#Jason more often than not is more like Bruce in the sense of being able to control his emotions | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

navree · 9 months

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I don’t know if it’s been asked before but why do you like Batman? What’s so special about him?

It's been talked about a bit by me just rambling, but never really explained in depth, and even then, I never mind repeating myself <3

So, a not insignificant part of it is that one of the first TV shows I ever remember watching, other than Redwall and Dragon Tales was the DCAU Justice League show, and I immediately fell in love with their version of Batman, especially how he was performed by the late, great Kevin Conroy. So I just started seeking out that version of Batman through the DCAU shows when I was really young, like, seven years old, and it just kinda imprinted itself on me, the way media often can when you're a young child. And I do maintain that, despite some flaws (like the Jason Todd-ification of Tim Drake for no reason, and the obsession with making Bruce and Barbara a couple, which just.....hurl) the DCAU characterization of Batman as a person and as a hero is is the gold standard. But I did start reading comics once I ran my way through all the shows, and that core love still remains.

Part of it is, again, he's Amélie's very first blorbo ever since the mid-2000s, but Bruce as a character is genuinely compelling. Bruce goes through an unimaginable trauma at a very young age, and rather than how most people would react, he chose to do something with it. Seriously, if you think about something like the death of Batman's parents happening in the real world and you just read about it on the news, that's horrific, and it makes sense that it's not only fucked Bruce up, but could have potentially resulted in him turning into a mess. And he is a mess, don't get me wrong, but he also chose to be more than that. He chose to create Batman, to try and help a city that was drowning and make it better. There's an element of choice to Batman's character and his arcs that I've always liked. He doesn't need to do anything that he's done. There's no outside force compelling him to try and create a better version of his city where no one has to experience the hurt that he went through. There's no external pressure demanding that he protect the world even in the face of odds that he cannot win just to keep innocent people safe. There's no ulterior motivator making him take in children who have nothing, children who need a home and a family and loving care, other than the fact that he wants to do right by them and he has an infinite capacity for love in his heart. Bruce has no responsibility to Gotham, the people of Gotham, to other heroes, to the world, to random kids he meets on an off chance. No one asked him to do anything he does, and he's under no obligation to do it or continue. Bruce could stop being Batman tomorrow and dismantle the entire operation and turn his entire family into civilians, and nobody would be able to say he can't do that because he had no duty to start it in the first place. But he did. He chose to do good, to turn his pain into a drive to try and make life better for people in his city, to take a drive that could become a very selfish motivator (for instance, devoting resources solely to finding Joe Chill) and using it for something purely selfless (putting his own self on the line, in all possible ways, just to make sure people can lead better lives and that no one ever experiences the pain that he has).

There is a fundamental goodness to Bruce Wayne's character that is incredibly compelling. Because it would be so easy for there not to be. And he's had a fair amount of writers who've forgotten that it's there (people who write abusive Bruce Wayne are never seeing heaven), but if he's got someone who understands the character, then yeah, he's good. He's selfless and he's kind and he's got a capacity for love and care that is astounding. He opens his heart to children he has no connection to purely just to give them a good home, he refuses to harden himself against letting people in even with the amount of times he's been hurt, he never stops trying to help people who are hurt or sick get better (as clearly seen in his neverending quest to try and help Harvey Dent be rehabilitated). He's a good person who chooses to keep that goodness and not let it slip away from him, no matter what, even when he would be well within his rights to. He never lets himself. I mean, God, Bruce Wayne is someone who will personally resuscitate a man he hates more than anything, a man who murdered his child, just so that his other son won't become a killer and have to live with that guilt (that's real fyi, Dick Grayson once beat the Joker to death after the Joker had taunted him with details of his murder of Jason Todd's, and Batman, along with possibly Robin, managed to revive him so that Dick wouldn't be guilty of murder). Bruce Wayne is someone who could have been fundamentally broken by the things that happened to him, if not the murder of his parents then certainly the murder of his child (and we know it did alter a lot of his personality, which makes sense, cuz his kid died), and no one would have really blamed him. He could have become cold and cruel and a killer, and he knows he has that capacity within him, but he actively chooses not to.

And he doesn't always do the right thing; trust me, if you're a fan of Jason Todd, you're well aware of the fact that Bruce doesn't always do the right thing. He falls short. Batman is only human, and he makes mistakes. He makes wrong and bad choices, he fucks up and needs to try and fix it, he fails to meet his own standards (I don't know how many times I need to say it, but for all intents and purposes, Batman has absolutely broken his no kill rule, going into his confrontation with the Joker in Batman #429 with the express intent to kill, refusing to save him when he can, and never expressing a moment of doubt or remorse when he's believed to be dead, is basically Batman breaking his no kill rule, the only reason it doesn't technically count is because the Joker is revealed to have survived, but he had intent and he never had any remorse or second guessing, it counts as breaking the rule). Bruce has fucked up, with rogues and cases, and with friends and family too, and he's had to live with those mistakes and, if he's got a good writer at least, try to rebuild from there and earn whatever redemption he needs to depending on how big the screwup (and how much the writer either thinks Bruce is an untouchable god/hates whoever he hurt, no I'm not bitter about Certain Storylines, why would I be bitter?).

Bruce Wayne is incredibly human, painfully human. He lives in this world of gods and monsters and there he is, a man with a plan. And it is enjoyable, from a character perspective, that this man who is nothing but human, entirely ordinary, is able to fight and talk and think circles around people who'd routinely be considered superior, who has this place as one of the most god-tier people in his universe entirely because he's earned it, because he's lived up to his potential and his reputation. But there's also something beautiful in that. Like yeah, Bruce is stupid levels of rich, but beyond that, there's really nothing outwardly special about him. He's just a man. But he becomes larger than life through his actions, the choices he makes, the fact that he be brought low as he could be, low as he'd have the right to be, by his circumstances. His goodness remains intrinsic to him, and he refuses to give it up, because it's the core aspect of his humanity, a humanity that he refuses to relinquish in the face of greater and mightier odds and unspeakable evils, and it speaks to an immense fortitude as well as just how good he is.

(and I know there are a lot of generally bad faith criticisms made about the concept of Batman, and what Bruce chooses to do but a) no he does not go around beating up pickpockets and the mentally ill, he either stops crime non-lethally and informs the cops or is specifically asked to intervene in something by the authorities, not to mention that the "mentally ill" people that are his rogues are also basically domestic terrorists who are often full murderers, sorry that my heart does not bleed for the fact that the Joker has some kind of disorder while Batman punches him in the nose, and b) the fact that the system Gotham has in place is made explicitly clear on numerous occasions to not be remotely adequate to deal with what they have to deal with, that a lot of the cops and politicians and people meant to protect citizens are either completely inept and terrible at their jobs or just straight up corrupt and actively making the situation worse, and I do find it amusing that a lot of the criticisms of Batman come from left wing Twitter activists who crow about the incoming revolution but then go catatonic at the idea that a fictional character has decided the system is too corrupt to work with and thus forcibly changes it from the outside, isn't that what y'all's fucking incoming commie revolution is meant to do? Just sayin. Also no, he's not a fascist, tf, words mean things.)

And from a character perspective, from my enjoyment of him as a part of a fiction and an overall puzzle piece in a greater story (cuz I always do try to separate liking a character as a person vs liking them as a character), I'm not immune to the fact that Bruce's complexities come from a good number of tragedies. He's not real, and it does add to interest in him as a narrative device that he deals with a lot and needs to react to it and overcome it (and he deals with a lot, I wrote a list and it's not even comprehensive I definitely left out a lot just out of pure forgetfulness). Watching Bruce as a character, already with all the traits I enjoy listed out above, deal with the things he has to deal with makes him not just a character to enjoy as person, but a character to enjoy as a character, as part of a larger story, as a significant part of what makes that story rich and compelling and routinely interesting even when it's been going on for close to a century. Plus, again, from a character perspective, he's got fascinating interpersonal relationships that are captivating as well and add to his own complexities, relationships not just in terms of romance, but with friends and allies and enemies and especially with family (I think it's kinda impossible to be a Batman fan and not have an insane number of thoughts about the relationship he has with at least ONE of his kids).

There's a lot that's been written about Batman that I don't like, I am not a fan of DC's insistence that Bruce is a shitty dad who routinely beats his children, and it does feel a lot of the time these days like Bruce is a character that I like more for his potential than the way he tends to be written. But I still love that potential, and the kind of character he can be in the hands of a competent writer (and given what a decentralized medium comics are when it comes to canons and characterizations, you have to allow for that kind of leeway in a way you can't with other forms of storytelling) is one that can be truly great. As a character, he's kind of everything you can want, flawed and imperfect and deeply human, but always trying, and with not just a rich interior but complex relationship dynamics that have helped shape who he is.

Ultimately, I think why I like Bruce is best summed up by something Amanda Waller said in the Justice League Unlimited episode Epilogue: I've never met anyone who cared as deeply about his fellow man as Bruce Wayne. And I love him for that.

#personal #answered #anonymous #batman #bruce wayne #so this got.........Long #he's just special to me ok #the way i literally paused my ghost files episode when i saw this pop up in my inbox #that should tell y'all why i like batman #tldr there's this element of choice in who bruce is and how he takes on the world that i just adore #and also a lot of childhood nostalgia is involved #seriously watch epilogue #(this is also probably not comprehensive just cuz i slept badly and my thoughts are all over the place)#(and again he's a character that's been around for so long i'm probably forgetting a lot of why i enjoy him)#(but have the behemoth of feelings)

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captainlordauditor · 1 year

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very serious question - have you watched Titans? i feel like. they have massacred my boy. re: Dick. like the characterization of Every Single Character kills me. i’m lowkey hate watching it but i can’t stop

I'm in the middle of it right now - I just started season three, since I have no attention span for binging.

I actually don't hate large portions of its characterization. It kind of reminds me of a lot of the, like, 2000s-mid 2010s B shows that you'd see on Syfy or similar channels, where the characters are just fleshed out enough to make them feel watchable. They're not full on real people, but they're more like bas relief carvings than cardboard cutouts (It actually pairs nicely with the 2002 Birds of Prey, which was definitely a B show of that vein, and works from the same point of view that Titans does, as an Elseworld). So far the characterization for the most part doesn't feel bad so much as simple.

The characters aren't all that different from comics counterparts at their base, but the plot often demands that they act like idiots - often rude or cruel idiots - to make it work. The episode where all the Titans gang up on Jason, for instance - okay, one, not in the comics, but two, it makes no sense that they would all instantly blame Jason, who has no way of knowing about half their triggers and not, like. One of the empaths.

If anyone feels the most off to me it's Donna, which I think is a result of the Titans take on the Amazons being excessively 2000s B-show-esque. I'm also not personally a fan of Barbara being police commissioner, which ties into my issue with their portrayal of the police overall as a force that Dick doesn't really contend with as an enemy until the middle of season 2, and even then only pretty temporarily. How this relates to the whitewashing of Dick is another matter. The thing about Dick's characterization in Titans is that it's pulling a lot from a lot of very different sources to create a new Dick Grayson, rather than showing one that already exists in a specific continuity. Dick's anger and estrangement from Bruce is from the 70s-80s Bat comics. A lot of his characterization in relation to the other Titans feels very reminiscent of New Teen Titans, where he's the straitlaced serious leader who's too similar to Batman. In Titans these attributes have been adjusted accordingly from the source material they're pulled from to meet the more violent tone of the show. They also included something that's one of my favorite Dick-things in the comics, which is his hallucinations when he's having a Bad Time - instead of hallucinating Jason in prison, Dick hallucinates Bruce, the family who's currently lost to him.

