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Dc Batfam - Blog Posts
Fucking LOVING this energy, yes, thank you, this is a great take on a classic trope!
Jason would be so frustrated. He's kept his secret identity, but at what cost? I can only imagine the ribbing he'd get from his team once they find out, let alone the other Bats.
Now I'm thinking of the next inevitable invasion where all hands are on deck and half the League is wondering why Jason is still dressed as the Red Hood and the other half is wondering if the Bats don't know that that's Jason.
My favorite fic trope is the "JLA meets the batfam because they arrested Jason as he was undercover and now the family is coming to pick him up" one, but imagine. Jason gets arrested by the JLA while undercover, and is brought in for questioning, but before any of the batfam members even notice that he is gone, Green Arrow walks into the interrogation room.
"It's okay, Superman, you can let him go."
"Green Arrow, Red Hood is a wanted criminal on the JLA:s most wanted list-"
"What? No, no he isn't, that's just Jason."
Superman stares. Jason stares too.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me, that's just Jason, my son-in-law. You can let him go."
"...your son-in-law is the Red Hood?"
"No? Jason's not the Red Hood, he is just dressed as the Red Hood. He's in a mercenary group with my son, he does that. It's pretty easy to dress up as someone who doesn't show their face for a job. Jason's no Red Hood, let me tell you that. Or I guess I don't have to tell you that, since you've already arrested him."
Jason's not really sure if he wants to murder Oliver or not.
Superman stares. Oliver raises a brow.
"So? Can I have him back, please, we have a family dinner today and we're already a bit late."
"...sure."
Jason gets let out. Oliver throws an arm around his shoulders as they walk towards the zeta tubes.
"I hate you, Queen."
"You're welcome, kiddo."
JLA does leave Jason alone after that, though, because every time they see him outside of Gotham, they just go "oh that's just Jason dressed up as the Red Hood again, move on" and Jason doesn't know if he should be annoyed or not. It does make his work easier, but at the same time, it somehow feels like an insult.
This would be tough to see, because on one hand, yes, if Tim as a familiar presence calms Damian from his immediate state of fear/aggression, then that is good and preferable to safety holds and restraints.
What's bad about it is using another child as a pacifier and putting that responsibility on them when there are adults around who should have some training in traumatized kids. They live. In Gotham. It's been years, it should be in the teacher's handbooks by now.
So, maybe this could work for the first incident, but if it continued, then it's not fair or right to turn Tim into a teenage parent whose education, hobbies, and friends are being interrupted by (and the implication that they're seen as less important than) his brother's episodes.
There's a difference between looking out for your kid brother at school and being their sole support unit. It would not be a healthy environment for either boy.
If it were to get written, I could suspend disbelief for light-hearted fluff or reluctant brotherhood, but I'd really like to see it done by someone with a good grasp of real life CPP and New Jersey school policies. I'd really want to sink my teeth into the complexity of social work and student accommodations for a student in both Tim (two-school-shootings-and-counting!) and Damian's (Tiger Mom Assassin) situations.
do you guys think considering the relatively small age gap between Damian and Tim (depending on the author) that they would have been in school together? because coming from a youngest sibling who went to school with older siblings, that would be really interesting to look into.
i’m imagining Tim getting pulled out of class because Damian’s thrown a tantrum and refuses to listen to any of the teachers and they need his brother to convince him to calm down, and it actually working because Tim is the only person Damian is familiar with and so will ever listen to. Damian having no interest in making friends with civilians so he ends up sat on the end of Tim’s lunch table while Tim eats with his friends. Tim getting bullies in Damian’s class to back off, and Damian scuffing his foot on the tiles of the school halls as he waits for Tim to get out of detention so they can walk home together like usual.
considering how strained their relationship was when Damian first arrived in Gotham, putting him in an environment five days a week where suddenly Tim is his only true familiar ally and he has no choice but to accept being on friendlier terms would be really fucking interesting. suddenly Tim is his protector, and although he refuses to let that effect their home dynamic, he does have to accept that at school at least, he needs Tim to be his older brother.
i’m back (not really just a little less sad) and after seeing ‘The Penguin’ i realized how terrifying Gotham can be because holy shit! forget the my family’s drama the rogues of gotham are scary…i truly pray that i don’t get involved with ANY of them 🥲
Sometime in Gotham:
Jason Todd [on the phone]: How did the Joker die?
