there was something i noticed from the wonder woman movie that hit me in my figurative balls, and it’s steve’s line here: “believe me, i wish i could put the blame on one person.” this kept nibbling at me, until i sat down and figured out what it was nibbling at me for. and i gotta say, it took some rubbing of my two brain cells together
it was the thing i needed to finally put the pieces together behind this line, because i’m a fucking dumbass who realizes things only years later: “i bet your parents taught you that you mean something, that you’re here for a reason. my parents taught me a different lesson, dying in the gutter, for no reason at all. they taught me the world only makes sense if you force it to.” see, i’ve been taking that line in the context that superman is upsetting the balance, right? like everyone else in the movie, batman is scared of what superman can do, and i haven’t taken that line beyond that point. but if that was the only message the line was going to offer me, why include that bit about the parents? why not keep it short and sweet, why not make it snappy? it’d make a hot soundbite.
but, the thing is, i wasn’t thinking about this line in the context of batman’s arc in this movie, i was just taking it at face value. but the first we see of batman is him running into the destruction, rescuing a man, rescuing a little girl, but being unable to save her mother. we see him lose his parents, and we see that he’s lost his son. we see him lose the man that he’d rescued. that’s a hefty string of bad luck - all those deaths, all so seemingly random. that’s the thing, right? batman lends importance to death - his parents’ death must have some meaning, jason didn’t die in vain, and neither did the civilian causalities of the metropolis disaster. his crusade against superman is his crusade against criminals.
batman is doing the exact thing diana’s doing this whole movie - he’s pinning all this tragedy on one person, he’s gunning to kill, he’s forcing the world to make sense. why didn’t i see it earlier
Selina quietly observed him from behind the
window as he sat on the couch opposite the fireplace, his lanky frame somewhat
tense, shoulders sagged and head low. It had been a couple of days since Jerome
wrecked havoc on Gotham and tried to murder Bruce, and Selina couldn’t remember
a time when she had felt more terrified for him. The moment she’d learned about
what had happened, she’d gone straight to Wayne manor, not even caring that she
was supposed to be mad at Bruce—she just wanted, needed to make sure he was okay.
<b>Bruce:</b> Answer your phone<p/><b>Tim:</b> I can't, I can't find my phone.<p/><b>Bruce:</b> Okay, let me know when you find it.<p/><b>Bruce:</b> <p/><b>Bruce:</b> You are an awful child. You're killing me. You're kiling your father.<p/></p>
I feel like we’re always talking about Tony being bad with emotions but like
give me Rhodey I’m-gonna-hug-you-and-drink-a-beer-with-you-but-if-you-start-talking-emotional-issues-I-gotta-suit-I’m-not-afraid-to-flee-in Rhodes
give me Natasha shoot-at-your-problems-until-you’re-sure-they’re-dead-than-cut-off-their-head-just-in-case Romanov
give me Clint I’ll-turn-everything-into-a-joke-to-avoid-a-honest-conversation-even-if-it-kills-me Barton
give me Bruce You-wanna-talk-about-feelings-take-it-to-the-Hulk Banner
give me Steve Listen-we-can-talk-about-anything-but-if-it-involves-feelings-I’ll-throw-myself-out-of-this-plane-parachutes-are-overrated-anyways Rogers
give me Thor I-totally-just-happen-to-shortcut-every-phone-when-you-mention-anything-deep-and-substantial-on-accident-and-could-you-explain-that-toaster-to-me-one-more-time-I’m-confused-about-the-single-button-I-have-to-press
Just give me Tony as a reasonably well-adjusted person for once, someone who is secure in his relationships and his own worth. And give me everyone else as, well. As themselves.
AAAHHH i love your hcs/ideas so much, fear gassed jason never telling Bruce what he sees kills me in a good way. would you talk about their relationship? Honestly ur writing makes me weep I just love it so much
oh gosh, oh gosh every time i have to write them i lose a part of my soul….here u go anon i did my best!
Most times Jason can’t tell who he hates more: Bruce, or himself. He hates seeing Bruce because it makes him raise the question of ‘who’s right and who’s wrong?’ and going down that train of thought is…painful, to say the least.