Where Titans really falls down is that it doesn't want its characters to change. It's pretty decent at set up (the scene where Dick talks about burning the Robin suit) but then it doesn't necessarily follow through (he keeps being ultraviolent and killing people just in civilian clothes). This is really apparent in its Jason. In his initial introduction, even post-Crisis, Jason was a sweet, bookish, caring kid once he adjusted to life at the manor. His violence was (and even as an adult to some extent still is) a manifestation of his powerlessness at not being able to protect people, which included both his dad and random people on the street. After his death, flashbacks and retcons turned him into the angry brash kid a lot of people think of him as, which is the route Titans chose to use. And this doesn't work, because if you're writing Dick during one of his "Fuck Batman" moments, and you're also writing Jason in one of his "fuck Batman" moments, and you're trying to show that Jason is the Bad One, then you have to flanderize Jason to have contrast, and then there's nowhere for him to go when he grows into Red Hood. They had an opportunity to do a really heartbreaking tragedy where the sweet 15 year old who quotes Jane Austen turns into a villain, and they didn't do that, because they can't write actual growth.

This ask was about Dick but I do want to touch on a couple of the other Titans real quick - Raven is fine, Titans just pulls from her more modern portrayals, which is not the version of her I prefer. Gar, again, fine, and I really wish they would give the actor more to do. Kon does seem to be younger, but it feels like a deliberate choice, and one I can't bring myself to have issue with given some of the shit that was in his 90s book. The other character I really want to talk about though is Kory.

Titans gets a lot of flack for its portrayal of Kory and as far as I can tell it seems to break into two main categories, which are 1)"I don't like Kory's life not revolving around Dick Grayson" and 2)"I'm racist". I'm paraphrasing, and maybe doing so in bad faith, but it really does seem that I saw a lot of people complaining about Kory having another love interest for five minutes but nobody complaining about Dick having other love interests in the show. And obviously, there was the "this woman who shows less skin than she does in the comics looks like a hooker" from people who didn't like that she was played by a Black actress.

But I'll take this in good faith. You don't like Kory because she's not like she was in the comics. Okay. In that case, I'm simply going to pull out my comics and ask you to consider the baggage a comics-accurate Kory would have on a live action screen played by a dark skinned Black woman:

(From New Teen Titans (1980) #2 - context is the Titans are at the pool, Donna gave Kory a bikini)

I for one am pretty glad that Titans went with "princess used to the finer things in life who's fed up with being royalty" instead of "scantily clad woman who lets her emotions guide her and is extra violent compared to the fully clothed White characters". (more panels under the cut so as not to clog your dash)

If I'd read NTT before Titans came out, I would've been pretty damn skeptical of the casting, because without changing her characterization I think it would've been one of those times where raceblind casting just absolutely does not work. NTT Kory really falls into that intersection of Nubile Savage and Green Skinned Space Babe that you see in stuff like JC's Avatar and Star Trek: TOS, and which has some pretty racist undertones already. As much as I love Kory, I'm incredibly glad that this characterization has largely been left behind for her, even though I'm also not fond of the cartoon's characterization.*

also from New Teen Titans (1980) #2

Both from New Teen Titans (1980) #16

From New Teen Titans (1984) #11. I'm certain there's more instances before this of Dick and Donna referring to her as "savage" but I don't have them handy because I didn't mark them in my notes.

*I think the cartoon leans a little too much into "let's laugh at this woman experiencing culture clash!" for my taste, which is... understandable given it's a show from 2003 for ten year olds, but is very unappealing as an adult. The ideal Koriand'r characterization is actually Red Hood and the Outlaws issues 10-13 and I will not be taking criticism until you've read the story

#titans dc #titans tv #dick grayson #bouncing off the walls #starfire #koriandr #jason todd #team tag for the teen titans #arsonist's lullaby #firebird's child #meta #ntt #anti marv wolfman

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dairy-farmer · 1 year

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I'm sorry but you know what would be funny? Tim being dad-shaped instead of wife-shaped or mommy-shaped or son/daughter-shaped. Jason just makes a small little insult and Tim just rolls his eyes and says "I'm gonna build a time machine and become your dad" and now everyone just daydreams for a little moment and next thing you know they're all competing to have Tim spend time with them, be proud of them, etc.

no because as much as we joke about tim being mommy material and mommy shaped and mommy coded- the amount of daddy issues the entire batfam has (primarily because of bruce) is absolutely ENORMOUS!!!!!!!!

and tim well...if you look past all that soft outside and how much smaller he is- tim is...pretty dad like.

he's into sports and often invites members of the family out to games that he has season passes to.

tim will spend hours changing oils, fixing engines, and repairing equipment for someone. aside from bruce the person they go to for mechanical issues is tim.

tim is the most unbiased person they know. and if they go to him with a personal or professional problem they know that tim's response will have everything that they need.

tim rarely gives out compliments or words of approval but when he does they know he means it.

tim is different from bruce, the only father figure they have. he doesn't have invisible expectations of them, he isn't this brick wall that needs to be deciphered, tim's love isn't conditional, he cares for them no matter their past mistakes.

even bruce feels an odd sort of shift in his gut when he hears the murmurings of how tim would be a nice dad to have and sees his sons behaving....off, seeking tim out more- reporting to him the way they used to to him, seeking out his attention and validation and love- all that bruce had never been able to really give them.

(dick had always jokingly asked bruce for a hug before he left for work each morning but now he practically bounced on the balls of his feet as tim hugged and kissed him goodbye and told him he'd be back in a few hours. damian had been having tim attend parent teacher conferences in bruce's stead. jason 'jokingly' bought tim a 'world's best dad' mug but looked choked up when tim actually used it (bruce learned very quickly he could lose a hand if it was the only clean mug and he tried reaching for it))

bruce's dad had been loving but he'd also been the one to dish out the punishment when he misbehaved. bruce recalled when he was small and his father would call him into his office when he heard about how bruce had thrown a book at a girl's head in daycare. or about how bruce had been keeping a family of ducks in his locker.

he'd never spanked bruce but he'd had a disappointed furrow in his brow and shook his head like he couldn't believe it when bruce would admit to having purposefully hurt someone.

tim had the same look in his eye when bruce would admit a deceit or underhanded move. that same headshake and long, drawn out sigh as he said "oh, bruce."

bruce couldn't explain why but after tim left the room, bruce's hands shook for several minutes. a strange and rare sense of shame filled him.

tim and bruce had their disagreements. they were rare but they still occurred. but tim and bruce's fights were different than the harsh yelling and tensed insults that were flung when bruce fought with his sons.

between him and tim it always felt like tim took the highroad, shaking his head and just being quietly disappointed in bruce.

tim never really expected bruce to change or even to apologize. and normally bruce would ignore the small flicker of guilt.

but seeing how he'd praise damian for a good test score or jason for not getting the new jacket tim got him dirty, or dick for helping alfred with dinnner.

meanwhile he'd ignore bruce. keeping silent at the dinner table and only discussing work matter with him....

the next time bruce screws up and tim is asking him about it.

bruce apologizes. it's quiet and short. but tim's eyes widen all the same, his eyes staring at bruce for several moments before a small smile blooms across his face.

"apology accepted bruce, i'm very proud of you for telling me."

tim's hand is small and warm as it strokes bruce's cheek and something....something in bruce shivers at the sensation, tilting his head in the direction of tim's hand as it retreats.

bruce does register on some level that he's competing with his children for tim's affection. if he stopped for a minute to analyze he'd probably compare himself to the 'difficult' child of a parent. he's tim's jason.

bruce is the child that doesn't like sharing, that lies, that hides away from his family, that refuses to communicate-

so when bruce 'turns a new leaf' and tim starts praising bruce more- bruce can see how his children all go a bit sour at it.

maybe if bruce had eyes on the back of his head he would've seen the gleam in their eyes when they were all lounging at the pool one day and bruce was getting ready to leave to a midday meeting with tim.

children do have a tendency of being envius when their caretakers attention is taken off them.

bruce's back was to them which was the fatal mistake and before he knew it he was upside down and underwater.

he broke the surface quickly to the sound of riotous laughter from all three, even damian.

normally bruce would feel irritation, maybe even annoyance.

but the only feeling that flooded bruce was humiliation at the laughter, a strange sting in his eyes also had him turning away from the three and focusing on trying to push himself out.

but bruce's suit was a silk blend and he just slipped right back in with a splash.

the three of them laughed louder until-

"what did you do?!"

tim didn't yell often. tim wasn't a yeller. but now his voice was raised and as bruce inched his head up he could see the fury painted on tim's expression. his tie was still undone and his hair was unbrushed.

none of them had a chance to say anything before tim was at the pool edge and trying to tug bruce out.

"did you three seriously push your brother in right before his meeting that we're already late to?"

tim is fussing over bruce's ruined hair stcking to his forehead and shooting looks over the three ashamed fingers floating in the water.

dick looks like he's on the verge of drowning himself. jason is biting on his bottom lip and damian is refusing to meet tim's eyes.

tim's eyes are narrowed for a second before he shakes his head and points at the three of them.

"we'll talk about this when i get back home but right now i need to get your brother a new suit and pray that traffic is light."

tim shepherds bruce back into the house with him in a daze.

brother.

he called bruce their brother.

bruce had always known he was a lousy dad. he just...he couldn't do the things that all parents seemed to already know what to do.

he used to take dick out to galas lasting up until the morning light and only when articles were published about him being an irresponsible father did he realize that wasn't appropriate.

he allowed jason to sneak liquor from the locked cabinet and bought his cigarettes for him and it was only when the school called him about confiscating the pack they'd found during the monthly 'randomized' locker searches that he was told it was inappropriate for jason to have them.

he allowed damian to stay out all night and even travel to other states on his own because...because damian was responsible so it should've been okay.

bruce knew he wasn't a good father and he was only a somewhat competent mentor.

the only thing he'd been semi good at had been...being someone's son.

his dad had never had to have the same talk with him twice. bruce was always polite and remembered his manners. he brushed his teeth twice a day and made his bed every morning. he picked up his toys and took care of all his things.

being a son...bruce had known what to do there. he'd known how to do it right. it was why tim had started praising bruce so often, stroking his hair and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

"your brothers i swear, they have no idea what it means to take a joke too far!"

tim is pulling out clean pairs of socks while bruce squishes pool water on the carpet below.

bruce had never really been very good at the dad thing.

tim tugged a fresh suit out of the closet.

but maybe...he could...

"they didn't mean any h-harm...father."

tim doesn't blink, instead focusing on undoing all the buttons of bruce's shirt.

"maybe not but i'm still going to be telling alfred to only serve you dessert tonight- those rascals know better, i've taught them better!"

bruce feels something like amusement tug at his lips. that and bubbling happiness as ti- father. as father laments his soaked suit.

father.

that word hasn't left bruce's lips in a long time. yet it still came out as naturally as anything else.

#anonymous #asks #answered asks

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ghostdrafts · 2 years

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Duke Thomas or maybe jason todd

Okay, so initially I was planning on doing both, but I got carried away with Duke, because I never get to talk about him on here, so now you get to hear all of my pent up emotions. Enjoy! <3

I'm not going to lie, this one tripped me up a little bit, and after a lot of consideration, I've made up my mind. But I want to explain the thought process a little before I tell you what it is. Duke's main personality trait, in my opinion, is how insanely strong willed he actually is. And I mean that in a bigger sense than just his determination to fight. When the whole Robin War thing happened, he was the one to go up against a Rogue Damian Wayne, which... the idea of that is terrifying in itself lmao. As if Damian's not naturally feral enough, BUT baby boy Duke Thomas was fucking relentless until he was able to convince Damian to see reason and come with him.

He is often portrayed as the most laid back one out of all of them and I think a part of that is because he's more prone to following Bruce's instruction, because his training is still fresh compared to the rest of them, but he is a chaotic ball of sunshine. This is the kid that literally just jumped off a bridge to run from the police. The same one that actively decided (on more than one occasion) to go fuck up some criminals who haven't even had their coffee yet at the crack of dawn, because why not.