Damian Wayne [on the phone]: Cats ate his face.
Jason Todd: Damian, I think you’re confused. I’m asking about the Joker.
Damian Wayne: Cats ate his face.
Jason Todd: Look, would you just put Dick or Tim on the phone?
Dick Grayson: Hello?
Jason Todd: Dick, what happened to the Joker?
Dick Grayson: Cats ate his face. Here, Damian knows more about it than I do.
(Source: Malcolm in the Middle)
More BatMimikyu & Cat!BatBlob.
What’s inside of BatMimikyu’s wings? It’s a blob!
Three Mimikyu thinks BatMimikyu is a Mom. So they’re following him around.
BatMimikyu keeps the eggs safe from danger. (These three eggs are cloned red, black and white.) and one is mixed. (Colorful) and last is BatMimikyu with glitter egg.
Lord BatBlob is injured badly by owner. (Lord Superman.) He was abusing him. Poor little bat.
Martha is a Cat
Bruce is a Cat/Bat hybrid
Tim, slightly drunk: I told you all that I lost my spleen, but I actually know exactly where it is, because Ra’s keeps it in a jar on his bedside table.
Jason, also drunk: THATS WHAT THAT IS?!?!
Tim: you’ve seen it? HOW HAVE YOU SEEN IT?!
Jason: I had to take Damian to visit Talia at the league!
Tim: AND YOU ENDED UP IN RA’S BEDROOM?
Jason: every time I go there I put an assortment of miscellaneous vegetables in his bedding to convince him he’s going insane.
Tim:
Tim: that’s actually kinda cool.
Jason: it’s the only thing that makes escourting the kid back and forth worth it.
Damian, twelve, Tim and Jason’s designated driver of the evening: I swear mother has assigned you to me like some sort of service dog, Todd.
Jason, nodding: or personal uber.
Tim: come to think of it I have seen you lay your head on him whenever you think he’s anxious-
Jason: HE SAYS IT HELPS-!
Damian: -fucking stay out of it, Drake!
Tim: aight damn
Jason, trying to intimidate Tim: you think you can escape me? in the league of assasins they used to call me the executioner. do you know how fucked up you have to be to get an organisation of assassins to give you a murder-centric title?!?! DO YOU?!?!?
Tim, eyes wide: dude i didn’t realise they were your waffles i’m sorry-
Damian in the doorway: they were MY waffles that Todd stole from ME.
Jason:
Tim:
Damian: and for the record nobody called you ‘the executioner’. most of us called you ‘pebbles’ because after you were brought out of the pit we kept finding you throwing pebbles into the pond in the courtyard
Tim, fighting a smirk: …pebbles?
Jason, to Tim: i will slam you up against this wall.
Damian, humming: he does have a strong arm. all that pebble throwing practice.
Jason: OK I WILL CALL YOUR MOTHER-
(jason totally taught damian how to skip rocks instead of training him one morning and damian would rather die than admit its one of his favourite memories)
biggest blorbo of the present vs the blorbo of the century (month ago)
wip . torment that autistic man jaybin
happy late valentines! its still february so i think this counts!
this is my first tim doodle.. worth it
dc vs discofang
dink & matban
read mark waid's year 1 robin,,, peak
doodle based on @tarta-de-limon's damian miku liker headcanon:-)
jason the public librarian..... he boggled my mind
[img desc has all the tiny text!!]
face references for everyone!
something something finishing the job
beh!
I counter this with the idea of Tim positively LOVING it and rubbing it in everyone’s noses!!!
Oh boohoo Jason hasn’t talked to you in days ? He just sent me a bird pic for the third time this hour! Get fucked!
Or even
Of course Jason loves me? I’m his favorite? He sends me birds all the time?
And just walks out without explanation
Jason sending Tim pictures of cardinals with the caption “this u” after he becomes red robin. like, every time he sees a cardinal (which is surprisingly often) he takes a pic and sends it to him.
