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queerbutstillhere · 4 years

Note

another damijon prompt if you’re still taking them: damian likes country because it reminds him of jon and jon thinks it’s cute and confessions ensue????

(So another prompt that ran away with me. This was actually inspired by a thing that actually happened to me. Unfortunately there was no confession/kiss at the end. But the boys get that! Thank you for sending in a prompt!)

"Suffering has been stronger than all other teaching, and has taught me to understand what your heart used to be. I have been bent and broken, but - I hope - into a better shape."

Damian looked over at Jon, sat in the passenger seat of the Jeep Damian had found in the back of the garage. His feet were up on the dash, wind whipping his hair around due to the open windows. The teen had a tight grip on his book to keep the pages from going wild.

"Great Expectations?" Damian asked, having not seen the title earlier.

"Yeah. English Lit."

Damian hummed, reaching to grab his cup and accidentally bumped Jon's arm.

"Oh, sorry," they both said at the same time, then exchanged a grin.

"Anyway, that quote just kinda reminded me of you."

"I can see why."

"Yeah."

Jon marked his place in the book, it was getting to dark to read anyway, and shoved it into his backpack, reaching forwards to adjust the radio.

They were going on an impromptu road trip. Nowhere far, it wasn't like they had the week off from school or something. No they'd probably be back Sunday afternoon, and seeing as it was Saturday evening currently... They were taking an impromptu roadtrip to the Middle Of Nowhere, New Jersey. Why? Because Damian wanted to star gaze, properly, and you couldn't do that in Gotham or Bludhaven or Metropolis. They had been doing this since Damian got his (official) license. Sometimes without warning, he'd just show up, pick Jon up, and start driving. The younger teen never complained, he was always content to spend time with Damian, whatever they were doing.

Jon flicked through radio stations until he found the one country station that they could pick up at the time. Damian huffed an annoyed sigh but didn't say anything, because he wasn't really that annoyed. For the most part when they did this, they just drove in silence, just the radio, and the open road. It gave both teens a chance to clear their heads, to get away from their families and their responsibilities. They would camp out at whatever location Damian had dug up for them this time, spending the night under the stars, and then head back the next morning.

"Damian, pull over, I wanna get a picture of the sunset."

Damian obliged, slowing the car and pulling over to the side of the highway. This was technically illegal, but he hadn't seen a house for miles, let along a cop, so he just did it. Jon pulled out his camera from his bag, flicking through the settings for a moment before leaning out his window and snapping some photos, looking at them, correcting his settings and taking more. Damian just leaned against the steering wheel and smiled faintly at his friend.

He'd never get over the excited look Jon got when they did things like this. Like a little puppy.

"Okay, come here."

Jon set down the professional camera that had cost an entire summers worth of work at a farm, and instead pulled out his phone, snapping a few pictures of the sunset with that and then handing it to Damian. They took a few obligatory selfies.

"Are we good to go?" Damian asked. He was in no rush, he would be content to watch Jon take pictures for hours.

"Yeah, I'm good."

An hour (and a stop for dinner) later they arrived at this week's location. It was this open grassy field, that almost looked like an old pasture. Damian just parked and then grabbed the sleeping bags from the back of the Jeep, Jon grabbed their snacks and the duffel bag full of blankets and pillows and what not, and they started walking. Just across the field, with no particular destination. They climbed a hill finally and set up their things on top.

"Here, you can play music," Damian said, passing Jon his unlocked phone. After all, he had unlimited data and Spotify premium, might as well use it.

Jon grinned at him and took it, using one hand to scroll. The other one found its way into Damian's, interlacing their fingers. Damian looked down at the hands with a small amount of shock. Not much, though. Kent was very physical, and this wasn't the first time he had done this.

"Damiiii," Jon said, shooting a mischievous smile as Damian.

His face was lit up by the phone screen, and it was mildly concerning, the look he was giving Damian.

"What?"

"You've been listening to an awful lot of country," Jon practically purred out, gently bumping Damian's shoulder.

"Oh. Yes. Well," he shrugged and looked away, grabbing a blanket and pulling it into his lap, trying to unfold it with just one hand.

