesitate before whacking you upside the head with his gun. Your ears ring, and you hunch forward.
"Watch your mouth," he growls, and you're in too much pain to come up with a response to that.
Presently, you realize that your earbud is out of your ear. Probably destroyed. You have no other way of sending a distress signal. By the time you miss the report at the Cave, it'll be too late.
You were a failure then, and you're a failure now. Even your ex-boyfriend took pity on you.
Jason. God, look at how you'd left things. How his face had fallen when you'd called him Bruce. He used to love Bruce, and you know exactly what happened that changed that. And you used it against him.
Now you're facing the consequences. This is your own damn fault.
"Load everything into the truck," Al says into a walkie. "Then move out. Tell the others the same."
There's a crackled reply. Then shouting. Then silence.
You look up in surprise. Al curses and points at you.
"Stay here and watch them," he orders Tony.
"But Al, what if Batman comes here?"
"That's what guns are for, you freakin' idiot!"
You snort. As if guns could stop any of them, much less Batman.
But whatever. These guys probably didn't go into selling drugs because of their big IQs.
Tony and five other men stay to guard you. You work on trying to slip out of the handcuffs and rope.
Bang!
The first gunshot hits one goon in the leg. A second gets hit in the shoulder. Hip. Foot. Opposite leg.
Red Hood steps out of the shadows, then. Tony immediately looks sick.
"H-Hood? This ain't your territory, what're you—"
"You've got something of mine, Lewis," Jason says, voice smooth and dangerous.
Tony decides that, fuck his brother, he's getting out of here alive, and runs. Jason doesn't pay him any mind, instead walking to you.
He cuts the ropes first, then picks the handcuffs. Jason roughly rubs your wrists and ankles, pushing blood back into your extremities.
"What're you doing?" you ask. "Go get him. He's meeting his brother downtown."
You can't see Jason's expression through the helmet, but if looks could kill...
"Hood—"
"What. The hell. Is wrong with you."
You scowl. "I didn't come here for a fucking lecture."
"Well, you're gonna get one. This wasn't the plan. And you turned off your comm? Are you trying to get yourself killed? You have a death wish or something?"
"It didn't make sense to put both of us in the Bowery—"
"You could've died tonight!" Jason yells.
"And wouldn't you have liked that!" you snap back. "Proves the fact that I'm a failure quite nicely."
Jason tears off his helmet. His eyes are wide with anger and... guilt. Helplessness.
He's afraid.
"Don't you fucking say that," he says lowly. "I'd rather die again than find your body."
"What the fuck do you care?" you snarl. "I'm not your responsibility, remember? What does it matter if I dropped off the face of the earth?"
"Because I still love you!"
All of your anger drains.
Your body buzzes like it wants to feel him again. Traitor.
"That would kill me," Jason finishes quietly. "And I wouldn't come back from that death."
Your mouth feels like you swallowed chalk. And bees.
"You love me?" you whisper.
"You're hard to get over," he says. "Still haven't managed it."
"But... you said our breakup was for the best."
Jason sighs. His anger fades. "It was. I was a jackass. I let my shit with Bruce and the Pit and everything get in the way of what was important. Which is you."
"You were good to me, Jay," you say. "And we were okay. Till... till Sydney."
Jason winces. "I should've handled it better. And I should've treated you better."
"You're a good man, Jason. I don't regret my relationship with you. I regret it ending."
He looks at you. His face is twisted in pain.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you," he says. "And you're not a failure. Not even close."
You scoff, your eyes wet. "Aren't I? Couldn't even handle a simple drug bust."
"No, you're not. Nothing about what we do is simple, even if we're gaslit into thinking so. In this life, you need someone to watch your back. Even B doesn't work alone."
You try to stand, suddenly feeling like a raw nerve. You stand up too fast, though, and blood rushes to your head. You might also be mildly concussed.
Jason immediately slips an arm around your waist as you teeter forward and puts you upright.
"Easy, sweetheart," he says, and doesn't let go until you're steady.
You raise a brow. Jason grimaces.
"Sorry. Force a' habit."
You scoff, suddenly shy. "Habit, huh? Still think of me as your sweetheart?"
"Never stopped."
You roll your eyes, but it's fond now. "Anybody ever tell you you don't know how to move on?"
"Mm. I've heard it once or twice."
Your lips tingle. You've missed kissing him.
"I'm sorry I compared you to Bruce," you say. "You're nothing like him."
Jason shrugs. "Some of me is exactly like him. The fact that I didn't put a bullet in anybody's brain even though they kidnapped you isn't me at all. But I forgive you. And I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't know the Sydney mission had festered so much."
"It's okay, Jay. You're right, I wasn't ready to take down the League or kill anybody. I'm grateful you stopped me."
Jason takes a careful step forward, eyes darting to your lips. You smirk.
"Hot for communication, are we?" you ask.
"Oh," he says, suddenly reticent. "Sorry. Too forward. Shit. I've... I've just missed you so much. I thought maybe you—that there was a vibe—but if there isn't, then—"
You take the last step and kiss him, and your lips buzz in satisfaction. Jason kisses back just as eagerly, hands flying to your waist and squeezing. But his hands roam, holding and cupping like he's been starved for the last year.
"I missed you too, Jaybird," you say between kisses.
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brucewaynehater101 · 7 days
Note
Just read a fic about Tim finally getting post patrol ice cream and his own renovated room after admitting to never getting any unlike his siblings and now I'm imagining an AU
Imagine this, Tim is tired, pulling an all nighter, because he did too poor a job at pretending as Robin, and it's too late to do damage control. Not in front of villains or heroes alike
But the people
They've caught onto how the third robin receives less than the first two
Robin acts less like a child, less like a son to Batman, and more like a 'Business Partner's as he said with his own words. Like a handler
Robin who has to put work into keeping Batman from overexerting himself, from cruelly punishing those who fall victim to him
Robin who receives less praise or care from Batman and cares for both himself and his "Boss" as he said with his own words
And it gets worse after the mantle passes down to Stephanie and Damian because the people notices how even as Batman treats them better than the third, now rebranded as Red Robin—
—Red Robin is still as much a Business Partner to batman as he always has been since the Dark Knight's loss of his second bird
And as much as tries to keep things buried, word is spreading that Red Robin is black sheep of the batfamily, and he won't be able to hide it for much longer
Have fun with this idea lol
I know the fic you're talking about! "with the exception of..." by DSS1101. That's a good one!