One day Tim gets sick of the spamming so he just sends a video of a trash can exploding and goes “this u”
absolutely obsessed with Jason and Tim being the family psychologists that spend 90% of their time together just getting into long debates and discussions about the personalities and mental issues of everybody in the family. they will meet up at Jason’s apartment twice a week for takeout and a 2 hour conversation on how Damian might be so obsessed with the Robin mantle because the dynamics of the league make him think that family should be a business and if he cant work as a vigilante he’ll be abandoned. every stakeout they do together ends up with them getting distracted talking about Dick and his obsession with red heads. they’ve let multiple people go during these stakeouts bcs they’ve gotten side tracked when they then start discussing if Jason’s childhood issues and strained relationship with Dick somehow influenced HIM to befriending Dick’s old pals so often, and they get so fascinatingly into it that the guy they were waiting for just. slipped right by them.
nothing is off limits between these two when they start talking about mental health and family issues. they’ll compare Tim’s abandonment-independence from the Drakes to Jason’s caretaker habits from his dug addicted mother. there have been 3 hour phone call conversations about the loa and how it fucked with Jason’s perception of Bruce that then get turned into 4 hour face to face discussions about how Tim’s opinion of Bruce rapidly declined because of Jason’s death and how he handled it. they rehash how Bruce has effected every single bat child about 12 times and they still never get tired of it.
it’s not even about therapy or coming to terms with trauma. these two bitches just love dissecting family drama and psychology within the Waynes. every now and then during dinner somebody will make a fairly casual remark that has nothing to do with anything and Jason and Tim will make eye contact across the table because they KNOW they’ll be tearing that apart at a later date. what I’m saying is english-enthusiast Jason Todd and stalker-genius Timothy Drake are 100% the gossip scientists of the family, and the Waynes are their lab rats being observed for their own entertainment
as much as i love angst i do also adore familial league of assassins shit, and since i keep seeing them on my tiktok fyp i cant stop thinking about those videos of idiot teenagers in military training being. teenagers. and thinking of jason and damian. just those two having weird little gimmicks and traditions that confuse the absolute fuck out of the rest of the family from their time at the league.
damian will refer to grapes as ‘assassination implements’ because of that time jason tried to throw one at him, missed, hit ra’s in the back of the head, and to avoid getting out of trouble gaslit him into believing it must have been some kind of dart that hit him from a coup attempt. ra’s went into lockdown and had the entire base searched and jason’s been lying about it for a year, nodding along whenever ra’s brings up the ‘irritating failure that escaped capture’.
nanda parbat had a specific bar that a lot of the assassins would go to when off-duty for a break, but damian wasn’t allowed because talia said he was too young so jason and a couple other loa workers dressed him up in fake facial hair and convinced the bartender he was just a really short old guy to get him in, and since then whenever they talk about something damian’s done that he wasn’t supposed to do they say it was ‘old man brutus’ that did it. bruce has no idea who the fuck brutus is or why two of his sons find his existence so amusing.
whenever the assassins were fucking around on loa grounds they would have a specific low-down gravely tone of voice that when any of them saw talia or ra’s approach, they would use to warn the rest of the group by saying ‘al ghul’ in that tone to indicate everyone had to straighten up and act like they were training. damian can copy that tone perfectly, and will use that voice when saying non-sensical words like ‘ooby-dooby’ and ‘birch tree’ because the tone makes jason instinctively straight up and whirl around like a soldier hearing the word ‘sergeant’. it works every fucking time.
one of damian’s tutors and jason’s mission colleague hated coconut milk with a fucking passion and would rant about it every time it was brought up in conversation. a lot of the guys would take bets on how long she could go talking about it and then purposely brought it up to set her off as a game. every time anyone around the loa base was seen with coconut milk somebody would respond ‘what would eden say if she saw you with that?’. tim dick and bruce do not know who eden is or why they hate coconut milk and at this point they’re too scared to ask.
all im saying is the loa becomes much funnier if we consider it just to be a very strict assassin boarding school that jason attended and damian grew up in.
Bro i started reading into the origins of Batman and its creation and it’s actually pissing me off. Fuck Bob Kane. Like genuinely. BATMAN WAS NOT HIS I DONT FUCKING CARE
I think we should have the Batfamily treat the batarangs like business cards. For both branding and comedic purposes. I’ve only really seen the bats having personal batarangs a few times. Like yeah, they all usually use the company provided stock batarangs, but they also have their own personal ones that they use if they really need to send a message of who threw it. (Or pass the blame for throwing it by using someone else’s).