Sometimes, Jason wished he didn’t know the truth. Sometimes he wished that he was naïve, or ignorant, or even stupid. He wanted to feel anything besides the all-knowing iciness of knowing the truth; the truth being Bruce looks at him and sees a ghost.
Bruce doesn’t make it obvious, at the very least. It’s packed into the small gestures; the passing glances, the longer stares, the clenched jaws. It’s in the calloused fingers brushing hair out of Jason’s eyes, and the quiet words the man wills himself to speak. Like a fool, Jason falls for it, of course.
One time, Jason stops by the manor to help Alfred out with something, and decides to head into the cave and take the back exit. He heads down, and notices Bruce is in the cave already.
Standing in front of the glass case holding Jason’s old uniform.
Jason, the real Jason, stops, his heartbeat stuttering. From his place on the stairs, he watches the old man lift a shaking hand into the air and press it against the sparkling glass, head bowing forward to press up against the casing.
Gestures much too tender for a dead memory. The husk of a man reborn, a lost son returned home, a loved one. The realization hits him like a freight train, nearly sends him sprawling onto the rocky floor in its weight. Bruce looks at him, looks at his murky green eyes and his tired smiles, and sees nothing. No, not nothing…a young boy. He sees his Robin from a past life, dressed in bright colours and donning a winning smile and speaking with warmth. He doesn’t see the scars, the effort Jason’s making, the strength he possesses. He doesn’t hear the sharp wit, the booming laughter, the drawled out words. He doesn’t feel the love, the trust, or the protectiveness.
Bruce looks at him and sees a grave.
Jason leaves, and time passes; he stays out of their way and they know well enough to stay out of his. He lets them keep their godforsaken glass case and their dusty memories
The next time they meet face to face is the night Jason goes after the mayor, intent on giving him the antidote he procured. He spits words about ‘trust’ at his father figure, all the while ignoring the real problem that kept them worlds apart: that glass case.
Time and exposure help heal the wounds they don’t speak about. Bruce may see him as a ghost, but his brothers do not: he teases Damian, shoots snarky quips at Dick, and offers sarcastic advice to Duke.
Him and Bruce…Jason understands the strength of an alliance between them. He tentatively reintroduces himself into their fold, joining patrol and accepting responsibilities. He and Bruce are on better terms, and everything is at ease.
But Jason can never forget that glass case, and Bruce can never take it down.
Description: One-shot where Batman suffers a shot to the shoulder, resulting in reader having to patch him up and make everything better again.
“Bruce, please be careful.” You said into the earpiece as you kept track of the events coming up on the Batcomputer. He was currently out trying to trace a drug dealing back to one of the mastermind criminals in Gotham. You were keeping up with his location, plus the multiple armed men that could be lurking, all in search of the Bat.
“Anything on the radar yet?” Bruce questioned, clearing his throat. You checked on the status, your heart racing just a bit. “Multiple. All of them are armed. Plan a stealth attack.” You ordered. Bruce obeyed and you heard his grappling gun shoot for the nearest building that would allow him full surveillance.
You couldn’t help but bring your fingers toward your mouth, the nervous feeling rising in the pit of your stomach. The number of armed men happened to total to four. Easy for Bruce, nerve-wracking for you.
You listened in, seeing as how he got three taken out within a five minute span. The last one, however, he was having a bit of an issue with. “What’s going on?” You questioned, not too sure what he was thinking. Bruce sighed, not answering. “Bruce.” You said in a more stern tone, trying to make him talk.
“I-I’m not scared of you!” The man said, apparently becoming a coward in front of Batman’s presence. You stayed quiet, allowing Bruce all the focus he needed. Seconds later, the sound of the gun firing filled your ears. “Bruce!” You screamed, hearing as he let out a low groan, signaling he had received the bullet.
The man who fired the gun screamed in pain when you discovered Bruce had his hands wrapped around his throat. The sound of the man being slammed onto the ground was heard moments later and you could’ve swore you heard bones cracking against the hard pavement.
“Babe,” You tried to get him to answer. “(Y/N), I-I’m okay.” He answered. You shook your head. “Get back here. Now.” You instructed.