"Home Decor" by sElkieNight60 is about Duke remodeling his room as part of the new Wayne member tradition. This brings up feelings in Tim cause his bedroom still looks like a barely used guestroom.
The concept you've mentioned gives similar vibes to a hc/au post I read about how JJ (Joker Junior) isn't known by anyone but the goons/Rogues, Barbara, Jim, and Bruce. All the other Bats don't know. In consideration of Tim, electric shock weapons are immediately put away when Red Robin arrives on scene (I love that idea so much).
I think, with the Gothamites around when Bruce was going on his grief spiral almost killing spree, people feel a kinship with Tim. They couldn't have stopped Batman and, with part guilt and part relief, it seems only a child could. They watch this child, who seems to be sacrificing everything for a brutal and cruel man, and how he pulls Batman back into the symbol he's supposed to be. It brings out the protective and parental instinct of a lot of people.
This cues civilians, goons, and rogues alike trying to assist Robin in small ways. Tim as Robin had people offering him food (in sealed containers), giving him compliments, handing him scarves or hats (how could Batman let a child out in this weather without a hat?!?!?), and more. They tried to give him small moments to be the child he was pretending he wasn't. He obviously wasn't getting decent parenting at home if Batman was just his boss and his real folks were letting him out to fight.
There's a kind of guilty gratefulness towards the third Robin and a protectiveness of him. All young Bats are treated with care by civilains and some goons, but Robin three was special. He willingly became the barrier between Batman and Gotham. A lot of folks owe their ability to work (and not have exorbiant medical debt and medical conditions) to Tim. He saved them by damning himself. He needed the support Batman obviously wasn't providing.
Tim, as intelligent as he is, doesn't realize the affect he has on Gotham's older population. The younger ones will react with slightly more respect towards him than the other Bats, but they weren't around to see what Tim's sacrifice did for everyone.
Tim, with his self-doubt and hero-worship of his predecessors, thought his treatment throughout Robin was the work of those who came before him. Of course Gothamites trust and help out Robin when Dick and Jason built that foundation.
He's not exactly wrong, but it isn't to the extent they actually do for Tim.
Unfortunately for Tim, Damian and Jason do know that his Robin was treated with such reverence. They don't know why, but their Robins did/do not get treated that way. They chalk it up to Tim being the "perfect" and "can do no wrong" Robin. It's one point of contention they are unable to clear up due to Tim not knowing about it and the other two not wanting to explain their jealousy.
Steph was not treated as well as Damian and Jason when she was Robin. She, in this AU, was not treated as much of a crutch as Tim is. Despite that, her Spoiler/Batgirl/whatever persona gets some of the protectiveness that Tim's personas do. Bruce was more healed with Steph, but he was still an ass. That was obvious to any Gothamite watching.
Steph, because she was around at the time and talks with Gothamites to know what rumors are floating around, becomes aware after her death of why Tim's Robin is held up with such respect. This allows, unknowingly to Tim, for them to reach more understanding. With her knowledge of Tim's time as Robin, she's able to point out how he was being an ass, what he should've done instead, and that she herself was sorry for some of her actions.
When more and more individuals cue into Tim's black sheep position in the Batfam, this could go two ways.
One, Tim is targeted more due to his lack of support.
Two, Gothamites and Rogues increase their aid to Red Robin and become slightly cold to the Bats for their treatment of him.
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libraryofgage · 4 months
Text
Harlequin Prince
Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One Harley Quinn One (you're here!) 10th Doctor and Rose (on the way! might take a little, I have plans for this one) Scooby Gang (there are also plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz)
I'm a simple woman who believes Steve deserves to be a little unhinged sometimes, and having Harley Quinn as a mother is the perfect excuse to make that happen lol
Anyway, I know I haven't updated some of my other series in a hot minute; I've just been busy with work and a little sick ngl
If you'd like to be tagged for any new parts in this series, let me know!
And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)
-------
Steve's earliest memory is of being tucked into bed with a Batman night light plugged into the wall and his mother squeezed in next to him. She's wearing her softest pajamas, and Steve idly rubs the fabric under his thumb. In her lap is a huge book that she flips through, humming "Pop Goes the Weasel" under her breath before finally stopping on a page. "Okay, Dumplin', let's read about Narcissistic Personality Disorder," she finally says, wiggling some to get comfortable before clearing her throat.
Her voice is soft and a little nasally, and Steve obediently closes his eyes when she starts reading. After a few minutes, she gently cards her fingers through his hair, her palm warm as it slides over his scalp. Eventually, he drifts off, his dream so vivid that he still remembers the oversized hammers with their white doctor coats and floating clipboards.
The first time Steve's mother is sent (back) to Arkham, he doesn't realize anything is wrong until Uncle Bruce picks him up from school. Steve had been waiting long after the other kids were picked up by their parents, a misshapen pink-and-blue coaster for his mother that he made in art class in his hands, when one of Uncle Bruce's fancy cars pulled up to the school.
The passenger window rolled down, and Bruce looked almost pained as he met Steve's eyes. "Hop in," he said, leaning over to open the door from the inside.
Steve walked up to the door but didn't get in. "Mom said I should only go home with her," he said, "unless you know our secret code."
"Cognitive Behavioral Therapy."
Steve stood for a moment longer before nodding and climbing into the passenger seat. He closed the door, pulled on his seat belt, and carefully held the coaster in his lap. "Where's Mom?" he asked, watching as Bruce turned down the radio and slowly pulled away from the school.
"Your mother is....going to be away for a while," Bruce said, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "She did something bad, and now she's going to stay in time out because of it."