"I thought you didn't like country music?" Jon asked, setting down his phone and grabbing a corner of the blanket, unfolding it and pulling half of it over his own lap.

Damian shrugged again.

"Have I finally converted you? I thought you said it was the "saddest excuse for a musical genre in existence and didn't hold a candle to the classics or even Indie pop". Those were your words, right?"

"It reminds me of you," Damian said. And then stiffened. He had actually said that outloud.

"Awwwww." Jon squeezed his hand. "Cute."

Soon soft music was floating over them, as they laid on their backs, looking up at the sky and watching stars slowly appear.

Been flyin' solo for so long

Nobody's singin' the harmony

Up there just me and my shadow

No bass, no guitar, no tambourine

Damian glanced over at Jon, and found him already looking over, not at the stars above them.

"What?" He breathed out.

It was chilly enough that they were both wrapped in blankets, arms pressed together, hands still clasped.

"I like listening to Indie pop because it reminds me of you," Jon confessed. "And I read poetry because I know you like poetry, and whenever i go to Art museums I can't help but think of everything you would like, which paintings would be your favorites. When I see dogs or cats, I want to take pictures of them because I know you would love to see them, even just a picture. I eat vegan when I go out, and I don't like mint chocolate chip ice cream because you don't like mint chocolate chip ice cream."

"Jon-"

"Whenever I hear certain songs, I think of you, and when I watch new shows or movies, I can't help but wish you were watching them with me. I think of you whenever I see green clothes, or tea, or cows - and I see cows a lot - and whenever I watch copshows, I can't help but think about how you would be criticizing every minute of it. I watch The Office because I know you like it, and I like watching that really dumb knight movie because it was the first time I heard you laugh at a movie, and I knew it was real."

Jon had pushed up onto his elbow now, looking at Damian with such an intense, passionate gaze.

"I do all these things because I want you in every aspect of my life, Damian. I want you to always be beside me, and yeah sure, I'm only sixteen and maybe I'm too young to be saying that, but I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I want to be with you."

Damian blinked. His breath was caught in his ribs, and his words had died in his throat. He didn't know what to say to all that.

They sat in silence for a moment, One Man Band by Old Dominion fading out, some old country Tim McGraw song started playing next.

"I-" Damian started, and then stopped. Where did he even start, really? He huffed, shoving Jon lightly. "Damn you, Kent. How am I supposed to top that?"

Jon gave a relieved sigh and then laughed, falling onto his back.

"I dunno, you got time, I suppose. I'll just sit here and make up constellations by myself until you figure it out."

Damian looked over, and he immediately knew. He pulled his hand from Jon's, shed his blanket and sat up, turning to Jon. The other teen looked over, but Damian didn't wait. He gently put a hand on Jon's neck, pushing his chin up slightly, then he leaned down, pressing their lips together lightly. Jon made a mildly surprised noise, before his hand snuck up and an arm circled around Damian's neck, holding him in place.

The kiss was like a perfect story book first kiss. Damian never wanted to pull away, just to stay in lip lock with Jon Kent until he died. It was gentle, and sweet and almost timid, both boys afraid of doing the wrong thing and scaring their crush away. Finally Damian pulled away first, gently pecking Jon's lips once more before sitting back, smiling at him like a love drunk fool.

"Does that suffice?"

"It does," Jon told him, grinning back.

The younger teen sat up, reaching out and gently grabbing Damian's jacket, pulling him in for another kiss.

"Man, I'm glad we went on this trip," the superboy murmured against Damian.

"Me too. Me too."

#writing prompt #prompt ask #give me prompts and shiz #ask prompt #my prompts #ask me #send me asks #thank you for the ask!#ask me anything #damijon #damianxjon #damian wayne #jon kent

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callmesteve · 4 years

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sneak peak at what i’m writing?

for real this time, sghlidugh.

so, that post i just posted? yeah, i started a rough draft. here’s the first half! (not really any dami yet, sorry folks :((. also, note: i’ve made jon and damian the same age, i think there’s an age gap normally, but this works better for me.)

do i continue it?