Imagine a league member meeting some random Batfamily member for the first time and asking for an autograph and then they pull out a business card holder filled with batarangs. I’d imagine Steph doing that (they’re pre-signed and have an professional looking address that leads to a Waffle House), and when questioned she’d just say “It’s important to make a good impression when making connections and a good business card can help keep you in people’s mind” just quoting something Bruce probably told her once.
Here’s some ideas on how I think they could look. Obviously Batman has the stock batarangs along with all the evolutions it’s gone through over the years, nightwing has his Wingdings, but the one that can drive personalized rangs home are the Robin disks, because it feels like it’s really back and forth whether robins have their own designed rangs or just use the bat ones. Spoiler and signal could use purple and yellow ones, and I imagine red hood uses the red bat emblem on his chest. Orphan’s could look like stock batarangs at first glance but upon close inspection you’d find the stitched mouth design embossed or engraved in it. Red Robin I feel like would either keep using Robin disks but red or he’d redesign them using his “double R” logo.
I got nothing for the extended Batfamily since I haven’t read pretty much anything with them but off the top of my head I’d imagine Kate using batarangs that are outlined with red like her hair.
jason: i think we should get a divorce
steph: what are you doing?
jason: just practicing
steph: why are you already planning your hypothetical divorce?
jason: i don't know. i'm getting old, i think i'm having a mid-life crisis
steph: you don't even have a girlfriend
jason: hypothetically divorce me
steph: okay, then i'm hypothetically taking half your assets
jason: well, you didn't sign the hypothetical prenup
jason, to duke: it's called a prenup, right?
duke: yeah, it's a prenup, and you DID hypothetically sign one
steph: who the fuck is this guy?
duke: i'm his hypothetical lawyer in this divorce case
steph: well, then, i'm taking the hypothetical kids
steph, to tim: right? we can get those, right?
tim: yes, we can definitely get the hypothetical kids, don't worry about it
jason: who the fuck is this hypothetical fucking idiot? a hella fucking nerd idiot
tim: wow, that is a lot of hypothetical insults. i need to keep these on for continuity because i look like the other lawyer
steph: this is MY hypothetical lawyer, and we have been hypothetically sleeping with each other
jason: how could you hypothetically do this to me?!
steph: because you hypothetically are an alcoholic!
Lone Warrior
summary : reader is put into emergency foster care after a tragedy , despite living with the Wayne family for a bit , reader takes it upon herself to move away and start anew since she clearly wasn't welcomed , after many years have passed Damian finally joins the family and after a particular spat w his father he finds himself in reader's room and an interest in them has sparked.
a/n : this story is a wip ( work in process )
part 2 , part 3
Reader's POV
Beginning
Everyone knows biologically , a child needs a father and mother to come into existence . Growing up I had exactly that , a mother and a father . I had what many would consider a good childhood , a mom who brushed my hair everyday before I went to school , a mother who would have prepared meals and would have read me several stories . I had a father who would pick me up everyday and let me get a treat from the nearby parlor everyday after school. We certainly weren’t rich but we had enough to make do and I was content with it - I was content with my life until life struck.
My mother got laid off from her job - it was some run down mill cashier job at an old mechanics pit stop but it brought in money no matter how grimy the place was . I remember my younger self sat in front of the television when it was broadcasted - Joker , Prince of Gotham held three hostages at gunpoint in the shops and sadly despite Batman’s efforts , one hostage suffered a car falling onto their legs - crushing them instantly - the news anchor panned their camera onto the car and how it’s green front bumper was smeared in crimson blood.
Since then mom had been home while father went to work . It was fun at first , we had dinner earlier than usual , mom started back sewing and she even took up gardening since she loved planting tomatoes in our backyard garden . Everything was good but gradually - mom began feeling trapped like a bird in a cage . It started off slow - mum and dad arguing every night after dinner , sneering at each other as they walked past one another . It evolved into dad sleeping on the couch and mom sleeping in their bed . I was young and too naive - I assumed like the silly little girl I was , that mum and dad were just arguing about the dishes in the sink.
One day, it got extremely bad. It was a Tuesday morning and I had ran into mum’s arm’s , comb in hand, waiting for her to brush my hair like every other morning but instead she screamed at me to get out of her face . I ran away, of course, crying and brushing my own hair since then. Every day since that point had been utter agony - mother grew even more distant - began shouting , screaming at everything and everybody .Every day was a new struggle , she had no luck finding a new job, and there was no luck of her getting any better .