"Mom says you shouldn't dumb things down just because I'm young. She says it's not good for my development."
Bruce got a slight smile at that, his lips twitching up as he glanced at Steve. "Is that so," he said, his grip on the wheel loosening some. He seemed to think for a moment before saying, "Your mother blew up a warehouse. She was apprehended by Batman and has been sent to Arkham for a few months. Since I'm listed as your godfather, you'll stay with me until she's released."
Steve didn't reply. He just looked down at his coaster and wondered if he'd be able to convince his Uncle Bruce to visit Arkham so he could give it to her.
He did not, in fact, get to visit her at Arkham during that stint. But Steve did get to visit on her next one, which was almost three years later to the day. Steve's first visit to Arkham was on his 8th birthday, and he was chaperoned by Uncle Bruce and Nightwing (he wasn't allowed to call Dick by his real name when he was in costume, so Steve just didn't call him anything at all).
That was also the first time Steve truly experienced Arkham's lax security. Through no fault of his own (and he would continue to argue this point; how did two superheroes let an 8 year old wander off?), Steve had somehow ended up in another part of Arkham altogether.
This hallway had large cells with reinforced glass walls that allowed Steve to look inside. He could name most of the people he passed, recognizing Killer Croc and Riddler and the Penguin by his mother's descriptions of their defining features. Most of them tried talking to Steve, but he pushed ahead, eager to see if his mother was at the end of the hall.
She wasn't. Instead, Steve found another woman. She had green skin and bright red hair and Steve hadn't been able to contain himself. He'd practically squished his face against the glass and asked, "Are you Poison Ivy?"
"Oh, her he talks to," the Penguin said, his tone mean and his voice carrying.
Poison Ivy ignored him, choosing to instead open one eye from where she lay on the bed. She stared at Steve before sitting up. "Do I know you?" she asked.
"Nope! But my mom knows you. She talks about you all the time. She said you're the baddest badass to ever badass," Steve said.
"Oh. You're Harley's kid," Poison Ivy replied, walking over to the glass and crouching down to meet his gaze. "What are you doing all the way over here?"
"It's my birthday, so Uncle Bruce said I could see Mom."
"Well, happy birthday. Now, what are you doing here?"
Steve blinked, looked around the hall again, and realized for the first time that he was, in fact, a bit lost. "Uh, I'm not sure. I was with Uncle Bruce before."
A moment passed between the two of them in which Poison Ivy said nothing while Steve tried to remember how, exactly, he'd ended up here. When he came up blank, he simply shrugged and looked back at her. "Hey, you like plants, right?" he asked.
"Yeah, kid, I like plants," she said, her tone taking on the same inflection his mother's did when he asked something she thinks is obvious.
Steve didn't linger on the tone. Instead, he dug around in his coat pocket for a few seconds, pushing past candy wrappers and erasers until his hand closed around an acorn he'd picked up off the ground a few days ago. He pulled it out and presented it to Poison Ivy on his palm. "Is it still a plant if it fell off the tree?" he asked.
"Yeah," Poison Ivy said, her voice soft like she was staring at something unbelievable. Steve watched as a huge grin spread across her face, her eyes lit up, and she pressed her hands to the glass. "Can you do me a favor, Steve?" she asked.
"Sure! Mom said you're a person I should listen to," he said, starting to close his fingers around the acorn. Now that he was thinking about it, he didn't actually know how to give the acorn to her with the glass between them.
"Your mom is right. You should always listen to me. And her. But mostly me right now," Poison Ivy said, her gaze a bit softer as she looked at Steve. "So, go ahead and put the acorn on the ground and stand as far away as possible."
Steve didn't question her. Whatever Poison Ivy wanted to do would probably be fine. After all, Uncle Bruce didn't warn him about talking to her like he had about the Joker. So, Steve put the acorn down and hurried to the other end of the hall. "Now what?" he shouted.
The only response he got was the acorn shuddering, spinning across the floor, and then bursting open. In the blink of an eye, a tree grew, its roots breaking through the ground and its branches shattering the glass of Poison Ivy's cell. Steve was just thinking that was probably why Poison Ivy told him to stand back when she walked out, rolling her shoulders and breathing like the air is fresh.
She looked at Steve and walked over, standing in front of him for a moment before sweeping him into her arms. "Thanks, kid," she said, opening her hand and letting a tiny purple flower grow from her palm. She tucked it behind Steve's ear. "Now, let's go find your mom."
Of course, Poison Ivy's escape had set off numerous alarms, and Uncle Bruce just about fainted when he saw her carrying Steve while Nightwing looked two seconds from laughing. But Steve's mom had smiled so wide that her cheeks must have hurt after only two seconds when she saw them.
It was, by far, the best birthday Steve had ever had.
‐-----------------------------
Hawkins, Indiana, is...boring. Steve has only been in the town for a few weeks, and he's bored out of his mind. He could have been sent to Metropolis or Central City. Hell, he would have preferred Bludhaven to the absolute snoozefest that is Hawkins. But, no, Uncle Bruce insisted on somewhere safe, which means somewhere boring, which means...Steve will just have to make his own fun.
That's why he's found himself in a dive bar on the edge of town, sitting at the bar as the owner (a woman named Bev who definitely killed her husband; Steve would know, he's met plenty of women who definitely killed their husbands) refuses to give him anything alcoholic. "Listen, kid," she says, her tone hard and unyielding, "I can give you water, a Shirley Temple, or a permanent ban. Which do you prefer."
After a few seconds, Steve sighs, slaps way more money than is necessary on the bar, and says, "Gimme a Shirley Temple."
Bev nods, swipes up the cash, and starts making his drink. He watches her with a slight frown before looking away, noticing another boy his age wiping down a table. He looks, and Steve cannot say this affectionately enough, like a wannabe goon for a motorcycle gang. Between the bandana stuffed into his back pocket, his slightly frizzy hair falling to his shoulders, and the leather jacket/vest combo, the guy is the first reminder of home Steve has seen since arriving in this sleepy town.
