#Especially how Bruce was sO FUCKING SUPPORTIVE

[brucewaynehater101]

i've been chewing over the tcf!tim au a lot these past few days and this is what my brain came up with: 1. jack and janet aren't really present in tim's life- not out of choice, but out of necessity: see tim had been affected with a curse (similar to that on the tcf protagonist) that made it so that he would eventually lose anything precious to him

2. after they find out, jack and janet decide to physically distance themselves from him (though they can't bring themselves to do so emotionally) while at the same time going on archaelogical trips in hopes to find a way to solve the curse. this way they would hopefully live long enough for tim to be old enough to take care of himself before the curse took them away from him

3. in the meantime, they plopped him in gotham to hopefully slow down / weaken the curse (due to how cursed the city already is, it probably acts like fighting fire with fire or poison with poison, also you can't convince me that as rich as they were they wouldn't have chosen to settle down in any other city if they had other options) and hire a revolving door of nannies (the good ones tim gets attached to often experience unfortunate circumstances that made them have to leave their post, while the bad ones get found out and fired by his parents)

4. tim still gets attached to dick at the circus (and then dick's parents died, and tim lost dick's smile that he liked)

5. tim gets attached to batman and robin -> dick and bruce fight and the og dynamic duo fall apart

6. tim gets attached to jason -> jason gets murdered

7. tim pulls batman out of his spiral and ironically, bruce's prickliness delayed tim getting attached to him, which meant he got to stick around (until he got better, then he ended up being yeeted through time)

8. that whole lead-up to brucequest where he lost a whole bunch of loved ones in quick succession? yeah, the curses of gotham are struggling against his (quantity vs quality)

i just think this idea is neat. and tim's guilt would be growing out of control once he finds out about the curse (why didn't anyone else notice before? because everyone assumed gotham folks are just cursed in general)

it also means he gets a fun (angsty) new motivation to avoid his family post-regression: he doesn't know if the curse is still active and would target them, so he plays the asshole to ward them off so that nothing worse would happen

Well, fuck.

I do love the Good!Parents Jack and Janet in this. It's a bit hard to make Jack or Janet decent parents to Tim while also affording him the independency his character typically has.

The curse is a cool addition to the tcf!Tim au that adds more reason to Tim being an asshole. Him not knowing if he's cursed or not is a great angst plot point, especially because it would be very easy for him to find out. He knows countless magic people that could tell him. Constantine would do it quietly for a quick buck. If Tim continues to not know despite his ability to, that's because he simply didn't want to find out. Dealer's choice on whether that's because he was scared or he wanted an excuse to self-destruct (i.e. cut himself off from his support groups).

The real shitty part about curses that seem like bad luck (or that cause bad luck) is that you can't be sure what is the curse and what is life being shit. Tim will probably blame himself for every horrid thing that has happened to someone after he entered their life.

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #thank you for the ask!!!!

[dairy-farmer]

Sneaking back iiiin~☆ After a period of being away o/

D-Lister Otome Powers POG? I think SO! CONSIDER:

Tim, out on patrol, things have been... tense. He's gotten Bruce back from the timeline, but it hasn't FIXED anything. Things were said. He spiraled. Trust was betrayed. He doesn't... he doesn't feel like he HAS a home anymore.

Dick feels betrayed and worried TOO. He needed Tim's support. Instead he broke down, went rouge, and nearly DIED. Didn't explain ANYTHING. Now he's drifting away from the family.

Bruce is barely recovered. His family is in pieces around him and he's pretty sure it's his fault.

So... Patrol is... Professional. Tense. Like it has been for days.

Red Robin is checking out some minor disturbance. Discovers clues that it's some INCREDIBLY naive or foolish out-of-towner who thinks they can "make a name for themselves" in America's crime capital. Idiot is going to get himself killed.

But why target a minor gaming company?

No matter, RR can handle it. He's tired, patrols nearly over. Should be quick.

The days after weeks of hurt and hypertense emotions have left him exhausted. Making mistakes he would normally NEVER make. Like going after an unknown alone. No matter how small they SEEM.

You could always be wrong.

And that KILLS.

Batman trained him better then that. Bruce, catches his plan, too late. Is blocks away. Can hear, through Tim's comms, the most terrifying sort of confidence in that opponents voice. Not fool hardy overconfidence. Not arrogance. But "I have a nasty trick that I KNOW you can't counter". Tim. Tim, get out of there! TIM!

Red Robin does not respond.

And Tim? Wakes up with a splitting headache. Too... honestly? What looks A LOT frilly, hyper feminine version of one of Drake Manor's guest rooms. But with "personal touches" added to make it LOOK like someone supposedly lives here. Too generic though. And too artfully placed. It looks like a movie set.

Where the fuck is h-*DING!*

Then a blue screen like some of the holographic screens he's seen before, pops up. "Welcome to ☆~Knights In Gotham~☆! Complete the game or be trapped forever~♡!" It reads in cutesy font.

Well that ONE way to get him out of bed. But unfortunately, it takes less then 15 minutes to confirm that he is, indeed, not in his native reality. MIGHT be drugged or hypnotized. He'll have to test. But the whole new reproductive set, suggest otherwise.

So he pokes around. Speed runs his emotional "I'm trapped, might never see my family again. No. No! I WILL escape!" Character arc/mental breakdown in the shower. Finds some pants.

Figures out what sort of game this is. It's an Otome game. Dating. Based on? His FAMILY. Fffffuck his life.

Okay, should be TOO bad right? People never get their personalities right in fan stuff. Thanks to the Bats being Cryptids. So Tim can just pretend they're other people, right?

Wrong.

The game world he quickly realizes, is using HIS knowledge to fill in the blanks of the massively unfinished framework. This assholes Meta powers? Can only trap him IN here. He's not in control of it. NO ONE IS. Oh, that's so much worse.

Outside? Bruce has BatDad'd panic beat downed the Otome Meta. Where is his BABY BOY!? He can't answer you unconscious, Bruce. Thankfully, Dick is observant. There us a computer on. With Tim on it. He puts two and two together. They are able to keep the power on and transfer the computer to the cave.

Meanwhile? Tim is staring down a Bruce in FULL Brucie Mask. Debating with himself. Because on ONE hand? Childhood wet dreams: Get? But on the OTHER, baggage for daaaaays. And there us no guarantee this isn't a PG title. So like? Bruce would DEFINITELY be the hardest Route, wouldn't he?

He has no idea what he's doing.

He doesn't PLAY these type of games.

He figures, since demon child DOESNT have a reason to hate him here? Probably the safest bet. Especially since he won't feel as bad manipulating a version of him. It should be fine right?

Wrong. He doesn't play these sort of games. Is unaware of how they work and what's at stake. He bungles it. Doesn't play to the troupes, gets his first Bad End. He knew just a touch TOO much, too soon, too openly. Damian's character became convinced he was either a Rouge or an Assassin. But! He got all those "heart event" thingies! Tim mentally protests!

Which is why it doesn't just cut to black, a sudden attack from behind, "Game Over".

No, Tim wakes up behind bars. In a bunker. Nicer then a prison cell, but only just. Because Damian LOVES him. But can not allow him to continue his criminal ways. So he's going to rehabilitate him. By force if necessary. And he knows, because he is not a fool, that Tim does not truely love him. But?

He can fix that too.

They have time.

Outside? Actual Damian is horrified. His feelings towards Drake are... complexe. But this?! Absolutely not! He lunges forward. Dick is trying desperately to hit the Restart. It's not working. Damian hits it HARDER. It works immediately. (They later realize only the "Route" target can restart the game)

Tim wakes up in the starting room.

This time he fuckin LOOKS UP Otome Games on a computer.

Takes a bracing shot of whiskey, because this IS Drake Manor and he knows where his parents hid the good stuff, and tries again. Gets the Neutral End. Fuck! Okay, tries AGAIN. Gets shot, Game Over. Oh god damn it!

He keeps going.

Nothing seems to be WORKING. He's getting stressed. Lonely, desperate, hopelessness trying to set in. He just... just wants to feel WARM you know? Reassured. Held. Knows he's not thinking clearly, but...

So he goes after "Brucie". He KNOWS Bruce. Knows how he picks his one night stands. Knows how to dress up just enough, just OFF enough, to not be suspicious. It's a bad idea. He knows it as he gets dressed. As he arrives. Flirts. Charms and drinks, but not too much. Let's himself be tucked under Bruce's arm. Led away.

Kon always said he was great with his mouth. From the way "Brucie" tenses, like iron under the sild of his suit, holding himself back from grabbing and being rougher then his reputation would allow? He'd say Bruce agrees. Tim certainly puts his all into it. Let's himself lose himself to the rhythm of movement. The scent of Bruce's cologne. The slide over his tounge.

Stolen moments though, aren't enough to get to everything Bruce wants.

The party ends too soon. And Tim leaves with the other guests.

Only to find himself FIRMLY in Bruce's route. The man showing up everywhere. Stealing kisses. Hands disappearing under clothes. Bruce, as he tends too, obsessed. In love. Overwhelming. Tim finally, FINALLY get a Good End.

He also gets fucked, in his bed, within an inch of incoherence, by Batman.

Yet the Game does not release him. Because it did not say "complete A Route" the realse conditions were Complete the GAME. So now Tim has to "win" the others.

All while they watch.

Because THEY are the only ones who can start a new route. Bruce absolutely could have hit that restart once the Good End popped up. Yet... he let the scene play out. Sat, alone, having sent the others to bed... and watched his son get fucked by a version of himself. Watched his son gasp and whimper, cry out and sob, in pleasure.

They each get to watch. As Tim bonds with "them". Spends time with "them".

Eventually, Tim manages the secret Harem Ending. Stumbles free into the waiting arms of his family. They rejoince. But the question remains~! What will they do know? After so long, thinking darkly that they could "do better"? That TIM deserved better then the touch of imposters? That is the question we ask! As I run out of steam and need to sleep! Thoughts?

-🐼🐼🐼

tim's family watching as he works through all their "routes" 👀👀👀👀

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

[whipbogard]

So what are you dreaming tonight, Harvey? Peaceful dreams Nightmares? Maybe both at once?

Sleep well my friend. Wherever you are, whatever you have become, I will save you. I swear.

Me:

#I’ve watched this bit so many times #but today I finally watched the 2F episodes properly #IN CONTEXT ITS EVEN MORE FUCKING HEARTBREAKING #Especially how Bruce was sO FUCKING SUPPORTIVE #DIDNT SHAME HARVEY ABOUT HIS MENTAL HEALTH #AND ENCOURAGED HIM TO SEEK HELL #*HELP!!!!!! #AND THE WAY HE IMMEDIATELY COULD TELL THAT HARVEY WAS IN TROUBLE #AND WENT AFTER HIM #AND TRIED TO STOP HARVEY FROM DOING THINFS HED REGRET #jfc I’m actually gross sobbing over this rn #bruharvey #BTAS

[makethatelevenrings]

"back off" with Jaason?

TW: patronizing man

Scary dog privileges. That’s what Artemis called it once when she saw him in action.

Even if you were simply stopping by the corner store for some more bananas and yogurt, he was there. Anytime the sun set on Gotham and the criminals began to crawl out of the shadows, you couldn’t go anywhere without your guard dog.

At first it rubbed you the wrong way. Did he not trust you?

But then you learned quickly that it wasn’t you he didn’t trust. It was the leering monsters of Gotham who preyed on young women like you. You found solace in his presence, even if he insisted on following you the ten feet it took you from your work to your front door.

But this was the first time that Jason Todd had to go into scary dog mode during the day.

He had left the table the two of you were occupying so he could go help a woman outside who appeared to be struggling to juggle her grocery bags and her cane. You loved your kindhearted man and savored the sight of the way the corner of his eyes crinkled with his laughter. He took her bags in one of his big, strong hands and offered her his arm which she gladly took. Jason glanced at you through the window and jerked his head towards the left before holding up four fingers. 

He wouldn’t be gone long so you could hold down the fort for a bit.

The humid Gotham air caused condensation to gather on the surface of your travel mug and you absentmindedly drew your finger through the droplets as you thumbed through some paperwork that Bruce asked you to take a look at. For Wayne Enterprises, that is. Not the night job.

The Bowery wasn’t just Jason’s territory. You pulled the marionette strings for the daytime practices. As he cleaned up the mob, you focused on filling in the power vacuums left behind by various murders and arrests. Job training programs, continuing education, supporting schools, that was your thing. So when Bruce approached Jason about building a new library in the Bowery, your boyfriend directed his father to you.

You were so engrossed in the details of the building plan that you didn’t look up when the chair across from you pulled away. You assumed it was Jason, of course.

“Did you know your dad wants the entire first floor to be for children and teens while also supplying a social worker program on the second floor for the unhoused?” you mused. When your question went unanswered, you raised your head to find a man who was decidedly not your boyfriend leering at you.

“Can I help you?” you sighed.

“Hi. I’m Mark. I was working over in the corner and noticed that you were really focused. Can I ask what you’re working on?”

“No, but you can fuck off,” you said as politely as your sharp words would allow. “If you saw me sitting here, then you saw my boyfriend seated here too.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, I was just looking to make polite conversation but you’re over here jumping to conclusions. Can’t a guy just come say hello?”

You clasped your hands in front of you on the table and leaned forward. “Alright, Mark. What were your intentions when you came over here? Especially since you waited until my boyfriend was gone. That doesn’t seem to be polite conversation but predatory behavior.”

You flashed him a fake smile and batted your lashes. His lips screwed up tightly and he scoffed. “All of you females are the same. I mean, you really thought that I would want to hit on you? How arrogant can you be? Here’s a tip: learn to respect men an-”

He was cut off by a hand curling around the collar of his shirt. Jason yanked Mark up and out of the chair and pulled him in close, his lips peeling back in a sneer.

“Here’s a tip: you see any girl, but especially my girl, and you learn to back off before I break your arm off and shove it down your fucking throat,” Jason growled. You blinked up at the two men and then grinned, leaning your head on your hand and watching as your guard dog went into attack mode.

“Hey man, I was just trying to be friendly,” Mark gasped out. There was no way he could take on the over six foot tall tank that was Jason Todd. Your boyfriend’s jaw clenched and a vein throbbed under his skin, which you really shouldn’t find so hot. 

“Yeah? I wasn’t. You should be glad I’m feeling charitable today. Now, you’re gonna pack your shit up and get out of my fucking sight.”

He let go of the weasel and stepped back so his thigh brushed against your shoulder. Jason crossed his arms over his chest, accentuating his already massive form with the bulge of his biceps. Mark raised his hands as he scooched around the mountainous man and darted back to his table.

“Sorry, Mallory,” Jason called to the owner of your favorite cafe. She merely waved him off and shot you a wink. You leaned your head against Jason and raised your hand to settle on his waist but he didn’t relax until Mark was out of the store, the bell ringing behind him as the door slammed shut on his ass.

“He didn’t touch you, right?” Jason asked. His voice still held that sharp edge to it but it softened when he turned to face you. One of his hands came up to cup your cheek and you smiled at his touch.

“No, baby. I wouldn’t let him touch me even if he tried.”

“Good.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before he rounded the table and settled back in his seat. One of his hands remained clasped over yours as he gazed at you from across the table.

“Guess what your dad wants to do on the first floor?” you asked as you waved the building plans in front of his face.

“Tell me,” he hummed. Jason Todd might be your guard dog, but you never saw his fangs directed at you. Despite his size and stature, he was just a little puppy when it came to you.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #honey's 3k celebration

[vacayisland]

Can I request a floyd x fem!kpop troll who was in her own group and Floyd’s reaction when he finds out? (If you need help w groups I suggest girls generation/SNSD or twice :D)

@!; I never knew! Floyd / Fem!Kpop Troll! Reader

"Tag list"! @writergal02 @chamille-trash @valvalentine69 @starzwithapen @ykvlanq

ꨄ︎ Having met Floyd after your group had blew up, you were hesitant to tell him about your career. Not because you didn't trust him nor were you ashamed of yourself or your group members, yet... he was one of the first people who didn't know who you were. He didn't know your K-pop group, he didn't know your stage name, he didn't call you or fangirl over you when he saw you. It was honestly refreshing, really refreshing.

ꨄ︎ You had joint your group for fun, at first; you thought having a group of other like minded people to rise to fame with would be fucking amazing. And while it was, the amount of fans you guys got swamped with was, well, unbearable. You loved the support, you loved your fans, yet finally finding someone who didn't know who you were was like finding a needle in a hay stack. Especially when your management had managed to get your groups music in every tribe after the events at the Hard Rock tribe. It not only blasted your popularity within the K-Pop trolls group, and their following, yet throughout the other tribes. And you didn't want to ruin the thing you had going with Floyd; so you kept your mouth shut.

ꨄ︎ Every time you had to do something with your group, you always made up an excuse for Floyd. Little yet believable things, like "Oh my sister is sick, I have to take care of her", "I'm spending time with family", "I had a long day and need a moment to myself", "I'm baking with friends", "girls only sleep over sorry", "I'm not in the village right now!". You know, simple white lies that had some sort of truth behind them. You hated lying to Floyd, especially when you two were really clicking, yet you also couldn't tell him the truth; not yet. And Floyd always seemed to not mind, always respected your plans and you, so you thought it was alright.

ꨄ︎ Meanwhile, when you weren't hanging out with Floyd, Floyd was hanging out with his brothers, Poppy, and Viva. It was always casual hangouts either in Branch's bunker, Poppy's pod, or else where around the village. Yet, one day while hanging out in Branch's bunker, Poppy brought out Branch's record player. She began exclaiming, basically shouting and springing with excitement, with how Branch had got her a new vinyl of this band that Poppy loves! Bruce encouraged her to play it, and well Poppy and Viva squealed and danced around while listening to it. "Oh hey, it's that new band." Bruce mumbled, recognizing the tune and lyrics, as well as the voices, of the k-pop band that was currently running a rampage in his house. "My kids love these girls."