One day , dad just hugged me before he left out the front door . He kept muttering ‘sorrys’ and ‘i love yous’ and he kept weeping . I recall hugging him back , telling him it was okay, and he just smiled at me and left . He hadn't come back since. Mother grew furious that night, and for the first time - she screamed at me , blamed me , cursed me , cried about how I ruined everything, and then she choked me . I remember my young , frail body clawing at her tight grip desperately - pleading with her to let me go, but she didn’t let up . She kept squeezing me, and I remember going in between conscious and unconsciousness - I remember hearing police sirens blazing in front of our house.
I don't remember anything after that point . Memories were all a blur, but I recall a police officer handing me off to Mr. Wayne at his porch step. I remember the look of uncertainty, the look of pain and burden flashing in his eyes when he looked down on me . I remember him holding me by my elbow and guiding me through his foyer until he reached his butler.
I watched them both converse , the butler glanced at me every other moment. Eventually , Mr. Wayne leaves me alone with the butler and returns deeper into the mansion. The butler smiles down at me, though, and I just looked at him as he guides me down some halls and into a room.
It's been a full week , I've only ever known my room , the garden, and school. I haven't met anyone besides Alfred - the butler and my teachers. Alfred kept assuring me that I had brothers who would love to meet me and that my 'dad' , Mr.Wayne was busy, so I should bear him patience.
I hadn't really cared about Mr. Wayne's absence , as far as I considered my father, was out there somewhere and had left me, and I had no interest in having siblings. I hadn't told Alfred any of that, though - I had been silent since I had arrived here . Two weeks passed, and Alfred introduced me to someone named 'Ricard' , Mr. Wayne's eldest .
This Richard had given me a tight-lipped smile and a half hug that I didn't reciprocate . I could tell he felt uncomfortable and forced, and I respected his boundaries because I would of reacted the same way if I got introduced to my new supposed 'sibling' .
Alfred had told me that Richard lives away and visits when he can since he too has work . Since then, I haven't met anyone . Maybe if you count seeing Mr. Wayne walking in and out the foyer then maybe .
Months passed, and it's been the same process - I wake up , scarf down whatever Alfred makes , go to school , come home , sleep, and repeat. Now and again, Richard may perhaps drop by, but our meeting were just exchanging pleasantries before we go our own ways.
I was still mourning my parents. It's weird to mourn when they aren't dead. Today I had I.T class , meaning I had access to a laptop . Using what minimum sites I could , I dug up that my mother was admitted to Arkham asylum and was deemed ' mentally unstable ' . It's weird seeing her in that old , grimy straight jacket and her worn hands in silver cuffs . It's weird that she is the same person who used to bake me fresh cookies when I was sad and used to so attentively braid my hair everyday - It's weird to know that somehow my pure , kind mother somehow turned into what she is.
I hadn't found out nothing about my father - reports just suggested he moved to another city or somewhat - some speculated he manipulated her into the abuse - but I knew my father went far away to start a new life - a new life that hadn't involve me .
It stings every time I think about that, though , that my dad thought I was so much of a burden he had to leave me to start anew . A part of me loathes him - wants to tear him out , another part of me wants to cry and scream ' how could he ', but the biggest part of me has already grown numb to everything around me and has accepted the fact that it's better off being on your own.
Months continue to pass on - nothing really changed , I haven't 'bonded' with anyone at the mansion , Alfred keeps making excuses for their wariness and coldness. I discovered through him that recently, one of Mr.Wayne's children , Jason, had recently passed due to a mishap with the Joker . He hadn't gone into full detail, but I understood the pain and grief - the pain of losing your loved ones and having to bury them.
Days blurred into one another, but as recently, I have been seeing advertisements for a youth camp. It's new to be supposedly based in Russia and aims to teach children survival skills, and for some odd reason, it called out to me . I became further intrigued when on one particular evening , my English teacher pulled me across after class and handed me a pamphlet for it , I remembered her saying " I thought ...maybe you can use this Y/N maybe they can help you " . I remember taking it home and staring at it for a good while.
That same day - apparently we got a new member to the family named Tim , I saw him walk in the foyer , Mr. Wayne's hands practically draped over his shoulder with a proud 'dad' smile on his face . I exchanged pleasantries with both, but the Tim guy was giving me a dirty look .