(fic below the cut)

Dick and Bruce go back in time to save Damian before he was killed. They end up in the wrong time. There’s so many ways it goes wrong.

Dick crosses through the portal to dusty air and ashes scattered amongst the ground. Buildings crumble around the torn up street. Markings all over the remains of Gotham tell Dick all he needs to know. Green and red spray paint curl heavenward in a sick imitation of Joker’s manic grin. When he hears Dick grunt, he whirls around, already gesturing to their belts. “We’ve hit the wrong time,” he says, voice carefully low. “I think we went forward, not back.”

It’s just like Bruce said, before they left. Time travel is a fickle thing. There’s no right way to do it with the resources they’re working with. Plus, it doesn’t really help that ever since Bruce’s whole incident with Frankenstien, Tim’s been hellbent on not helping their efforts to get Damian back.

God, Dick knew this wasn’t going to work. There had been too many variables in the beginning. Too many what if’s, too many maybe not’s.

He just had to agree to go with Bruce anyway, hadn’t he?

With a groan, he drops his head into the palms of his hands. Ever since Damian died, all Bruce could think of doing was bringing him back to life. He hadn’t been like this with Jason, but with the knowledge that Jason had managed to come back to life- Bruce took it and ran and somehow ended up coming across time travel. Their plan was simple. Go back to the fight that took Damian’s life far too early, stop Heretic before he was able to slide that sword through his little brother’s chest. They’d open themselves a new life where Damian lived and breathed and-

And Dick swallows a sob, fixing his domino mask to make sure it covers his teary eyes. He was just like Bruce, in the end. All Dick wanted was to wrap his arms around Damian one last time, to hold him close and breathe in that stupid strawberry shampoo Dick decided to buy him. Why wouldn’t he want to help Bruce with this? Dick and Bruce, although they both avoided the conversation, knew that Damian and Dick were closer than the title of brothers allowed. (Father and son fit better, Dick dares to think.)

“Should we stop by the Batcave in our time?” Bruce questions, as he fiddles with his wrist computer. While the actual portal-opening-thing-a-ma-jigs were attached to their belts, all the information they needed rested in their batcomputer’s archives, for Alfred to monitor over. “Or should we just skip to the next time we have queued up?”

Home rests on the tip of Dick’s tongue. They’ve only just started this time travel task, and Dick already feels weighed down by his grief. He’s still mourning, naturally. At this rate, he knows he’ll end up compromised by the time they make it to the time they’re shooting to find. All he wants to do, (besides save Damian and hold him again), is to go home to the manor, make tea, and cry as Mean Girls plays in the backgr-

“You’re not Batman,” someone scoffs, voice laced with a pout. They sound offended, almost, and- And Dick knows that voice. It’s older, sure, but- “It’s rude to pretend to be a dead man- and to dress up as someone who’s still around. I think. Technically. Okay, okay- Didn’t your mom’s ever teach you not to play pretend as dead men, guys?”

Dick’s eyes shoot up, to a familiar little getup. The red cape, cropped so it doesn’t pass the knees, the ripped jeans still baby blue, the same old Superman t-shirt, long since faded. Beat up converse, double knotted on his feet. He’s a few years older and a whole lot taller than when Dick last saw him, but it’s all the same.

Jonathan Kent stands before Dick and Bruce, hands folded across his chest.

Dick still remembers the days that Jon and Damian raced around the manor, (and the penthouse, while Bruce had disappeared). Years ago, Clark had decided it’d be a good idea to get the two to be friends, given the fact they were around the same age. It’s just a shame that they never got the chance to grow up as complete heroes together. Him and Damian had been close- really close. Their time’s Jon was still torn up about Damian’s death.

This Jon blinks as he takes in Dick and Bruce, before tutting an all too familiar tut. “I’m gonna have to bring you guys in to the base. No running away.” He purses his lips, regarding Bruce closer for a moment. “B-boy doesn’t like it when people do that. It always attracts the Joker’s attention, and we don’t need that.”