ꨄ︎ That was the first time Floyd was exposed to your music, or k-pop in general. He enjoyed it, so he had asked Branch where he bought it and went to go buy himself a copy so he could listen to it at his own pod. He even sent you a photo of the vinyl after he got it!

ꨄ︎ "Hey, look at this new group my brothers introduced me to! Do you know them? They sound really good."

ꨄ︎ As soon as you got that message, and looked at the vinyl record, you freaked out. You scared the shit out of your fellow members, who stared at you so confused and concerned; Even your make-up stylist was concerned. "Hey, hey! What's wrong?" One of them would asked, panickily rushing to your side. You were sure they thought that you just got a message of Floyd cheating on you with another guy. But nope, "He bought one of our vinyls! He knows about our music!" "Oh. you know I thought this would be more serious-" "THIS IS SERIOUS!"

ꨄ︎ You accidentality left Floyd on read for 10 minutes as you explained to the others that you had never told Floyd about your association with this group. You had never told him you sang, or you were apart of this big K-pop group that blew up globally and you weren't sure how to tell him and it's not like you want to tell him incase that somehow ruined your current relationship! It was a lot to confess, especially when you all were getting ready for a show. Your other members stared at you like you were a little mental for your line of reasoning. And maybe you were, but you didn't want to out yourself now! You've been keeping this up for 7 months!

ꨄ︎ That's when Floyd texted you again: "Hey, are you okay? I saw you read my message and you don't usually leave me on read. Unless something happened?"

ꨄ︎ And you had no choice but to respond! You couldn't leave him on read twice. "Hey, sorry something just came up. Yeah, I've heard of them they're pretty good."

ꨄ︎ "Did you really just call us good?" Your group was now peaking over your shoulder, silently reading the conversation to themselves as it played out. They had always been curious about you and this Floyd fellow, and now they understood why you never introduced them. "That's either really egotistical or just sad you think we're so bad." Commented one of them to your left, and you would have agreed with her in you weren't under a lot of pressure right now! "I don't know, I'm panicking!"

ꨄ︎ You somehow managed to get through that conversation without outing yourself, but you couldn't spare yourself from your groups disappointment about your actions; And, to be fair, you were disappointed in yourself. They would pull chairs around, forming a circle around you that kind of made you feel like you were in rehab, or in some sort of intervention. "You know you're going to have to tell him at some point, right?" They would point out, "You cannot possibly keep all of this a secret forever. I don't even know how you've managed to hid it from him for seven months!" You would only sigh, "I know! I know... I just don't know how to say it without sounding..." "Insane?", "Mental?", "Like you're a big fat lair?" "Okay rude- but yes!"

ꨄ︎ "Invite him to a show!" Was the agreement you had all came to, even thought it made you queasy even thinking about mixing your K-pop life with your personal life. You were so comfortable with Floyd and you didn't want to mess anything up; You also didn't want to accidentally out your relationship to your fans and cause some sort of havoc that had to be cleared up by your PR team. Nor did you want any of them to go to Floyd's way and do who knows what. But, knowing you also couldn't lie to him forever, you caved in and sent him the tickets in the mail along with a letter:

ꨄ︎ "Floyd! You have mail." JD called from the elevator as he came back into the bunker with mail. Everyone was gathered around in the kitchen, talking and slowly waking up; JD only dumped the pile of letters, party invites, and anything else that got stuck in mail onto the counter. He handed Floyd' letter to him personally, with a playful wiggle of the eyebrow. Confused, but a little intrigued, Floyd opened the envelope and read the letter, taking his time and not minding the peeping eyes of everyone around. His brothers, seemed to interested with this letter. "It's tickets?" Floyd mumbled when he reached the end of your letter, noticing the lipstick kiss on the bottom. His cheeks flushed a little, a dorky smile wobbling onto his lips before he coughed and tried to compose himself. He knew he would never hear the end of it from his brothers, who were already snickering! All but for Branch, "Tickets to what?" "Tickets to that band you introduced us to." Floyd mumbled, pulling out 7 VIP tickets to your next concert in Pop Village. Poppy nor Viva could contain their screams as soon as they saw the tickets!

ꨄ︎ Floyd texted you later in the day, thanking you for the tickets. Yet, just as you knew he would, he couldn't help but question where you got them (and if you bought them, how he would pay you back) and why there was only 7 and not 8 (where you not coming?). You could only text him back that he would understand during the concert; which was in a few days time.

ꨄ︎ And then you may or may not have ghosted him... Listen, you were completely freaking out about this new change. Even if it hadn't started yet, you had so much fear you half hoped that you ghosting Floyd would end in him thinking you hated him and he wouldn't come and you never will have to face with the consequences of your own actions. Wow, that actually not sounded so shitty thinking about it. "Oh hey, lover boy is here!" "WHAT?!"

ꨄ︎ Your plan didn't work, Floyd sort of figured everything out after hearing Poppy infodump about the group a day before the show. He was still a little iffy about his assumption that you were a member of this group, yet thought he might right. After all, it would explain a lot about your odd schedule and your recent ghosting. And while Floyd was sitting down, getting comfortable next to his brothers and the ever so excited Poppy, Viva, and surprisingly Clay and Branch, you were freaking out! The others literally kept having to splash water in your face to keep you from backing out, or maybe even passing out. You couldn't believe this was happening, you couldn't believe that he actually came, you couldn't believe- "Come on ladies, we need you on stage now!"

ꨄ︎ During the performance, you kept glancing over where Floyd and his brothers were, so nervous about his reaction. You saw, on several occasions, Viva and Poppy shouting and cheering, dancing with both Clay and Branch and between themselves. Bruce acted like any other dad that was brought to this concert because of his teenage daughter, and Floyd... Oh you were too nervous to get a good look at him. Yet, what you didn't see was that Floyd was your biggest supporter. He was shouted your name with the biggest smile, singing your lyrics (that he so didn't memorize since he got the tickets and even more so when he pieced things together).

ꨄ︎ He's so supportive! <3

ꨄ︎ He was slightly shocked when he first realized who you were, but quickly became your biggest fan! Literally ran to you after the show, couldn't hold himself back from pulling you into such a big hug. Literally was gushing over how amazing your performance was and he was so sorry he ever made you feel like you had to hide this from him. You had to reassure him it wasn't because of anything he did.

ꨄ︎ "Wha- Floyd no! I didn't keep this away from you because you were the problem!" You rushed how instantly as soon as you heart Floyd apologize. You couldn't even believe he would even begin to think that this was somehow his fault, when it was the opposite. "It.. it wasn't?" His look of confusion pulled at your heart so much. The way he pulled away from the hug for a moment, hands still on your shoulders, as he gave you a confused wide-eyed look. You cursed yourself for not telling him earlier! "No, of course not! I was-..." You paused for a moment, biting at the edge of your lip. You thought over your words carefully, "It was... nice to have someone who didn't know who I was. It felt like I could be, you know, normal around you. I didn't have to worry about being stage me because I could just be me!" "Oh..." Floyd seemed like he understood that feeling all too well. You stared at him, your eyebrows scrunching a little in confusion. "What?" "Why do you look like you know exactly what I'm talking about like you've experienced it before?" "Because I do!" Floyd would give you a small smile, "Back in my Brozone days-" "YOU WERE IN BROZONE?!"

ꨄ︎ Floyd may or may not have forgotten to mention he had been a member of BroZone; Whoops!

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

#floyd trolls x reader #brozone x reader #trolls x reader #trolls band together #trolls fandom #trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls 3 #trolls dreamworks #brozone #floyd trolls #trolls movie #clay trolls #branch trolls #jd trolls #spruce trolls #spruce #floyd #branch #john dory #viva #poppy trolls

[forgotten-daydreamer]

I'm sorry, but if the first thing you do to your dead-and-resurrected son after he reveals his identity is to beat him mercilessly, maybe consider therapy??

I get it, Jason did all sorts of stuff that's, how do I put it, frowned upon, but he went after people who trafficked children and sold them drugs- not after innocents or minor criminals.

"I'm what this city needs." sums his whole character up. If violence against the violent is what it takes to ensure the civilians' safety, then so be it.

Can you blame a kid who was raised in a house that was constantly on fire (fig.) because of drugs and abuse if he grows up to despise those things especially when kids are involved? Can you? I, for one, can't, and don't want to.

Jason was 101% right to do what he did. And he was 101% right for telling Bruce off for his clouded judgement and useless moral code.

Again, "I forgive you, for not saving me. But why on God's earth is he still alive? [...] I'm talking about [killing] him [the Joker], just him, and doing it because he took me away from you."

You can't not get what Jason means with those words, they aren't hard to decipher, there isn't any hidden message. Jason wanted Bruce, his father, to get rid of his son's murderer because said son was pried away from his father's hands, starved, tortured and blown the fuck up. A kid, barely a teen, was fucking killed, and his father brooded and mourned but didn't get shit done to avoid violating his own moral code.

I don't believe in the "once you start, you don't stop" myth, because trust me, if Bruce had let Jason kill the Joker, if he'd "supported" his decision (not like "Yes, do it!" but at least "I understand, I see your point, I won't stop you.") Jason would've probably stopped killing after that. Or, maybe he'd have stuck to major drug dealers and lowlives involved in human trafficking and underage prostitution- maybe only the ones that had been in and out of Arkham for decades and didn't show any remorse.

Jason would have, 101%, become less violent, less murderous, and less scared. He would've healed.

(BTW I love the whole Under The Red Hood arc and I'm happy that things went the way they did because, as a fic writer, I have lots of fun with all the angst! I love it, wouldn't have it any other way. Just- you know, just saying what could've happened!)

#under the red hood #jason todd #red hood #batman #bruce wayne

[suzukiblu]

Tim’s my blorbo so I’ll always take more Tim content

Apparently Cadmus knew Experiment Thirteen was the one to invest in because Experiment Thirteen had a soulmark.

Apparently Cadmus also considered terminating Experiment Thirteen because Experiment Thirteen had a soulmark.

Tim knows this because he broke into the place and stole a copy of Superboy's file the day after they met.

He also knows what Superboy's soulmark looks like, because these absolute bastards not only took multiple pictures of it, they put those pictures in his fucking file. Not even, like, classified or tucked away behind a firewall or a password or anything. Not even in a seperate folder. Just right there in his standard file where literally any random scientist or doctor or goddamn intern could trip right over them without even meaning to.

Forget the fucking mind control; that's fucked up.

So yeah. Tim knows what Superboy's soulmark looks like. It's a stark, dark red, all sharp angles slung low in the V of his Adonis belt and cutting from one hip to the other, looking not unlike a stylized bird in flight coming at the viewer head-on. Bold. Undeniable. Very much like Superboy himself, really.

And exactly like the mark that came in on Tim when, he now knows, Superboy was first put together in a fucking petri dish. So that's . . . a whole thing, there.

Well. At least his soulmate is only literally fifteen years younger than him, not physically and mentally.

Although that doesn't really seem like a big improvement, to be honest.

Tim didn't even know he was into guys, actually? Definitely didn't know Superboy was into guys, all things considered. Like, he would not expect somebody like him to ever be subtle about who or what he was into.

Maybe they're platonics, Tim tries to tell himself. The fact that his first thought upon learning that Superboy was his soulmate was immediately questioning his own sexuality doesn't really support that theory, though.

Though it does help explain why Poison Ivy putting her hands on the guy had pissed him off so bad.

Like. It very much does.

Tim doesn't actually know what to do about this. Bruce still thinks he doesn't even have a soulmate, due to Tim previously really, really not wanting to deal with the absolute embarrassment of admitting that said soulmate was an actual fucking baby, so Tim never got the Bat-version of the soulmate talk. Bruce'd sat him down to give it to him when he'd first become Robin, but Tim hadn't had a mark then, obviously, so they'd both just assumed he didn't have to worry about it. Tim is pretty sure Bruce had been as relieved as he had to dodge that particular bullet, really. Apparently Dick had needed visual aids and hadn't understood the "gilly talk" version. And Jason had had questions.

Lots of questions.

Creative ones.

Sometimes Tim suspects Jason might've been an asshole. Like, just a little bit of one.

So no, Tim does not blame Bruce for deciding to skip that particular talk with him, especially when they'd both thought he wasn't gonna need to know any of it anyway.

So . . . yeah. He doesn't know how he's supposed to approach this situation. Obviously telling Superboy that they're soulmates would compromise Tim's secret identity and therefore Bruce's, and everybody and their damn mother knows Superboy himself doesn't even have a secret identity so it's not like Tim can figure that out and approach him that way.

On the other hand, not telling him that they're soulmates isn't a great start to being soulmates, now is it.

Crap, Tim thinks.

Then he calls Dick, because if he has to sit through the Bat-version of the soulmate talk, at least maybe Dick will be slightly less embarrassing to hear it from.

As long as there's no visual aids involved, anyway.

"Hey, Tim," Dick greets as he picks up the phone. Tim has a carefully crafted plan of attack, of course; several, in fact. He's got all sorts of subtle ways to lead the conversation without revealing anything too damning or too specific and while keeping everything in hypotheticals. Just making the whole thing either a quick thought exercise or casual curiosity from an unmarked kid who's heard one too many soulmate stories and wants to know more. So Tim's prepared. Tim's ready.

Tim panics.

"Poison Ivy kissed my soulmate and I want to burn down her entire life," he blurts.

"Uh," Dick says. "You're . . . gonna have to catch me up a little here, baby bird. For starters, I thought you didn't have a soulmate."

"I didn't," Tim says as he starts to pace back and forth across his bedroom, because he's already screwed this up so there's no point in playing coy now. "Then some dickheads in Metropolis decided to steal Superman's dead body and make a cocky asshole with douchey shades and a leather fetish out of it."

"Ohhhhh boy," Dick says. "What'd B say?"

"I found out like half an hour ago and you're the only person I've told, so nothing yet," Tim says. "What's the Bat-protocol for finding out your soulmate is somebody in the community, exactly? Specifically somebody in douchey shades?"

"Depends," Dick says. "How'd the kid react?"

". . . I don't know how to say this without sounding like a total creep, but he doesn't know," Tim admits with a wince. "I broke into Cadmus to make a copy of his file after I met him and they just . . . had his soulmark in it. Like. There wasn't even a password. It wasn't even in an isolated folder. It was just there."

"That is the most fucked up thing I've heard since the last time I had to talk to Jervis Tetch," Dick mutters in obvious disgust. "Alright, well, how are you reacting, then?"

"My soulmate is a baby," Tim grumbles disgruntledly, dropping into his desk chair. "A baby who is also a teenager."

"Tim, you're a teenager too," Dick reminds him wryly. "You are very much so a teenager too, in fact."

"Yeah, and it sucks," Tim says emphatically. "And I have, like, actual legal guardians and a home and a trust fund. Superboy just lives somewhere in Hawaii with a sleazy businessman and his kid and some random guy from Cadmus!"

"That's, uh, actually not great," Dick says, sounding a little troubled.

"You think?!" Tim demands. "He's a baby! An infant! And he lives with his frigging manager!"

"What the actual hell," Dick says.

"Just–is it ethical to kidnap your own soulmate and does that even matter if they're not legally a person and so you couldn't actually be charged for anything anyway?" Tim mutters speculatively, drumming his fingers on his desk for a moment and then booting up his computer. "I mean, B can't get mad at me for doing it if the courts can't get me for doing it, right?"

"Wait, Superboy's not legally a person?" Dick asks incredulously.

"Nope," Tim says. "Which neither Cadmus nor the sleazebag selling his likeness for a living has in any way tried to correct, for the record. Technically he's classified as intellectual property, but Cadmus forfeited legal possession when Superman turned up alive again, presumably to avoid Superman ever finding out that they'd had said legal possession, so technically if I went and kidnapped him it'd be more like . . . salvage, maybe? Like, in the eyes of the law, I mean."

"Yeah, okay, in that case kidnapping your own soulmate might be less an ethics question and more a moral obligation," Dick says.

"Good point," Tim says, frowning consideringly as he pulls up his browser. "Do you think if I just do it as Tim Drake I can avoid compromising my identity?"

"I have no idea but if I were you I'd already be booking my flight and thinking up a cheap excuse to 'accidentally' flash a teen heartthrob superhero my soulmark anyway," Dick says.

"I am already booking my flight," Tim says mid-click of said booking. "Although, uh, flashing him our particular soulmark might require, like . . . third base, and I don't even know if he likes guys. I don't even know if he knows if he likes guys, he's like five minutes out of the cloning tube and like, I'm literally fifteen and don't know if I like guys, so why the hell would he?"

"Okay, yeah, that could be an issue," Dick says. "Hm. Wardrobe malfunction? Slutty beach day? Wet T-shirt contest?"

"I'm not above any of those options at this point, frankly," Tim grumbles, even though those ideas are all very "Nightwing" and not very "Robin". Technically he shouldn't be approaching this like Robin would anyway, because god forbid Superboy recognize his methodology.

Slutty beach day might have to be a thing, Tim realizes with resigned dread. He is really not comfortable with slutty beach day being a thing.

. . . maybe if he just gets lucky, he can catch Superboy having his own slutty beach day. Not to make any assumptions, just Tim's pretty sure if either of them were ever going to be the type to wear a speedo or low-waisted swim trunks or just walk around with their soulmark out in general . . .

Which, in Superboy's defense, well–his soulmark is already on file with Cadmus, so yeah. He might not even care if other people see it or not, considering that.

Then again, if Tim knew that a bunch of random strangers who'd wanted to mind-control him had all seen and taken pictures of his soulmark, he'd never wear anything that risked exposing it again. Like. Ever.