He's caring, enthusiastic, eager, passionate. Any synonym of any of those words, it's him and you can count on it. He continues to drive himself forward in a way that ignites his spark and he's so psyched to be doing it. He also gets left out of too many Batfam narratives, because he still has two living parents, but he cherishes his found family dearly.

And he has one up on every other member of the Batfamily. He is super direct and upfront about his feelings. I feel like he probably internalizes a lot from the people around him, but when it comes to what he's feeling at any given moment- if he's scared, having anxiety, or pissed off, he's not afraid to admit it. He knows what he's capable of, but he also knows his limits.

That being said, those fears aren't enough to pin him down or discourage him. He's going to keep going. He's going to keep fighting and falling and laughing and smiling along the way.

This is the really longwinded way of saying that no matter what kind of shit he gets himself into, he is the embodiment of 'just happy to be here' and that's why his song is On My Way from Brother Bear

#askghost #duke thomas #dc signal #batfamily #disney song pairing #I just have a lot of feelings okay

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theodorecanaryhood · 2 years

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Unfortunate meeting

Jason Todd x male reader…including bat fam

It took all of Jason’s strength to help him out in this fight, all of his energy to keep getting back up. He got too tired in the end and thought best to give up.

It went black all of a sudden and Jason couldn’t remember what had happened or where he went, he was still asleep in the white Hospital room with Bruce, Dick, Tim and Damian standing over him.

Watching him as he looked rough with his heavy eyes finally closed in his much needed long sleep.

Dick was still Jason’s emergency contact which made sense, at least at the time it did. As he couldn’t use Bruce as they weren’t on talking terms. Tim and Damian were too young, no offence to the boys but they weren’t very useful in this sense.

Jason was going to use you as his emergency contact in case of anything, but it would be hard to explain to his family to have some random person they’d never met. Course they’d heard of you, but they didn’t know anything about you.

Jason met you on a cold New Year’s Eve about 6 years ago, the two of you becoming good friends quickly. Seeing as both of you were good friends with Roy, you were crossing paths often.

Eventually Jason realised his feelings to you were stronger than he realised, he asked to hang out with you. Just you, you and him. Making it a date after the first hour, which shocked you as you had no idea how he felt.

So now, it would be weird to just have you show up in front of everyone. Jason forgot one thing, you were the last person he had called so Bruce was able to call you once he got Jason’s phone, call to alert you of what had happened.

‘Hello, this is Bruce Wayne, I’m Jason’s Father. Jason has been in an accident, he’s in Gotham Metro hospital’ was all he said on the other line, as your heart pounded. Not being able to say anything except.

‘On my way now’

…

‘He looks rough’ Tim nearly whispered, Dick smiled a little as he shot of look of worry.

‘He got beaten up pretty bad’ Dick responded, Bruce stood at the foot of the bed, not taking his eyes off of his second Son.

‘He let his guard down, I don’t know why he would do that’ Bruce had a frown that was unreadable, yet a hint of sadness in his voice.

‘Jason can be reckless sometimes’ Damian proclaimed, everyone more or less nodding in agreement. He was reckless once before which caused his death.

‘I think he’s waking up’ Dick rushed to his brothers bed side, Jason looking ahead to see Bruce standing in his room.

‘Am I dead again?’ He joked, Bruce shook his head.

‘No Son, Dick called me, guess he’s still your emergency contact’ Bruce presented with a soft smile as he went to Jason’s bed side too.

‘Yeah I was meaning to change that’ he wheezed as he tried to sit up, Dick shooting his hands on Jason’s shoulder to urge him to stay still.

‘You got some broken ribs bud, you need to take it easy’ Jason only rolled his eyes in response.

‘How you feeling?’ Damian tried his best to show sympathy for his older brother, which came off as sweet in a way.

‘Great’ Jason said sarcastically as everyone smiled at him.

‘I called y/n, the last person you called before it happened’ Bruce informed as Jason shot a wide eyed look to the man.

‘Really?’ He asked in a small panicked response, he wanted you to meet everyone, but not like this. Also he wanted to be out to his family first too.

‘She’s on her way’ Bruce continued as Jason looked confused.

‘She?’ Jason answered with a question as Bruce now gave a confused look. That’s when you entered the room, everyone turning their eyes to you.

Your h/c hair and piercing e/c eyes stood out first, your average stature, tall but still noticeably shorter than Jason, your expression on your face. The expression of concern for Jason and expression of panic on your face with a room full of Jason’s family.

‘Hi’ you smiled slightly towards your bedridden boyfriend who’s face lit up when he saw you.

‘Hi, y/n this is my family, everyone this is y/n, my boyfriend’ Jason revealed to a very stunned family.

‘Mr Wayne, pleasure to meet you, even under the circumstances’ you held your hand out to Bruce with a pleasant smile. Bruce reciprocated with a gentle smile as he accepted your hand shake and returned it.

‘I’m Dick’ Dick smiled as you walked a little towards Jason’s bed.

‘Jason never shuts up about you’ you laugh, sitting on the side of Jason’s bed.

‘How you doing big red?’ You beam as Jason takes your hand automatically.

‘I’m good babe, thank you for coming’ he stroked his thumb over yours as Dick smiled, Tim slightly more as he seemed the most happy and comfortable for Jason.

‘Good, my pleasure to come. Who else can I nag?’ You laughed as Jason puckered his lips at you, you side eyed as you spotted Damian and Bruce.

‘What?’ Jason asked with concern, you just grinned as you looked at the family.

‘I would kiss you but everyone is looking’ you chuckled, Dick waved his hand in a gesture to say ‘who cares?’ So you nodded.

Leaning down and kissing Jason hard as he accepted straight away and held your face close to his.

‘Whoa, that was sweet’ Tim almost howled, seeming to like what was going on. A twist of events no one saw coming, not even the Great Detective.

‘Want to go get a coffee?’ Dick asked you, Tim and Damian. You all nodded, you leaned down and pecked Jason’s lips.

‘I’ll get you a muffin’ you chuckled as Jason raised an eyebrow at you.

‘Better, make it a big one’

‘To compensate for your tiny brain’ you winked as you walked out of the room with his brothers.

Jason lay in the bed with Bruce standing at his side looking down at him, Jason huffed at him with a quizzed look.

‘What old man?’

‘I’m happy for you, y/n seems like a great guy. Seems to really care for you’ Bruce spoke with sincere honesty.

‘He is, I love him a lot though I think he loves me a little more’ Jason sighed, his eyes glistening as he spoke about you.

‘Son, I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you more’ Bruce put a hand in his Son’s shoulder, giving a look of apologies.

‘It’s ok B, I haven’t met you halfway’ Jason confessed. Smiling at him slightly, Bruce rubbed his Son’s shoulder a little as he moved towards the seat.

‘While we have time, time just me and you why don’t you tell me more about your boyfriend’ Bruce suggested, Jason smirked as he began to tell Bruce the story between the two of you.

***I want to do more with Dick so suggestions are open if anyone has ideas ***

#red hood #red hood fanfiction #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #gotham #jason todd #jason todd x male reader #jason todd x oc #red hood is the best #red hood x male reader

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youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 3 years

Text

The Kind that Never Slows Down | Damian Wayne

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x female!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 10k

✦ summary — Gotham is hit with a spell that changes your perception of Damian forever.

✦ warnings — nsfw, semi-public sex, non-con sex (not really but just to be safe), angst, language, light jealousy, light possessiveness, mentions of food, smut, unprotected sex (please don’t do this), consensual sex, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, fluff.

✦ author's note — this one should’ve been published a long time ago, but I just got around editing it. Hope you like it.

════════════════════════

The abandoned building smelled like piss and mold, the only light available entered through a broken window, and you were pretty sure you had heard rats roaming around.

But you didn’t care. Robin’s hands were all over you, plump lips sucking on your neck like his life depended on it as he pounded into you.

It wasn’t enough.

He had skipped foreplay on your insistence. You needed him more than anything, if he didn’t fuck you right there in that moment you wouldn’t be able to survive.

He grunted out of pleasure as you clenched around him, gripping your hips to ground himself as he picked up his already relentless pace.

It still wasn’t enough.

Having his cum down your thighs and marks over your neck from his kisses wasn’t enough either. Your body craved all of him, including his whining and abrasive words.

Noise outside prompted him to part from you completely. Both of you fixed yourselves as best as you could in silence, avoiding looking at the other.

You followed him outside with a sense of guilt hovering over you like a dark cloud. You felt like you had just gotten out of a trance after committing the worst of the crimes.

Nightwing stopped you by yelling, “Where were you? I looked for you two everywhere.”

“We were looking for you,” Robin lied smoothly.

Nightwing’s shoulders slumped as he nodded. “Well, Zatana undid the spell.”

Suddenly Damian’s urgent voice as he said he needed you made all the sense in the world. His need for you and your need for him had been magic-induced.

Of course it had been! You two were mere acquaintances who fought all the time for the most minimal things in the world or ignored the other to the point of making people around you uncomfortable. It was a surprise that you worked well together at night.

“A lust spell, right?”

“Well, no,” Nightwing chuckled. “According to her, the spell showed people what their heart desires the most.”

Robin stiffened beside you, and you felt every drop of blood drain from your face and fall to your feet.

“Did you hear a lot of people having sex?”

“Yeah,” you croaked. “Tons of them.”

The moment you got home, you ripped your suit off and walked into the shower. You washed his cum off you, scrubbing your body twice just to make sure.

Wishing the soap could erase the marks on your neck and the memory of the way he had moaned your name, you decided to take a pill to sleep.

You hadn’t needed one of those in months, but Damian was that special. Or annoying.

God, you hated him and his stupid ego. He would surely find funny the lengths you would have to go to put this in the past.

He loved being the center of attention as much as he hated you, that was why you always tried your best to avoid him. When you didn’t avoid him, he made weird faces at you and scoffed every time you laughed.

Turning the lamp off, you hoped for the best.

Meanwhile, Damian ignored Dick’s inquiries. Why did his brother care if he was extremely quiet or if he looked like he was about to explode?

Your scent was all over him, still bewitching him, overpowering his sweat and the smell of everybody around him.

Looking down at his hands, the gloved palms that had hours before gripped and traced as much of your body as your suit had allowed him to, Damian clenched his jaw.

How could he have been so stupid? There was no other reason for you to beg him to fuck you the way you had — magic! He fucking hated magic.

But Dick’s explanation... that was worse. More stupid. He hated it too. His brother had to be wrong.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone from his family was wrong regarding magic, and Zatanna while an expert had her own biases.

Besides, his heart could have been desiring to get off the most just like yours. The two of you were busy people after all.

“Did the spell show you anything, Dami?”

The prettiest face he had seen in his entire life. “A pet demon.”

He regretted the lie the moment he said it. Damian wished a lot of things could be different. His mother would be furious if she knew how sentimental he was becoming, if she found out how often he gave into wishful thinking.

For once, he wanted to be open. But as always something was stopping him. Sometimes he wondered if he had been born to be like that or if his grandfather had simply lied.

Leaving the cave the moment he was dismissed, he trotted upstairs almost praying Dick wouldn’t follow him.

He couldn’t stop replaying the way you clung to him, or the harshness of your kiss. It had felt real, and too perfect to be happening to him all at once.

But you hated him, everybody and their mother knew that.

════════════════════════

Barbara had never been subtle around you. There had never been a need for such a thing — she was like the older sister you never had, you two carried the other’s secrets and burdens.

Back when you met her, barely as a teen, she provided a safe place you only had ever dreamt of having. You vowed to give it all back; she deserved it.

“What’s up with the turtleneck?” She asked, unsubtly so with her bright eyes on your neck.

“I have a cold,” you feigned a rasp. Perhaps this secret wouldn’t be shared.

“Mmmh. Really?” She poured herself a cup of coffee. “Dick said Damian was feeling under the weather too.”

Yup. Definitely not sharing. It would be embarrassing. She had always had the theory that you were in love with Damian just because you complained about him on a weekly basis.