Dick looks back to Bruce, and they both share a nod. No confrontation until Heretic- not unless it’s totally needed. That was their agreement. Besides, from Jon’s reaction of them, this time’s Nightwing and Bruce-Batman are obviously dead. It’s a dull thought, considering that Jon’s only a few years older. Dick can admit that he’s at least curious about who dawns the cowl now, though. Dick had done it last time- Jason probably refused to this time, too. Especially with Joker leading this whole thing.

Tim, then? He’ll be the smartest Batman there ever were, that’s for sure. It’s just a shame he had to do it so young.

A pit forms in Dick’s gut. If Bruce, Dick and Damian are dead, there’s a big chance that all Tim really has left is Alfred. (God, Dick hopes Alfred’s still alive.)

“We’ll go,” Dick says, raising his hands in the air. “You’ve just got a misunderstanding about us, is all. We’ll clear it up and explain it to- uh- B-boy?”

B-boy could mean Beast Boy, really, but Dick’s pretty sure it’s just Batman. He’s confirmed as correct when Jon amends with, “Batman. He’s so uptight and serious now-a-days. We like to make fun of him- All friendly teasing, y’know- But- You probably shouldn’t- He’ll feed you to Ivy’s plants the next time she decides it’s time to swarm the city.” He winced at his own words, the nod to Ivy sending the conversation and joking cold.

Dick has a feeling the new Batman might just be Jason. Prickly and serious could fit with Tim, but- Hey. Who knows. Grief and mourning do things to people that you can’t always explain. Time travel included.

Jon leads them by the wrists after slapping cuffs on their wrists. They’re the plastic kind you can buy in toy stores for your kids to play with, but they’ve been modified and bulked up with metal, steel and tech. The locks have been changed from a key to a fingerprint scanner. When Jon’s fingers brush over it, the little screen beeps red. He clearly can’t unlock it. (The Bruce-influenced part of his mind thinks that it’s good- if he needs to, he can put a pair on Jon and not need to worry about him getting out. They seem pretty solid. Though, there’s always the chance that he could break out, Super-something’s always seem to surprise him.)

“These are pretty high tech,” Dick remarks, more for the sake of something to say and to focus on, than to learn about the cuffs. Not that it’s not cool, or important to hear about. “How’d you guys make them?”

“I’m not as dumb as I look,” Jon scowls. “I won’t hand away free information just because you think I’m stupid and easy to trick.”

It’s a completely valid concern. Dick gets to work shooting it down. “We’ve been compliant! If I wanted to cause trouble, I would’ve already. As soon as we get to Batman, we’ll explain that this whole thing was a mistake and that he doesn’t have to worry about us! Or- Me, at least.” He gestures to Bruce. “He’s pretty shifty. We’ll be fine.”

Surprisingly enough, Jon gives. “B made them,” he half-beams. Tim then. “Only his fingerprint is recognised. Way too many times have we had traitors in our midst that free our prisoners, or just plain old teammates who are super gullible. He was gonna let me be one of the only other people, besides- uh- someone else. But.” He adopts a sheepish grin. “Stuff happened, I guess. It was really bad. I trust his judgement, though!”

“If he’s good, then all power to you,” Dick grins back.

Bruce hunches his shoulders. “What the hell happened to Gotham?” he asks, and Dick winces at his wrecked tone. It’s their city, to be reduced to ash in a few years time. There’s no point in asking the year instead, anyhow. Jon’s no older than sixteen now, no younger than twelve or thirteen. They can take a pretty good guess. “We were just here-” Bruce pauses, piling on an alibi fast. “-a few years ago.”

Nice save, B.

“B always says a lot can happen in a few years! You’d be surprised. And- Everyone’s heard of the old Batman’s loss at the hands of the Joker and his Arkham crew. He didn’t die in the battle- He came close. Present day Batman took up the cowl while the villains reaped their spoils of war. Old Batman died pretty soon after that. Health complications, I think?” Jon hums. “I thought you might’ve been posing as the old Batman. I guess I was wrong then, since you didn’t know?”

“I’m not posing as anyone,” Bruce grinds out. Dick chokes back a laugh, which goes sour as soon as he grumbles, “Fuckin’ Joker.”