Possibly he'd just live and die in a wetsuit. Or coveralls. Overalls. Or just–whatever. Something like that.

. . . come to think of it, Superboy's costume is all one piece, isn't it.

Cadmus is full of assholes, Tim decides as he confirms his booking, then gets up to throw together a go-bag. He has no plan whatsoever, but whatever; it's a twelve-hour flight. He's gonna have time to think something up.

One go-through with airport security and a twelve-hour flight later, Tim has not thought anything up.

Dammit.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #dc robin #superboy #anonymous #rinfic #long post #wip: kidnapping your soulmate for fun and profit

[mysterycitrus]

i think every superhero / antihero is by definition attempting (whether it succeeds or not) to do good. societal change is broad asf but i think jason especially does want that…. he’s also extremely fucked up. when ppl say he is a complex character… its not just words. lol. he is complex. he wants the joker to be dead so gotham isn’t a helpless war ground and also he blew up a (empty) high school. he’s not mentally sound. lmfao

that’s a very fair point! because the idea of superheroes originated from an optimistic ideal in a profoundly cynical world (jewish artists during world war 2) the entire concept is inextricably tied to societal change — because there has to be! u have to believe the world can be changed for the better!

what makes jason interesting is that he wants to improve gotham, but has no interest in doing so externally to the idea of proving bruce wrong. why is this not positive societal change? because bruce wayne is crucial to the infrastructure of gotham. forgetting that batman exists — bruce wayne is gotham’s social services, its healthcare system, its support for unemployment and disability, its rehabilitation system, its only means of providing to its citizens. we can sit here and argue the legality of bruce beating people up but the core to bruce’s character is that he wants the world to change for the better, so no one else experiences the grief he has.

jason believes in the death penalty, no ifs when’s or buts. his core ideology is — the system is flawed, but if im in charge i can make it better. jason replacing black mask and preventing dealers from selling to kids won’t stop people from self medicating to deal with an unfair world in which they were born into. it won’t stop crime, because crime is the result of stagnant social reform and income inequality. there is no way for jason’s approach to crime — killing people expeditiously — to result in a fair system that can sustain itself and prioritise the safety of its citizens. that’s not something from rhato no. #69, that’s clear in the text in utrh.

when people compare him to a cop it’s because he is killing without oversight or fear of legal repercussions. many, many countries that have technically outlawed the death penalty (australia, canada, some states in the us etc) still have a death penalty because police can kill indiscriminately on both the streets and in custody. jason has been shown to act with care for others (in the lost days he systematically kills his tutors to prevent further harm) but that’s not what he’s doing in gotham. for every captain nazi there’s a dozen kids left orphaned cause he’s murdered their parents. id describe him as severely traumatised, and deeply in denial about how well he’s handling it. the entire gd point is that it’s him reacting to his death! he has been radicalised! he is advocating for regressive change!!!!! why are people so afraid of his complexity!!!!!!!!

#dc comics #batman #the ask and the answer #anti jason todd #ig? no more hatemail thanks

[cursedkeyboard]

Babies shouldn't grow up ☆ Jason Todd & GN!Reader (PT.5)

What does Jason do after he tries his best and fails spectacularly to keep his nosy family away from his kid? Make sure he is still your favorite when everyone starts spoiling you rotten, of course. [PART ONE ♤ PART TWO ♤ PART THREE ♤ PART FOUR ♤ PART FIVE ♤ PART SIX]

Pairings: Platonic Jason Todd & Child GN!Reader / Batfamily & Child GN!Reader

When everything was said and done, Jason explaining why he didn't want to expose you to more dangers by introducing you but also the reason why he felt compelled to be honest with you about their identities, the bats soon started to try and bond with you

Dick was the first one, as always, and introduced himself as "little wing's one and only older brother"

You giggled when Jason groaned at that, embarrassed, and Dick took that as a win

Dick's older bro charms 1 - Bruce's gloomy dad stare 0

After getting called out by you so directly and plainly, Bruce had been awfully quiet as everyone interacted with you

It wasn't every day he got called out for the worst mistakes he comitted

But he also was still reeling at the fact that he was a damn grandfather

Steph cooed at how small you were, pointing out how even Damian was taller

Which, in Jason's opinion, was totally unfair since you were only eleven while Damian was thirteen, going on fourteen, and had been trained for along time

Also, excuse him, only he could tease you

Dick would be asking Jason one and a million questions about how he'd been taking care of you, your education, health, etc

"Of course I– You think I wouldn't send my kid to school, Grayson?"

His kid, they thought, part giddy part dumbfounded

"Woah, woah, I'm just asking! Technically you're legally dead and the little angel over here doesn't exactly look like you."

Wow, for some reason that really pissed Jason off

He tucked you under his chin, squeezing you gently as you rested your head on his collarbone

"I signed the papers. I'm not fucking dumb, Dick, I've been the legal guardian for about a year now."

At that, Steph stopped trying to take pictures of you with her eyes alone and quirked one of her eyebrows

"Legally?"

"... For the most part."

No one said anything at that, it's not like any of them really followed the law, especially not the old man behind them

You huffed in amusement at that, making Dick and Steph's hearts warm up

Damn, not even an hour into meeting you and they were already feeling those fuzzy, soft feelings in their chests

Needless to say, it wasn't a casual evening but it wasn't what Jason had been dreading, not at all

There was no screaming about him being reckless, no one tried to take you away from him, Bruce didn't even say much

Damian was still a brat and tried to pick on you, judgy little shit, only to get the nastiest clapback that made Dick choke on his spit

They all knew he was just feeling jealous, like every kid feels when a younger, cuter child shows up in the family

Boohoo, Jason thought as he watched fondly as you and Damian bickered, the demon brat was never as cute as my kid

Bruce, despite his melancholic gaze and awkward nature, managed to talk a bit to the both of you

He'd tell Jason that if you ever needed anything, to just use his credit card, no questions asked

Bruce would always be a call away and with Cass slowly taking over the mantle, he had a bit more time in his hands when the League didn't need him

He'd support the both of you to hell and back, his own way of repenting, and all he asked in return was...

For Jason to visit more

Because he was still upset about not having all of his kids home for Christmas

And bring you with him

it was high time you met everyone and became an official member of the family, he already knew exactly where your portrait would go

And despite his hesitance, you wanted to be a part of Jason's entire life, not just a hidden piece

Jason could never say no when you did a terrible impression of puppy dog eyes

So this is how it started; the start of the bats spoiling the hell out of you

After a couple of dinners together, lunch, and a tour around the manor and the batcave, seeing all of their old and new suits, ("Tell me you didnt actually wear this." "Shut it, I was a child." "I'm a child and I'd rather die than ever touch this."), with you glued to Jason's side always, packages started showing up at the doorstep

At first it'd be cute and silly things like a plush of the newest Pokémon and matching scarves for the incoming winter

Maybe even their own merch, because they're all losers deep inside

Then it was Bruce taking over any kind of expenses you and Jason had because, in his words, he wanted Jason to focus on raising you instead of worrying about rent

–Not like he wasn't already using Bruce's money to pay for everything

But he still felt begrudgingly soft at having his dad care for him and his kiddo like that, though he'd never admit it–

And then Babs and Tim upgrading the cyber security all around your block in the chance of a villain attack or any creeps following you home

From Duke and Cass asking Jason to spend time with you for some bonding time to your entire wardrobe turning into designer and your school materials updated by Wayne tech

Fuck, you even had terribly expensive yet thoughtful action figurines from your and Damian's favorite animated shows

The brat tried to hate you for ripping everyone's attention away from him, for making Bruce and Dick all... gooey, but it was hard when you had Todd's knowing eyes and a developing charm that always cracked a smile out of him

Infuriating, like father like kid

But... he liked you, quite a lot

And, throughout it all, Jason was panicking bad

Look, Jason Todd was always a jealous person by nature

He never liked his things touched, never liked sharing his interests in case someone also got interested in it, and he was particularly possessive with the few romantic partners he had

So when your attention was suddenly split among all of his family, Jason felt a little upset

It's like when a cat that usually only likes you allows other people pet it

Jason didn't quite feel betrayed but... that childish fear of not being your favorite person was very real in his head

So he upped his game

Whenever any member of his family gave you a gift, he'd get something better the next day

If they took you to a cool place, say an arcade or the mall to hang out and get to know you better

Jason was already booking tickets to go to Universal and taking you out for nightly motorcycle rides

Damian was insisting on watching the new season of your favorite show?

Next weekend he'd have prepared the living room to look like a cinema, with snacks and popcorn, for a movie marathon

Babs and Steph got you interested in makeup?

Regardless of gender identity, you know Jason would watchevery YouTube tutorial known to man about makeup so you won't have to ask the girls about it

Bruce would grow all fond of you once you got past, but did not forgive nor forget, the things he's done to Jason and started interacting more with him

So once he's talking about how he learned multiple different languages growing up, during one of the monthly family dinners, Jason would already be Googling how to learn another language fast

And god forbid Dick messed with your hair

He was not above picking a fight with Nightwing for ruining the hairstyle he spent hours doing for you

Look, Jason wouldn't be as petty as to keep you away from his family

No, in the contrary, he really, really loved watching you be coddled and loved by some of the most powerful people on earth

Getting the childhood he had so desperately wanted

It allowed that restless part of his soul to settle knowing you had them looking out for you, always

But Jason also would always want to be your number one

Your favorite person

Your hero

You dad

Yeah, he could admit it now without fear, he's definitely your old man

How could he not be when he's cutting apples for your school snack and making sure you go to bed before nine?

Never mind his age, Jason even bought a grill so you two could barbecue on the rooftop, there's no other more dad move than that

So, after a few months of this real life sitcom, when you were both on the couch watching Pride & Prejudice (Jason's choice tonight), all cuddled up and cozy

You'd rest your head on his shoulder and sigh happily

"You don't need to do all this, you know?"

"Hm? Do what, kiddo?"

"Trying to one up everyone. It's funny and I'm not exactly opposed to being spoiled as hell–"

"You're such a brat."

"Shut up– but you'll always be my favorite, you know that, dad."

Oh.

Oh.

Ok. Wow. He was tearing up.

"Oh, fuck off, don't do this to me."

His voice would be a little wobbly as he hid his face in your hair, squeezing you gently in his arms

And you'd giggle and hug him tighter too, your face warming up nervously but no longer afraid of muttering that one little word that had been stuck in your throat for so long

You two were so, so similar in that regard, afraid of overstepping despite the bubbling emotions inside you, the overflowing love threatening to spill out

So much faith and trust, devotion, care, and adoration

And all it took was one sentence to make it all better

"I still wanna go to the convention next week, though."

And Jason would laugh, teary and almost breathless, and press a kiss to your forehead, feeling happier than he's ever felt

"Yeah, okay, you nerd."

Wonder who you got it from

That night solidified it for him, calming his anxieties and petty jealousy

Jason would always be your favorite person

And you wouldalways be his favorite little one

Nothing would ever change that

To be continued... for one last time.

#jason todd #red hood #red hood x you #platonic #gender neutral reader #jason todd x gn!reader #platonic jason todd x reader #platonic red hood x reader #batfamily x reader #gender neutral y/n #dick grayson #bruce wayne #batman #stephanie brown #dick grayson x reader #bruce wayne x reader #platonic batfamily x reader #batfamily x gender neutral reader #red hood x gn!reader #red hood x gender neutral reader #red hood x y/n #jason todd x gender neutral reader #found family #batfamily x gn!reader #platonic batfam #child reader #batfamily

[bitter-hibiscus]

This is a very shallow analysis BUT most of my followers are Batman fans and not Green Arrow fans so it's still worth pointing it out:

YOU ARE WRONG ABOUT OLIVER QUEEN.

Oliver is NOT ABUSIVE !! Here's why!

We as a fandom talk a lot about core beliefs of the characters (because DC writers can't do their job right) but here's the thing about Oliver: changing constantly is his core trait. Oliver isn't like Superman, who is inherently a good person since the beginning of forever. He's not like Batman, who figured out how to turn his pain into something that can help people. Green Arrow's story is about evolving as a person. It's about learning from your mistakes and doing better.

Oliver starts his story as a complete douche. Seriously. Just read Green Arrow: Year One and you'll get what I mean. He doesn't care about people, or politics, or even his own life, really. But being stuck in that island changes him to his core. He feels first hand what happens when you don't have people around to give a shit about you. He understands the need for community only after he loses his'. He understands the need for growth and kindness with time. And he keeps re-learning it.

In Snowbirds Don't Fly, which is essentially the only thing that makes non-GA fans think Oliver is abusive, there's three main horrible things Ollie does: He leaves Roy alone for months to travel with Hal, he slaps Roy, and he kicks Roy out. Those are, obviously, bad.

But here's the thing: Oliver learns. After Roy gets sober, especially after Lian comes around, Oliver earns Roy's forgiveness by being better. He starts vocalizing his lofe for Roy, he makes an effort to be involved in Roy's life. He's supportive and helpful when Roy needs him. Oliver learns to be there for Roy. He regrets kicking Roy out and hitting him, and is very explicitly grateful that Roy is a stronger man than he is, that he was able to pull himself together without Ollie.

Most Batman fans (and I myself am guilty of this) expect characters to never change, ever, because we're used to the Batman mythos, which can only exist if Bruce stays the same forever. But that’s not Ollie, and it will never be, because Ollie needs to grow in order to be written well. If he stays stuck in his ways and doesn't learn from being called the fuck out (even if he gets offended) then that's just not a well-written Oliver Queen.

#dc comics #ramble ramble ramble #oliver queen #green arrow #arsenal dc #roy harper #character analysis

[gffa]

Okay, not to defend Gotham War or anything, but I think I'm talking myself into liking what I see it's trying to do. Starting with some great tags on this post:

#i get why people are hating on it i really really do. trust me#but TO BE FAIR... zdarsky has been making it overwhelmingly clear that bruce is SERIOUSLY unwell right now#like it's been nonstop Horrors for him for like. over a dozen issues straight. with no rest or time to process. and he doesn't have alfred#who was a HUGE part of his support system not to mention the finances etc etc#iirc there's even a panel that pretty much outright states that this is more of an issue of control than morality#and that includes the choosing sides thing like the batkids seem more concerned w how bruce is going off the fucking rails than#just the moral aspects#anyway (via @clownprince)

#Batman#Bruce Wayne#REAL#REAL REAL REAL#LIKE. Zur En Arrh is a LITERAL Defense Mechanism going Malignant at this point#Not only that but throughout Zdarsky's run there's been allusions to illnesses and Bruce Not Having A Good Time#Not Having a Good Time and Not Having Time At All to take stock of the sheer What The Fuck-ery that's been going on recently#Because it's been a CONSTANT steam of What The Fuck-ery nonstop#And the Worse is yet to come if one considers the future issues synopsis and the ''I am a Gun'' story by Zdarsky#(At most I'm a little bit concerned over how Zdarsky will try to wrap this up‚ but that's a normal concern especially about Comics)#(Especially Batman Comics considering how often Editorial likes to... do things) (via @kaosvrow)

I agree with so much of the criticism of Gotham War, especially that the arguments for or against Selina's plans are absolute garbage by characters who should be making better arguments and that the other characters are being used as bobbleheads instead of actually giving them their canon personalities--and, okay, I will also point out that in the VERY FIRST ISSUE, Selina's plan gets someone killed and so I'm willing to extend some grace that the story isn't trying to push forward that either way is actually right, I honestly don't think it's about that. I think it's a story about Bruce Wayne's mental state, because Zdarsky's been building this up for awhile now, like the issue immediately prior to Knight Terrors? Shows us Bruce's mental state is ALREADY absolute TRASH right then:

Zur-En-Arrh was already leaking through the seams of his mind, he was already feeling the impending doom of everything he cared about being burned away, that his mind literally couldn't watch his kids being happy and together and getting along without feeling like it was all burning to ash.

And then Knight Terrors happened, which was one more thing digging hard, boney fingers into his trauma, and he handled it pretty well in the moment, but it's such a giant, non-stop pile of stress on a mind that is already damaged to hell and back because of his trauma.

Further, the very first issue of the Gotham War storyline? The very first panel, the one that sets up the stage of what's going to happen, makes a very clear point about how this is about Bruce fracturing:

And then on the very next page, Zur-En-Arrh is literally stalking at the bars of the cage around Bruce's mind.

And then Bruce wakes up and it's immediately more establishing just how worried everyone is about him because so much has been piled on lately:

Bruce hides his missing hand from his family, just like he's trying to hide how scraped thin he is right now, and goes out on patrol.

Where his internal monologue is all about how defensive he feels lately, how he feels like the years are catching up to him, how nothing feels right but this, making it clear that Bruce is hanging onto Batman with a death grip because it's the only thing that feels stable to him right now.

And all of this is in the first TEN PAGES of the first issue, this is our set-up, this is our foundation, this is what we're being given to understand what this story is about. Then Batman #137 happens and it's literally ALL ABOUT BRUCE'S MENTAL SPACE, that Selina's plan is the catalyst, not the driving point behind all of it. Again, I'm in 100% agreement that the Batkids are acting like cardboard cutouts because you will never get me to believe that they didn't notice crime going down or that they wouldn't be pointing out that Gotham's wealthy are just going to start making their security lethal in response or that the Court of Owls won't step in, that this is not a long term solution to giving these people lives beyond crime, or even that a lot of them should be agreeing with Bruce, that they don't get to decide who is an acceptable victim. But the story isn't really about changing up the way comics deal with crime, it's about even the Batkids are framing it in terms of how it's about Bruce. Jason is really the only one who seems onboard with trying out Selina's plan, but even his confrontation with Bruce isn't really about that, it's about all their baggage, their fight immediately becomes about how angry Jason is at the way Bruce has treated him. This fight isn't happening because Jason's a true believer in Selina's plan, it's happening because he's angry at Bruce and Bruce is in a shitty mental place, after all the non-stop horrors AND feeling like he's been betrayed by the kids who he thought understood that people being victims wasn't acceptable, and so he lashes out at Jason.