It was like she had never met him.

In a way, the theory was correct. But it lacked a lot of details — a spell had confirmed it from all things. It sounded ironic, quite suitable to your situation.

“Flu season, I guess.”

It was a bad lie. Everybody knew when flu season arrived because Tim started getting a stuffy nose and limiting his consumption of Red Bull in order to drink more water.

”Did the spell from the other night show you anything?”

You faked a cough, shaking your head. “I was busy on patrol.”

“I was too and I saw Dick.”

“That’s just wishful thinking, Babs. It’s cute, though.”

Her not seeing Dick would have surprised you. They had known each other for years, gone through so much together... most people wanted what they had.

“Is there a particular reason why you’re lying to me?”

You wrapped your fingers around your mug. The heat transferring from the ceramic to your palm reminded you of Damian’s breath on your lips.

Taking a gulp of coffee, you blinked rapidly. “You don’t think it’s cute?”

She rolled her eyes. “Everybody saw something. It’s how those spells work.”

“There must be something wrong with me.”

There really had to be something awfully wrong with you. Saying out loud that you wanted Damian more than anything in the world terrified you.

It was a normal thing. Not wanting him specifically, but wanting someone — everybody craved attention and love at some level, you just happened to crave Damian’s at every single one.

He was the problem, not you.

════════════════════════

Movie marathons weren’t something Damian really cared for, but they were better than hearing his father complain about minor things like if he had ruined a goon’s lungs or whatever.

Alfred called it bonding time which he supposed was a fair assessment. He found Tim’s taste in movies quite good, and now he didn’t get the urge to strangle his slightly older brother in his sleep.

His stepmother was there too. Selina had been the reason why Bruce shifted his ways, she urged him to either find a balance or stop adding people to the team.

Duke made him pass a bowl of popcorn to Tim who did the same to Stephanie. The bowl landed on Dick who was on the row behind them, just next to Jason.

Getting more comfortable on his seat, his eyes fell on the empty spot to Duke’s right. Cassandra used to sit there until one afternoon Duke couldn’t seem to shut up and she asked you to switch places. You always went with the things Duke said, sometimes even asked his opinion.

Damian complained once, telling his sister to suck it up next time. But Cassandra would never do something he told her to, that was perhaps why she was his favorite.

Everyone around him was in an amazing mood which he didn’t understand. Bruce had just tried to tell a joke, and Jason was mocking how dumb it was.

Selina laughed loudly, in that way people did when they felt genuinely happy. At least that was what he supposed; Damian wasn’t sure he had ever experienced happiness.

The sound of an approaching wheelchair made his ears perk up. Not a single pair of shoes could be heard against the floor. Fighting a frown, he turned to look at the door.

Barbara waved at all of them with a smile, maneuvering her wheelchair to sit next to Dick’s seat. Craning his neck with the excuse of saying hi, Damian watched her give Dick a chaste kiss.

“Where’s (Nickname)?” Dick asked, lifting his arm to rest it on the back of Barbara’s chair.

“She said she was feeling sick. Although...” Barbara giggled, leaning onto Dick’s arm. “I heard the voice of a guy in the background so she might have company.”

Damian felt sick upon hearing such a thing. First, you had asked to be paired up with Duke for patrol and now this? It was too much even for your pettiness — granted, he had planned on putting more distance between you two, but he hadn’t gone around trying to find someone to erase you.

The thought never crossed him, not for a single moment. He had wondered why he wished to cling to a memory when he had never been the sentimental type, but he realized that to be the entire point of deep desires.

“Well, it’s time,” Stephanie commented, “she’s been single for too long.”

“Let’s hope we don’t have to scare him off,” Selina added.

Damian stood up from the now uncomfortable seat, forcing Duke to do the same so he could leave. Duke stared at him weirdly, with worry, as if he knew something Damian didn’t want him to.

He probably did. Damian had been careless two times in a row. God, he needed to get a fucking grip. Unconsciously, he fiddled with the neck of his sweater.

“Oi,” Jason called for him, “where are you going?”

“Out,” he answered angrily. “If other... members... may skip this, why can’t I?”

Barbara and Dick shared a sideways glance.

Only telling Alfred that he would be back later, Damian followed the path towards the garage. Skipping his bike for once, finding himself thinking he wanted to take as little shortcuts as possible for whatever reason, he took his car.

Damian had always been a fan of driving. He didn’t know why, it was tedious and didn’t serve many purposes in the grand scheme of things; not to him. Ever since he learned, he took every opportunity he got to drive whichever vehicle he could get his hands on.

Having control over vehicles and machines was nice, he supposed. If people were a little bit more like said things, everything would have been easier. The world would be boring, but easier to habit.

Saving people was easy, caring about them from afar gave him enough human interaction for his standards, but he would never understand them.

And for the first time since he tried to decode his mother’s attitude, he wanted to understand someone more than anything. Perhaps that way said someone would understand him back and untangle this mess.

The building before him wasn’t welcoming. He had never put foot into that place, but he knew every single person that lived there — patrol gave him that kind of knowledge. And he did some research months ago, but no one needed to be aware of such thing.

He pressed his ear to the door he had been looking for. The dishwasher was on, but he couldn’t pick up any other sound. Damian knocked on said door three times, quickly and loudly. There was no answer so he did it again. A door slammed shut inside the apartment, a groan accompanied by a string of curses got clearer as stomps approached him.

Standing tall and straight, he felt a thrill down his spine as the lock was loudly fiddled with.

You swung the door open, rubbing your eye. He observed you had thrown a turtleneck on, upside down. Damian walked past you without invitation, analyzing the living room.

There were no clothes scattered all over the floor like he had imagined he would find.

“What are you doing here?”

He ignored you, exploring the kitchen. Damian opened the fridge, narrowing his eyes as he inspected. He did the same with the cupboards.

Shoving your bedroom door open, he found the bed undone. The TV was on, playing an old movie. He heard your steps as you followed him, repeating your question.

“Is someone from the team in danger?” You asked next.

Damian pulled your closet open, tilting his head. You could’ve been more organized, he admitted to himself, but there was nothing unusual.

Craning his neck to look at you, he inquired, “Where is he?”

“Where’s who?! What’s going on?”

He stared at you, waiting for you to crack. To his surprise, you stared back — defiant, blinking less and less as the seconds passed.

You were mad, he could tell. It only made him grow more suspicious. Tensing under your eyes, sharp instead of soft like they usually were, he scoffed; he couldn’t show he cared.

“Dude,” you insisted, “you are scaring me. What happened?”

Shaking his head, he pushed past you again and continued his search. The bathroom was warm, the mirror fogged up and tiles sprinkled with drops of water.

He turned around, watching you again. Well, your hair was wet now that he paid more attention to it...

Damian checked in the small laundry room too, but he found bottles of detergent and folded towels next to your suit. Nothing else. No one else.

“Damian—“

“Shut up.” He pointed at you with a finger.

“You are the one who came to my place to look for whatever or whoever you are searching for! Unprompted!”

He didn’t answer.

You went back to your bedroom to turn the TV off and pause the movie, resigned to the fact that he had ruined your self-care day.

No one knew you would be home that day. You had ignored everybody’s calls and avoided being active on social media just in case they were stalking you. Turns out the utmost secrecy isn’t enough to avoid Damian Wayne.

He stood in the living room, looking down at the coffee table as if expecting the furniture to turn into something else. Fixing his eyes on the centerpiece he knew Dick had given you as a gift because it reminded him of you, Damian furrowed his brows.

“Have you been alone the entire day?” He asked, feeling your presence behind him.

“My neighbor brought some cake. Other than that, yeah.”

“Barbara said you had... company.”

“I haven’t talked to Babs in days.”

Barbara had continued asking about what you saw that night with the spell, and you weren’t willing to say it still. Weeks had passed, but it felt like mere seconds had at times. It was so easy for her to ask, to assume things.

Only you knew the conflict you were feeling. She would never understand how awful it was to find out the one you desire the most is the one who likes you the least.

You had entertained the naive idea that he was in the same position, but the more you replayed what had happened, the more you convinced yourself it had been one-sided. He gave in because the release was pleasant, nothing else. People say things they don’t mean while having sex.

You had done it before, for fuck’s sake. You had faked having a good time before, who was to say Damian hadn’t done the same with you?

“Have you seen anybody else?” He blurted.

“My neighbor, I told you.”

He reformulated, “Have you had sex with anybody else?”

You considered lying, you really did. It would make the tension go away, you would have to see him around with other people but it would save you from a lot of embarrassment.

A part of you told you it was stupid, that you wouldn’t be able to take it. Much less when the people who usually took some interest in you tended to ghost you for whatever reason.

“Not since that night, if that’s what you’re asking,” you admitted.

“Good.” It slipped, but he didn’t care. He meant it, and it felt nice to say things he meant, no matter how harsh they could sound.

You rounded the room, crossing your arms as you stood in front of him. “Why are you here?”

“I was told you had company,” he repeated himself.

“And your logic was to interrupt me?”

“Yes.”

You couldn’t believe him. Did he want you to be alone and miserable your entire life?

The worst part was that you would probably be. Finding out you liked him, that you wanted to have him around, that you craved his attention, and his touch, rocked your world and shattered it.

Who would ever compare to him? His flaws were other people’s better qualities, even you who didn’t know his good side that well was aware of that.

“Do you really hate me that much? I’ve never done anything to you!”

He finally lifted his head. You wished he hadn’t, you wished you didn’t have to see anything other than anger in his handsome features. “I don’t hate you. I would make your life a living hell if I did.”

“You could’ve fooled me,” you chuckled, way more sadly than you thought yourself capable to feel regarding anything that came from him. “You roll your eyes at me every time I visit your house, Damian.”

“It’s not intended at you.”

“The scoffs sure are,” you reproached him, “and your stupid comments of how unfunny anything that makes me laugh is.”

“It’s not because of you,” he shouted. Shaking his head, vexed, he twisted his mouth as he huffed his anger out through his nose. “Cassandra’s jokes aren’t even that funny.”

“See?”

“Why don’t you laugh at mine?” He reproached now, crossing his arms to mimic your stance. “Why is it always one of my siblings or my friends who get a positive response but not me?”

“Oh, come on! You’re saying that like I didn’t come by hearing you say my name a few weeks ago!” Your words stunned him into silence which you used to your advantage. “You never tell jokes in front of me, how am I supposed to laugh at them? I always feel like shit because you only accept being around me on patrol, you entrench yourself in your room and make a point to slam the door shut just so I hear... you know what? Forget it.”

“I hate seeing you with them,” he said, wishing his words hadn’t carried that much emotion. “I always bribe people to not ask you out or to leave you alone, I have to watch you hug Jon and kiss my siblings’ faces. You’re always so damn nice until I appear... I prefer being alone than enduring your indifference.”

You widened your eyes. “You bribe people to not ask me out?!”

“Is that the only upsetting part from everything I said?” he snapped.

“No, no. Of course not. I just...”

He hummed. “It’s stupid, I know.”

“A waste of money, honestly.”

“If I didn’t, you would be with someone else right now. Probably Duke, you’ve always liked him.”

“You bribed Duke?” You let a small laugh out. “Duke? Our Duke?”

“Yes! Stop mocking me.”

“Duke knows everything, you know?” You admitted, uncrossing your arms.

You hadn’t been able to keep things to yourself for that long. Seeing Damian around suddenly hurt. The feeling had always been there, but finding out that he was your heart’s deepest desire wrecked your perception

When you told Duke, he reacted casually, as if you had told him the most obvious thing in the world. He said you and Damian were the only ones who hadn’t seen it.

“He knew certain things before I did, in fact,” you added. “Besides, I see him as a brother and he sees me as a sister.”

Damian nodded. It made sense, now Duke’s attitude seemed normal in comparison to what Damian had assumed.