Dick steps over a stray piece of rubble on nimble feet. “See?” he whispers to Bruce. “You should’ve let Lil’ D beat up Joker when he had him in that damn room.” He scowls low, matching Bruce to a near perfect T. The Joker has messed with their lives way too much, at this point.

Jon stiffens.

Shit.

The Supers have super hearing, and Damian’s still probably a sore spot for everyone.

Just before Dick can question about Nightwing’s death, on rolls to a stop. “Close your eyes,” he says, tacking on a sorry soon after. Dick obliges. He hopes Bruce does too. Jon drops their hands, but reaches back a moment later. Something rolls open. He doesn’t tell them to open their eyes, so Dick keeps them close. Jon leads them forward, and immediately, Dick recognises the smell of the place they're in. Musty, damp. The Batcave. They’re using the cave as their base of operations?

Of course they would.

“Hey, B-boy!” Jon yells, before saying, “you can open your eyes.”

Dick does, expecting the same old vave. What he gets is something nearly three times larger. There’s more space in the center, lined with more vehicles that Dick cares to count. They’ve all got a reoccuring theme- Beat up, covered in spikes and neon green spray paint. Undercover vehicles, no doubt. The Batcomputer ahead has grown a few sizes, monitoring different sectors of Gotham and others displaying some of Arkham’s more dangerous ex-patients. Bane’s profile is marked with a deep red stamp, right over top his picture, that reads off deceased.

The glass cases hosting the Bat-clan’s fallen uniforms has been moved, now showing Bruce’s old cowl, Dick’s Nightwing uniform, and so many others he can’t name. One’s nothing more than a brown one piece with orange stripes on the side, gloves and a mask. Towards the end is Damian’s old Robin outfit, shoved over there like it doesn’t even matter. It should be in the dead center with the rest of the Batfamily’s fallen members, Dick thinks, and makes a note to yell at Tim/Jason/Batman for it. Family should stick together, even if it’s only their old legacies that stay by each other's sides.

The other platforms scattered around the cave’s walls are hard to see. There’s more than there used to be, all covered with discarded training weapons and dummies, with cots for sleeping. What an upgrade.

“B-boy!” Jon tries, cupping his hands around his mouth “I know you’re here! We’ve got prisoners!”

The voice that responds is low, older, but not overly so. It can’t be Tim or Jason- then who? “Then send them to the cells,” this Batman says. “Why on Earth do I-”

Oh, Dick knows the exact moment that Batman sees the two of them. Is it really that big of a crime to dress up as Nightwing or Batman around here? Jeez.

“Take off those damn masks,” Batman hisses, dropping from his perch atop one of the lower platforms. He’s- He’s tiny. Smaller than Jon by nearly a whole foot! “How dare you tarnish the fallen’s legacies like this! Did the Joker put you up to this? Harley? Catwoman’s not normally this cruel.”

“We can explain,” Dick defends. Bruce gives him a grunt and that’s all the conformation that Dick needs. He tears off his mask. Bruce pulls down his cowl.

Jon recognises them immediately, taking half a step back. “Mr. Wayne?” he says, soft. “And- And Dick-? They weren’t- You two weren’t imposters-? How did you survive? We saw both of you die-”

Bruce steps up, holding out his cuffs to Batman. “We’re not your Batman and Robin,” he explains. “Not yet. We’ve come from the past. A miscalculation while trying to travel through time brought us here.” He waves his wrists. “Now, Batman. If you’d be so kind as to let us know who decided to carry on the cowl? You aren’t Tim or Jason.”

“B-” Jon whispers, and it sounds wrong. “You should-”

“I know,” Batman interrupts. He reaches out, pulling off his glove, and unlocks Bruce’s cuffs. He does the same for Dick, with shaking hands. Then, his hand snakes up to his mask.

“You don’t have to,” Jon reminds.

“I know.”

Batman pulls off his cowl. Glassy green eyes- for the first time in near months- peer right back at Dick.