When they fight, it's not because they're siding against Bruce, it's because he's become unstable and dangerous. The why of it doesn't matter, it's not about that.

(And I'm actually okay with the way that fight happened because I can buy that, for example, Cass might be holding back against him, she's a stronger fighter than he is, but he's being ruthless because of the state he's in, while she might be feeling more cautious.) When they fight, it's not because they're siding against Bruce, it's because he's become unstable and dangerous. The why of it doesn't matter, it's not about that. Even further, when Bruce fights against his kids, he's wrong and biased, especially in the fight with Dick, who he thinks has a sloppy offensive and doesn't know darkness like he does--to which Dick just immediately cracks him in the face because, yeah, Dick Grayson does know darkness and Bruce isn't as untouchable as he's trying to make himself seem (because being Batman is all he has right now).

I think it's important that it's Dick who defies his expectations here, because this story is building off context of what happened between Selina and Bruce, that they were truly together for awhile, they were about to get married--Selina mentions that it the first issue, it's a major thorn in that conversation when she throws out how she doesn't believe that Gotham needs Batman anymore, it needs her.

She's giving him what he said he always wanted, she's giving him the thing that kept them apart, he should be happy, should they head to the church now? Saying that he won't because he wants to be Batman more than he wants to solve the city's problems.

The failed wedding between them is important in part because of what Selina's saying here, illustrating that both of them are bringing a lot of baggage to the table but also because of what else happened during that storyline, why the context is so important. Because that storyline dovetailed into one about Bane wanting to take over Gotham and he needed Batman unstable and distracted, which was working after Selina left him at the altar, he was a mess. But you know what was saving him at the time, bringing him back from the ledge? THIS KID:

Dick was the one poking and prodding at Bruce with jokes and warmth and care and it was working. He actually got Bruce to cry in front of him, to release some actual genuine emotion!

Dick makes Bruce more emotionally stable, to the point that Bane had to hire KGBeast to shoot Dick in the head just because he was so good at stabilizing Bruce--this is also why Dick's the one who says he'll go talk Bruce down off his moral ledge in Batman #137.

So, it's Dick that has to be the one to defy his expectations in the fight, has to be the one who breaks through Bruce's offense and knocks him down in what feels like a betrayal even when it isn't, because this isn't a story about who's right and who's wrong, it's a story about Bruce isolating himself because he's mentally fractured to hell and back, because he's not trusting his kids, he's still hurt by Selina leaving him, he's still grieving Alfred's death, he's run ragged physically and emotionally and mentally by a series of exhausting horrors piled on him, he's lost his family's fortune, he's not even living in his own family home anymore. (I focus on Dick here as an illustration of tying this back to previous examples of Bruce crumbling and important context that the storyline is drawing on, but Gotham War isn't really specifically about Bruce and Dick's relationship, but more about Bruce's relationship with all his kids, like Tim and Jason and Damian all have equally important moments. But it's a very direct example of how his children are a huge part of his support system and draw him back from the ledge of being just Batman and back into being Bruce.) That's why the issue ends with Bruce getting the papers telling him that the bank sold Wayne Manor to Vandal Savage, because it's one more thing that's stripping Bruce Wayne away from the character, and leaving him with nothing but Batman and Zur-En-Arrh. Gotham War isn't actually a story about a war for Gotham. It's a story about Bruce Wayne going out of control and everything is written to serve that. The characters' fights are catalyzed by Selina's plans, but they quickly become about Bruce's relationship with the characters. The narrative makes heavy-handed points about Bruce feeling like he's losing his grip, that he's hallucinating and talking to himself, that he is extremely mentally unwell right now. Everything Zdarsky's been writing (like especially the "I Am a Gun" storyline right before Knight Terrors) has been building up to fracturing Bruce Wayne.

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #selina kyle #gotham war #long post #feral gremlin length post

[brucewaynehater101]

I want Duke included in batfam family fics. being the older sibling Damian needs, relatable yet guiding. Tim being ‘Dukes robin’ and having lots of respect for Tim yet he’d also steal his slice of pie. Duke and Jason hanging out, and Jason appreciating how he never tries to lecture him. Duke and dick matching vibes (or as much as they can) when on patrol and somewhat in the family, and both trying to make their brothers calm tf down. Bruce trying desperately to not fuck up with Duke like he did his other sons, only serving to confuse and slightly alarm Duke. Alfred and duke being the only ones with more then *1* braincell.

he also has so much potential for angst of being a meta in a family everyone thinks hates metas, and people somehow forget him???

(I have more just don’t have the energy to write it all down)

Heck yes! I agree that Duke needs to be included in more batfam fics (and especially as a more pivotal role). I personally try to add him a bit, but I fear I do not include him enough as a key member of the batfam.

Duke is hella important and should be treated as such. I'd love to see more fics with him pissing off GCPD for fun. Just chaos and pranks against GCPD, rogues, Batman, and the Batkids. Also, he should he allowed to punch (or kick) as many JL members as he pleases (Hal was just the first).

Duke and Dick having similar fashion ideas is a cute idea I've seen in the fandom. I would also just love to see more fanart of Duke rocking some fun outfits for galas (especially if the galas follow the AU of Gotham being super weird with their social norms). Duke being featured on magazine covers, being asked to model, and being interviewed would be cool fanwork ideas to play around with. I've seen so many of the other batboys and none with Duke as a magazine cover.

Here's my ideas on how Duke could interact with different batfam members. Feel free to reblog if you have ideas yourself or think the dynamic should be different.

I feel like Duke and Cass would get along really well as chaos gremlins who get away with their shenanigans. Messing with Commissioner Gordon is a favorite pass time of theirs. For some reason, even when presented with evidence, Bruce doesn't believe that Duke and Cass would do the things they get away with. It's both impressive and annoying to the other batkids.

Duke could have a weird relationship with Tim. On one hand, Tim is Duke's Robin. The cases he's solved, feats he's accomplished, and respect Gotham has for Tim's Robin in general (for being Batman's therapy kid) are unfathomable. On the other hand, he's seen Tim walk into the same wall four times within three minutes. They both share a love for riddles, but Tim can be an idiot at interpersonal relationships.

For Damian, Duke has seen how the world picks up kids and spits them out. He's seen kids lashing out, how they merely want to defend themselves, and how fantastic they are once you get to know them. He's been angry and spiteful at the world too. For Damian, Duke's hella impressed at the kid's heart despite all the shit he's been dealt. Duke would encourage chaos, talk with the kid about how different emotions have impacted Duke's actions and life, and is an overall supportive figure. They can often be seen doing both wild stunts and "common for their age group" activities for fun (although the game Sorry is banned because of them).

Jason and Duke would probably have a complicated relationship due to Red Hood's actions. Their similar childhoods (as far as economically and location based) would lead to jokes and shared customs that they chat with Steph about (such as Creepy Toe Joe or that specific gas station or the phrase they say as they passed that one pothole). Despite that, they have different viewpoints on Bruce and murder.

Duke is probably one of the more emotionally intelligent and communicative batfam members. If Alfred is the sassy version, Duke would get a good laugh out of those remarks and the astute observations.

Bruce and Duke angst could go hard. Bruce is trying so hard not to make his past mistakes. Duke and his perception of Bruce (he holds Bruce in high regard) and how that affects their relationship.

As far as Duke being in a "perceived to hate metas" family, that could either be hilarious or angst. I imagine people trying to intervene or "save" Duke from the Bats would be infuriating and sad to see.

Duke could also laugh at the batkids' superhero friends and how they, even as adults, are banned from entering Gotham. Duke is free to live in the manor and come and go as he pleases. Any of the batkid's meta friends have to be snuck into Gotham.

#dc comics #dc universe #duke thomas #thank you for the ask!!!!

[pieheda]

So, I realized only after watching the Todd In The Shadows video AND the hbomberguy video that I, too, have caught James Somerton just making shit up.

I’m not going to cite actual video titles because he changes them all the time anyway so why bother, but he has one that’s about Angels in America and Rent. This is my jam, I’m a theater gay, so I watched them - and immediately felt like the main thesis would fail an English 101 class. The thesis was “people have the misperception that Rent was made before Angels in America, and why is that?” which is not a thing that people believe, actually. At least, not people who know how google works and can just look up release dates. I found myself thinking that maybe he and some friends were surprised at this, and he decided it was a widely held misperception. But I kept watching the video, and when talking about how popular Rent was when it premiered on Broadway, he said that it was taboo to even mention AIDS at the time.

That is completely untrue. I was an adult in 1996 when Rent was released on Broadway, and AIDS was no longer a taboo subject in the US. There is plenty of data out there to support this, but I think it’s particularly compelling that in 1993, the movie Philadelphia, about a man suing his employers for firing him upon learning that he has HIV, was an enormous box office hit. It won Tom Hanks and Bruce Springsteen both Oscars, for Best Actor and Best Original Song. The Oscars aren’t very daring, perhaps you’ve heard. They aren’t big on giving out awards for things that everyone is terrified to talk about.

In another video that is cited by Todd in the Shadows, I realized that I had ALSO caught James making shit up in that one. When I watched the video for Red, White, and Royal Blue, James said that all these straight women wanted gay romance without sex and I laughed and said “they most definitely do not want that”, because I’m a fan girl and I’ve seen AO3. No research needed to debunk that, most if not all women who knowingly consume gay romance absolutely want there to be some fucking. The only person who would complain about that would be some exceptionally clueless homophobe who accidentally stumbled into this movie.

Both of those things, when I saw them, made me shake my head and say “that’s just not true.” I even commented on the Rent video.

What I did not do is think hard about what exactly is going on here. My opinion of Somerton went down with each of those discoveries, but it wasn’t very high to begin with; I never have liked his presentation style, because of how often he talks down to the people he’s discussing or to his audience. But frankly, there’s a lot of content out there that plays free and loose with the facts or starts with a bad premise (“people have this misperception” with no evidence of that isn’t far off from “Marvel fans on twitter hate this movie!” followed by only 5 tweets cited in the article). I just accept that people lie on the internet, I didn’t expect better. I didn’t stop to consider that gays really should do better, particularly we should not lie to one another about gay culture and history, and ESPECIALLY not when claiming to be doing what we do for the purpose of uplifting gays. I didn’t google to see if there were other issues with him, because if I had I would have learned about him getting into it with Jessie Gender and wouldn’t have given him a view ever again.

We’ve reached such a garbage state that I overlooked that. Seeing everything he’s done all lined up in these two videos had a real impact on me. Todd is absolutely right that it’s abominable to add to all the misinformation in the world, and hbomberguy is right that it’s particularly egregious for James to rob from gay writers who don’t have the funds and attention that James does. But it’s especially bad to just make shit up about gay history and the current state of gay acceptance, particularly when James constantly had the perspective that it’s always bad and gay men always have it the worst. Most likely the “everyone hates gays like me especially” was a calculated choice to create an attitude of persecution within his fandom so that they would accuse anyone calling him out of homophobia. But misinformation about acceptance is ALSO harmful to our community. It’s harmful to go around believing that people are out to get you when they aren’t. The cost of damaged mental health is ALSO important.

And he coldly exploited that because there’s a stupid fucking app that is tailor made for grifters to make cash hand over fist by confirming their audience’s worst fears and creating new anxieties in them. It’s absolutely ghoulish.

#hbomberguy #todd in the shadows #james somerton

[silver-pieces]

she loves it

Pairing: dom!Wanda Maximoff x (afab) fem!reader

Word Count: 6.6k

Synopsis: Your secret arrangement with Wanda is getting harder to hide in front of the others. Wanda pushes her control over you to new limits.

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, smut (sex w/ magic, fingering, orgasm denial), spanking, dom/sub, consensual mind control, roleplay, heavy exhibitionism

A/N: Part 2 of You Will Beg. Shoutout to my ⚡️ anon for giving me ideas for our reader’s superhero name. Name idea came from her OC’s superhero name, Voltage 🥰 I’m so happy with how this turned out and so nervous to share it to the world! Reblogs & comments are especially appreciated. I hope you enjoy... 

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“You’re really killing it out there, Sparky.”

You shoot Natasha a look that says seriously? but she just grins and leans back, swiping her drink from the table.

“I really hate that nickname.”

“What? It’s cute, right ladies?” she insists, looking to the others for support. To Wanda, who has been sitting across from you all night.

Mouth suddenly dry, you down, twisting your hands in your lap.

From beside you Maria snorts and mutters, “sounds like a dog’s name,” to which Natasha makes a sound of outrage while the rest of you break out into giggles.

“Wanda, back me up on this.”

Shit. You look up sheepishly.

Wanda meets your eyes and shrugs nonchalantly. “I like it.”

“Yesssss!” Nat claps her hands in victory, but you barely notice, rooted in place by Wanda’s gaze. She lifts a bottle to her lips, not breaking eye contact with you until she has to tip her head back to take a proper swig. You follow the movement of her throat as she swallows, before looking down at your hands again. A tiny pulse runs along your palm, matching the spark you feel inside.

When you’re alone with her, everything feels perfect. You can submit to her completely, knowing you’re safe because she’s in control. But the moment you’re around her in public, you go back to that shy, awkward novice that can barely meet her eyes.

As agreed, no-one else knows about the two of you, but you’re afraid you’ll give yourself away if you’re around her for too long. She’s trained you too well, made you too damn submissive.

Like right now, all she did was look at you and say she likes your nickname, and you’re undeniably wet.

God, you’re so fucked.

“But seriously, the media has like ten different names for you. You’ve got to have a preference right?” Maria nudges you.

You blink. “Yeah, I guess Voltage has a nice ring to it?” You glance towards Wanda on instinct. Seeking her approval on everything is quickly becoming a habit.

“Well, it’s definitely better than ‘Iron Man’,” Maria says, making the others laugh again.

The conversation shifts to other people’s superhero names, and you breathe a sigh of relief to be out of the spotlight.

All the fame and attention happened fairly quickly once you got control over your powers, and it’s safe to say you’re definitely not a part of the stealthier side of the Avengers anymore. These days, your name gets mentioned alongside Captain Marvel, Wanda, and Thor.

You might not like it, but you've come into possession of a wild power - one that demands to be unleashed. Nothing else works; meditating with Bruce, stretching with Nat, combat training with Sam, running, swimming, boxing, nothing stops the buzzing once it starts.

Nothing, except for Wanda.

This morning, she stopped by your room and spanked you over her lap before the day had even begun.

Afterwards, she teased you until you begged and promised you’d be good for the rest of the day. You swear you can still feel the orgasm she gave you, the stretch of her fingers inside your tightness.

“Fuck me, who has time for all that?” Natasha scoffs.

You look up. “Huh?”

“Relationships,” Maria says to you. “You know Miss Romanoff, some of us can multitask.”

“Oh? And who is this lucky person you’re ‘multitasking’ with?”

“Hm, no, I’m afraid you’ll have to pry that information out of me.”

Nat leans forward. “Oh you know I could.”

“I know exactly what you can do, Miss Romanoff. I’ve read your file.”

“Oh, shit,” you laugh. “Have you got some kind of mind reading ability we don’t know about?”

She shoots you a grin and shrugs. “I’m sure Wanda’s better at it than me, but I have my ways.”

“Huh...”

Maria sets her drink down on the table and points. “So: I’ve got someone, Romanoff’s too ‘busy’... what about you, Maximoff?”

Fuck. You stiffen in your seat.

Wanda barely reacts, simply regarding Maria with a blank look. “What about me?”

“Oh, interesting.” Nat leans forward, eyeing her up and down. An unwarranted flare of jealousy sparks within you. “You’re seeing someone, aren’t you?”

Wanda shrugs. “No, I'm not actually.”

Nat doesn’t seem to get the message. “Ah ha! The only question is - are you top or bottom?”

Maria chokes on her drink.

Oh my god. You try not to squirm in your seat and give yourself away, ignoring the way your mind is racing. Nat is too smart for her own good.

Wanda’s jaw sets, a glimmer of steel in her gaze as she stares Nat down. “You do realise I could just read your minds and know exactly who you’ve all been boning, right?”

Nat slaps the table. “Definitely top.”

“Mm-hm,” Maria agrees.

Wanda’s steely demeanour breaks. She cracks a small, exasperated smile, and chuckles. “You two are away out of line.”

“What? Hey, we’re all proud of you for finally getting some!”

She raises her hand in defence. “I’m not - ”

“But if you were, hypothetically, then we’re all very happy for you. Right guys?” Nat gestures to you and Maria.

“Oh, of course!” Maria says.

You give a short nod. All that is going through your mind is the familiar sensation of Wanda bending you over her knee, her palm heating your ass, wetness running down your thigh. The feeling of ultimate submission - 

“So do you use your magic on them during sex?” Nat’s question interrupts your thoughts.

“I would,” Maria intones, sounding just a bit tipsy, “If I could. Really make them feel my power, you know?”

Nat nods in agreement. “Come on, Wanda, you know you want to share.”

You sink down in your seat.

Wanda’s gaze catches on you for a brief moment, before she looks away, folding her arms and sighing. “If I tell you some things, will you finally leave me alone about it?”

Nat raises her hand solemnly. “What happens at ladies’ night stays at ladies’ night.”

A knot forms in your stomach. You don’t know what’s worse - if she’s about to talk about you, or someone else that you don’t know about. The arrangement you have with Wanda isn’t exactly a ‘relationship’, but the thought of her being with someone else... your heart sinks.

She shrugs. “There might be someone.”