After that night , after careful consideration, I decided to join this youth camp but in order to do so I would of course need money so that very nigh I applied to some jobs . A week passed since Tim and I didn't really get along . He kept glaring at me, and I just kept ignoring him .
Apparently he didn't like that and one morning when I was leaving for school he pulled me across and with a nasty snare said , " can't believe Bruce and I bust our asses every night protecting the city and people like you get to squander away - you know for someone who uses so much of Bruce's resources I don't understand why he hasn't gotten rid of you ".
I slapped him in response and walked out - I won't and don't tolerate shit - especially from someone so far up their ass . Alfred walked in on us in the foyer and began lecturing me on the spot, but I had a cold, hard look - challenging him . Alfred just tutted and carried us both to school.
Yes - apparently, this Tim person goes to the same school as me, and I had to listen to him nag Alfred about it on the way there . I rolled my eyes - seriously, he sounds like an entitled brat . Alfred dropped us off . The moment Tim stepped foot in school lots of kids approached him - probably because it was publicly known he was a Wayne , I on the other hand wasn't- hell I didn't even take his name I still kept my father's surname .
I left him and continued my day like normal, and after school, I went to my waitress job on the block. It's a quaint little cafe waitress job . It was nice and had good pay, so I wasn't too bothered. Of course, a week into my job and Tim had to already cause a scene .
The brat had to walk in with his group of little friends and had the audacity to demand I get them a table . I sat them down, took everyone's orders, and this man had to order some complicated shit with absurd add ins. Why order expresso and complain it's too bitter ?? Why order no flat decaf when decaf is already flat ? Why , when I explain to you , you snare at me .
The brat even had the audacity to say ' I was embarrassing the family by working here ' . I stepped on his foot, causing him to flinch and whispered to him , " Frankly I don't give a fuck what you or anyone thinks or has to say - you can frankly kiss my ass and see if I could care " and walked off .
He didn't leave a tip sadly and walked out of there with a nasty glare . I came home that evening and met Alfred, leaving out my dinner in my room , " Master Wayne restricts you joining dinner tonight since you are behaving too violent." I just gave him a look . For one pathetic of Tim to tattle to Daddy darest - another many reasons why I don't want siblings and secondly I've never joined anyone at dinner , I live and breathe in this room and unless the mansion is burning down I won't leave it to go anywhere unnecessary.
Months like this pass , Tim and I glaring at each other. Occasionally, Richard stops by to check on Mr. Wayne, or simply hang out with Tim and I was steadily saving money to go to this youth camp.
On my final day , I paid off for the youth camp registry and began packing my things - I simply began packing my clothes , I left behind any things deemed unnecessary like my record players , little nicks and knacks friends gifted me , the very painful photos of my parents and I and the home sewn clothes I once made in tech Ed.
Everything held very little value to me here , especially since I wanted a fresh start there . I packed my bags that night and left without a trace. Downtown Gotham was dangerous but had useful people for the wrong things. I carefully knocked on a banged up door and waited .
I heard a latch move itself and a wrinkly , obese man peers through at me . " What you want, kid?" he grunted . " A passport and a straightway ticket to Russia tonight," I say monotonous. He stared at me for a moment and left . Moments pass and he returns and slips me a passport and a ticket . I let our a small grun before slipping a $100 dollar bill in the latch before taking off in the night.
Training
Russia was cold - but for some odd , maybe sick and twisted way, I loved it . I loved the feeling of the cold nipping at my fingertips , I love the ghostly feeling when the cold air blows in you and I love the way it makes me feel alive .
The youth camp was a successful idea - marvelous even . Though many in my unit complained about how strenuous the training was , I enjoyed it . Every morning , from 4 am to 6 am , our mentors took us on a two hour long jog in the snowy forest of Cheremkhovsky .
It was hard at first , I had literally fainted on my first go, but as I eased into this , it became easier . After that jog , we had breakfast, and then we trained in our combat , hand to hand , handling weaponry such as guns and knives, etc.
My mentor , Kerry Lenz, took me under her wing when I joined . She saw my raw potential, my greedy need to feel alive and belonging . She had practically made me into what I am , a trained assassin .