He always assumed things. Bruce had told him once that he needed to learn to ask before acting out — this was the first time Damian found his father’s words useful.

“Why did you kiss me that night?”

“I believe it was more than kissing.”

“Yes.” Damian hadn’t been able to forget, he never would. “But why?”

“I felt... I don’t know how to explain it,” you confessed.

The room suddenly felt small, extremely hot. You shed the stupid turtleneck, it wasn’t like he hadn’t done the stubborn marks on your neck.

Make-up had hidden them well for a few days, and most of them had faded already, but there were two bite-marks, too big and deep, that needed more healing time.

“I was scared,” you told him, “that’s why I felt the rush to take your hand. And it was enough for a while, but then it wasn’t, I wanted you closer.”

“I couldn’t breathe. I assumed I was being poisoned. Then you took my hand and I panicked for a moment, I thought...” his voice broke.

You gave him time, trying your hardest to hide how surprised you were by hearing him like that.

“I thought you were having the same symptoms,” he rasped. “I’ve been trained to fight those things off, but you haven’t and I knew you would die. Your hand made it better for a few minutes, then I needed you closer too.”

“We can forget about it if you want,” you assured him, avoiding looking at his face in case your comment relieved him.

“I don’t.”

Damian reached for your hand in the same fashion you had that cursed —literally— night, shakily, urgently.

And in the same fashion he had, you allowed him to take it.

He brought you closer to him. You observed he looked more tired than ever, perhaps because things had been tense for the past weeks. You couldn’t have possibly looked too different.

“The spell doesn’t have to dictate this,” he said, tilting his head to look into your eyes. “It won’t. You know I don’t trust magic.”

“The spell is not the problem,” you whispered.

“I didn’t think there was a problem.”

“We have never spent time together outside of patrol, Damian.”

He sighed, nodding. “Get changed. Let’s go out.”

Only a lunatic would give their self-care day up for a guy. Well, you didn’t really care if people thought you were a lunatic, and Damian wasn’t just a guy — still, giving up the ice cream in your fridge was a sin.

A sin you were happy to commit.

Damian waited for you to get changed, patiently if anyone asked you. It had taken you a few minutes to even choose something appropriate, based on his own outfit because that was just logic.

He slipped his cellphone into his pocket while you locked the door. As you turned around to take off, he offered his hand.

You took it, intertwining your fingers with his as you walked down the hallway. In the middle of the stairway, you bumped into one of your neighbors who smiled sweetly at both of you. To your surprise, Damian smiled back.

Also surprised to discover he hadn’t taken his bike, you bowed as a thank you when he opened the door of his car for you.

“Do you want to put some music on?” he offered.

“You pick,” you said, curious as to what he would play.

You could’ve sworn he was nervous as he stared down at his phone, looking for something to play. He scrolled down, then up — he switched apps, then continued scrolling.

“I’m not picky.” Your tone was soft, an attempt to assure him.

“I don’t really listen to a variety of genres.”

“What do you listen to the most?”

“Classical. My mother got me used to it.”

You rested the side of your head on the backrest of the seat, looking at him. “You can play that if you want. Or we can just talk about the weather and whatnot. I think it might rain tonight. You like rain, right?”

He locked his cellphone, turning to face you. “Yes. It calms me.”

“I hated it as a kid,” you disclosed, hoping it would ease the tension and better his mood. “I was scared of thunderstorms.”

Igniting the engine, he prompted you to continue, “Not anymore?”

“No. My mom used to tell me that the only reason why they were so noisy was that the sky was happy to unwind and eventually I believed it.”

“That’s cute.”

“I had a phase in which I was in a bad mood if it didn’t rain.” You laughed at your own comment. “Now I like it just fine, less obsessively.”

“I had a similar fixation with snow.” He laughed too, and your stomach did somersaults — it was the first time you had heard him laugh genuinely.

Damian didn’t talk about life at The League often, he didn’t feel compelled when he knew the preconceptions that came with simply mentioning the place or his maternal family.

In fact, everything Batman Inc.’s members knew had been from Bruce. He liked the secrecy, those were parts of him and no one else. But he was willing to share tiny pieces with you.

He saw it as something supposed to be shared between two people interested in starting a relationship.

So he continued, “I would only climb mountains if they were covered by snow. My mother called me a brat many times, but she gave into my wishes for a while.”

“How did you grow out of it?”

“I broke my elbow.” He briefly looked to the side and then took a turn. “I proved her right, and I didn’t like not having the last word so I started despising the snow. I don’t mind it now.”

Before you could ask anything else, he pulled into the grocery store’s parking lot.

He picked a basket once inside the store, making a motion for you to follow him.

“What are we buying?”

“Fruit and whatever you want for a picnic.”

Realizing you weren’t near the fruits aisle, you gripped his sweater, steering him to the other side. Of course he wasn’t used to doing groceries.

He silently allowed you to guide him which was a win, Damian hated being told what to do no matter how small the suggestion was.

It didn’t take either of you too long to get everything you needed, but he spent ten minutes choosing a blanket as if he wouldn’t ruin the poor thing with mud and insects.

Passing the clothing area on your way to do checkout, you elbowed him on the side. He stared down at you, then followed your eyes as he realized they were fixed on something.

Damian groaned. “You’re so funny.”

“Oh, come on! You’re telling me you wouldn’t buy Batman underwear?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“I am not.”

You narrowed your eyes, keeping your laugh in when you saw what resembled a pout on his face. “Robin’s?” you tried.

“Perhaps.”

You lost it at that. “Are they comfy?”

“Will you stop laughing if I say yes?”

“Only if it’s the truth.”

He just nodded, then did the gesture upward so you would resume the path towards the exit.

Pleased with his answer, you walked towards the checkout line. Damian stood behind you, breathing your scent in.

“Is that a new perfume?”

You craned your neck. “How did you know?”

Shrugging, hoping he was being nonchalant enough, he said, “I have a good nose.”

After a brief fight over who would pay for the groceries, —which he won by saying it had been his idea—, you left the store in direction of the park.

Your hand found his naturally, as if your palm’s place was to be pressed against his bigger one.

It felt good, but not really because of that bullshit —true, but bullshit still when magic was so unpredictable— of him being what your heart desired the most. The truth was that you could feel in his grip how much he wanted this to go well.

Swinging your clasped hands, you walked around the park, looking for the perfect spot to sit at.

You found a spot away from the kids running around, against a tree. Damian laid the blanket on the grass, placing the paper bags onto it next.

He slid an arm around your shoulders, using his other hand to eat.

“Do you think your family is already spying on us?” you asked gazing at him as you leaned onto his arm.

“I am certain.”

“You don’t mind?”

He lightly smiled at you, reaching for a strawberry. “Not at all. Do you?”

“Nah. I’m not looking forward to Barbara’s teasing, though.”

“Why did she tell us you had a guy over?” He bit down into the fruit.

“She has always said I have feelings for you.” You wiped the corner of his mouth with your thumb. It never occurred to either of you that you would need napkins. “And I guess she put two and two together when we covered our necks and used the same excuse.”

“In my defense, I could have blamed Tim.”

“In my defense,” you copied his smart-ass tone, “I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“You told Duke from all people.”

“Duke was supportive.”

Damian hummed sarcastically. “I’m sure everybody knows the details already. He loves to gossip.”

Seeing you frown before you turned to look to the other side, he reached for your farthest cheek, softly pushing your face so you would stare at him.

“I don’t care if they know.”

You wished you could have believed him. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have avoided me the same way I avoided you.”

“I cared,” he clarified, “not anymore.”

“What changed?”

“Me, my priorities… my vision of you, of this.”

You took an apple in your hand. Rolling the fruit in your grasp, you only nodded. Saying something else would have been nice, appropriate even, but words escaped you.

The fact that he didn’t hate you was still pretty new, shocking to some extent. His willingness to be seen with you by family and strangers alike was a huge compliment, and a big deal.

It was too serious so suddenly… you liked it no matter how scary it was. There had to be a reason why he felt so sure about this, and trusting Damian had never been a bad idea.

Except from that time when you ended up with stitches all over your arm, but you could let that go if it meant having him by your side. As corny as it sounded.

“Meetings will be weird, won’t they?” You sunk your teeth into the apple, hearing him chuckle.

“Less awkward, I hope. Although I enjoy vexing my siblings.”

“We can have fake fights in front of them if you want.”

“And blame them for our nonexistent problems?”

“Of course, I’m sure they will try to give their input either way.”

Damian groaned. He feared just that. It would be out of a place of care, he knew, but it didn’t make it less intrusive — he could picture Dick, sitting down in front of him in the cave, with a big smile and dangling his finger as he told him the way he was supposed to treat you.

He liked to imagine that Cassandra would only threaten him. Perhaps Stephanie would do the same and stop Tim from patronizing him.

Not wanting to ruin the moment by thinking what would Jason and Duke do, he shifted and changed the subject to the movie you had been watching earlier.

You explained that it had been one of your favorites and told him the plot between bites, amused by the fact that he was trying to look interested even though you knew it wasn’t his type of movie.

He told you about the movies the team was supposed to watch that day. You didn’t feel guilty for skipping; as much as you loved them, you needed time for yourself.

Spending time with Damian on this occasion counted as time for yourself, although you would make yourself clear to him that you would eventually need alone time for real. It was a mere exception.

The two of you walked around the park for a while, talking about random things. He was surprisingly easy to talk to once you tried, and God did you try.

It couldn’t get better than hearing him speak casually, about the architecture nearby and the types of flora around the park, in a light tone and with his hand in yours.

Your fingers played with his, and once again you found yourself in awe of him, of how comfortable he was with the mindless gesture and his willingness to keep up with it. You doubted someone would ever surprise you as much as Damian did.

Slowing down a little bit to take the scenery in, you naturally tightened the grip of your fingers on his.

It was such a nice day to be outside… perhaps the weather cast had been wrong and it wouldn’t rain.

The city was bathed in a pink glow as the sun set, unrecognizable. No one would have guessed such scenery to take place in a deeply violent and corrupted place, not even the most optimistic person in the world.

You remembered clearly how surprised Jon had been the first time he saw something other than thundering rain and gray skies in Gotham.

Glittering under the sunlight, the flowers at the end of the playground looked alive for once as the sky stunned many around you. And when you turned to look at Damian, curious about his reaction, you found his eyes solely on you.

The trees, so green under the light of dusk, had nothing on Damian’s eyes. Such thought, so familiar that you felt as though it wasn’t the first time it crossed your mind, so natural that you found it a fact and not an opinion, made you forget about everything around you.

He continued gazing at you, finding the curiosity in your beautiful eyes flattering. Oh, how much he enjoyed being the object of your attention.

The scenery behind you was gorgeous, he was certain of it. In his opinion, you complimented the view in ways nothing would ever do — there was something in your peaceful semblance as you tore your gaze off the sky and admired him instead.

You could’ve been sharing a silent moment with the strangers around you, one of those things he had heard you say once made the world make sense, yet your eyes were on him, on his face. And it made him feel important like nothing before had.

His father’s praises, the ones he had sought for so long were nothing in comparison. Dick’s patience although fundamental to his development as a man fell short against the way your eyes were shining for him.

Twilight swirled around you, but his eyes never left your face nor yours did his. The world didn’t exist, and if it existed, then it didn’t matter — not when you found him worth all your attention, not when he thought you to be brighter than the sun itself.

The air in the car as he drove you back to your place was thick and tense. He hadn’t said a word since he told you about that time Bruce inaugurated the school across the park.

Damian looked lost in thought, like often you had seen him while out on patrol. The places his mind took him had never compromised his performance — you admired that.

Bruce had called him out an infinite amount of times, but he couldn’t do anything else when Damian always delivered. You had wondered how he did it many times, but now you had to assume Talia taught him.

He walked you into the building, fingers brushing your wrist as you fell in natural silence.

Fumbling for your keys, you felt him lean onto the wall just next to your door. You took more time than needed to open the door, hoping he would say or do something.