Nat claps and whoops and Maria leans forward in interest, while you just keep your eyes lowered, wishing you could be anywhere but here.

“Do you... use your magic on them?”

Wanda flicks her gaze to Maria. There’s a glimmer in her eyes, her head tilting as she considers the question.

Don’t, you think, but you can see it already - her demeanour has shifted; no longer laid back, but proud and powerful, and perhaps a bit cocky too. It’s like Nat and Maria have flicked a switch inside her.

She concedes with a nod. “I have.” 

“Oh shit! And they let you?”

“She loves it.” She says the words so smugly it sends a prickle down your spine, and she briefly glances at you before leaning back in her seat, chin raised and a smirk on her face. “She’s very submissive.”

Heat pools in your core. You bite your lip, holding back the curses you desperately want to let out.

“Damn,” Maria breathes, clearly impressed. “I’m jealous.”

“I thought you had someone?”

She waves her hand. “Yeah but not a submissive.”

“What about mind stuff?” Nat waves her hand around her head. “You know, like the shit you pulled on us.”

Wanda tilts her head. “Not yet.”

A thought flickers in your mind - your dreams. The vision of her, standing across the room from you, lit up by the red sun. You never asked her if she put them there.

Maria laughs. “Girl, if I had your power, I would be exploring the shit out of my fantasies. I mean, if you’re both into roleplay, imagine the possibilities.”

Wanda gives her an assessing look. “Like what?”

“Yeah are we speaking from experience here?” Nat adds, grinning at Maria.

“Hey, I’m just saying.”

“Saying what?” Nat prompts again.

Maria shrugs. “You could... make them say the things you want them to say, you know? Give them the freedom to actually live in the roleplay without having to, you know, act,” Maria says. “And with the visions you can make others see? I mean...”

Your eyes dart between the three of them, struggling to keep up. Roleplay with mind control? Fucking hell. The heat is flaring beneath your skin now, an ardent mixture of mortification and electricity. Your power buzzes beneath your skin in response.

“So how serious is this?” Nat asks, lowering her voice. “Are we ever going to meet her?”

Wanda’s smirk becomes fixed, and she pulls out her phone, as if to signal she’s done with the conversation. Her brow furrows as she begins typing. “I don’t know about that.” Your heart sinks just a little, before she continues, “she’s very shy.”

“Aw, cute.” Nat scrunches her nose.

“Bring her around!” Maria says with a dismissive wave. “I’m sure she’d fit right in.” And she nudges you, as if to say right?

You stiffen and nod in agreement. “Yeah.”

Nat turns to you as if a thought just occurred to her, her face alight with excitement. “What about you?”

“Me?!” you squeak.

She nods. “Your love life! Tell us all the goss.”

“Right.” You look to Wanda, who barely glances you way as she puts her phone away. “Uh, I’m not seeing anyone right now.”

“Yes!” Nat raises her hand to high-five you. “Singles for the win!”

You force a smile and slap her hand, somewhat amazed she didn’t see right through you. “It’s like what you said - I just get too busy.”

“You know you’ve got folks lined up though, right?” Maria asks. “Being The Avenger’s new darling and all. Voltage.”

You duck your head, just as your phone buzzes in your pocket. “I suppose.” You’ve never really thought about it, between learning how to handle your new powers, and your time spent with Wanda, you haven’t had the time or mental capacity for much else.

You check your phone in your lap, and lose your breath when you see it’s from Wanda. You open it under the table.

When we get back, I will find you in your room naked on the bed with your ass in the air.

You almost drop your phone. Instead, after swallowing your sudden shock, you look up, across the table, to Wanda.

She’s leaning back in her seat, paying attention to their conversation and ignoring you completely.

Slowly, you tuck your phone away, and try to ignore the sudden rushing in your ears.

Wanda takes her time.

At first, you debate whether or not to obey her instructions. This whole night has thrown you off guard and you’re not sure if Wanda deserves your submission. She told other people what she was doing to you, and she was smug about it.

You know you should be mad at her. Instead, you find yourself eagerly stripping down and laying on the bed after only five minutes of deliberation. Maybe it’s fucked up, but you need this.

She makes you wait on purpose, you’re sure of it. It’s a mind game she likes to play - a way to remind you who’s in charge. Your mind races, wondering what you did to deserve this extra punishment.

The room is silent, but somehow you can sense when she arrives, as though her magic reaches out to you on instinct.

Eager to be good for her, you keep yourself in position on the bed, completely still. Your naked ass shivers in the air.

Finally, you feel the skim of her hands over your back. A sensation of warmth spreads through you as she begins to adjust your posture; spreading your legs a fraction farther apart, pushing down on the small of your back, tilting your ass higher for her.

You bend to her will, loving how attentive she is, losing yourself in her presence.

She breaks the silence, her voice soft and low. “Tell me what you thought about, tonight at dinner.”

You’ve been submitting to her control long enough to know that she expects a quick, honest answer. “I was embarrassed that you were talking about me,” you say.

“Is that it?” she drawls.

You bite your lip, viscerally aware of the wetness growing between your legs. “I was wondering about that mind control thing. If we could... if it could maybe help me control my powers.” Honestly, controlling your powers was the last thing on your mind, but you had to scramble to find some excuse for the roleplay other than I just want to try it with you. “And... if you’ve maybe done it to me before?” you add.

Her magic twines around your wrists gently but firmly, pulling them together on the small of your back. “What do you mean?”

You swallow. “I sometimes have these dreams of you. Actually just one dream, the same dream, over and over. I meant to ask...”

She’s silent for a moment. “If I told you it wasn’t me, would you believe me?”

You nod. “I would.”

“Hm. Well, it wasn’t. At least, not consciously.” She sighs, tracing a finger up your thigh. “Sometimes, though, I think I don’t know half of what I’m capable of. Perhaps my subconscious reached out to you.”

Your mind races. If she did, then she’s been doing it subconsciously for a very long time. Weeks before the two of you started meeting like this.

She murmurs softly in your ear, “tell me the truth, solnyshko. Did I cross a line tonight?”

The hairs on the back of your neck raise on end, her low lilting tone brushing against your ear like magic. “No,” you respond. “I thought about it and I decided I trust you... I just don’t want you to tell them it’s me.”

She hums in amusement, smoothing her hand over your head. “That’s one decision I’ll still let you keep.”

You half-smile into the sheets, face pressed into the bed.

The mattress dips beside you. “You’ve been a very good girl so far. On my lap now.” Her magic bindings release.

Flushed with heat at her praise, you move to follow her instructions, placing yourself over her lap and trying not to keen too much when she strokes your head like one might a cat. Sometimes you think she likes to treat you like a pet, giving you one-word commands, praising you when you obey, forming magic collars around your throat. All in the name of controlling your powers, of course.

A hard spank jolts you from your train of thought, and you force yourself to start counting before she can scold you for being too slow. “One.”

“This time, after you count, you beg me for the next one.” She spanks you again, a firm slap on your bare ass.

The number comes out on instinct. “Two!” What did she just say?! Fuck.

You struggle to form the words. Heat flares between your legs in delicious humiliation, and you swallow down your remaining pride. “... please spank me again.” The words come out low and quiet, thick with embarrassment you can’t hide. It’s always harder at the start.

But she doesn’t say a word, merely obliging your request and heating your backside with another firm spank. The heat goes straight to your aching, needy cunt.

You tense your thighs. “Fuck... three!” And you bite your lip, rocking yourself over her lap to try and ease some of the tensing growing between your legs. The heat is enflamed and sore and unforgiving.

It’s the ultimate mental struggle. You have to beg her for the next one, because she’ll add more to your punishment if you don’t, but saying the words means you’re giving in.

You’re still struggling to find the words, when Wanda murmurs from above, “What do you say?”

A spark of electricity jolts between your fingers. “Just give me a moment!” you snap.

Then regret instantly washes over you as you realise. Fuck, you’ve disobeyed. “Wanda, I’m sorry, I was just - ”

She releases her magic from your wrists. “Off my lap. Onto the floor.”

You huff nervously, already cowed by the sharp tone of her voice, and obediently slide off her lap and onto your knees in front of her.

She cups your chin, tilting your head up. A beautiful, terrible goddess looking down at you kneeling before her. “You talked back.”

“I’m sorry - ”

“Ah ah.” She tilts her head, eyes glowing red in warning. “I didn’t say you could talk now.” And you feel a collar of her magic forming around your throat.

You close your mouth and look down in deference. And although you’re being punished, you can’t help that warm feeling inside you that glows brighter every time she exerts her dominance over you. You’re losing yourself in her again, and it makes you feel free. There’s no room for anything else in your head but her.

Her fingers creep up your face, pressing lightly against your temple.

You lean into her touch, her palm cupping your cheek.

“You said you wanted to try mind control, solnyshko. I think I’ll use it to punish you for talking back.”

Your eyes flare open and you look up at her, at the red glow simmering in her eyes. You want to speak, to ask so many questions, but you can’t, not unless she allows you to.

She draws in a shaky breath. “Remember, tell me if I cross a line.” The reminder is gentle, promising no anger or backlash if you do.

But all you feel is nervous excitement.

Keeping your eyes fixed on hers, you nod, and brace for her to enter your mind.

Wanda hesitates, her fingertips hovering over your temple.

You’ve put your trust in her completely, and she’s never been more high on her own power, yet cautious about using it. Mind magic is a delicate, dangerous skill to use on someone. To her, it’s always been a defensive instinct. To the Avengers, it’s a useful tool, occasionally a weapon. But to you...

Roleplay. Punishment. A million possibilities run through her mind, of the different things she could make you do, the visions she could make you see.

But none of them seem right. Your infraction is insignificant really, Wanda was just waiting for any excuse to get you like this. The way you had squirmed in your seat tonight, flustered and so fucking submissive, was an intoxicating, heady rush of power. She couldn’t think straight - she just knew she had to have you again.

So she sends tendrils of her magic into your mind with one path - to seek out your darkest desires and make them a reality.

On your knees in front of her, your eyes glow red, and your breathing shallows, as she invades your mind.

Your thoughts become hers, a rush of memories and emotions that centre almost entirely on her, on Wanda, her dark eyes and stern voice. She sees how you lie in wait for her every morning, how your eyes follow her during the days, how you dream of her at night.

A proud thrill races through her.

She clears her throat and pushes past that, to where she can find your darkest desires.

There are several, but one practically jumps out at her - a strong desire, one you’ve thought about recently. One where...

Oh, yes.

Wanda’s magic flares, and she makes your desire into a reality.

“Are you listening to me?”

You zoned out for a second, but, looking up at Wanda, everything becomes clear again.

Some part of your mind registers that you’ve entered an vision in your mind; a strange new reality all created and controlled by Wanda. It’s obvious, because you know for a fact you weren’t wearing clothes a second ago, but now you are.

You frown, trying to recall what led up to this moment, but the memories before this moment are vague, and a small voice in your mind whispers that it’s much easier to just accept your new situation.

The collar around your neck is warm on your skin. It’s connected to a red thread of magic that winds through the room and ends at Wanda’s fingertips. From behind her, the sun is setting behind a wall of glass.

It’s your dream. Only Wanda isn’t standing this time, she’s lounging on a throne, elevated over a simple stone dais that overlooks the scene.

There are people in the room, even though you’re caught in Wanda’s gaze, you can see them in your periphery, in beautiful dresses and tailored suits. The buzz of people talking, the clinking of glasses, the swell of laughter from one group or another, echoes around you. None of them seem to care about the collar around your throat.

"Come here.” Wanda speaks from across the room, but you hear her voice in your mind as clear as day.

The urge to obey her compels you forward on instinct. You mind tells you she is the ruler of this strange place - a dark conquerer to be feared, and obeyed. And she’s giving you an order.

Heart in your throat, you approach the dais. Some people give you a passing glance as you weave your way through the crowd, but no-one outright stares, despite the fact that you’re wearing a collar of Wanda’s magic.

You walk up the steps and stand in front of Wanda, hands clasped behind your back - for some reason, that feels like the correct position.

Her face is unreadable as she takes her time looking you up and down.

You try not to squirm beneath her gaze, but you can’t help the feeling that you’ve done something wrong.

Her eyes soften. “Relax.”

You open your mouth to speak, but find that you only have a select few phrases you can choose from. It’s a strange feeling, having Wanda’s magic in your head, dictating how you can act in this world. For a moment, you panic, but the words the line is there, in your mind, ready to be spoken just as she promised.

You force yourself to take a deep breath and remind yourself that this is all just an illusion, and from the context, you seem to be playing some kind of servant. This is your punishment.

“I’m sorry,” you say, speaking the words her magic dictates, and casting your eyes down demurely. “How may I serve?”

“I want a demonstration. Turn around and display your powers for everyone.”

Trying to swallow down your nerves, you give her a nod, and turn around to face everyone.

“Everybody,” Wanda calls, barely raising her voice, and yet everyone stops to turn and look. A hundred faces turning in your direction. You shift nervously, glancing behind at Wanda on her throne, as she announces you. “A demonstration of my little Voltage’s power.”

The way she says that name is so patronising, heat rises to your face.

A murmur of excitement runs through the crowd.

You lift your hands up to the ceiling, and, as ordered by Wanda, you light up the ceiling with your powers. A rush of electricity channels through your arms, and the entire room is bathed in white light.

The crowd looks on in awe, but you hear none of it above the thunderous waves of your power, travelling through your arms and out the palms of your hands.

It feels good, letting it out. You could keep this up forever, you think to yourself, letting your power flow out more and more. You don’t want to stop.

“Enough.”

Her command washes over you, and you feel your powers cut off instantly, against your will. The electricity dies off, and brilliant light fades, casting the room back in sunset red. You look at your hands in confusion, before realising what happened.

Wanda cut off your own powers with a single word.

Holy fuck. That’s just the vision, right? She’s not this in control of you in real life... is she?

As the fake crowd of beautiful people applauds her light show, you turn and send her a confused look.

She’s smug, sitting on her throne. Curling one finger, she pulls you toward her by the collar on your neck.

You struggle not to lose your balance as you’re drawn in front of her again.

“Good girl,” she croons, “your powers are beautiful.”

None of the words you want to say are allowed. Her magic cuts you off from saying them, steering you towards the approved script. You know you have the option to tell her she’s crossed the line, but you aren’t there yet. So despite struggling against it, you find yourself saying, “Thank you for letting me use my powers.”

And as you say the words, a pulse of heat thrums in your clit, and you can no longer ignore the fact that you’re incredibly wet. Knowing she’s in complete control of this, of you.

She shrugs. “I wouldn’t have, but I wanted to entertain my guests. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your punishment.” Her magic flares in her hand, and with a twist of her wrist, the collar around your neck flares and tightens. The little gasp you make is involuntary. “Some of our friends are here. I want you to entertain them for a little bit, then come back to me, okay?”

But before you can respond, you feel her magic somewhere else on your body. You realise, as her eyes are glowing with a hint of red, that she’s stimulating your pussy with her magic. It feels like she’s shoving her fingers inside you and rubbing your clit, despite the fact that she’s not even touching you.

Fuck.

Her dark eyes gleam viciously. “Can you be good for me?”

You shift your legs, desperately trying not to react. “Yes, Wanda.”

“Go, then.”

Your mouth goes dry as you cast you gaze on a familiar group of people.

Natasha, Bruce, Maria, Steve, and Sam, are sitting in a lounge area to the side of the room, smiling, laughing, drinking, and talking among themselves. And as you force your feet to carry you towards them, Wanda’s magic invading your tightness, you can’t seem to convince yourself that this is an illusion anymore.

Wanda thinks you're the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen, walking around in public with her collar displayed around your neck. Even though none of these people are real in this vision, it’s a deeply satisfying feeling, showing you off, as hers, for once.

She sits back and watches you approach your little group of friends. Her magic is slowly pushing in and out of your tight little channel, and rubbing against your clit, using the perfect amount of pressure she has learned from experience makes you come.

“Hi, guys,” you say, and you sound adorably flustered. Wanda increases the pressure just for a moment, and is rewarded by the sight of you subtly pressing your legs together.

Wanda makes Natasha the first one to acknowledge you. The spy gives you a friendly smile, her gaze briefly sliding over your collar as she scoots over and beckons you over.

You sit on the edge of the seat beside her, the tiniest furrow in your brow.

“That was really something, wasn’t it?” Bruce says, a gleam of fascination in his eyes. “I mean, your powers are really flourishing under Wanda’s touch. Do you think she’d let us see it again some time?”

You shoot a brief glance in Wanda’s direction. “I don’t know. You’d have to ask her.”

Wanda is unable to hide the smirk on her face as she listens in to your conversation. She’s growing quite attached to the thought of a world where everyone would have to ask her for permission to see your powers. And the fact that she drew this vision from your mind, that on some level, you’ve thought about publicly submitting to her control like this, is a welcome surprise.

She strengthens her magical grip on your pussy, pushing deeper inside of you as you struggle to sit still and engage in the conversation.

A quick peek in your mind, just to check everything is okay, tells her all she needs to know. The top layer of your thoughts are a steady stream of WandaWandaWanda and don’t come don’t come don’t come - 

With a flick of her hand, she focuses all of her energy on the most sensitive areas of your body beneath your clothes. Phantom hands cup at your breasts and lave at your nipples. A trail of heat runs down your behind, evoking the sting of a spank on your ass. It strokes inside your pussy and rubs at your clit, thick stripes of magic flaring up and down through your wet folds.

Sitting on her throne, Wanda waits patiently for you to fall apart.

You’re going out of your mind.

Wanda’s magic is setting you on fire and consuming you from the inside out, and you desperately need to come. But you can’t, not in public, and definitely not without her permission.

This is your punishment.

“Wanda,” you whisper, knowing she can probably hear you in this vision she created. “Please.”