When he notices the guy's shoulders tense, Steve looks away to keep from being caught staring. A Shirley Temple is placed in front of him, and Steve represses a sigh, missing the sounds of fights happening behind him as he drinks with Jason.
"Aren't you a little young to be hanging around here?"
Steve slowly takes a sip of his drink, the saccharine cherry flavor washing over his tastebuds, and glances at an older man a few seats down from him. He looks the man over, lingering on the half-tucked shirt, muddy loafers, and circles under his eyes. Without permission, his mother's DSM-V rushes through his mind, a blur of his mother's voice accompanying the page flips. They finally settle on "Adjustment Disorder," accompanied by his mom saying, "Sometimes, that's just a fancy term for a mid-life crisis, Dumplin'."
Without thinking, Steve asks in return, "Aren't you a little old to still be going through a mid-life crisis?"
In Gotham, that might get him a laugh, an eye roll, and possibly an elbow to the ribs from whichever friend accompanied him. Here, it gets him a tense silence that he only thought happened in bad movies gearing up for a fight sequence. Seriously, what is wrong with Hawkins?
"I'll give you one chance to apologize," the guy says, clearly thinking he's being sufficiently threatening.
It takes every ounce of Steve's self-control to keep from laughing at the guy. Does that usually work? Do people usually find this guy threatening? He's got nothing on Alfred, so Steve just can't bring himself to even fake intimidation.
"Yeah, don't hold your breath, man," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he takes another sip. The Shirley Temple isn't bad, but it's not what he was expecting, and it feels like just another disappointment atop a pile of them.
They're building in his chest, now that he thinks about it. Steve is slowly suffocating under the weight of them. They buzz in his lungs, surging through him until the energy is so overwhelming that he has to bounce his leg and tap his finger against his glass to expel some of it. He shouldn't have agreed to leave Gotham, or at the very least, he shouldn't have left the location entirely up to Bruce. Holy shit, that was a dumb decision. He ought to know better.
A sudden, annoyingly harsh drag of chair legs against the floor rings in Steve's ears, making his shoulders tense and his fingers twitch. He looks over to see the guy standing over him, glaring down at Steve like that's supposed to scare him when nothing else has.
Steve sighs, drinking the last of his Shirley Temple before standing. Over the guy's shoulder, he can see the boy his age watching them, and...well, Steve kind of wants to make a good impression on the first person to remind him of home. Plus, a fight sounds great. He'd love a chance to expel some of this disappointment-fueled energy.
The guy suddenly snorts, pulling Steve's attention back. "You're young, kid, so I'll let you off the hook this time around, but learn some respect."
What? Seriously? All of that, and the guy doesn't even start a fight? Does he know how rude that is? He'd get killed in Gotham. "Oh," Steve says, his voice flat, "you're scared of getting your ass kicked."
Somehow, that's what the guy considers the final straw. It wasn't even that good. Like, that's just fucking small talk in Gotham, and Steve can't bring himself to understand what about it was so infuriating that the guy swings his fist.
Either way, Steve happily embraces the fight. His eyes light up, and adrenaline rushes through his veins as he ducks and kicks the guy's left knee. The familiar sound of a bone snapping rings out. Steve's ready for more, hands curled into fists and held up to protect his face, when the guy drops.
After one kick, he drops. Steve blinks, staring down at the guy cursing and holding his knee. He slowly lowers his hands when he realizes this isn't some kind of fake-out diversion and looks at Bev behind the counter. She's frowning at him, hands on her hips, and Steve comes to the conclusion that bar fights are not, in fact, a thing in Hawkins. "Do they usually go down so easy around here?" he asks.
"They usually don't fight at all."
Oh. Holy shit, this place is boring.
Steve sighs and pushes some hair out of his face, frowning slightly. "Well, uh, sorry about the disturbance, then. I'll just...get going," he says, awkwardly pushing his chair in and doing the same for the guy whose kneecap he kicked. Nobody says anything as he leaves, and Steve shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, frustration and disappointment and homesickness building in him.
He's halfway to his car when somebody shouts, "Hey! Wait!"
With a huff, Steve stops and turns, his mood only lightening when he sees the boy that was wiping down tables. He waits patiently, watching as the boy runs up to him and holds out a wad of cash. "Bev said to give this to you," he says.
"What, is my money not good enough?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow at the cash before looking up and meeting brown eyes.
"No, no," the boy says, "Bev only gives change to people she likes. She said you're welcome to come by and kick Phillip's ass whenever you want."
Steve blinks, studying the boy for any signs of lies. When he doesn't find one, he takes the cash and nods. "Good to know," he says.
"Yeah. Right. Um, I'm going back inside now."
"Hold on," Steve says, grinning when the boy listens and stands still. He takes a step closer, holds out his hand, and says, "My name's Steve. I'm new around here, if you couldn't tell."
The boy stares at his hand for a few seconds before taking it, the rings on his fingers pressing against Steve's skin. "Eddie. I could tell," he says, his shoulders relaxing some. "Where you from?"
"Gotham."
"Holy shit, no wonder you looked so ready for a fight," Eddie says, staring at Steve like he's incomprehensible. Steve tries not to preen under his gaze. "Hawkins must be dead compared to Gotham."
"Yeah," Steve agrees, glancing down at his and Eddie's hands still clasped together despite the handshake being over. "But I think I'll have some fun anyway."
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slut4thebroken · 7 months
Text
baby bat
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Scarecrow x Batgirl!reader
Summary | Scarecrow films a ransom video to send to Batman.
Warnings | Sexual content, 18+, smut, dubcon, vibrator, forced orgasm, overstimulation, kidnapping, nonconseual recording?, praise.
Words | 800+
Notes | I might make a part two but don’t hold your breath lol. Also for legal reasons, I own the rights to the nickname baby bat cause I came up with it and haven’t seen it used before 😼💅🏻
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
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“Where'd Batman find you, hm?” He placed a hand on your thigh, just above your knee, and started slowly dragging it up. 