When he didn’t, you pushed the door open and turned on your heel to face him.

“I had an amazing day with you,” he said, eyes on yours.

You breathed out, “I did too.”

Why couldn’t the day last longer? You logically knew you would see him again, but something inside you wanted him to stay. You wanted him to stay, better said.

Would it be too bold, too sudden, to invite him in? He probably had patrol that night — hell, you were supposed to be getting into your suit at that moment instead of pondering on whether you were brave enough to imply you wanted to spend more time with him; preferably in your room, naked.

Fuck it. If he said no, you would say you had patrol either way.

“Do you want to co—“

“Yes,” he answered before you could finish the question, letting a relieved sigh out.

You pulled him into the apartment, arm around his neck as you used your other hand to close the door.

His lips fell on yours as he kissed you slowly, arms delicately around your plump form. He took his time to map your lips with his own, somewhat afraid of kissing you wrong.

Damian grew confident as you attempted to kiss him more firmly, as steadily as your giddiness allowed you to. Tasting the fruit he had eaten earlier off his tongue, you wrapped your other arm around his torso, bringing him closer.

Smiling on your lips, he angled his face, kissing you with the same urgency he had the other night.

Eagerly, he tangled his tongue with yours until both of you were panting in search of air. As you caught your breath, Damian fiddled with the ends of your turtleneck.

Clearing his throat, he asked, “Can I take this off? It’s getting in the way.”

“I can take it off—“

“I would like to do it, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t,” you assured him.

Damian slid the turtleneck off you slowly, huffing a small laugh when the blouse you were wearing under inched up. Placing the item to the side, he leaned to kiss your jaw.

Placing your hands on his sides, you slanted your head upon feeling his lips travel down to your neck.

He kissed the bite-mark left from before, softly, giving it small pecks. “Did I go overboard with this one?”

“A little bit. It’s been a pain in the ass to cover.”

“I’ll be more careful from now on,” he promised, leaving more light kisses over the area.

Your pulse quickened at the implication of his words. Damian felt the rush of blood on your jugular where he scattered wet kisses.

He trailed his lips up, breathing in your ear. You shuddered, fighting a whine as your hands looked for the hem of his crewneck sweater.

You inched the sweater up to his chest and waited for him to stand straight so you would be able to take it off. Damian was too busy kissing your face to care.

“Hey,” you did whine this time. “Damian, let me take it off.”

Smirking on your cheek, he hummed. Slowly, painfully so, he pulled away from you.

Once you had gotten rid of the sweater, you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss. He curled his arm around you again, wanting you flush against him.

He slid his hand down and took a handful of your ass, making you buckle your hips up. Dragging his lips to your jaw again, he said, “Your stupid suit didn’t let me do that last time.”

One of your hands stayed on his shoulder while the other landed on his hip. Your fingers played with the loops of his jeans as he continued gripping and grabbing your ass like he had never touched one.

Angling your face, you attached your lips to his neck. Damian’s grip on you tightened.

“I want to take it slow,” he whispered, “but you’re making it really hard.”

“Metaphorically?” You mouthed his throat, hand sliding down to his chest, squeezing itself between both your bodies.

“And literally,” he whined. You loved the sound, for once not demanding yet still bratty.

As your hand slipped downward, you continued kissing his neck, paying special attention to the juncture of his neck and shoulder. You hoped your lipstick wouldn’t dirty his shirt — or maybe you hoped it would, both were fine with you.

Damian put some space between you, understanding what you were trying to do. While you undid his jeans, he undid yours, considering it would be better to get rid of everything on his way now that he was still feeling patient.

Shoes and socks off, the two of you shed your jeans without care of where they landed. Now the living room’s floor truly was covered in scattered items of clothing and this time Damian enjoyed the view.

“Come here.” He reached for you, eyes on your chest as his hands ghosted your sides.

You looked up at him, unable to hide the enjoyment you got from his hungry eyes being all over you. Following their movements, you also observed their slow dilatation.

He inched a hand up your side. You assumed he would finally knead your breast but he merely ghosted its outline, head tilted as he watched his own hand move.

For a few moments, he only did that, almost as if he was in a trance. The warmth of your own palm on his lower abdomen as your fingers brushed the elastic of his boxers made him react.

You pushed him back, towards your bedroom, pulling the door open and shoving him inside. He smiled, lifting his arms in mock surrender.

Damian sat down on your bed, relishing into the smell of everything you owned — the bedding smelled like a mix of fabric softener and your delicious new heady perfume.

You got the urge to kiss his entire face, hands on his shoulders as he slanted his head back for you to do it comfortably. He relished on the gesture too, so spontaneous and warming.

He placed his hands on the backs of your thighs, urging you to straddle him. Watching you second guess yourself, he drew you closer to encourage you.

Giving a last kiss to his nose, you complied. Damian snaked his arms around your waist, a pleased smile pressing against your chin before he kissed your mouth.

You bit his lip, tugging on it. He crashed his lips against yours again just to then do the same himself, intentionally bitting harder than you had.

A moan escaped you. Feeling his cock twitch under your navel, you rocked your hips to watch his reaction.

His arms tightened around you as he tutted against your core. “This is the reason why I never train with you,” he groaned.

“I thought it was because I almost broke Tim’s leg once.”

“Don’t mention anyone else right now.”

Right. You had forgotten he had been jealous earlier.

Damian rolled over, switching places with you. He kissed you before you could pout, cradling your face with one hand while he held himself up with the other.

You placed a hand on his upper back while the other rested on the side of his neck, kissing him back with the same amount of passion he was kissing you.

He had you breathless in a matter of seconds, and as he broke the kiss, you saw his nostrils flare in attempts to catch his breath quickly.

Trailing kisses down your neck, he dropped his hand to your breast. This time he kneaded it, humming against your skin when you reacted with a small sound. His thumb brushed your nipple, playing with it while he busied himself with leaving marks on your chest.

So much for being careful, huh. At least those were easier to hide.

“Do you want me to eat you out?” He asked bluntly.

“If you’re in the mood.”

He kneeled on the bed, hooking his thumbs in your panties to slide them down. You lifted your hips to help him out, laughing when he threw your underwear behind him with little care.

You opened your legs for him, finding a comfortable position as he stayed there, taking all of you in, completely naked and at his mercy.

He kissed your thighs first, teasingly nibbling on them. Every time he got closer to the center, to where now you needed him instead of only wanting him, he pulled away and went back to your thigh.

Slowly, he dragged his index finger up and down your folds. Damian rested his chin on your right thigh as he watched his finger collect and smear your wetness, proud of the fact that he was the one who had made you wet. No one else.

Your breath hitched in expectant excitement as you saw him finally bury his head between your thighs. His tongue followed the same path his finger had outlined, at the same rhythm.

“You taste even better than I imagined,” he praised, licking his bottom lip clean.

As he gradually increased his rhythm, licking long stripes along your folds, you got bolder and urged him to be firmer by pushing your hips upward.

He moaned against your pussy, playfully sucking your labia to let you know he got the message.

Bringing an arm up to pin your hips back down, he used his other hand to open your legs a little bit more and part your labia.

Damian pressed his tongue on your clit, moving it gently at first. He wanted to know exactly what you liked and how. It didn’t take him long to switch between using his lips and his tongue which earned him a loud moan.

His hand caressed your thigh, eventually sliding between the mattress and your body to grab your asscheek.

You whined his name, reaching down to hold the back of his head. It was clear to you that he was enjoying every sound he managed to make you blurt, and it felt really good, but you needed more.

Out of nowhere, he tugged on your hips to slide you down the bed. Kneeling on the floor, he sucked fervently on your clit.

You fisted the duvet, begging him to keep going. Damian complied happily, mouth latched on your clit as your pussy swallowed his moans and the four walls of your bedroom made yours bounce.

They were music to his ears and his entire body. He could feel the tingling all over him, excitement and pride flowing through his bloodstream.

Massaging your ass, he couldn’t help but chuckle upon feeling both your hands on his head now. He allowed you to push his face farther in, not once slowing down.

Your hips bucked up and instead of restraining you, he moved with you. If you moved up he did down and vice versa. You got louder and he marveled at how responsive you were to him.

He growled, gripping your ass with force as he sucked on your clit until his cheeks were hollow. He let go only to repeat the motion, letting his tongue wander when he needed a break.

You tugged on his hair, squealing. Your body tensed in his grasp, prompting him to continue with his ministrations. Feeling the tremor in your legs as you tried to settle back down on the bed, he started lapping tenderly.

You caressed his hair, panting with your eyes closed. Damian lifted his head, hands softly dancing over your thighs as he stood up.

Feeling him hover over you, you opened your eyes albeit with a little difficulty. His mouth and chin glistened with your slick, wanton eyes inspecting your semblance.

“Do you want me to suck you off?” you rasped before clearing your throat.

He caressed your sweaty cheek. “Later.”

“Bu—“

He shut you up with a kiss. “Later, please? I just want to be inside you.”

Nodding against him, you kissed him again. Tasting yourself off his tongue was addictive. You held him still for a moment, licking your slick off his gorgeous face.

Damian growled, deep and loud this time, hands already on your waist. “Should I wear a condom this time?”

“No. Unless you want to?”

He shook his head. He didn’t want a single thing to keep him from feeling you fully. Damian stood from the bed. “Get on all fours.”

You rolled on your side first to then do as he had told you, holding your breath as you waited for him to stand behind you.

He rested a hand on your hip. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” you gave him your consent.

Damian entered you slowly, little by little, less worried about hurting you and more about making you feel every inch of him as his cock filled you.

You breathed out through a whine. He gave you time to adjust to his size, leaning to kiss the scar on your back.

Wanting to stay like that forever, you waited more than you should have to. If he was aware, he decided to be patient — such thing only made you grow wetter.

“Go ahead,” you told him, hoping you didn’t sound too desperate.

Reaching over, he gripped your hands. “You feel amazing, beloved.” He kissed your shoulder, nibbling on your skin as he rocked his hips.

God, you didn’t know if his comment had been what flattered you or the pet name. Either way, hearing them was as amazing as the way he felt inside you, filling you like no one before him had.

His hands left yours. He opted for placing them firmly on your hips and thrust into you steadily, keeping you from moving too much.

Humming in pleasure, you held the edge of the bed in anticipation. He went faster exponentially, calculating every single one of his thrusts.

Having control over his thrusts and the movement of your hips was nice and all, but he needed you closer.

Slapping your thigh, he croaked out, “On your back.”

You missed his girth the second he parted from you so you could change positions, it made you feel empty.

Damian helped you get comfortable, holding your thighs open before you got the urge to rub them. He smirked when you glared at him, hand leaving one of your legs to hold his cock.

He penetrated you again, bottoming out immediately as he made himself comfortable on top of you.

“Fuck, Damian!”

His hips snapped forward involuntarily. Both of you moaned at the same time, he pushed against your g-spot and you throbbed around him.

His movements were rougher like this, wilder. It was as though he wanted to prove a point to himself, you didn’t know which and you didn’t care as long as he fucked you like he needed to be inside you in order to be complete.

“Say my name again,” he rasped the command.

And how could you deny him? You repeated his name as many times as your moans allowed you like a broken chant.

Damian’s pace got quicker every time he heard his name fall from your lips, a tad uneven as he allowed himself to get lost in the pleasure the mix of everything was bringing him — your walls gripping his cock, your hoarse moans and the angelic way honey dripped from your voice when you called for him.

You dragged your nails all over his back, moaning and whimpering in his ear. He was so loud in your own ear, saying things in Arabic that you couldn’t understand in such a fervent tone that you weren’t sure if you would come because he was fucking you into oblivion or because of his strained voice.

Hearing your name slip in his prayer-like monologue, you cried out upon feeling your stomach get tighter. You clung to his shoulders, letting him ram into you in unsteady thrusts that went from slow to hammering in seconds.