“Did you say something?” Natasha asks from beside you.

Hot, lazy strokes on your clit. Wanda’s magic thrusting up into you. You force yourself breathe, and shake your head at her. “Just talking to myself.”

She chuckles and turns back to the others.

Wanda’s voice sounds in your head, a low drawl. “Do you remember why you’re being punished?” 

You desperately try and cast your mind back, to anything that happened before this world existed. It’s all fuzzy and distant, escaping your grasp every time you try and reach for it. It doesn’t help that your body is on the edge of release, and Wanda’s magic is unrelentingly exploring every inch of your skin beneath your clothing. “No, I’m sorry,” you breathe silently. “Please, I can’t - ”

“You will not come,” Wanda orders with a growl in your ear.

You whimper and turn to look at her from across the room, where she lounges on her throne.

Her dark eyes pierce yours. Slowly, she lifts her hand and curls her fingers. In response, her magic flares on your body.

You’re lost. The sensation of her magic laving, pinching, squeezing, spanking, thrusting, is too much. You stiffen in your seat, biting back a moan. Looking around at the others, you feel a wave of mortification at the thought that you’re about to come. They haven’t noticed yet, Natasha laughing at something Sam said as you shift and stiffen on the edge of the seat beside her.

“W-Wanda - ” you whimper.

Suddenly, your electricity flares. No, you think as you look down at your hands, but it’s too late. It’s vibrating beneath your skin, demanding release.

The dam breaks.

White beams of light jump from your hands and dart around the room, missing the people around you but zapping at the walls and ceiling above.

Blissful hot waves of orgasm ripple out from her magical touch, flooding through your body as Wanda stimulates your release. Your eyes roll back, the moan you’ve been holding back escapes your lungs, and you give in to the mortifying feeling of wetness seeping between your legs as you start to come, hard.

Then, just as quickly as it came, her magic retreats from your body.

The withdrawal jolts you out of your bliss. Your orgasm starts to fade, leaving a terribly unsatisfied feeling in your core, and you clench your legs together. The electricity pouring from your hands dies down. Blinking, you look around. Your friends are ducking down low in their seats, some looking at you in shock. “What...”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticing a parting in the crowd.

Wanda stalks towards you with a look of anger in her eyes.

Your mouth goes dry; guilt and shame washing over you. You came, the one thing she told you not to do.

“I’m s- ”

Before you can finish, she flicks her hands. Her magic lifts you up out of your seat until your feet are off the ground, and despite your instinctive struggling, you are suspended in the air before her.

She twists her hands again, and her magic flares, and your clothes rip apart, exposing your bare skin.

It’s just an illusion, you desperately tell yourself, but you’re already growing hot under the attention of the other people in the room, many of them openly staring. But it’s your friends’ reactions that get to you the most. As they recover from your outburst of power, they cast you disappointed glares, or simply ignore you altogether. As though this is normal.

You’re too shy for this.

You open your mouth to say the words, the line, but something holds you back. Curiosity, perhaps, or just a desperate need to feel Wanda’s dominance, the aching need between your legs ruling over your head.

“I’m - ” you start to apologise again, but the words are cut off in your throat.

Wanda tilts her head menacingly. “I think a well-deserved spanking is in order.”

Your pussy throbs with need.

Her magic flares, and suddenly you find yourself bent over the arm of the lounge, putting your behind on display to Wanda and the crowd behind her, while you’re forced to face Natasha and the others.

Just an illusion, you remind yourself, as you briefly meet Natasha’s condescending gaze, before looking away as a wave of submissive shyness comes over you. Just an illusion.

Wanda spanks you without warning.

You let out a high-pitched gasp, and clench your thighs together as the sting goes straight to your pussy.

“Have you forgotten how to count?” she snaps.

“One,” you rush out, and bite your lip, rocking your hips over the arm of the lounge.

“Too late, we’ll have to start over.” Fuck. “After each one, I want you apologise for being a bad girl.”

Your pussy flares with arousal again, and you think you might come just from Wanda’s dominance alone.

She spanks you in the same spot, and your skin flares with stinging heat.

“Oh...” you moan, the arousal in your pussy heightening. You need her to touch you there. “One! I’m sorry for being a bad girl.”

Spank.

“Two,” you gasp, canting your hips. It’s so hot and wet between your legs. “I’m sorry for being a bad girl.”

“Louder,” she demands, slapping your ass again.

Your eyes almost roll back at the delicious shudder running through your body. You make sure to project your voice louder like she asked. “Three! I’m sorry for being a bad girl!”

She keeps going. Each spank rings out a satisfying slap of skin on skin, the added mortification of being out in public only heightening your arousal. Murmurs go through the crowd, a few people returning to their conversations. A few times she spanks you several times in a row, and to your dismay, she tells you you’re only allowed to count them as one spank.

Despite your very obvious, desperate, pathetic arousal, you go untouched.

You apologise over and over for being a bad girl, for disobeying her, for daring to do something without her permission. You’ve never been more remorseful for your actions. 

“Thirty-seven, I’m so sorry for being a bad girl, Wanda,” you sob, tears streaming down your face. You need her forgiveness, to hear her call you her good girl again. You’ll do anything.

Wetness starts to drip down your legs.

Wanda pauses, and growls. “Goddammit, fuck. You’re so turned on by this, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Wanda,” you respond. “I’m sorry.”

She inserts two fingers inside your pussy without warning.

You go stiff, arching your back for her and spreading your legs as pleasure wracks your body. “Wanda!”

“You want my forgiveness?” she snarls, curling her fingers inside you.

“Yes, yes, yes, please!”

“Don’t. Fucking. Come.”

The order washes over you, and you groan as you realise you can’t physically come, not unless she gives you permission. But it doesn’t change the fact that she’s shoving her fingers inside your tightness harder and harder.

It’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to endure. You desperately want to come, but you need to be good for her.

Your legs remain spread. You’re not even sure if it’s by Wanda’s magic, or if you just feel compelled to present to her fully like this, so she can punish you.

The tension in your core is drowning out anything else. All you can think is Wanda’s command. Don’t. Fucking. Come.

But the pressure is too much. She’s too good, and you’re so close, but you can’t come without her permission. She dominates you effortlessly, bending you over and spanking you and bringing you to the edge with ease.

You break.

You go limp, let go of everything, and just accept what is happening to you. Wanda is in complete control of you, and there’s nothing you can do. You realise you should be grateful to receive this punishment, to be the centre of her attention.

More murmurs from the others echo around you, but you ignore them. Wanda’s fingers invade your pussy faster and harder until your thighs are shaking and your core is a mess of tension and torture.

You close your eyes, and take your punishment.

You’re not sure when exactly the scene shifts, but at some point, you notice that the sounds of the other people have faded, replaced by the rushing of water on the shore.

The pressure in your pussy stops, leaving you on the edge of an orgasm with no release.

Wanda is letting you rest your head on her lap, running her hands over you. The sunset across the water bathes you both in light.

You go to speak, but Wanda cuts you off with a hush. There’s a warmth in her eyes as she cups your chin, thumb stroking against your cheek. “Relax, solnyshko. You took your punishment well. You’re warm, and safe, and there’s no-one around but us.”

“Is this another vision?” you murmur.

“One of mine,” she confirms, a small smile on her face as she casts her gaze around the scenery again.

“It’s beautiful.”

She looks down again at you, a dark gleam in her eyes. “You’re beautiful. And all mine.”

You nod.

It’s not a question, she’s just stating a fact.

You’re calling.

Wanda stares at your caller ID photo for a few moments, the photo taken when you weren’t looking, looking down in shyness. You are adorable.

Something has shifted in your dynamic. It’s not just your punishments that belong to Wanda now, but you.

“You’re supposed to be radio silent,” she says as soon as she answers the phone, eager to admonish you, already planning punishment for you when you return.

“Wanda I - ” you stutter, “I...”

“What?”

“I need you to give me permission!” you cry out, sounding desperate. The sounds of an explosion echo through the speaker.

Wanda frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“My powers, Wanda. I need you to tell me to use them. I can’t...”

“You can’t what?” she prompts. “Use your words.”

“I can’t use them - I think you did something to them. Please, I need to help! The others are fighting.”

A dark wave of satisfaction comes over Wanda. This is wrong, this is too far, this is out of control, but... fuck. You really are hers.

“Okay,” she says. “Use your powers to help them.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. “Yes, Wanda.”

one < Series Masterlist > three

#wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch x you #wanda #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #wandavision #mcu x reader #marvel x reader #sil's writing #wanda smut #wanda maximoff smut #scarlet witch smut #wlw #lesbian #bisexual

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you WIP excerpt behind the cut, as promised, friends; 7k of kidnapping your soulmate for fun and profit. (and non-chrono link for anyone on the app.)

Tana Moon follows Leech over to the group, looking a little wary herself. Tim sizes her up in his peripheral vision, pretending not to notice her approach. He’s “just” found out who his soulmate is, so he can sell the illusion of only paying attention to Superboy right now. It’s not an unusual reaction. 

It’s a pretty typical one, actually. The fact that Superboy decided to immediately show him off to everyone he knows is actually the less usual option, in fact. Not unheard of either, of course, but still. A lot of newly-discovered soulmates tend to just forget about the outside world for a few hours. Or days, even. A few missing person cases that Tim’s been involved in solving turned out to be cases of “I met my soulmate and we just eloped/ran away/went on a road trip/holed up in a hotel room without telling anyone”. 

Tim had thought it was ridiculous at the time, if obviously preferable to ending up with either a dead body or a traumatized victim, but Tim is currently in the process of planning an ethically-necessary kidnapping less than twenty-four hours after first cracking into Superboy’s file, so he supposes soulmates just bring out most people’s less pragmatic sides. 

Though he personally thinks carefully-planned ethical kidnappings are an improvement on spontaneous weekends in Vegas, pragmatically-speaking. But whatever. 

“He showed you?” Tana Moon says, glancing Tim over suspiciously. Superboy’s face reddens this time and he tugs at the slash in his own suit. 

“He, uh, saw mine first,” he says. “Kinda got into it with a dude downtown and Tim here was in the area, and like, he recognized it, obviously.”

“It’s fairly noticeable as a mark,” Tim supplies helpfully, figuring he should be being supportive of his soulmate here, and also be shutting Rex Leech up as efficiently as possible. “And Superboy came over to check on me after the fight, so it was hard to miss.” 

“Sure it was,” Leech says, his face souring. “So then you won’t mind showin’ yours to–” 

“Shut up, Dad!” Roxy hisses, kicking him viciously hard in the ankle. Leech yelps in pain. Roxy is immediately his favorite, Tim decides. By far Roxy is his favorite. The dog’s kind of cute and Dubbilex seems decent, but definitely Roxy is his favorite. 

Her dad definitely fucking sucks, though. 

And as for Tana Moon . . . 

“You’re a tourist?” Tana says, just barely frowning down at Tim. She’s taller than him. She’s also taller than Superboy, because she’s a grown-ass woman and why, exactly, is a reporter even here right now? How is that necessary or reasonable? 

. . . admittedly she’s also taller than Leech and he’s a middle-aged man, but that’s not the point here. If Tim has to “no comment” this situation and figure out how to get either his parents or Bruce to kill a story, he absolutely will. He isn’t even slightly gonna hesitate there. He is gonna the opposite of hesitate, in fact. 

“Yes,” he lies, which might not endear him to Moon, given she’s a native, but is better than confessing to having premeditated designs on kidnapping a teen idol superhero. Especially to a reporter. 

Even if it is legally salvage. 

“I’m just in town for the day,” he continues. “I needed to get away for a little while, you know how it is.” 

“Sure,” Moon says, narrowing her eyes at him. “Who doesn’t.” 

“He’s from Gotham. And he helped the civilians get out of the area while I was fighting that guy downtown!” Superboy says eagerly, which is . . . odd, actually, and throws Tim off a bit. That seems like a weird thing for Superboy to be eager about, considering. Like . . . just very weird. 

“Well, that’s a Gotham thing, probably,” Tim says, putting on a sheepish Civilian Smile (#7). “We’re used to rogue attacks with area of effect concerns involved, so we get pretty good at clearing a street.” 

“You did awesome,” Superboy says, grinning excitedly at him. That is . . . still weird, yeah. Tim really doesn’t get it. 

Well, maybe Superboy’s just relieved to have a soulmate who knows how to stay out of the line of fire and what to do in a crisis, given how often crisises probably come up in his life. That would make sense, considering. 

“It was nothing, just a little light crowd control,” Tim tries, assuming that’s what a normal civilian would say. Probably, right? Almost definitely. “Nobody even needed any urgent medical attention. And you used your TTK really strategically and contained the guy too, that was much more impressive to pull off in a mess like that.” 

Yeah, that was normal civilian talk, he thinks, pleased with himself for managing it. 

Superboy turns pink, then grins again. Dubbilex . . . tilts his head. 

Normal. Normal. Normal civilian. That’s what Tim is. A civilian! Who’s normal! Very, very normal! 

Normal. 

He smiles Normal Civilian Smile #4 and pats Krypto’s head again. Krypto makes an enthusiastic attempt at licking his fingers off. 

Ew. 

“‘Light crowd control’,” Moon echoes. That’s what Tim said, yeah, so he’s not sure why she’s repeating it. Well–reporter, again, so It’s probably a trap. 

It’s almost definitely a trap, actually. 

Really definitely it’s a trap. 

“Sorry to just show up like this, hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he says to Roxy and Dubbilex with a smile, politely pretending not to be ignoring Moon. He is definitely ignoring Moon, though. Again: reporter. She may not be a Lois Lane or even a Vicki Vale, but he’s still not giving her any information he can avoid giving her. And he’ll just ignore Leech while he’s at it, too. 

“I invited you, man!” Superboy says with a laugh, shaking his head. “We’re gonna hit the beach for a while, go hang out. Just swung by to grab Tim a swimsuit I can lend him.” 

“You came to Hawaii to ‘get away’ and didn’t pack a swimsuit?” Moon says skeptically. 

“Yup,” Tim replies with the most placidly innocent expression he’s ever worn in his life. Nothing. He is giving her nothing. Let all her reporter instincts strike against mirrored glass and high-security privacy windows and come to naught. 

Moon stares at him in silence, clearly waiting for him to fill it. Tim doesn’t fall for the incredibly obvious bait and just keeps the placidly innocent expression on. 

She frowns. 

“C’mon, man,” Superboy says cheerfully, apparently–and fortunately–oblivious to their stand-off. He grabs Tim’s arm and drags him towards the front porch. Tim seriously doubts its structural stability, from the look of it, but tactile telekinesis is hard to argue with. 

The steps manage not to collapse–possibly also because of tactile telekinesis, Tim can’t help suspecting–and Superboy pulls him straight into the house, which is . . . not particularly well taken care of, no surprise. The furniture looks like it all came from a thrift store, and not a nice thrift store. 

Admittedly Tim’s upbringing might be showing here, but also the corners need swept and there’s random boxes of assorted Superboy merch everywhere, most of which looks like cheap junk, and a huge stack of mail and four empty pizza boxes on the coffee table and overflowing trash cans with random junk scattered around, and it’s just . . . it doesn’t look taken care of, no. Which is something Tim would expect from a teenager or two, and maybe Dubbilex doesn’t know how chore wheels work or whatever, but fucking Rex Leech should at least be capable of getting out the broom once a week. 

Assuming there is one, anyway. Tim isn’t particularly optimistic on that one, honestly. 

Superboy’s room is even messier than the living room, covered in dirty clothes and abandoned comics and crumpled-up papers, but Tim’s bedroom looks like a bomb went off in it so he’s not gonna judge. Anyway, that’s Superboy’s personal space, not a common area. He can keep it however he likes, Tim figures. 

Somebody should really sweep that living room, though. And throw out those old pizza boxes, too. 

Tim isn’t judging, just–well, no, he is very much judging, actually. Specifically what he’s judging is Rex Leech, noted asshole sleazeball manager with predatory business tactics. 

Fuck that guy, seriously. 

“You want trunks or a speedo?” Superboy asks as he lets go of his arm to fly over to the cluttered dresser. Tim turns seventeen different shades of red and nearly disassociates. 

“Trunks,” he says quickly. “Please.” 

“Gotcha, man,” Superboy says easily, and then all the dresser drawers yank out at once and dump out crumpled piles of . . . mostly swimsuits and super-suits, it looks like, yeah. Like, basically nothing else but swimsuits and super-suits and a couple of cheesy-looking Hawaiian shirts. 

Well, that might be one lonely, lonely pair of cutoffs sticking out from underneath the swimsuits. But otherwise, that’s pretty much it, yeah. 

Fuck, that’s depressing, Tim thinks. 

Superboy comes back over with an armful of swimsuits, just about all of which have the S-shield either printed or stitched on them. Tim wonders why the guy even has this many swimsuits, especially considering he barely has any other clothes at all. At least not as far as he can see, anyway. 

He also wonders if he’s gonna die if he wears Superboy’s clothes. Is that a thing that might happen? Because it really might happen, yeah. 

Also wearing something with an S-shield on it feels like just a little too much to handle right now, so Tim’s hoping for a basic black option to be buried somewhere in that pile. Given Superboy’s apparent fashion sense, it seems unlikely, but hope springs eternal. 

“Take a look, see what’s good,” Superboy says, dumping the entire armful of swimsuits on Tim. Tim’s just grateful he remembered to stick to just the trunks, at this point. 

“So you spend a lot of time on the beach, huh?” he says wryly. 

“C’mon, man, it’s Hawaii,” Superboy says with a sheepish grin. “And I mean, I look good in anything but wet leather is just not a comfortable fit, you know?” 