“Don’t fucking touch me.” You growled, thrashing in the restraints. He let out a low chuckle and removed his hand. 
“So feisty. Is this your first time as a hostage?” You gritted your teeth and remained silent. “Oh, it is. Well, I’m honored to be your first.” You could tell he was smirking behind the mask. 
“I’ll admit, this isn’t how I would normally go about it, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.” He said, walking over to the desk to grab something. “Let’s get this out of the way first, then we’ll move onto the fun stuff.” As he walked back over, you could see now that what he grabbed was a vibrator and a video camera. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” He shushed you and ignored your thrashing as he attached the vibrator to your clothed heat. 
“It might not be as effective over your suit, but I imagine it’ll give a similar result.” He said and you couldn’t tell if he was talking to you or himself. “Let’s get you warmed up.” He switched it on and your back arched off of the reclined examination chair as your whole body tensed up with the sudden stimulation. You pulled on the restraints hard enough to make your wrists and ankles burn even through the suit. 
“Feel good?” He asked and you watched the way his head tilted down then back up, eyeing your body. You bit your lip to contain your sounds, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. 
“W-why aren’t you— fuck… using your toxin?” You choked out, trying not to moan through the words. 
“I told you, I’m saving the fun part for later.” He lightly trailed his fingers up your naval and between your breasts, only stopping once he reached the zipper of your suit. Since his hand was just below your face, you jerked your head forward, trying to bite him, but he moved away before you could and snickered in response, the sound through the voice modulator in his mask making you shiver. He opened up the camera and fiddled with it for a few seconds before a small light started flashing. 
“Say hi.” He cooed, making you turn your head away from him as you tried to keep the shaking of your body to a minimum. That was proving to be very difficult though because of your rapidly approaching orgasm. “So moody.” He chuckled. “I guess we’ll get right to it then. I need you to do something for me, Batman. If I’m satisfied.. I’ll let her go. If not… well I could use a pet.” You let out a strangled whimper and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will the orgasm away. 
“I’ll send you the details soon. In the meantime… I’ll take good care of her, don’t worry. We’re gonna have so much fun, isn’t that right, baby bat?” He started rubbing your thigh again as he waited for a response. 
You tried to think about dead puppies, the scent of dead bodies, Bruce’s cooking— anything. But nothing could bring you down from the edge. The knot of arousal in your stomach finally snapped and you let out a loud moan as your back arched off the chair and your whole body tensed. 
“Oh, look at that.” He cooed mockingly. “Good girl.” You did your best to ignore the way his words ignited a new fire in your belly. When your orgasm faded and you sagged into the exam chair, you quickly tensed up again when the last little bit of pleasure quickly turned into overstimulation. You bit your lip to stifle your pained whimpers, but it barely made a difference. 
“Look at her twitch.” He said proudly. “Does it feel a little too good now?”
“F-fuck you.” You spat, but your voice was too breathless to have any kind of edge to it. 
“Don’t worry, we’ll get to that soon enough. Now, Batman, one last parting word; trust that by the time the next video finds you, she’ll still be in this predicament, so I’d work quickly if I were you.” He moved in closer to your face and grabbed your cheeks when you started turning away. “Say goodbye, baby bat.” When you remained silent, he chuckled and turned the camera off. 
“Good job. You make such a pretty captive.” It was hard to focus on his words— on anything really— with intense, painful pleasure on your clit. 
“Y-you’re going to let me go?” You whimpered and he froze. His head tilted slightly, making you more nervous. 
“You poor thing. I’m sorry if I gave you false hope, I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to believe me.” You let out a choked sob from his words and he cooed with faux sympathy. “I know. But soon enough you’ll grow to like it here. Just give it time, pet.” 
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spacedace · 1 year
Note
Damian doesn't know who Santa Claus is and Danny tries to gaslight him into believing in Santa
Okay but, like, wouldn't even be gaslighting! Santa canonically does exist in the DC universe, I think I remember reading something about him fighting through an army in hell to give Darkseid a single piece of coal once?
So like, Danny doesn't have to gaslight Damian into believing Santa's real, he just has to pull out the proof (Danny has a binder of everything he knows about the Spirit of Christmas for the purpose of when he eventually goes to war with him, Danny hates Christmas so fucking much haha) and show him evidence that Santa is real.
Probably ranting the entire time about how much he hates the guy & Christmas and it's obvious that this is Danny's arch nemesis. His one true villain above all others. Pariah Dark? A nuisance. Dark Dan? Just a tuesday. Santa? That motherfucker is the bane of Danny's existence and he will pay for what he's done (spread Christmas cheer).
And Danny's the newest member to the family. Damian's been encouraged to get to know his new brother and try and bond with him a bit, make him feel like part of the family. So, obviously, the best way to do that is to help Danny in his quest for vengeance.
And of course Tim & Jason end of getting roped in on this. Damian's grown since he's first came to live with his father. He still is a little brat to his older brothers - he's the baby of the family it's his right - but he doesn't actively hate them anymore and can admit when their particular skills would be useful. Tim is the best at strategizing, and Jason is a combat master with access to all sorts of weapons. With all of them working together Santa has no chance, they will destroy him.
Which all just makes me think of something like this happening lol:
“What…uh, what are they doing?” Duke glanced between the chaos unfolding in the family room to where Dick was calmly seated in his favorite chair, sipping idly at a cup of coffee.
“Sibling bonding.” Dick said. There was that specific aura of calm around him that said that he’d already gone through several crisis and all the stages of grief at least twice. Considering the calamity and chaos the eldest batkid had seen over the years - and especially the last few months since Bruce officially adopted Danny and brought him into the fold - it was a bad sign that he’d reached this particular state of Done (TM) before noon. The earliest Dick even woke up was two in the afternoon.
Duke contemplated turning around right then and there - the particular combination of people all excitedly feeding off each other’s feral energy on the other side of the room was a catastrophe in the making he didn’t want to be anywhere near when it finally breached containment and spilled out into the wider world - but unfortunately he was cursed with the curiosity that afflicted all members of the bat clan.