When Bruce entered in the Batmobile, you were waiting patiently. As soon as the car’s top lifted, Bruce stumbled out, still fully cladded in his armor. You hurried over to his side and helped him. The blood had already seeped through the grey and black tones on the suit, meaning the bullet must still be lodged in his shoulder.
“Alfred’s going to kill me.” Bruce chuckled as you threw his good arm over your shoulder. You took the cowl off of his head and threw it onto the ground while you started lugging Bruce along with you to the elevator. When you two reached the next floor that was the living room inside the manor, you helped him over to the couch and sat him down.
“I’m going to get the first-aid kit. You stay right here.” You commanded, pointing an index finger at him. “Ugh, don’t leave, (Y/N).” Bruce winced, obviously in pain. You chuckled and hurried off to grab your things. When you returned, Bruce was holding onto his shoulder. “Don’t get blood on the couch.” You joked, helping him slip the armor off. You gently placed it down beside the couch where you sat while you assessed his injury.
The bullet was indeed lodged into the shoulder. You grabbed a pair of tweezers that had already been sanitized. You looked at your boyfriend, knowing this would hurt you more than him. On some nights, you hated tending to his wounds. You were shocked he hadn’t shed a tear yet, but he stayed awfully calm.
As you started pulling the bullet out, Bruce’s grip tightened on the back of the couch, his eyes meeting yours as he let out a loud groan. “I know, Bruce.” You bit down on your bottom lip. Once you had the bullet out, you placed it into the tray and went onto cleaning the wound. You dried up any blood that surrounded the open wound, also ensuring to pat any blood seeping through.
You took peroxide and disinfected, seeing as it bubbled, signaling an infection could occur. With yours and Alfred’s proper help, Bruce wouldn’t have to worry. As you wiped it down with antiseptic wipes, Bruce’s teeth sunk down into his bottom lip. “You should’ve been a nurse.” He mumbled, giving you a rough chuckle. You rolled your eyes.
Grabbing the needle and thread, you started to stitch the wound. Bruce watched you intently, wondering just how you were able to fix him up so well every single time.
After you finished, you took a long look at your boyfriend, watching as a smile spread across his face. “Thank you, darling.” He smiled. You grinned and leaned down to press your lips against his forehead. “You’re welcome. It’s what I’m here for.” You whispered, running your fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes, finding the motion soothing.
Your lips found his as you pressed them together, closing any space whatsoever between your faces. Bruce kissed back and took his free hand that was on the back of the couch to place it directly behind your head. You felt him pull you further in, as far as you possibly could go, and he deepened the kiss. You made sure not to press against his bad shoulder, but you turned your head to get a better angle.
Remember when Lord-Batman thought Flash's heart had given out(/died) and he ignored everything, all his rules, and safeguards and such, because he couldn't deal with watching another Flash die? And even through his mask he looked so heartbroken at the thought of another Flash dying? I just thought we should remember that.
“Shit! Shit shit shit,” I swore, rushing out of bed after hearing my alarm which had apparently been going off for the last thirty-five minutes. I planned it so I could wake up early and have enough time to shower and get dressed at my place and make it to work on time. But of course I get sunken into the clouds that are Bruce’s bed, nothing like the hard slab of concrete I sleep on at home, and fall into the most comfortable sleep coma and here I am. Running around like a chicken with its head cut off to make it to work in thirty minutes from a forty-five minute distance. I charged into the master bathroom for the emergency travel toothbrush and toothpaste I kept in the medicine cabinet. “Really? You couldn’t wake me up, Bruce?”
“I tried,” he called from the shower. I could hear the smirk in his voice.
“What, did you whisper in my ear to get up or something?” I rolled my eyes and rushed to brush my teeth, thinking of what I was going to wear. I cursed at myself for thinking to leave a toothbrush here but not a set of clothes or two.
“You looked tired. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Ugh,” I scoffed and spit into the sink. “I have work! I don’t get to just sleep in and come in whenever I want. Everyone isn’t their own boss, you know.” I hurried out of the t-shirt Bruce loaned me last night. I was pressed for time but even if it was a two minute bird bath, I was gonna get clean. I grabbed a clean cloth hanging on the towel rack and walked towards the glass shower.