“I guess it wouldn’t be, no,” Tim says, giving him Civilian Smile #4 again. Superboy’s ears redden a little again, and then he leans back and zips back across the room to shove all his drawers back shut. Tim lays out the pile of swimsuits on the bed, since it’s right there anyway, and then immediately feels embarrassed to be this close to Superboy’s bed. Which is stupid, even if they aren’t platonics. They’ve just met; it’s not like anything’s gonna happen. 

. . . even if Superboy is a notorious flirt and totally shameless and–

Tim is just not gonna pursue that line of thought right now, he decides. Just for his own sanity and all. 

He accidentally knocks some paper off the bed as he’s laying out the suits to get a look at them, and reflexively leans down to pick it up. The room’s a mess, yeah, but it’s Superboy’s mess. It’s still rude to just drop shit wherever. 

The paper isn’t as crumpled as some of the others, and Tim sees a glimpse of color as he picks it up. His inner detective reflexively wonders what it is, and . . .

Tim uncrumples the paper a little, and blinks down at it in surprise. It’s a little kid’s drawing, it looks like. A sunny beach rendered in bright colored pencil and simple, awkward shapes all painstakingly but clumsily colored in and–

Superboy’s suddenly right back next to him snatching the paper from him and immediately hiding it behind his back, looking absolutely mortified. Tim’s confused, for a moment. What’s he embarrassed about? It’s obviously not anything he’d have drawn himself. It’s probably just something a fan or a neighbor’s kid gave him, or . . . 

Tim pauses. Then he recontextualizes just how much of the crumpled-up paper is lying around Superboy’s room and wonders, very briefly, if a bunch of STEM majors with delusions of grandeur would’ve bothered programming their custom-designed “Superman” with anything resembling art skills. 

So . . . maybe that is something Superboy drew himself. If Cadmus didn’t program him with the muscle memory or knowledge of how to draw . . . well, then he probably would draw like a little kid, wouldn’t he.

And given Superboy’s cocky, braggart personality and defensive ego and how all that paper is all crumpled up as if in frustration . . .

“Gift from a fan?” Tim “assumes” with Smiling Civilian Face #4, pretending to be oblivious. 

“Uh–yeah!” Superboy blurts quickly as he jumps on the provided excuse, though he keeps the paper behind his back. “Yeah, just–you know, just some kid gave it to me at a signing, whatever. Uh, bathroom’s through there, if you wanna get changed. Or like, whatever.” 

“Thanks,” Tim says, and resists the itching urge to peek at a few more of those crumpled-up papers. It’s just a lot of paper, especially if Superboy’s upset with the results.

He wonders why the guy draws so much, if he’s that frustrated and embarrassed by it. Maybe it’s a rebellion thing, since it’s something Cadmus didn’t want him to know how to do. Tim would definitely understand that logic, if he were in Superboy’s situation. Or maybe he’s just bothered not to know how and trying to teach himself to make up for the perceived failing. 

Or maybe he just likes it, Tim supposes. That’s an option too. 

Probably a less likely one, though, given that it’s Superboy. Not to be an asshole or anything, just it’s a lot easier picturing the guy assuming he should be able to do something and getting fixated on trying to pull it off than just, like . . . liking to draw. Also, judging by all that balled-up paper, it doesn’t seem like there’s much there for him to “like”, either.

Tim takes the plainest set of trunks with a drawstring waist, which are black and dark blue but still have an S-shield iron-on patch sewn onto their waistband, for whatever reason, and ducks into the bathroom with them. He realizes belatedly that said S-shield is probably going to rest right up against his soulmark, then feels like an idiot for feeling flustered by that idea and just sets his bag against the wall and starts getting undressed. 

He’s definitely wearing one of the spare shirts in his go-bag for this, he decides as he stuffs his clothes into his bag. Just–definitely, yeah. 

The trunks fit once he cinches the drawstring enough, but the S-shield definitely does rest right against his soulmark. Tim has never actually considered the sight of the S-shield to be, like . . . relevant or interesting outside of work, but he’s realizing that he sure does feel differently about it now that he knows his soulmate’s one of the people wearing it. 

Which is a little ironic, really, considering Superboy wears the S-shield as a branding thing or whatever and lets Leech slap it on whatever cheap shitty merch he can think of. Like, he’s probably the least respectful S-wearer there is. 

Tim pulls on a plain clean T-shirt and a short-sleeve button-down to go over it, figuring that’s beach-friendly enough. He should’ve packed sunglasses, probably, but he was a little distracted by his kidnapping plans and didn’t think to. 

Seriously. He didn’t think to bring sunglasses to Hawaii. 

This whole situation definitely has him off his game, yeah. 

Soulmate thing, he guesses.

Tim eyes himself in the bathroom mirror, mentally decides he’s being an idiot to worry about how he looks right now, and then grabs his bag and heads back out into the bedroom. Superboy’s changed into low-waisted S-shield-themed trunks of his own and flip-flops and nothing else, which does in fact give Tim an embarrassingly good and embarrassingly distracting view of their soulmark. It’s not quite distracting enough for him to miss the fact that the amount of crumpled papers strewn around the room has noticeably decreased, though. And there’s definitely more of them sticking out from under the bed and dresser and in the back of the closet than there previously were. 

Which is kinda cute, honestly, but Tim should probably not say that. Like, ever. 

“Thanks for waiting,” he says, smiling Normal Civilian Smile #4 at Superboy as he hitches his bag up a little higher on his shoulder. “And for the loan.” 

Superboy stares blankly at him for half a second, then seems to startle a little and puffs himself up. 

“Uh–sure, yeah!” he says quickly. “No problem, man. Anytime.” 

“‘Anytime’ seems pretty open, as an offer,” Tim jokes, because normal civilians make that kind of joke, and Superboy turns red. 

“Oh, uh–you know what I mean!” he sputters awkwardly, holding his hands up, which seems kind of a lot as a reaction, and then somehow manages to nearly knock over his dresser without even touching it. Well–that'd be the TTK, Tim guesses. 

It wasn't even that much of a joke. Like, lame suburban dad joke territory, that's all. 

“I do, yeah,” he says with a wry smile. Superboy finds a way to turn even redder and shoves his dresser back into a corner. That also seems like kind of a lot as a reaction, but Tim doesn't comment. Just seems, well . . . awkward? Unnecessary? “Are we good to go, then?” 

“Um, yeah, yeah,” Superboy says, clearing his throat and then zipping out into the hall. Tim wonders if he always flies indoors this much. “All good, dude! Let's head out.” 

“Sure,” Tim says, keeping the smile on. Superboy is still red, but floats along down the hall. Tim follows. Okay. They’re almost definitely not platonic, but Superboy clearly isn’t any more sure what to do with that than Tim is, so . . . small favors, he guesses. Like–that they’re at least roughly on the same page there, he means. 

Unless he’s just reading into things because of weird personal biases he didn’t even know he had, and Superboy is completely straight and just kind of socially awkward around civilians, and Tim’s just being socially pressured by the background radiation of living in a society that over-values romantic soulmates in comparison to platonic ones and sometimes disavows platonic soulmates altogether. 

He supposes technically they could be familial, rare as that is. It’s not like he really knows how he’d feel about having a brother. Dick’s the closest thing to one he’s ever had, and that’s just . . . not actually the same thing, obviously, even if sometimes he wishes . . . 

Anyway. It doesn’t matter. He’s pretty sure having a brother wouldn’t in any way involve this level of embarrassment and unexpected hormones and just general sexuality-questioning over every little thing. Like, that seems very much not like what having a brother would be like. 

So–maybe he isn’t straight, or maybe Superboy’s not actually a boy, or maybe both of those things are true, or maybe he’s just really, really bad at having a soulmate.

Entirely possible, under the circumstances. Tim’s not really all that good at getting close to people. If he got a little confused about how to handle having a soulmate, well . . . that wouldn’t really be a surprise, would it. 

Or maybe he just doesn’t want to have to figure out how to come out to his dad or Dana or the goddamn Batman. 

One or the other, probably.

. . . statistically speaking, the likelier explanation probably is not wanting to come out to the goddamn Batman. 

“Wanna fly someplace or just chill on the beach out front?” Superboy asks as he floats backwards into the living room. Krypto runs up and jumps on Tim excitedly, his tail wagging so hard his whole little body’s wagging with it. He’s a weird-looking little mutt, but he’s really friendly, apparently. “Krypto, oh my god, get off him.” 

“I don't mind,” Tim says, leaning down to give Krypto a polite little pat on the head. Krypto barks happily and wags his tail so hard he knocks himself over. 

Yeah, weird dog in general, Tim thinks. But again, really friendly. 

“We can go wherever,” he says. “You're the local, you know the best places to get a little time alone to hang out, right?” 

“‘Alone’?” Superboy repeats, his ears reddening again as he somehow manages to trip in mid-air and hits his head on the doorframe. Tim can probably safely write off the idea of “platonic” at this point, but is still a little bit wary of his personal bias interfering. Though . . . “Uh–yeah! Totally! Yeah! We can do that!” 

Yeah, Superboy really isn’t selling the “platonic” idea here either. 

Does Tim have a boyfriend now? Is this how boyfriends happen? 

. . . well, or a girlfriend, maybe. He still hasn’t ruled out the “maybe Superboy’s just trans” option. That seems like a thing that might confuse his sexuality a little, if nothing else. 

This is definitely not anything like any previous girlfriend-getting he’s experienced, though. Like, not even a little bit. He’s not complaining, exactly, because admittedly it’s actually a little bit easier going into a new relationship with a plan and a cover established, even if the plan is admittedly still in flux and the relationship’s “romantic" vs "platonic” status is still unclear. It’s still something he can approach like a case, which is much more straightforward than just floundering around trying to figure out how normal people work. 

And Superboy’s about as far from a “normal person” as it gets, so really, this is a pretty ideal set-up on Tim’s end. 

Hopefully Superboy feels similarly, though he also, like . . . is lacking some pretty important information there, so . . . yeah, that might be an issue. Bruce would definitely not have appreciated Robin telling Superboy he was his soulmate, though, and who knows how Superboy would’ve even taken that. Going in as a civilian is going pretty smoothly, though, so Tim’s pretty sure it was the right choice. 

Hopefully it was, anyway. 

“Cool,” Tim says, keeping up the placid harmless civilian face and thoughts and Totally-Not-A-Vigilante vibes. Superboy does a very bad job of pretending he didn’t just bump into the doorframe and ducks back outside, putting on a cocky grin of his own as he does. It occurs to Tim, briefly, that maybe Superboy has his own catalog of performative expressions. None of his friends really seem to, but Superboy is in the community too, so . . . well, it’d make sense, right? 

Also he does sell his likeness via a sleazy manager’s sleazy business deals, so yeah. It does kind of make sense. 

Huh. That’s . . . a thought, he guesses. 

Not a thought he’d really had yet. 

Just . . . something they might have in common, Tim guesses. 

Though so is being in the community to begin with, obviously. And they're physiologically about the same age and have similar coloring, though Superboy is–well, not actually mixed with East Asian, because Krypton did not have an actual place called “Asia”, but he does have subtle hints of that look, same as Superman. Easy to mistake for just being white, but recognizable if you know what you're looking for. Superboy would be at least half-white given Westfield's DNA, Tim guesses, but . . . 

Yeah, no, he doesn't even know how to begin to figure out the nuances of racial identity on a dead planet he knows next to nothing about, much less any potential experience parallels there might be for a second-generation half-alien immigrant with effectively zero access to their own culture, but maybe he could–

Right, okay, he needs to focus here. There's some fascinating stuff there that he can theorize about and investigate later, once he's kidnapped Superboy properly. The kidnapping is the current priority, though. Like, it is very much the current priority. 

Tim follows Superboy back out onto the porch. Everyone else is still out there, which is fine in regards to Roxy and Dubbilex and not fine in regards to Leech and . . . well, jury's out on Moon, maybe. 

Also the dog. He doesn't really know about the dog. Though said dog does run after him and jump up for attention wagging his scruffy little tail hard enough to wag his whole little body, which is sort of cute. 

Or as cute as a wet dishrag can get, anyway. 

Tim’s trying not to judge Krypto for that, since obviously he didn't ask to be born as the living embodiment of a wet dishrag, and anyway he's a really friendly dog, so judging by appearances seems like a dick move. Even if Tim kind of wants to iron him, to be honest. Steam-clean, maybe. 

At least take him to a decent groomer, if nothing else. 

“Down, you little shit, Jesus!” Kon says, scowling down at Krypto and trying to shoo him away. Krypto growls at him, which seems weird, then goes back to fawning all over Tim. Tim leans down and pats his head, figuring it might calm him down. 

“It’s okay,” he says. “He is cute.” 

“Whatever,” Superboy grumbles, folding his arms and inexplicably glowering at his dog. 

“You gonna go swim, or just hang out?” Roxy asks curiously as she comes over to them again. 

“Oh, we’re–” Superboy starts, but Moon cuts him off. 

“Want some company?” Moon inquires, pleasant and suspicious all at once. Superboy looks–conflicted, momentarily, and then awkward. 

“Um, well–Tim’s only in town for today, so . . . next time?” he hedges. Tim resists the urge to eye Moon. Can I just spontaneously insert myself in your first day with your brand-new soulmate? is incredibly rude, as a suggestion. And incredibly fucking disrespectful to boot. Like, what entitled-ass kind of thing is that to ask, exactly? 

How old is she again? Twenty? Twenty-one? He should look that up later. Well–no, she’d graduated college and started her career by the time Superman had died, which was a good eight or nine months ago now, so unless she skipped a grade or two in there, she’s gotta be closer to twenty-four, if not twenty-five or twenty-six. 

That’s . . . a thought, considering there is definitely news footage of Superboy kissing her in Metropolis. Like, Tim very definitely saw news footage of Superboy kissing her in Metropolis. And she was very definitely kissing him too.

In retrospect, that seems like something someone should’ve, like . . . done something about? Or at least addressed? And is definitely further proof of how fucking useless and slimy Rex Leech is. Sure, let the five-minute-old clone make out with a twentysomething reporter and hang out with her at home; all publicity is good publicity, so it’s fine, right? Sure. Why wouldn’t it be? 

Tim is going to absolutely decimate that bastard’s credit the first chance he gets. Leech probably already has terrible credit, mind, but he’ll make it worse. He’ll find a way. 

. . . though he’ll wait until he’s sure Roxy is eighteen and financially independent, he doesn’t actually know if she is or not. Roxy seems nice, she doesn’t deserve that particular fallout. 

“It’d be nice to get to know each other later, I’m sure,” Tim says before Moon can say anything, smiling Gala Smile #1 at her, which is a targeted psychological attack and not actually very moral to be trotting out this quick, probably. 

He has no regrets, for the record. Absolutely none. 

Moon narrows her eyes suspiciously. Tim blithely strokes Krypto’s ears, Gala Smile #1 flawless and unphased. 

“I’m sure,” she “agrees” frostily. Superboy remains apparently oblivious to the tension and grins brightly at both of them. 

“Cool!” he says. Oh, sweet summer child who has clearly never socialized with sharks, Tim thinks resignedly, petting Krypto again. Has Leech taught him literally nothing about conversational warfare, for fuck’s sake? At least living with your sleaze of a manager should be good for that, dammit! 

Then again, Leech is probably not actually competent enough to teach Superboy anything actually useful, so maybe that’s for the best. 

If nothing else, Superman could’ve taught him a bit of “bless your heart”, but apparently that’s not a thing either. 

Tim has a brief moment of dread that maybe underneath his personal list of performative expressions, Superboy might just be a straightforward and honest person, which is a concerning thought. He doesn’t even know how to talk to a straightforward and honest person at this point, after this long as Batman’s emotional support sidekick. How do you form a lasting relationship with someone who isn’t habitually using at least three layers of double-talk and constantly locked in on all your microexpressions, anyway? 

That’s going to be a weird experience, yeah. 

“Ready to go?” Superboy asks Tim, grinning brighter at him. Tim feels momentarily overwhelmed and just sort of . . . has to collect himself about that, a little. 

Or a lot.

“Lead the way,” he says, smiling at him. He’s flustered enough to forget to use an appropriately-planned smile, which is embarrassing, but Superboy just grins even brighter–which should not be physically possible, but apparently is–and reaches out to scoop him up into his arms and into the air again as Krypto lets out an offended bark. It’s totally overkill and not even slightly necessary. 

Tim isn’t complaining, just–well–

It’s really flustering. 

“Air Superboy up, up, and away!” Superboy says cheerfully as they float up over the others’ heads. His face is way too close to Tim’s face. 

Tim is gonna need a bit longer to collect himself this time, he’s pretty sure. 

“Do I get an in-flight meal?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. Superboy laughs, which is even worse than his grin, and then takes off across the beachfront with him. It’s another bridal carry, which is quietly mortifying but could be worse, probably. Maybe. 

Somehow. 

Superboy flies them straight across the beach and then straight out over the water, skimming them along just above the waves. Tim makes a briefly startled noise, reflexively tightening his grip on the strap of his bag. 

“This isn’t waterproof,” he says just as reflexively, and Superboy laughs again. 

“I’m not gonna drop you, dude,” he says. Tim actually more assumed Superboy was intending to either dive-bomb them both into the water or just dump him in on purpose, because that seems like Superboy’s sense of humor, but maybe that was an unfair assumption. 

He really is not prepared for how it feels to be held in close against Superboy’s bare chest and arms like this, even if he’s still wearing a shirt himself. The idea of possibly doing that while they’re both wet seems a lot worse. 

Yeah. Definitely worse. 

Tim should’ve worn long sleeves. And maybe a wetsuit. And maybe a few layers on top of that. 

Jesus. 

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” he says, barely resisting the urge to loop his arms around Superboy’s neck as the other hangs a right and swoops them back around towards shore. Flying over the water like this is a pretty cool experience, admittedly, now that he’s not worried about Superboy dumping him in the water. 