His tongue slipped, Damian started switching between languages. Grip on you tightening to the point of being bruising, he begged, “I need you to come first, please. I— shit.” He dropped his head into the crook of your neck as you wrapped your legs around his hips, clenching around him.

You threw your head back, arching up to meet his latest thrust as your orgasm flew through you. Distantly, you processed a few of the sounds you were making and some of the ones you were elating from him.

Strings of hot cum covered your walls. He growled on your skin, saying your name and something you couldn’t really understand.

You let him ride off his orgasm inside you, hearing the mess he was making as the wet sounds from your slick and his cum mingled. His mouth covered yours in a tired kiss, lazy and with a hint of the tenderness he had put to the side even though his intentions had been different.

Once the two of you had caught your breaths and he had made an even bigger mess, you pulled the bedding off the mattress and threw everything into the washing machine.

He was all over you as the two of you shared a shower, so close that scrubbing off took you way longer than it should have.

In all honesty, you didn’t mind. You were too happy to complain about his annoying little antics that you couldn’t wait to get used to.

”Should we suit up?” You asked him, watching the water drip down his chest like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“They can manage without us for a night.”

“You want to skip patrol?”

Drying his arms, he copied your tone, “You don’t want to spend more time alone with me?”

“Of course I do,” you replied immediately. “But you love patrol.”

He stood still, somewhat stiff in front of you. “Not enough, it seems.”

You dropped the topic at that and went on with drying your body.

He only put his underwear back on while you slipped a pair of panties and a t-shirt, awkwardly trying to find something to change the topic.

“Do you want some ice cream? I have a tub in the freezer.”

“Sounds good.”

A nice moment you shared, silently eating ice cream. He sat close to you the entire time, brushing your side.

It felt natural, as though you were supposed to be doing that and not anything else. Patrol could wait, and his family, and your friends, and the entire world.

The world stopped so you two could enjoy the moment, the day. Or perhaps it didn’t and you just couldn’t bring yourself to give this up for it — but he couldn’t either and that meant everything to you.

Damian never skipped patrol, he hadn’t done it in the worst moments of his life and you never expected to see the day in which he would find something more worthwhile.

You found a clean sheet for the bed in the laundry room which saved you from having to squeeze yourself with Damian on the couch. Maybe it was time to get a bigger one.

He rested his head on your stomach, cheek against your belly as he looked up at you. You could tell he wanted to say something, his brow was ever so slightly furrowed, and his eyes seemed clouded by a thought. He looked pretty nonetheless.

He traced his fingers over your thigh, drawing little doodles. You could make some up by feel — a flower, a bat, his name, a few stars, his name again, an R inside a circle, a heart, his name for the third time.

“I think I would’ve broken my oath to my father if you had had someone over.”

You slid your hand off his hair to caress his cheek, too worried to hide your frown. Damian took his promises and oaths seriously, more seriously than anything else. You had seen his family use said thing against him.

“It wouldn’t have been worth it,” you tried to reason with him. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“Would you have gotten mad at me?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “It would’ve depended on a lot of things. Without context, obviously, but...” Realizing you were about to make up excuses for something that hadn’t even happened, you decided to ask, “Why are you still thinking about that?”

“I don’t want you to forget about me. Ever.”

“Are you planning to say goodbye or something of sorts?”

“No!” He glared at you for even considering such a thing to be a possibility after everything the two of you had talked about, after everything you had made him feel. ”But I...” Damian scoffed. “I can’t explain to you how horrible it felt. My eyesight clouded the moment Stephanie said it was time for you to start seeing someone.”

“Jealousy does that to us.” You tried to sound wise by saying it, an attempt you found quite pointless as you replayed it in your head.

Silently, he lifted his head off your stomach in order to lay down next to you. Shifting so he would be comfortable, you held your head up with your hand to properly gaze at him.

Damian mirrored your position. He told you, in a hushed tone like it was his deepest secret, “I felt like you were replacing me.”

Stephanie only had said that because it was the truth. Your relationships always fizzled out after the first two months so you had stopped trying. Then there was the fact that Damian himself had sabotaged who knows how many of them...

From her perspective, it made sense.

“Damian...” you trailed off, in vain. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Tell me you won’t.”

“I won’t replace you as long as you don’t replace me.”

You thought he would find the comment insulting even though it was perfectly sound. But for God knows which time that day, Damian surprised you by scoffing with nonchalance.

Dismissing your worry, he slid closer to you, resting his forehead against your flexed arm. “I couldn’t possibly be happy without your perfume all over me.”

Grabbing him by the hair, you forced him to lift his head. His eyes found yours in a second, curious. You dropped your hand to his neck, sliding it up to his cheek.

Giving him the sweetest kiss you had ever given, tracing the side of his gorgeous face tenderly, you hoped you were doing a good job expressing what you wanted to communicate.

You were. He gave you in return the brightest smile you had seen in your entire existence. It was all for you, something you had caused, something you wanted to see for the rest of your life.

Damian pulled you onto his chest, laying on his back. He mindlessly ran his fingers over your side and up and down your back while you listened to his steady heartbeat.

You couldn’t possibly feel complete without him ever again.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x plus size reader #damian wayne smut #damian wayne

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rookiesbookies · 3 years

Text

Alright, I have Jason Todd headcanons

He has scars all over. The largest and most notables being: his Y shaped autopsy scar on his chest, the J on his left cheek, the one on his forehead that makes his white streak(birthmarks often make hair that grows out of them white, so Im assuming scars are the same. This scar is from the crowbar when Joker killed him)

Jason is 18 kinds of nervous about showing his scars, he’s a big dude who comes off really scary and the scars don’t help. He’s constantly scared his seen as a monster

Fear quickly turns to angry and violence with him. If he is scared his fight or flight is to fight, while he’d never hurt his S/O, in most situations this is the case

He has a lot of emotional issues, he is very easy to anger and has a lot of trust issues. He can come off as very defensive when he’s probably just scared

He is one of the best hand to hand fighters in the DC world, this is canon and its canon that he’d be way better of a hero if he didn’t let his emotions get to him. Due to all his training with so many people and societies he’s such am amazing fighter but he would need someone to be his rock so he could have some more stability in the field

This is why I believe he’d love a calm quiet S/O that really understood him, like someone who could just read him. Like he’d be uncomfortable around Bruce and his S/O would have a 6th sense to come and rescue him

Jason would be so patient with his S/O, or at least try to be. He’d be so different once he knew he could fully trust them and that they weren’t leaving or going to betray him.

I feel like he’d have also a really funny S/O, like someone who could be dangling over a vat of acid and make a joke about how they’ve always wondered how things felt when they were dissolved with acid

He is so touch starved, he has to be touching his S/O if he’s around them

He does not do PDA though, he could not put his S/O in danger so he limits himself to just resting his arm around them in public

Jason has numb pockets all over his body from damaged nerves. He just can not feel touch in some places so he’d need an S/O that the conscious of those places

He loves his S/O’s touch but at first the idea of being touched was not it for him. The thought made him sick and they’d have to help his mind understand that not every time someone touches him his a strike or that they’re going to try and hit him.

At first he’d flinch away from touch, too much soft touches from his S/O would make him feel sick and he’d need a break. Even if it was just to crawl back for more later

On the subject of touch and scars, he’d need an S/O that could go through and help him learn to love himself. He lives under the idea that he’s a monster and ugly and that no one could ever love him for long, an S/O would need to break down that idea and show him they love every scar or imperfection

It would take him so long to show them his scars or even show his chest or back, he’d have to have so much trust in them

Jason loves reading and music, so the idea of him sitting on a couch reading with his S/O while he has one bluetooth earbud and they have the other just makes my heart warm

Please get him little gifts, he believes they’re stupid and that he doesn’t need them but even something like a bracelet you made him out of a bracelet making kit would make him so happy. He would never dare to take if off unless it could get broken or messed up

His S/O would need to be so patient, he feels like he’s broken and someone calm, funny in the right times, serious when they need to be, smart, patient, and unafraid of him and his life style is what he needs

If he truly loves an S/O, he’d try to change everything about himself to what they want. But please don’t let him do that, he needs to be Jason and not whatever he thinks you want which is going to be hard against his “adapt to survive” he picked up as a kid and with Bruce, because he would see his S/O as something he needs to survive

Jason doesn’t age normally because of the pit. He probably wouldn’t realize it for a while but he ages slower than normal, like he looks 19 when he’s still 26 and he wouldn’t notice it until he compared pictures.

He would need a rock, he feels like he has no control over his life or himself and he’d need an S/O that could handle it

Due to his terrible roller coaster of a life, he has tons of nightmares that seem to never end. Whether it’s Joker, Bruce, the Pit, or whatever he would need an S/O that would wake up to comfort him or to just be there. He would almost never openly talk about it so just them letting him hold them would be enough. They would be his rock, so someone who could comfort him and remind him that, no matter what he wakes up from, they aren’t leaving or going to hurt him is enough to help him through it.

He would not let his S/O be a vigilante. He wouldn’t, he could not do that to himself and could not let himself love someone or be in a relationship with a vigilante. He has so many fears and so many issues he could not, it’s like his worst nightmare that his S/O is a vigilante and gets killed by the Joker like him.

Now he would teach his S/O to defend themself out of fear that one day he may not be able to save them

Jason is not a light character and would not be an easy relationship but someone who could stick it out would be what he needs

I hope you enjoyed some of my Jason and Jason with an S/O head canons

Please just find someone to love him, he deserves so much more than what he’s given in the comics.

Edit: Yall found this quick! My ask box is open if yall want more of these for him or other batfam. You can also request imagines and oneshots, I might turn out a few soon.

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader #red hood #jason todd wayne #jason peter todd #jason todd headcanon

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mischiefandspirits · 3 years

Text

Bernard Figures It Out

Was reading through all the comments on @frostbittenbucky's post and all I could think of was that it was Bernard talking to Tim. Then I got to thinking...

"I've connected the two dots."

"You didn't connect shit."

"I've connected them."

Bernard figures out Tim's a superhero... sort of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim fidgetted nervously as he waited on the front porch of his boyfriend’s house. Bernard had sounded so serious when he’d called during Tim’s lunch to ask him to come over after work so they could talk about something.

Which Tim had done, after spending an entire board meeting just going over the past week trying to figure out what he’d done.

The only thing he could think of was that he’d ducked out halfway through their lunch date on Wednesday to give Duke some backup, but Bernard had seemed understanding when Tim explained there was an emergency at GRC Labs. It couldn’t have been a tipping point, either, since Tim had managed to only flake on three other dates over the past few months they’d been dating. Kate had been happy to cover for him as often as she could “out of queer solidarity” when she found out Tim was dating a boy for the first time and Tim had managed to trick Bruce into covering a few actual Wayne Enterprises emergencies for him when they came up.

There had to be a reason Bernard was breaking up with him, though. Had he missed something? He definitely wasn’t forgetting an important day. He was good with days and Tam was even better, so she would have reminded him on the off chance that he had forgotten.

What was he missing?

Bernard was smiling when he opened the door, but there was a nervous energy to it that had Tim’s stomach sinking. “Hey, Tim.”

“Hey.” Tim gave his own nervous smile then slipped inside.

They went into the living room and sat down on the couch.

Tim frowned when Bernard grabbed a manila folder off the coffee table. Crud, had he screwed up enough that Bernard had had to make a list? He knew he was new to dating a guy, but he hadn’t thought he’d done that bad. He’d really been trying, especially with how his and Stephanie’s relationship had fallen apart at the end. “What -”

“Just let me speak, Tim,” Bernard said, waiting for Tim’s nod. “Okay, so you know Clark Kent, right?”

Tim blinked as Bernard opened the folder to show a picture of Clark. It looked like one of the employee pictures from the Planet’s website, with his dorky “I’m just a humble country boy” smile and the golden globe from their roof photoshopped in as the background. “Uh, yeah? I think so. He works for the Daily Planet, right? I think he’s worked at a few of Bruce’s events. Not a lot of outside reporters are willing to come to Gotham.”