#potato writes #damian wayne #dick grayson #jon kent #bruce wayne #dcu fic #fanfic #this is a reblog blog tf am i doing #AW YEAH HERE I GO AGAIN #sadghlaslgh read it and weep it #i'll maybe post it on archive?? chapter one out of something #yeah

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lawful-evil-novelist · 7 years

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So a Few Rogue Kids and Their Family/Home Life

Since @freckledandspectacled asked and I figured I might as well, I’m gonna do a short explanation of...basically what home life is like for some of the Rogue kids. This is essentially a summary of how a few the rogues do parenting in this verse so, as a disclaimer: the operative words are “this verse”. I’m glad you think some rogues would be better parents than I do, but that, very frankly, is not something you need to harp on me about.

As a further note, certain homes will not be listed because there’s not much for me to say, but keep in mind there are some trigger warnings to keep in mind because these are children of Gotham Rogues.

Tobias Bloom

Tobi is adopted, Mr. Bloom wanted a child but figured it would be a lot better to adopt than to have his own. When he was giving that thought, he actually asked to see children with a lower chance of being adopted. Tobi was small, at the time sickly, already three, and a metahuman, foster care did not think it was likely that Tobi would be adopted anytime soon and he’d eventually just age out of the system. Mr. Bloom took one look at Tobi and immediately knew he wanted to take care of him.

Bloom is a decent father. By the time he adopted Tobi he’d quit any overt criminal activity, but works as a partner for LexCorp, meaning he’s frequently busy. To top things off he’s rather scatter-brained and will often forget small things. Tobi, as a result, tends to be the one who remembers important things, and their apartment is covered in sticky notes so if Bloom remembers something, he can write it down on a sticky note and put it on the fridge. Their house is relatively clean and organized because if it isn’t, Bloom can’t find anything. It also has a lot of houseplants, Tobi likes his houseplants.

Dorothy and Pluto Crane

Dorothy and Pluto are generally occupying two worlds. Being Diana’s children, they are technically royalty of Themiscyra and Diana is still part of the Justice League. Dorothy is the same age as Damien Wayne and Pluto is between Damien and Jon Kent in age. They’ve grown up with those two about the same amount that they’ve grown up with Rogue kids.

As for Jon and Diana, they’re...good parents. Jon is still a human trainwreck but he’s a lot better at making sure his kids get food and are taken care of than making sure he’s fed and healthy. He also tends to forget to watch his language around the kids when they’re younger. Diana is significantly better at balancing self-care and childcare, but still has some minor trouble with raising children because there weren’t any other children on Themiscyra. The entire family spends at least a month every summer in Themiscyra, if not longer, and while there Jon and Diana get help from the rest of the Amazons.

Dorothy is painfully aware of the kind of space she occupies between hero’s daughter and rogue kid. She has been told by Damien that she is not one of the rogue kids, and while the rogue kids don’t feel the same way, there is a lingering insecurity in her that she doesn’t belong.

Pluto doesn’t feel this alienation, but instead feels alienated by the other Amazons. Save for his father he is the only man considered part of Amazon society, and even then, Jon is still considered an outsider, Pluto is supposed to be at least half Amazon, but he doesn’t feel like he belongs, he feels like an outsider, and doesn’t like that feeling.

Ezekiel Dent

Here is where we get into very uncomfortable territory. I do not know who Zeke’s mom is, but she is no longer in the picture. Harvey is raising Zeke alone, which understandably has some problems. Not that Harvey himself is an awful parent, he can be rather harsh with Zeke sometimes because he’s scared Zeke will turn out like him, but he does genuinely care about Zeke.

The problem is Harvey’s alter, who I’ll call Harv to distinguish. Harv, needless to say, is fucking awful and should not be allowed near a child. Harvey can’t control when Harv surfaces, so Zeke is constantly walking on eggshells around his dad, hoping he doesn’t switch while he’s still in the house/room/general area. Harv beats Zeke regularly for minor slip ups, accidents, or just because. Zeke regularly skips meals out of stress and is extremely thin and nervous as a result. Harvey blames himself for Zeke’s poor mental and physical health, and is horrified if he sees bruises on Zeke after he dissociates (which can sometimes make him dissociate again it depends). He doesn’t want to part with Zeke because he doesn’t want to lose the only family he has left, but at the same time regularly considers giving him up to either foster care or asking Bruce to take him just so his son isn’t in danger.