While most of my peers were asleep in the dead of night , she took me out into the forest , regardless of whether it was snowing , raining, or a massive heatwave . There, under the start nights, she taught me the art of murder , she taught me how to effectively hide a body in plain sight and taught me how to read a person thoroughly , taught me how to stalk a prey and how to notice the tiniest details no matter how absurd .
She taught me like a mother hen would to her chick, and it made us closer. I came here to Russia at fourteen, and now here I am, graduating at eighteen into Russia's CIA program.
She kissed both of my cheeks that day and hugged me, and for once , I reciprocated it . " My beautiful rose , be the strong daring girl I taught you to be," She sobbed into my shirt . I smiled and hugged her , my eyes brimming with tears as I nuzzle into her shirt - her smell of rose scented perfume and Columbian cigar wafted into my nose .
" I promise to be that strong girl , mom," I promised her that day . She smiled at me and patted my shoulder . " hun , this life is a life you can't back away from , it digs its claws into you and keeps you hostage, promise me , you would not deter."
I nodded into her and tightened my hold on her . Since my graduation , I , out of the twenty five candidates at the youth camp , graduated into Russia's CIA task force . Our missions were never easy , every one we face the brutality of human nature - from sex traffic rings , child predators , serial killers to huge organizations abusing civilians , we were tasked to handle them all.
Every mission had its difficulty, a loss albeit one of our own or a victim, or maybe it's the mind-numbing pain of killing . Every mission had its fair share of shit but that didn't deter me one bit - I loved my job - I lived knowing that when I killed another child predator that I saved another child.
What's the use of arresting them in a system we're they are bound to be free and face no repercussions? Doing this job made me look at persons like Batman and his folk and a bit differently - he knowingly puts people like the Joker back into the Arkham asylum, knowing they'd break out and wreck havoc again.
Damian's p.o.v
If anyone told me that I of all people would feel out of place I would laugh at you . For my whole entire life - I've been a man sure of everything - down to the nitty things - I've been sure of everything.
I knew what I liked to eat , what shirt I wore with its specific pants , what show I like to watch , knew for certainty I wanted to be Robin but here - in this family I'm at a loss.
I'm always cleft confused and rather frustrated . My father's eldest , Dick , keeps lecturing me about how 'violent' my ways are , how I'm not suited to be Robin , that Robin is not 'violent'.
How is a boy supposed to believe the methods he's had instilled in him from birth are considered wrong - considered too orthodox. We both always argue - he always pushes me to my wits end . Today, though - today, he took it a notch further .
Today he involved father in our spat . It was a simple situation - a simple stake-out , a robbery being done in some small local supermarket , the robber noticed us before we noticed them and took off running and I had simply launched a batrang into his leg to stop him.
It led to the robber bleeding out in the road and almost dying, but wasn't the objective met ? Father and Dick seemed to think otherwise considering I was berated for it for fifteen minutes straight.
But what got me was when dick said , " You're a monster like your mother." I literally launched myself at him - almost prying out his eyes but father managed to pull me off and send me off to my room with a glare.
I didn't go to my room - I was far too angry, so I just roamed around the mansion . I have never been to this side of the mansion - to be fair, I don't even think Alfred ventures down here, but somehow - the quiet halls bring a bit of peace to me .
I walked down a hall and stopped at a door left abit ajar - weird I thought all doors in this house automatically closed . Approaching it , I carefully opened the door and peer in , inside - inside looked like a bedroom.
The bed looked like it was purposely shoved up against the window , it only had two pillows but frankly sat plush in-between them was a small plushie of a penguin. The room held minimum decor - whoever lived here may have been a minimalist or has long since moved on .
It had a quaint dark oak desk covered in dust and had several stacks of books that looked well used . Next to it was a wardrobe in matching oak that had a red,very worn , backpack hung on it's round handle . The room had a vanity , a cute miniature white one that every little girl must dream off , it held a simple comb and hair ties in a singular cup but the mirror was covered in old polaraid pictures.
So someone definitely lived here - but who ? I've seen Dick's room , even though he isn't here often Alfred cleans it and he has those stupid posters all over , it can't be Tim's either because his room is all dark and has a bunch of clothes strewn around , it's clearly a girl's so Cassandra? No she's too neat for this - steph ? No , I remember her decorating her room with pink frilly ribbons last Christmas- Jason? - no so then who -
" I see you've come across y/n's room " comes a sudden voice behind me . Turning around , I am met with Alfred, who looks around the room so - so sullen ? " Pennyworth, why such a cres- fallen face ?" I enquire . Alfred looks everywhere but me .