Well. Less worried, anyway. 

Camera next time, Tim promises himself, glancing back over Superboy’s shoulder towards the shining horizon. The sun reflects off the waves bright and beautiful, and the sky is a smooth and perfect blue dotted with sparse but billowing clouds, and everything smells like salt and sea and leather, which is probably Superboy, even without the jacket on anymore. 

Definitely camera next time.

“Definitely holding you to that, actually,” he says, and Superboy laughs again and brings them down in the surf just past the tideline with a splash. Neither the splash or the water goes high enough to soak Tim's bag, so he figures it could've been worse. 

Assuming Superboy isn't planning to toss him or anything before he can put his bag down somewhere safe, anyway. 

They both settle down into the surf and onto their feet, and Tim becomes very aware of how close together they’re standing and also how very, very shirtless Superboy is, and in fact the only thing between their soulmarks is the very thin layer of cotton of Tim’s own shirt, and if he leaned in just a little bit . . . 

Jesus, Tim thinks faintly, and forces himself to take a step back before he can make it weird. 

He smiles Generically Pleasant Civilian Smile #2 just to make sure he doesn’t look like a creep or anything, and Superboy grins excitedly at him. Tim allows himself all of two seconds to be overwhelmed by that gorgeous expression and their physical closeness and the reflection of the light in Superboy’s eyes, as bright and perfectly blue as both the sky and water, and then reasserts standard operating procedures and keeps Generically Pleasant Civilian Smile #2 locked in place on his face. 

“The water’s really warm,” he observes, glancing down at it. “Is that normal?” 

It’s probably not an impending supervillain thing, he tells himself. 

Maybe global warming or something, though.

“I mean, feels normal to me?” Superboy says with a shrug. Tim considers mentioning the average ocean temperature, comparatively speaking, or at least the average temperature of the water off the docks in Gotham. Admittedly, Gotham waters barely count as “water”, legally speaking, but that’s not the point. 

“It’s pretty out here,” he says instead, and Superboy grins at him and leans in. He’s pretty sure it’s more an instinctive thing than a deliberate one, just from the way Superboy does it, but that doesn’t exactly make it less flattering. 

Or flustering. 

“I mean, it’s Hawaii, man!” Superboy says, grinning wider before kicking at the surf. “‘Course it’s gonna be pretty!” 

Actually you specifically are possibly the prettiest damn thing that I have ever seen, Tim thinks, but isn’t stupid enough to actually let out of his mouth. Superboy, unfortunately, continues to be all warm and grinning and lit up by the island sun. Tim did not come prepared enough for this. 

“I don’t know, I’m pretty sure I’d be the guy who came to Hawaii and got a monsoon,” Tim says wryly, and Superboy laughs brightly. 

Tim really did not come prepared enough for this. Like, not at all. Not even slightly. 

“Guess you’d just have to come back, then,” Superboy says, grinning wider again and kicking at the surf again as he floats back up out of it. It’s–weird, a little, looking up at him like this. 

Well, not weird, just . . . yeah. 

Something like that. 

“Guess so,” Tim agrees, feeling embarrassingly flustered. Superboy’s friends can probably still see them from the porch, distant though it is, but part of him is still just considering very weird and dumb ideas like maybe tugging Superboy back down to earth and into the surf and just . . . confirming the little sexuality crisis he’s been having since breaking into the other’s file and seeing their soulmark in it, maybe. 

Just, you know, ruling things out. Making deductions. Going through the process of elimination. 

Kissing him, maybe. 

He could very, very much kiss Superboy right now. They’re on a gorgeous beach in the surf and under the sun and Superboy is floating in front of him and grinning as happy and excited as could be and Tim’s stomach is fluttering in a stupid and also-embarrassing way, and . . . 

He could kiss him. That’s all. 

“I mean, it’s a nice place to visit, right?” Superboy says casually, linking his hands together behind his back. 

“The tourism industry seems to think so,” Tim says wryly, and wonders what the “normal civilian who didn’t come here specifically looking for his soulmate to kidnap/salvage him to begin with” thing to say is here. He has absolutely no idea, because he actually has absolutely no idea how normal civilians react to superheroes. Robin is . . . not exactly an urban myth, necessarily, but definitely not a publicly-recognized superhero. He’s a vigilante that’s just barely allowed to operate outside the law, and not one with any kind of publicity or celebrity involved. 

eSuperboy, on the other hand, is not only a superhero, but a professional superhero. He’s selling his likeness and doing events and has signed a stupid predatory contract with a sleaze of a manager that technically shouldn’t even be legal, given Superboy isn’t even considered a legal person by the government. Apparently no one has ever realized that, though, or at least no one’s ever let Superboy realize that. 

Tim really doesn’t love that that’s a thing, to put it mildly. 

Actually, he just fucking hates it. 

Superboy laughs, and looks very, very pretty doing it. Tim continues to wonder what a normal civilian would do here, and for lack of a better idea falls back on small talk. 

God, his best plan right now is small talk. What is his life, even? 

No wonder he’s gonna have to take six months to kidnap Superboy, ugh.

“So, uh–this seems like a weird question to be bringing up this late in the conversation, but what’s your name?” he asks, because it’s occurred to him that he actually has no idea what Superboy goes by when he’s off-duty. He knows he doesn’t have a secret identity, of course, but there’s no way his friends just call him “Superboy”. Well–maybe his slimy asshole manager does, but otherwise. “I mean, if that’s okay to ask. Marks or not, I understand if you don’t feel like we’re there yet, given the whole superhero thing and all.” 

Robin knows Superboy doesn’t have a secret identity, after all, but Tim Drake is a normal civilian and shouldn’t act like he knows too much about any superhero in general, so–

“Naw, it’s fine, I don’t even have one,” Superboy says, for some reason just beaming at him, which is . . . weird, Tim thinks, but nowhere near as weird as that answer is. 

“You don’t . . . have one?” he repeats slowly, and Superboy shrugs easily. “Like–not at all?” 

“Yeah, everybody pretty much just calls me 'Kid' or 'SB', when it's not Superboy,” Superboy says. “Oh, and Knockout calls me 'Pup' when she's around but like, that's really just a 'her' thing. So, you know, you can call me whatever.” 

Tim stares blankly at him for a long, long moment, speed-runs all five stages of grief, and also discovers a couple of new and unexpected ones. 

Alright. Well, he officially regrets literally nothing about this impending kidnapping. 

“Oh, okay,” he says. “Um–sorry, I guess I just assumed you’d have a more . . . civilian-ish name too, I guess?” 

“I’m a clone, man,” Superboy says, looking amused. “The only other name I’ve got is ‘Experiment Thirteen’, which is definitely not something I answer to."

Tim discovers a few more stages of grief that hit with all the subtlety of a spiked baseball bat and makes himself nod as much like a normal person as he can. 

“Yeah, I don’t think I’d go for that one if I were you either,” he says. “Kind of a mouthful, if nothing else.” 

Superboy laughs, then grins at him again. He is actually doing so, so much of that, Tim’s realizing. Tim was really not prepared for how much of that he’s been doing, in fact. He just did not come prepared for any of that at all. He’s got some nebulous kidnapping plans, but everything else here–from the supervillain attack to Superboy’s ripped suit and exposed soulmark–has been a crime of opportunity. 

He probably should’ve done more research. Actually, he definitely should’ve done more research. He kind of just panicked and bought a ticket and flew right over, and just because Dick didn’t stop him doesn’t mean it was a good idea. He just–he should’ve done more research. Planned more. Not shown up without something concrete. 

Admittedly Superboy doesn’t hate him yet or anything, but this was just . . . yeah, this was not his brightest idea at all. Not even slightly. 

Why didn’t he do more research? 

“You really can just call me whatever you wanna, don’t worry about it,” Superboy says with an easy shrug as he settles back down into the surf, which, unfortunately, puts him back into kissing range and is therefore incredibly distracting. 

Dammit, Tim thinks, trying to beat his stupid teenage hormones into order. 

“Whatever I wanna?” he repeats. 

“Except for Experiment Thirteen,” Superboy says with another grin. Tim politely pretends not to notice the slight tightening of the corners of his mouth as he says the word “experiment”. 

“Uh, okay,” he says, clearing his throat. He guesses Superboy doesn’t really care what his name is, then, but being told to just call him whatever he wants to is . . . well, a weird feeling, maybe. “What do you do when you just want to be a civilian for a while, though?” 

“I don’t,” Superboy says. 

“. . . don’t . . . what?” Tim asks slowly, not sure if he should be dreading the answer or not, but–

“Be a civilian,” Superboy says. 

Tim’s running out of new stages of grief, he’s pretty sure. 

“Ah,” he says. 

Superboy–for a second, Tim thinks he looks self-conscious, but then he’s grinning again before he can be sure, and . . . 

“Why would I?” Superboy says, puffing up proudly. “I’m Superboy, man! Nothing else I’d rather be.” 

Given how limited Superboy’s options for anything “else” he could be probably are . . . well, Tim’s not sure what to think of that statement. 

He doesn’t think it’s anything good, though. 

Yeah, no, he thinks as he looks at Superboy’s too-bright grin and thinks about how he just said "nothing" and not "no one". Definitely not anything good. 

Who wouldn’t pick being “Superboy” over being “Experiment Thirteen”, after all? 

And what else would Superboy even know how to pick, if he thought those were his only options?

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #wip: kidnapping your soulmate for fun and profit

[klanced]

i just finally watched the batman (2022) and need a repository for my thoughts

anyway yes i know i am the voltron blog but you all must understand. and this is key to my lore. that i am an insane batman fan. i haven't kept up with comics in recent years but i am a total sleeper agent when it comes to batman and i've been waiting literal months to watch The Batman (2022) and i finally watched it last night and have been marinating in my thoughts since. and also my parents are tired of hearing my ranting and watching me walk around in circles.

ANYWAY.

-

cinematography

this is literally the best looking batman film in years, if not the best looking one ever. the color grading was like a balm to my eyes, especially after the slog fest that is some of the other superhero movies... even with the constant rain the city never looked washed out, reeves and his set designers made such awesome choices when it came to fluorescent and neon lighting... the DINER SCENE!!!!!!!!!!! also omfg the way they made battinson the Red and Black Batman like what an excellent color combination. i loved it. i need to buy some of the theatrical release posters post HASTE.

more than anything this movie was SHOT like a comic book and so many scenes looked like they were ripped straight from a comic book, like i could visualize the paneling and everything... so freaking baller.

my family wasn't super impressed but i think it's because they expected an action movie but No You Don't Get It. batman sees the world as a gritty detective noir movie but to everyone else in gotham they're living in a horror movie and that is BATMAN CINEMA!!!!

when the riddler was arrested i was like 'wait there's still 40 minutes?' and then i preceded to have my mind completely blown. i kept questioning what reeves was doing only for him to IMMEDIATELY correct me minutes later. literally, let this man cook he knows what he's doing. when bruce lit the flare i didn't immediately get it -- and then the little mayor's boy reached for batman without any hesitation. and then the crowd began to follow him, closing the distance. and then he began to lead them to higher crowd. And Then I Got It.

-

2. gotham

yes i'm devoting an entire section just to the city.

gotham city is one of the hardest things to get right in any kind of batman media. like gotham is Not Normal and that should always be something hovering in the background. but many directors just don't bother because gotham architecture is so fundamentally different from normal sensibilities that building lore accurate sets would be both incredibly costly and almost impossible to do. but matt reeves tried and the movie was so unbelievably better for it.

bvs gotham was basically just new york city and don't even get me STARTED on how futuristic minimalistic modern the nolan movies were. ugh.

but when bruce and alfred were in their penthouse suite surrounded by fifty layers of gothic style trim my dad verbally said 'are they in a fucking church or something' and like YES DAD! that's the POINT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! gotham is supposed to be borderline CAMPY GOTHIC like the city itself is not just a setting, it's a full blown supporting character. the city looking batshit is essential lore and PIVITOL to the world building that has produced a man dressed up as a bat to fight crime like you DON'T GET IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! batman is divorced from our reality but he is GROUNDED IN GOTHAM!!!!

actually side note i've been playing gotham knights on the PC and 1) the game is way better than critics gave it credit for and 2) GOTHAM LOOKS SO GOOD IN THIS GAME. THE LIGHTING IS CRAZYYYY. best adaptation of gotham city fr, i loved the arkham video game series but the panache. the style. it became so diluted after arkham asylum fr.

my one criticism is that reeves needed to make one more rooftop set it was so silly that all the characters kept returning to the same gcpd roof with the bat signal on it.

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3. plot

FINALLY A MOVIE WHERE BRUCE IS A DETECTIVE. i've waited literal years for this. i do wish batman had been a little bit more active/proactive in the plot, i.e. not strictly following with riddler's games, but this is also early batman so i'm more forgiving of his rookie mistakes... however in the second movie i expect him to be on his BALL GAME!!!! give me plot-armor-borderline-prescient batman PLEASE MR. REEVES I BEG OF THEE.

LOVED this adaptation of the riddler. using the zodiac killer as an inspiration for the riddler was amazing, brilliant, showstopping, spectacular. and they kept a little bit of camp in paul dano's performance which i appreciate. i don't think we'll ever go back to batman forever levels of camp, but that's okay </3

there was a nod to the character of hush in the movie (at least that's how i'm choosing to interpret it) but i don't think they could ever use hush in the future because they already adapted so much of his gimmick for the riddler... but that's okay tbh i don't think hush is that interesting anyway.

at its core the batman was a buddy cop movie and i LOVED that. jeffrey wright KILLED it as lieutenant gordon and the dynamic between batman and gordon was amazing. excellent usage of our favorite future-commissioner, you could really see they already had an established rapport but their bond was becoming even stronger... their conversation in the interrogation room was so amazing, as well as their scene with the penguin.

my one criticism is that alfred became non-existent after a certain point. also lowkey the lego batman movie did a better job at the 'bruce realizes that his trauma has made him reluctant to form bonds or deepen them because of his fear of losing anyone else' subplot. lego batman movie on top!

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4. characterizations

everyone and their mom has already talked about how this version of bruce wayne is more focused on developing his identity as the batman versus his identity as brucie wayne so i won't repeat those essays. but i will say that i have such high hopes for bruce's development in the sequel. like the way the movie ended with him emphasizing how he needs to become a 'symbol of hope for the city' reads to me as him preparing to finally re-enter gotham society as Billionaire Bruce Wayne and i am SO READY FOR IT.

but what i actually want to talk about is how amazing catwoman's development is. i love how much backstory they gave her in this movie. i will always love the nolanverse version of catwoman but you really learn almost nothing about selina in TDKR. but in the batman selina's is this fully fleshed out character. you can immediately guess what her life has been like. and her motivations in the story... the way she was prepared to run until she found annika... and then she immediately changed gears and focused on vengeance for annika and her mother... god, i love it.

cobblepot's character was also so, so good. you can intimately tell that he's a two-faced bastard who's spent years being a yes-man purely so he can climb the social ladder. i know colin farrell is going to rock the HELL out of that monocle in the sequel.

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5. hopes for the future

i know it's too late but i reallyyy don't want joker to be in the sequel. i unfortunately think that's more or less guaranteed though since they've already casted barry keoghan. and his performance was really good. i'm just tired of seeing the joker in batman media. (inb4 keoghan absolutely kills it in the sequel and makes me eat my hat). i don't really consider batman to have one arch nemesis, only that the joker has consistently ruined batman's life more often than all the other villains.

literally the one hill i will die on is that reeves NEEDS to include robin at some point. PLEASE. you can't have batman without a robin, he gets so lonely. literally that's all i want. i want battinson to become a dad so, so bad. you have no idea.

and (and this is key) robin must be a kid. a pre-teen aged 14 or younger. "oh but that's so unrealistic, child superheroes totally break the immersion" well I DON'T CARE. FULL THROTTLE ON THE CHILD ENDANGERMENT. let children fight crime, for the culture.

[okay, okay. make it a robin origin story where dick grayson is introduced and is plot-relevant but he doesn't actively patrol and fight crime and only becomes robin at the very end.]

introduce robin in batman 2, and then have robin be a participating older teen/adult in batman 3.

my incredibly indulgent ideal batman 2:

at least two years have passed (bruce is more or less settled and has finally hit his stride). he has mastered air gliding and now attacks villains from the rafters instead of just constantly walking out of the shadows. i want to see arkham-level combat So Bad.

selina is mentioned, but doesn't really appear (and there are no other love interests.

actually wait i change my mind about joker. joker can be included in the movie IF the red herring "main plot" is that he's using a circus as a base of operations (because clowns and circuses).

i say red herring "main plot" because the movie starts with a joker crime spree, so you think the movie is going to be all about the joker, but then he leads batman to his circus base and it turns out that PSYCH! THIS IS ACTUALLY A DICK GRAYSON ORIGIN STORY. because joker's base of operations is haly's circus.

batman is snooping around looking for evidence and that's when he comes across dick grayson, age 10.

kid dick grayson. PLEASE. PLEASE.

batman decides to visit the circus as bruce wayne. You Know What happens.

plot plot plot

COURT OF OWLS SUBPLOT.

bruce has to balance hunting down the joker while also protecting this little kid he pretends he isn't totally attached to.

this is incredibly indulgent because i have no idea how you would balance joker screentime with that of the court of owls. idk. that's what's fanfiction is for i guess c:

i have decided that over winter break i am going to rewatch all the batman movies from 1980s onwards so i can revise my Batman Cinema power rankings. i will create some kind of metric or spreadsheet so i can grade and quantify each movie.

hell i should also replay all my favorite batman video games. because those are basically just movies anyway. and i miss kevin conroy :(

thanks for reading. god i love batman.