“Exactly!” Bernard said, snapping his fingers and pointing at Tim.

“What?”

He pulled out the picture to show the next page was an article titled, “DAILY PLANET REPORTER… BATMAN!?”

A wave of relief washed over Tim and he placed his face in his hands. “Were you up all night on the hero conspiracy boards again?”

“No. I mean, I found this on a board and was up all night thinking about it, but I found it reasonably early.”

“One in the morning isn’t reasonable, Bernard.”

“Says the guy who’s always wide awake when I call to infodump.”

“Touché.” Tim leaned against Bernard and gave him a smile. “So tell me, why is some reporter from Metropolis from all places Batman.”

“First of all, living in Metropolis is the perfect cover. Everyone assumes Batman would live in Gotham, no one would consider he could be from anywhere else. Metropolis is outside the GMA, but close enough that the commute is still possible.”

“But it’s Metropolis.”

“And who would think Gotham’s Dark Knight lives in the sunshine capital? Plus, I hear he disappears a lot on the job. There’s gotta be a reason for it!”

Tim made a note to let Clark know he needs to cut back on the disappearing act some since people are catching on.

“And have you seen the guy? He is swol AF, babe.”

“Please don’t call me babe while you’re talking about how hot another guy is.” Especially Tim’s honorary uncle.

“You know I prefer twinks.”

“BERNARD!”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, ignoring Tim’s shout. “The guy is definitely hiding something! Besides, Kent is an investigative reporter. He’s gotta know a lot about cases and the underground and detective work.”

Not as much as he likes people to think, but more than he likes people to know Superman does, Tim mused. “But what about the other vigilantes?”

“Well, Kent has a cousin…” Bernard flipped through a folder and pulled out a picture of Kara. It looked like a screenshot of her interviewing Lena for CatCo. “She’s obviously the latest Batgirl. Look at her hair. And the first Batgirl and the current Batwoman were obviously Lois Lane, the red hair is just a wig. Did you see how she kicked butt at that last event she went to? She’s not as subtle as Kent. That means their son is the latest Robin. He’s exactly the right size.”

Oh, Damian better not hear about this, Tim cackled internally. His youngest brother hated being reminded that Jon was the same height as him despite their two years age difference. Damian definitely took after Talia when it came to body type, no matter what he said.

“And Kent also has a brother.” This time he pulled out a picture of Kon. The clone must have been caught by a reporter out shopping with Ma since he was carrying some paper bags and glaring at whoever was behind the camera. “At least, he’s supposedly Kent’s brother, but he was a teenager when he first showed up with the Kents. A lot of people think he’s actually Kent’s son, that Kent got a girl pregnant when they were teenagers and something happened to the mom so Kent had to take him in. Now the Kents are trying to hide it by saying the two are brothers.”

That was… scarily accurate actually. Especially given Luthor and Clark were close friends at the time that Kon would have theoretically been born.

“And that beef would explain why the younger Kent brother went all crime lord on Gotham for a while before reconnecting with the family.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, Kent Jr.’s got the perfect build for Red Hood.”

Tim bit back a comment on how Kon was shorter than Jason by a good foot. Timothy Drake-Wayne should not know that. Add Jason to the list of people who can’t hear this theory.

“And then there’s this girl,” Bernard picked up a picture of Lois, Jon, and Natasha Irons walking down the street together. “No one’s sure exactly who she is, but she’s been spotted with the Kents a few times. I think the cover story is that she’s Jon’s babysitter.”

“And the actual story?”

“She’s Black Bat, obviously. That’s why she wears a mask that fully covers her face. She doesn’t want to stand out as the only African American Bat.”

“Isn’t Signal also Black?”

“Yeah, but he works in the daytime so he’s already a standout.”

“And who is Signal in this? And what about Nightwing and Red Robin?”

“Well, Nightwing’s just a Blüd who came to Gotham. He doesn’t count.”

Ouch. Sorry, Dick.

“And Red Robin is obviously an older Robin, the one who was Robin when we were kids. Kent wanted to keep him on, and I don’t blame him. As for Signal, he’s got the same backstory as all the other Robins Kent picked up, he just went the Signal route because he didn’t fit the usual Robin mold.”

“Because the female Robin fit the mold,” Tim snorted. Robin Mold, as if he and his brothers were even the same ethnicity. Or even had the same hair color. Jason dyes his hair, Dick’s is brown-black, Tim’s is pure black, and Damian’s is more a dark brown and it’s only getting lighter as he gets older.

“She didn’t, that’s the point. Kent tried to give breaking the Robin mold a chance by letting his cousin have a go at it, but he realized it just didn’t work so she went back to being Spoiler and he got a new Robin.”

Not touching that with a ten-foot pole. “Right, and where does he get the usual Robins? Please tell me you’re not back on the secret government orphanages theory.”

“No, no, no. Kent travels sometimes for his job, right? And a lot of the time he’s going to places that have been hit by disasters or major crimes. So he’ll take in some of the displaced children to train as his robins.”

Tim pressed his face back into his hands.

“You see it, right?”

Honestly, Tim was just wondering how his boyfriend could be so close, and yet so far off. “How would Kent even afford taking care of a bunch of secret -- possibly illegally acquired -- children without anyone noticing?”

“Simple. Bruce Wayne is funding him.”

“Bernard, I love you, but what the heck?” Tim blushed and looked up as he realized what he’d said, but Bernard didn’t seem to notice as he steamrolled ahead.

“It’d also explain how he can afford all the gear and how he’d be able to travel to Gotham or anywhere else Batman goes without anyone noticing. He probably has a secret Batplane or something.”

“Why would Bruce do that?”

“Because Wayne cares about Gotham, everyone knows that, and this way he can make sure someone’s taking care of the city without anyone putting two and two together.”

“And two plus two is?”

Bernard gave him a hard look. “I’m not stupid, Tim. Bruce Wayne is obviously Superman. His face is right there.”

Oh, the others are going to love this! Too bad I can’t tell Damian or Jason. Jason especially would have loved this. “Right. Bruce is Superman.”

“He is. Superman is known for being nice and Bruce Wayne’s basically all that’s keeping the city running at this point. That’s nice as hell.”

Oh my god.

“And Wayne does charity for the victims of cataclysms, doesn't he? I bet he first saves people from them as Superman and then builds them new homes for free.”

Oh my god! Why am I not recording this!?

“And the Wayne’s were rich enough to hide the fact they adopted an alien baby.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “If you’re about to tell me this is why Bruce’s parents got killed, you might want to stop while you’re ahead.”

“It’d make sense. There’re all sorts of unanswered questions about their deaths,” Bernard muttered under his breath, flipping through the folder. He pulled out another picture of Kara. This time she was in full Supergirl attire with a bus held overhead. “So if Wayne is Superman, then that’d mean your ex-girlfriend could be Supergirl. They look a lot alike and it’d explain how she got involved with you all.”

“Bernard, she has a human dad. You know, Cluemaster. The supervillain.”

“Yeah, her dad. But we don’t know anything about her mom!”

“Let me guess…”

Bernard pulled out a picture of Karen. She and Helena were suited up and talking to a group of cops, two goons held over each of Karen’s shoulders. “Her mom could be Power Girl! Some makeup and a wig and she could look just like Crystal Brown! And Damian Wayne is obviously the new Superboy! That’s why his background is such a mystery, right? He had to stay a secret until he could control his alien superpowers. That’s why he’s always so mean. It’s a cover since everyone knows Superboy is super sweet!”

Sure, when he’s not helping Damian pull pranks or using his adorable powers to put the blame on Kon and I. “No, Bernard. Damian and Steph are just very human hellspawn. And Bruce and Crystal are human too. I can’t believe you called me over here just to tell me you think Superman is both Batman’s sugar daddy and my adoptive dad.”

“Well, that’s not exactly why I called you over,” Bernard admitted, the nervous energy coming back. He grabbed Tim’s hands. “Tim -”

Tim’s stomach sank. “You are breaking up with me!”

“What? No! I don’t want to break up!”

“Why are you acting all nervous and serious then!?” Tim asked, pulling his hands away to throw them up in the air.

Bernard shook the folder. “Because I’m trying to tell you I figured out you’re Superboy!”

Tim’s brain blue-screened and his hands slowly dropped. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I know you’re Superboy. The older one, obviously. By the way, you and Damian really need to figure out separate names.”

Forget Jason and Damian, Kon can never find out about this. He’d never let me live it down. “Bernard, you called me a twink five minutes ago. Su-” Shoot, I can not risk getting Kon’s attention! “The older one might not be as big as Superman, but he’s not a twink.”

“Well, yeah, that’s the shapeshifting at work.”

“The what?”

“Obviously you Kryptonians can shapeshift. Why else would you look so much like humans?”

… Why do Kryptonians look so much like humans? Was there some - Wait, no! Break into the Fortress of Solitude for research later! Reassure your boyfriend that you’re not an alien now! “Bernard -”

“And that explains why your step-mom was so hot.”

“Gross.”

“She and your dad were actors hired by Luthor so you could have a normal life! But now Bruce has custody so he adopted you.”

“No.”

“That’s why you and your dad were so weird with each other when I met him.”

“We were weird because he’d just gotten out of a coma not long before to find that his wife was dead so he decided to actually be a dad for once in his life, but overcompensated and became a helicopter parent to a kid who was mostly on his own for his entire life!” Tim blurted out. “I am not an alien, Bernard!”

“Well, not technically since you were cloned from Superman on Earth.”

“Oh my god! You were just talking about Steph being Supergirl! Why would I date my dad’s cousin?”

Bernard blinked. “Supergirl and Superman are cousins?”

Right, Timothy Drake-Wayne wasn’t supposed to know that. “I thought they’d said something like that before, yeah. Are people seriously saying I’m Superboy on the internet?”

“NO! No, I swear I would have led with that if I thought your identity was compromised. A few people have mentioned Wayne and Damian, but not you or Steph or Jason.”

“Wh-Jason!? You think Jason was an alien too!”

“No, not exactly, but a few times when I’ve visited I swear I’ve seen a guy in the manor who looks like Jason. It’s just been out of the corner of my eye and he’s gone whenever I look so I’ve always thought it was just Dick or Bruce or some picture of Jason that my mind was playing tricks with, but it makes sense now that I know Wayne is Superman. He must have been able to heal Jason with alien tech, but couldn’t say anything because that would give away that he’s Superman.”

Damn it Jason! And damn it Bernard! I’m dating the smartest moron in the world! “Bruce did not bring Jason back with alien technology and none of us are aliens!”

“It’s okay, Tim. I won’t tell anyone.”

Tim grabbed Bernard by the jacket and pulled him into a kiss. When he started to feel lightheaded, he pulled back, “Could someone whose skin is as solid as stone kiss like that?”

Bernard blinked dazedly at him for a moment. “How do you know what Superboy’s skin feels like?”

Tim screamed internally. “He’s saved me from a kidnapping before.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I can get you the police report if you want.”

“Huh… And the others?”

“Not Supers. I can stab Damian the next time we’re at the manor if that’ll prove none of us are aliens.” He’d rather stab Jason, but that would probably only confirm to Bernard that Bruce used alien technology to bring him back.

“You probably shouldn’t stab your brother if he isn’t an alien.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I won’t stab him anywhere deadly.”

“That’s not the point,” Bernard said slowly.

“He’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

“So do you believe I’m not an alien now?” Tim huffed, letting go of Bernard’s jacket.

The blond’s eyes dipped down to Tim’s lips. “If I say no, will you kiss me like that again?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Tim said, but he kissed him anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay, but I still say Clark Kent is definitely Batman.”

“Sure, Bernard.”

#Tim Drake #robin #red robin #bernard dowd #timber #fanfiction

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