" This is y/n's bedroom " he says as he steps in. " y/n ?" I ask perplexed - father - hell no one has mentioned y/n to me ever .
ty for reading !!!
incorrect quotes
Tumblr’s reminder, PLEASE STOP SAYING TERRY IS A CLONE HES AN ATTEMPTED BIOLOGICAL CLONE BY TRYING TO GET THE EXACT VARIABLES THAT MADE BATMAN HAPPEN, WHICH FAILED, HE ISNT A LITERAL CLONE OF BRUCE. WALLER LITERALLY SAYS HE ISNT, TERRY IS JUST BEING A DRAMA QUEEN TO WHICH WALLER SHUTS HIM DOWN MULTIPLE TIMES.
OH AND HE HAS A BIOLOGICAL BROTHER THAT IS EXACTLY LIKE HIM! NO. HE WASNT BORN IN A LAB, HE HAS A FATHER AND MOTHER! PLUS THE ONLY REASON HES RELATED TO TERRY IS BECAUSE TERRYS DADS DNA WAS ESSENTIALLY TURNED INTO BRUCES.
This is like saying Damian is a clone of Bruce because someone raised him with two parents kinda like Martha and Thomas therefore he’s his clone.
Please justice for Matt just existing and Terry being Bruce’s son.
Also Wallers plan sucked in the first place due to the fact she was trying to make a second Bruce but failed at the first step, BRUCE IS A BILLIONAIRE TERRY ISN’T, HE DOESN’T HAVE ANYONE LIKE ALFRED PLUS HE HAS A LITTLE BROTHER.
She was likely to get “yeah I have other responsibilities, mainly the fact I’m taking care of a kid” and “I am vengeance” Jason Todd style rather then Bruce.
Thank for coming to my “justice for Terry” Tedd talk.
So like, can we appreciate the different animated Tv shows interpretations of Dick?
OG animated series: He’s just a funny sweet goofy gaffy guy, ain’t he cute! Aww look at that face! until… oh… oh no… turns out murder was an option.
Teen Titans: Serious leader, will fuck you up, yet kinda dorky at times who keeps getting compared to Slade for some reason yet very much just acts like Bruce and is blind as hell. Also ✨TRAUMA✨:D
2004: You like your bones? :3 Oh you do? Thanks, I needed to know what to take first… *melts into the shadows* hehehehehe >:)
Young Justice: I make it my personal mission to be a menace and a manic with a smile and radiate annoying little brother energy to EVERYONE
I love how absolutely UNHINGED this man is, but it’s fascinating seeing every interpretation leans more into one of his traits more then the others depending on whose writing. But the murder always stays.
Honorable mention:
The animated movies: So I was here too. Okay byeeee~!
Edit: I completely forgot about young justice because I haven’t really watched it yet
Yah ever take a break from reading a comic and kinda dread reading the rest? That’s Batgirl year one for me rn. I put it down a week ago and I haven’t picked it up again.
Oh yay misogyny and sexism wooooo~!
Not gonna lie I like reading it for Barbara’s half but knowing it was written around when in the mainline comics Dick and Barb just got together, his actions in it give me the massive ICK why did they write him like that?! I know Dicks two-faced at times, usually those cases have a reason and I accept them cuz Dicks not perfect. But, it’s low key creepy when you know what was happening in other comics during this one and then this one.
Like, am I supposed to feel grossed out? I know the main idea is to so how much sexism Barbara faces on a daily basis, but from the guy she’s supposed to be dating later? I don’t think I am? Maybe I am? Like if that’s the idea, yah failed to make me like him so far from her prospective or the reader. He doesn’t come off as “coy” or “cute” it’s just something about his behavior in how it’s as a cis female reader in 2024 just gross.
It’s not reading what? 14? 13 year old boy at this point? It’s reading I don’t respect you at all and you might as well be a toy to my own ends.
Note: these are my personal thoughts and they are subject to change, thank you… also no I’m not dropping it just taking a break cuz reading that stuff can be tiring even if writing it can be therapeutic.
Edit: Also this isn’t a hate post for Dicks character just SPECIFICALLY this comic presents him as a character. Robin year one was great but then you read this one and your like “what the fuck happened?”