“It looks like they’re plotting to try and kill Santa Claus.”
Dick turned to look at Duke fully for the first time since he’d entered the room. He had the eyes of one that was deeply haunted by the horrors they had witnessed. On the other side of the room Tim was ranting about anti-magic tech while Danny, Damian and Jason argued over what weapons would be most effective against a demi god. There were schematics of what looked worryingly like a rocket launcher looking device that - if the scribbles on the whiteboard someone had drug into the room where to be believed - was going to be rigged to shoot ecto-grenades.
“Danny hates Christmas.” Dick said, and Duke noticed for the first time that his hands around the coffee cup were faintly trembling. “He’s declared Santa is his arch nemesis.”
Duke blinked, glancing over to the others long enough to see Danny start frantically scribbling the words Christmas Nuke on the whiteboard. No one else was trying to erase it. Tim looked worriedly contemplative. Damian and Jason where both nodding in agreement.
He was going to regret this. “But Santa isn’t real?”
Dick’s eyes gained a faintly manic glean, and Duke could faintly hear the sound of porcelain creaking warningly beneath the desperate hold he had on his coffee cup. “That’s what I thought!” Dick said, with enough cheer to make Duke flinch back instinctively. “But apparently he is.” A distinct crack appeared in the cup, coffee dripping down into Dick’s lap. “And apparently they’re going to war with him!”
Well, Duke considered, at least that explained why he caught the four of them burning down the giant Christmas tree in the city center last night.
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nyerusnova · 8 months
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Glad to see that Tim being a giant Dick Grayson fanboy is finally being highlighted again, and sparking more discussion especially on their early relationship! (Please gimme more!!! I love them so much, augh!)
Probably as a result of that surge, there seems to be reciprocal chatter on the topic of how young Tim actually felt towards Jason, too. It's honestly pretty interesting, because it's more nuanced than it appears at first glance.
Which means it's very fun to dissect! ✨
There's a degree of subjectivity to keep in mind, because readers are going to have different interpretations of the same scenes, or will pull from entirely different scenes than one another to form their individual view on this topic. That's just how it is in comic book fandom, for many things! Regardless, in this case... if the scale ranges from the extreme of "Jason was Tim's Robin" to the other extreme of "Tim actually hated Jason [as Robin] or thought he was a loser that got himself killed" — the actual truth is closer to the middle, as is often the case.
At least, in my opinion.
Mainly I want to focus on those relatively early days with this post, to highlight Tim's initial(-ish) feelings towards his heroes, and touch on the point at which they really begin to change. This turned into a very long post, though. Brevity is beyond my skill, so grab snacks and water lol. Transcripts for each image will be posted at the very end under the cut.
So, the two storylines I want to cover are "Rite of Passage," which is rolls into "Identity Crisis." (NOT to be confused with the major crossover event "Identity Crisis™" which came years later, and is where Jack Drake dies.... But it sure is an interesting coincidence that Tim deals with the loss of each parent in two similarly named stories!) These take place before Tim is even Robin, and I'll be considering them as one arc for this post.
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Detective Comics vol. 1 #618 (July, 1990) -- Pages 1 & 2
"When Gotham needed him, he was there. When the Batman needed him, he was there. He was a hero."
"One day, I'll be as good as Jason. One day I'll wear the suit."
To start off, we have this opening from "Rite of Passage." Tim is still in training here, mainly helping Bruce with minor stuff from the cave. His parents are off traveling, alive and well as of these next few pages. He's still bright-eyed and full of wonder. An extraordinarily weird but ultimately innocent kid.
So his view on Jason is positive and fairly simple: a hero, and someone to look up to as Robin. Clearly, Tim here doesn't think Jason was deficient in his role, either as a protector of Gotham or as Batman's trusted partner.
Moreover, Tim already held Dick in very high regard because he was amazingly skilled before he became Robin. To Tim, that's not something he'll ever be able to achieve. Meanwhile, Jason wasn't like that. He was a regular kid without crazy acrobatic training since practically birth. Yet he still went on to be a hero—which is obviously motivational for Tim who finds himself in similar shoes.
It's true that Tim only ever knew or thought of Jason as Robin, and idolized him in that regard. But that's kind of all that mattered to him at that point, because he was this kid who was utterly star-struck by his heroes. Even if he's technically aware of their shortcomings as people, it's overshadowed by the hero-worship.
It was kind of the same with Bruce as Batman at first. (Which was still enough for Tim to risk life and limb to help his beloved hero, before Bruce even knew his name.) Dick was the only one Tim had any sort of "personal" relationship with beforehand, so there is an extra level of attachment—and hence why it was the nidus for his obsession with Batman. Yet even then, it wasn't like he actually knew anything about Dick as a person until later. Until then, Tim's ideas of him were all he had, too. With Jason, Tim just didn't get to know him at any point before his return (oof), apart from what he heard over the years secondhand (also oof).
Ultimately, it's the loss of innocence—along with the ricocheting bullet that is the unresolved guilt of those around him—that begins to change Tim's perception. Not just of Jason, but of things in general.
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Batman vol. 1 #455 (Oct., 1990) -- Page 13
"I know why they do it now. Why they put on the suits, and the masks, and go out into the night. They're angry, they're full of rage. They want to hit back."
Losing his mother was a major shift for Tim, obviously. This is right after the previous storyline, and Tim's had the worst week or two of his life (so far). His monologue here is a reference to what happened to both Dick and Jason. The unbearable pain of loss, the rage masking the grief underneath. And importantly, that he feels both of them were justified in their anger. (And Bruce too, indirectly.)
The major theme of the aptly named "Identity Crisis" is to mirror aspects of Dick and Jason and Tim's lives—to show how they converged onto the same tragic road. It's something that Tim notices early in the story, and was frightened by. Now, horrifically, it's become a part of him as well. His parents are gone, and he was entirely helpless to do anything about it. Dick was the same way, Jason was the same way. The cycle is repeated.