Evangeline Fries

Eva lives with Nora and her second husband, not Victor, but Victor is aware of her existence and has visitation rights. He’s allowed to see her even if he doesn’t have custody. Nora loves her daughter with all her heart but her second husband is a little wary of her, both because of her powers and because he knows she’s Victor’s daughter. Given the chance he probably would kick Eva out but Nora would never allow it and he’d have to contend with Victor if she would.

Eva is aware of her stepfather’s wariness and dislike, but makes the most of her life with Nora. Nora herself is a great mom because come on it’s Nora, and Victor is...loving but distant. He basically only sees her every once in a while. It’s his choice but y’know, still.

Hunter and Ayah Jones

Hunter and Ayah were raised by their father, Waylon, their mother died soon after Ayah was born. Hunter and Ayah also have the same condition as Waylon, but to a lesser degree. They have the reptilian eyes, the sharp teeth, but instead of full-body scales, Hunter and Ayah have slight scale growths on their bodies that didn’t show up until puberty. Waylon feels extremely guilty about this and is very protective of his kids, perhaps a little overprotective.

Ayah and Hunter live in an apartment that Waylon pays rent for so they don’t have to live in the sewers, but he is still living in the sewers. He takes care of them, but doesn’t feel like he deserves to live with them.

Aisling, Maxwell, and Niall Machin

So this is more uncomfortable town because Lonnie literally got Aisling, Max, and Niall removed from his custody. Because he’s a shit parent and treated two of them like garbage.

Now Aisling, Max, and Niall all have different mothers, but all three were left with Lonnie as toddlers. Lonnie was kind of blasé about Aisling, he borderline neglected her and she ended up growing up way faster than she should have, something that became even worse when Max came into the picture.

Lonnie does not like Max. Right now. I’m not sure why but Lonnie hates Max and was determined to make him absolutely miserable. Max had an extremely small room (think the broom cupboard from Harry Potter small, in fact he probably lived in a broom cupboard) that locked from the outside. Max could not lock himself in his room for privacy, but Lonnie could lock Max in for however long he wanted and enter whenever he wanted. Essentially Max was confined to a small space and had no privacy. To make things worse, Lonnie beat him if he disobeyed or did anything Lonnie deemed “disobedient”. Max skipping meals out of stress was disobedient, for instance, which probably wasn’t helped by Max refusing to obey ridiculous demands and snapping at Lonnie.

And then there was Niall. Basically, Lonnie’s precious baby who can do no wrong. He spoiled Niall rotten, never punished him for doing anything wrong, never told him no, but Niall wasn’t grateful. He wasn’t ungrateful because he was a brat; he was ungrateful because he saw the huge disparity between Lonnie doting on him, neglecting Aisling, and abusing Max, and he knew it was wrong. Niall was the one to tell the police what was happening and get the three of them away from Lonnie. Max and Aisling have no idea that it was Niall that took them from Lonnie, Niall never told them, and he doesn’t plan to. He doesn’t want either of them to know that he remembers vividly how Lonnie treated Max and Aisling.

Now they live with Abigail Curtis, her twin brother Jasper, and Jasper’s boyfriend Basir. Aisling tends to still act as a mother to her younger brothers, and she and Niall are happy to see Max happier in the Curtis household. I’m not sure how Lonnie responded to losing his kids, but considering he didn’t really care about Aisling or Max, he probably is only upset about losing Niall. Abigail, Jasper, and Basir do a much better job raising the Machin siblings.

Andrea Monroe

So Andrea’s home life is relatively happy and she and her mother are on very good terms, but there’s something that I want to bring up that is important: Andrea’s hair.

Andrea’s hair is not naturally blonde like, say, Sarah or Barbara’s. Andrea’s hair is naturally brown like her mother’s. Andrea dyed her hair blonde because she noticed that every time someone told her she looked like her mother, her mother would look upset, because Paige does not find herself beautiful but does think her daughter is beautiful. So, Andrea dyed her hair blonde so people would stop telling her she looked like her mom. This is a running part of Andrea’s personality. Because her mother is often melancholy or morose, Andrea forced a sunny disposition because she felt that if she was happy, her mother would be happy.