“I’ll remember that for the future.” I shocked him when I slid open the shower door and climbed inside behind him, grabbing the shower gel and pushing him aside to wet myself up. “Well this is one way to start the morning…”
“C’mon, watch out!” I stepped around him directly under the showerhead and rushed to scrub myself. I spotted the 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner and passed him the bottle. “Help me out.”
He chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he took it from me and poured some in his hand. “Yes, Y/N.”
“Don’t be smart, this is all your fault! You always try to keep me here whenever I visit.”
“Can you blame me?” He massaged my scalp and worked the product into my hair. Had I not been on the clock things would have taken a much different turn, but picturing my manager’s face nagging me about punctuality kept me from getting turned on and moving at the speed of light. “If making you late means more showers like this…”
I whipped around so my hair could rinse out. “No. I don’t even have time to go change clothes! The very least I could do was be clean.” I gasped. “Oh my goodness, I don’t have clean underwear. Fuck!” I turned off the water and ran out of the shower.
“Y/N- I wasn’t finished-”
“-Then turn it back on, Bruce!” I grabbed his robe and ran back into the bedroom to find yesterday’s discarded clothes. I checked my phone: 24 minutes. “Shit!”
“Alfred can give you a ride to work,” Bruce chimed in, walking out of the bathroom as he wrapped a towel around his waist. “He knows more shortcuts than I can count.”
“Fine! That’s fine, thanks.”
“Check the bottom left drawer of the dresser.”
“-Just check. Do it fast; you are strapped for time, right?”
I rolled my eyes and stormed to his dresser. “Glad you’re getting a kick outta this.” I opened the drawer and it was full of clothing, but not Bruce’s. Female. I pulled out a grey sweater that looked very familiar and it was, because it was mine. “You… When did you get-”
“-After the last time you were late and had to rush to your place to get dressed. I had Alfred pack you some things to keep over here. You know… just in case.”
“And you couldn’t tell me this ten minutes ago?!” I hurried out of yesterday’s jeans that I rushed into, sans panties mind you, and pulled on a fresh pair of undies from the drawer, some black leggings and the grey sweater. “You’re gonna kill me, Bruce, you know that?”
He smiled. “Come back tonight.”
“No! You think I enjoy having mild heart attacks every morning or something?”
“You won’t have to. You have the dresser drawer now.”
“No promises.” I grabbed my cell and coat and rushed to find Alfred. “I’ll call you later.” Before I made it out of the room he grabbed my hand and pulled me in front of him. “I will! I’ll call you, Bruce.”
He nodded, tucking wet strands behind my ear. “I look forward to it.”
I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him goodbye, sneakily pulling the towel from his waist as I did so. I felt him shake his head as a “Hmm” escaped his lips and I laughed. “What? I can’t get a sneak peek before I go?”
“Enjoy your day, Y/N.”
“I’ll do my best, Brucie.” I backed away, biting my lip and turning my head to view him at all angles. “Just beautiful.” I turned and bolted down the stairs before getting too tempted. “Alfred!”
<b>Diana:</b> I hear Selina Kyle is in arkham now. Which means she won't be dating anybody<p/><b>Bruce:</b> you don't sound too disappointed<p/><b>Diana:</b> oh, I don't care<p/><b>Bruce:</b> uh huh<p/><b>Diana:</b> you got something to say to me, Bruce Wayne?<p/><b>Bruce:</b> you'd probably kill me<p/><b>Diana:</b> you know I'd kill you<p/></p>
a while back @girlslikecarsandmonet asked me what i thought were necessary components to creating a ‘good’ jason todd characterization and since i, obviously, love jason and love death and dying irt jason todd, it’s a question that stuck with me for a little while and i wanted to give myself a chance to expand on my thoughts here. so, without further ado: here are the main things i try to shape my narrative around + keep in mind when i’m writing jason.
recognizing the classism in jason’s narrative / understanding the differences between bruce and jason’s moral compasses and how their respective childhoods shaped the heroes they are today.
understanding jason’s reaction to his trauma and, more simply, understanding how to respectfully and realistically write a mentally ill character.
understanding his relationships with the various members of the batfamily.
understanding that jason needs a solid support system to ever ‘overcome’ or move on from his issues with bruce.
explanations and a whole lot of rambling under the cut!