In particular, the part about him wanting to go to Haiti for revenge—for his mother—sort of struck me as being an intentional parallel to Jason and Ethiopia. It's a bit of a stretch, especially in isolation, so others may see it differently (e.g. the angry ramblings of a grieving child that does sound like something anyone might say). But it always stuck out to me because of how much Tim is compared directly to Jason in this arc. More on that below.
It's not something I can really give an accurate feel of because it's a lot of subtle things that begin to add up, so I'd encourage folks to read this arc themselves to see what I mean. (Or maybe you'll still disagree which is fine too lol.) Again, many things are in reference to both Dick and Jason in relation to Tim, but it's weighted more on Jason's side.
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Batman vol. 1 #455 (Oct., 1990) -- Page 18
"You think my anger will boil over, the way Jason's did. I can assure you, it won't!"
Tim's grief has begun to pull away the veil of idealism that enshrouded his heroes in his mind. It doesn't apply only to Jason, but to the rest of them. Plus add the fact that Tim's keenly aware that he's being managed, even if the adults around him are careful to not outright say certain things. He still knows.
Bruce, Dick, and Alfred are all worried about Tim potentially turning into "another Jason." They (and mainly Bruce) caution Tim to not ignore his emotions, but they're still concerned that he may be overly eager to prove himself in order to cope, and could get hurt or killed as a result. While they aren't wrong for their caution—especially at how unsettlingly similar all the circumstances are—they aren't very subtle about the elephant in the room.
Imagine how that would affect Tim's perception of his predecessor, especially when he's in the midst of a traumatic event he hasn't had time to fully process. The negative association is pretty much inevitable.
Tim's known from day one that he's walking in Jason's shadow, and now it's become inescapable. Tim went from seeing Jason as a goal to reach, to feeling that unless he surpasses him, he wasn't going to be taken seriously by anyone. However, as of this arc, Tim doesn't even fully come to that point yet.
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Batman vol. 1 #456 (Nov., 1990) -- Pages 14 & 15
"Drop-outs don't make it. And dead heroes are no use to anyone!"
It's really easy to take away "Tim totally thought Jason got himself killed" as the main thing here, but I think that's missing the forest for the trees.
First some context: Bruce has gone out on a mission to get Scarecrow, and expressly forbade Tim from doing any shenanigans. Meanwhile, Tim is grappling with wanting to prove himself and trying to help Bruce from the cave, all while trying to deal with his emotions. At some point, he falls asleep and ends up having like... exhaustion-grief hallucinations of Dick!Robin and Jason!Robin who confusingly caution yet encourage him. The main theme of this part is facing your fears.
Depending on how you want to interpret the intent of Jason's dialogue here, you could go several ways with it. Ranging from "writer's feelings towards Jason" to "a peek into Tim's mind as his fears manifest as visions of his heroes" or some mixture thereof.
Though Tim argues with Bruce that Batman needs a Robin, we're shown that Tim is understandably scared of joining Batman's "war." He's still not willing to let Bruce go it alone, though, and that's something he feels more strongly than his fear.
Meanwhile, hallucination!Jason's warnings are a lamentation of what happened to him in a way, but it actually exactly describes Tim's current situation even more so. Unlike Jason, Tim is under-trained, under-experienced, doesn't even have a suit of his own yet. But like Jason, he can't sit by and do nothing while someone he cares about is in danger. Tim knows that if he goes out there, he will probably get himself killed, and it will be his own fault. So he's about to disobey Batman's orders, and fly right into danger. If that got Jason killed, then Tim—who is in a way worse position experience-wise—has every chance of ending up the same.
Like... it's about Jason, but it's also about Tim. It's Tim's worst fears made manifest, via the representation of why he is even here in the first place (Jason's death).
That's my theory anyway, but perhaps this is an overly charitable reading of this scene on my end. (Not that I think that makes me wrong lol.) However given that Grant wrote both parts of this arc, and the beginning of which is especially favorable towards Jason, it certainly is something to ponder. I have a lot of thoughts on it I can't expand on here tbh but perhaps that'll be another post.
Anyway, returning to the point of the similarities vs differences between Tim and Jason: since this is the arc that solidified Tim as the next Robin in comic continuity, it makes sense that the writers really pushed the comparisons between the two of them, specifically. (Even though Dick was pretty similar, as going against Batman's orders is the Robin thing to do, it's not his shoes Tim is directly filling.) So making Tim's "debut" story arc mirror Jason's "swansong" is an obvious narrative choice.
To drive home the parallels, I wanted to include this panel from just a few pages prior to the "daydream":
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Batman vol. 1 #456 (Nov., 1990) -- Page 9
"The suit is magic."
That so distressingly close to Jason's famous "being Robin gives me magic" line (Batman #385, page 6). Given all the previous context, it's hard for me to just dismiss it as pure coincidence. Even if it is, the point still stands. Tim is shown having the some of the same heartbreakingly naive views as Jason once did, right in front of Jason's memorial, just as he's about to go and run off into the night against orders.
I think that speaks for itself. There's a lot to take away from it, if you so choose. Especially given the context of that specific Jason arc.
Alright, back to the main course:
So in the end, Tim actually goes out in civvies and a ski mask because if he fails, then at least he wouldn't bring shame to Robin's legacy™. When he gets fear gassed saving Batman, it's once again both Dick and Jason that he hallucinates encouraging him to push past his fear. (Shout out to the fact that he's literally more afraid of tarnishing the legacy of Batman & Robin than he is of dying.... I'm sure this will not be a recurring thing for him in the future.)
Tim's ideology is shown to be similar to Jason's, and the actions Tim ultimately takes are similar to Jason's... but the outcome is different. And it really isn't just "Tim succeeded where Jason failed." At least, that's not what I took away from this. Rather, Tim had no reason to succeed any more than he had to fail, just that he did. Luck combined with caution because he knew what happened to his predecessor, and the fact that Batman was there to finish the job all made the difference.
You could say (and I know some will) that it's just classic Jason character assassination and the writers trying to implore readers that this new kid is different we promise pls don't hate us look how much better he is! But in this case, that feels like it undermines the whole point of this story. It doesn't fit with what the characters actually say.