Barbara and Todd Quinzel

To make a very complex issue simple, Todd nearly died when he was born. The birth went fine and everything but Todd was barely breathing when he was born and extremely frail. He was rushed to NICU and one doctor, a poor soul who was nearly killed, had to go over to Joker and tell him his son might die and that he was weak. Todd survived, but Joker was internally reliving losing Jeannie and his unborn child and nearly had a nervous breakdown. He also nearly killed a man so, you know. Nevertheless, Joker, from that point on, was extremely protective of Todd. He lets the reigns up slightly but will regularly get very upset if Todd does anything dangerous. It doesn’t help that doctors attributed Todd’s albinism, asthma, and hypotonia to possibly being Joker’s fault (the theory goes that the chemical bath Joker underwent damaged his biology so it was very likely that the conditions Todd suffers from are a result).

Barbara is the princess of the family at times. She’s pretty, can easily match her parent’s energy, and clever. Not that Todd isn’t any of those things, but Barbara is louder so it’s a little more noticeable to other people.

Harley can tend towards being a bit distant with Todd and Barbara. When she is around she takes care of them and loves them but if Joker and Harley have a fight, Harley will leave for a few days and either come back because she’s over the fight or because Joker ended up in Arkham and the kids need a parent.

Leon Sanchez

So considering Leo is the way he is I think it’s a given he does not have a great home life. Bane’s still an active villain and for a good portion of Leo’s early childhood, he was being looked after by either Zsasz, which is the #1 worst choice for a godfather ever made GG Bane, or Bane’s men, most of which took decent care of Leo but were occasionally not exactly nice to him. He was never hurt by any of them or at least, the ones that did didn’t live long afterwards, but generally Leo was a kid in a place kids didn’t belong and Bane’s men were sure to let Leo know. Bane didn’t call Leo anything besides Leo for a long time, and Leo picked up the habit from his men of calling Bane “jefe”.

This kind of mildly uncomfortable and strained relationship was not the kind of relationship Bane wanted to have with his son, and when Leo was twelve, he started calling Leo “mijo” in hopes that Leo would pick up on the action and return the gesture. It took Leo time to transition from “jefe” to “papa”, as in two years, but of all the problems in Leo’s home life, his relationship with his father is a lot better than it was when Leo was small. The other problems, like Bane’s men being a lot more aggressive toward Leo as he got older because they realized Bane may rise to defend an eight-year-old, but he isn’t going to defend a thirteen-year-old, and Leo literally living in a drug den, aren’t so easily solved.

Gwendolyn Tetch

So Gwen does not live with Jervis, she lives with Barbara Gordon, and this is because when she was born, her mother didn’t want to keep her and Jervis was to mentally unstable to care for a child. Jervis is aware of Gwen and even got to name her, but Barbara Gordon has custody of Gwen, not Jervis. Gwen is aware of why she cannot live with Jervis but is extremely upset about the fact that her mother didn’t want her. Barbara does what she can, but doesn’t feel like she’s an adequate substitute for Gwen’s real mother.

Marcus Wesker

I’ve talked about Marcus a bit before but I want to go over it again. So, when Marcus was about four or five, his parents left him with Arnold Wesker, his grandfather, effectively abandoning him. Marcus was old enough to remember it, and still has abandonment issues as a result. To make matters worse, while Arnold was, passable as a caretaker and Marcus liked him fine, Scarface is a different story.

Scarface verbally abused Marcus regularly, shouting, swearing, insulting, and threatening him. If that personality had the ability, he probably would’ve gotten physical too; he certainly threatened it a number of times. As a small child, Marcus couldn’t make the distinction that Scarface was just an alter and was not actually alive. He is now utterly terrified of all ventriloquist dummies. He still lives with Arnold, and while he’s tried finding his parents or talking to them, he’s never been able to track where they went and has no idea why they left him.

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