Thus, we return to the question of how Tim felt towards his predecessor. And the answer is different from where we started, because Tim is different. Not that different though. Because even though at this point Tim—like all the adults around him—has probably attributed Jason "going off on his own" being what led to his death, Tim still thought of him as a hero to look up to. It's about Robin, first and foremost, yes. But Tim is fully aware of the people who made that suit mean what it does, because it's all intertwined.
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Batman vol. 1 #457 (Dec., 1990) -- Page 20
"I mean--Dick made it into a symbol the whole world knows. Jason gave his life for it."
Even further, Tim thinks of it in terms of Jason having given his life for what he believed in, for the legacy that now falls to Tim. There's a sense of gravitas there. He's afraid of failing both the Robins who came before him.
Ultimately do I think Tim adored and loved Jason on the same level as Dick or something? No. It's not comparable. (Dick was like part of some of Tim's earliest memories and everything! They have a really unique bond ok.) Yet Tim was also far from thinking poorly of Jason so early on. Frankly, it seems that Tim thought of Jason as a noble hero and a cautionary tale. Yes he took risks and sometimes went too far, generally stuff that Tim doesn't want to repeat and all that. At the same time, Tim still saw him as someone whose legacy and memory was worth honoring.
It's complicated, which is why I like it so much—because it feels real. Having conflicting feelings towards someone is... so human. Especially someone you never got to know, yet who plays such an integral role in your life via the shadow of their death. How can you feel anything but complicated towards them?
It has to be said that, yes, Tim's views—even before Jason's return—change over the years. He becomes more jaded as a person and is surrounded by people who are even more jaded than him... and who often mention Jason as the "failed Robin." It's something that's hung over Tim's head all the damn time. The curse of the Robin mantle.
So it shouldn't come as a surprise that Tim's idea of him becomes more akin to "sounds like a skill issue" as the years go by. All bets are off after Jason's return, and the Titans Tower Incident™. At that point it's firmly "I am better than you, loser" lmao.
And... that's all without getting too into things like authorial intent and general "moods" of different DC writers towards Jason at a given point. Or retcons that played a role in his characterization and how other characters talk about him, depending on what "era" you're reading. That's way beyond the scope of this post though!
TLDR; even though young Tim Drake was obsessed with Dick Grayson as Robin, he still looked up to Jason Todd as well. He didn't think of Jason as a cringefail loser until later. :)
(image dialogue transcripts under cut ↓)
Dialogue Transcript for Image 1 (Detective Comics vol. 1 #618 -- Page 1):
Narration box (Tim): When Gotham needed him, he was there. When the Batman needed him, he was there. He was a hero.
Dialogue Transcript for Image 2 (Detective Comics vol. 1 #618 -- Page 2):
(Scene continued from previous page)
Narration box: But he was nothing special, really. Just a boy, who was taught--trained--brought to his full potential by someone who knew how. Just a boy... like me. I know I can do it. I know I can. One day I'll be as good as Jason. One day I'll wear the suit. One day I'll be a hero.
Dialogue Transcript for Image 3 (Batman vol. 1 #455 -- Page 13):
Tim: I hate him! I hate him! I know why they do it now. Why they put on the suits, and the masks, and go out into the night. They're angry. Full of rage. They want to hit back. They want to fill the hole that's burning inside them.
Bruce: There's more to it than that, son. Much more.
Tim: I know. It's just--I feel--like going to Haiti myself and strangling that creep with my bare hands!
Bruce: The Obeah Man will spend the rest of his life in a prison hospital. He's history. Forget him! But don't fight against your anger. It's natural. Accept it. Live with it. One day it'll be your friend.
Dialogue Transcript for Image 4 (Batman vol. 1 #455 -- Panels from page 18):
Tim: Because you think my mother's death has upset me too much. Well, it did. But I've taken your words to heart. I can cope. You think my anger will boil over, the way Jason's did. I can assure you, it won't. But that doesn't make any difference, does it? Why can't you have a little faith in me?
Dialogue Transcript for Image 5 (Batman vol. 1 #456 -- Page 14):
Narration box (Tim): Blast it! My head's starting to swim. I'm about ready to give up. I almost wish I'd never heard of Batman and Robin!
Vision Dick: Heroes never give up, Tim.
Vision Jason: You know that.
Tim: Dick--! Jason Todd!
Vision Dick: You're training to fight in a war, Tim. It'll last all your life. No matter what, you have to go on fighting.
Vision Jason: Drop-outs don't make it. And dead heroes are no use to anyone! I thought I knew better than Batman. I thought I could run before I could walk. I killed myself, Tim. Because I couldn't wait. Because I couldn't think it through.
Dialogue Transcript for Image 6 (Batman vol. 1 #456 -- Page 15):
(Scene continued from previous page)
Vision Dick: Think, Tim. Concentrate!
Vision Jason: You can do it.
Both: You can do it!
Tim, waking up: What--? Robin...?
Narration box (Tim): I must have been daydreaming. They're right, though. There's a solution to everything. I can find it! So here I go again... Whim. Caprice. Doing something without forethought.
Dialogue Transcript for Image 7 (Batman vol. 1 #456 -- Panel from page 9):
Narration box (Tim): The suit is magic. It gives you power. It hides your weakness. It makes you give it everything you've got. It makes you a hero. If only I could!
Dialogue Transcript for Image 8 (Batman vol. 1 #457 -- Page 20):
Bruce: Are you afraid of it?
Tim: No. It isn't fear. It's more... the suit carries so much history. I mean--Dick made it into a symbol the whole world knows. Jason gave his life for it. Failing them--what they fought so hard to build--that's what worries me!
Bruce: I appreciate that, Tim. That costume weighs a whole lot more than any symbol should... and I'd be failing you if I expected you to bear that weight. So... let me know what you think.
Narration box: A mask has a double edged, he said. It hides your own anxiety as it strikes fear into your enemy.
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