Spes

the thing about Damian, especially pre-Robin, is that you have to straddle a line between child and cult assassin. He’s a nuanced character, you can’t dumb him down or simplify him. (On that note: PLEASE stop calling him feral! It’s racist as fuck!)

You cannot make other characters be nice and understanding to him from the start like Dick or Tim or Jason. You cannot make them treat him like a toddler below his actual age.

You also cannot make him a irredeemable psychopath who exists only to hurt Tim and sow conflict. Because that’s just straight up not true. Fanon.

Writing Damian needs to be a balance between these, and he needs this nuance to be interesting.

If everyone treats him softly, then there’s no point for Damian’s personality as it is. He is rude and arrogant and abrasive for a reason. You could argue that he’s spoiled, but he’s also a child who was ripped from a culture he knew and thrust into the arms of a white family who don’t understand him and don’t make the effort to actually teach him their views. He’s rude and angry because there is no place for him there, not until Robin, and even then he is still subject to their judgements. If everyone treats him with kid gloves, then his attitude comes without justification and doesn’t make sense.

Please remember that when Damian first appeared in comics, everyone except Talia disliked him. Bruce wasn’t sure what to do with him, but he also was quick to scream obedience. From Dick’s inner monologue in Resurrection of Ras al Ghul and his very early interactions in Batman and Robin, he didn’t like the kid and thought him a burden to bear in the place of Bruce. Tim never once gave him mercy after the first meeting. His inner monologue and actions all speak of hate and teenage angst - some justified, some way out of line.

Damian’s anger is then reasonably apparent. He doesn’t fit in. He can’t. But he doesn’t seek violence. He doesn’t try to murder everyone in their sleep like some people think. It’s shocking that fanon’s interpretation of him is a boy who goes for the throat in every interaction. He’s snippy, but in every single comic I’ve read he’s never tried to fight someone without a justification. If he was an X-Men level telepath, then I’d argue that his actions would become worse if he really knew what people thought of him at first glance.

If you’re a child that knows he is hated, then you lash out. You test boundaries. You see what will make them exile you, hurt you. You are a brown boy surrounded by a white city in a culture that you don’t understand. You cannot see your mother again. They hate her. You cannot express yourself in a world that expects the worst. You are shackled by expectation and judgement. They won’t let you be, but they won’t let you go.

You are stuck.

And in this, you will always be.

Honestly it would be hilarious if Clark and Bruce started dating and Clark was unaware that Bruce was batman or knew his identity.

At some point Bruce kisses him as superman after a rescue and Clark is emotionally going through it coz his boyfriend kissed another guy. Even if that guy is technically him he's still mad and jealous of himself somehow coz even superman can't compete with Superman. He's not even sure whether or not to confronted Bruce about his affair since it keeps happening.

While he's trying to figure all this out Batman,of all people, kisses him. And he does it so casually. Sure, Clark had a crush on him for a while but he's over it now and he's in a committed relationship that he thought batman knew about. Now he's extra scared of confronting Bruce because he doesn't want it to look like he's just starting a fight so he can be with batman. And he's still hoping there's a way to work through this and for them to be together. He's being haunted by his moral code to just talk about this and get it over with but he's still afraid of losing Bruce and living in the shadow of the idolized version of himself again.

*Meanwhile in the batcave*

La la la Bruce, twirling around liking a fairy princess living his best life: my boyfriend's the best and every thing is perfect. Maybe world peace is real. Is this what happiness feels like?

The bat kids have tried giving him several rabies shots and an exorcism.

Bruce wayne and Clark kent having a relationship kinda silly. Just small dates after interviews with lovely talks about anything, like weather or the people of gothan/metropolis. They can spend hours just yapping

And on the other side we have superman going feral when batman flirts with Clark

Superman: I-- HES DATING!!!

Batman: I still have a chance

Superman: No you-- WHAT?!

Batman: He already broke up with lois once. That new playboy is just a fase

Superman: He really likes that playboy!!

And batman fully knows that clark and supe are the same person. He likes to play with him and receive confirmation that he is a good man

Another day, Batman appears to save the night and finds Clark as Clark protecting some civilians, and he go very flirty mode, but Clark DONT fuck with that

Clark: Thank you for saving us, Batman. I am very happy that i can go back to my BOYFRIEND who is the PRETTIEST and SMARTEST of the WHOLE Gothan... Batman: You are welcome... Want me to take you home first?

And bat tries to pull a seductive smirk, only to make clark go red angry wanting to go back for his bf to talk shit about the bat even though they are friends

I would love to read a fic like that, idk if already exists

the misinterpretation of a lonely place of dying by later retellings drives me nuts because ‘tim finds out who batman is’ is nearly not as much of a big deal as ‘tim doesnt want to be robin’ in the actual origin and it pretty much sums up whats wrong with modern tim drake. ALPOD is a tragic story of a twelve year old boy who had everything and willingly gave it up for a greater good. he is not like dick and jason who became robin to escape tragedy nor bruce who had everything and then lost it. robin was nothing but a curse he accepted to bear and he did so because of his selflessness. that selflessness is his driving rod, his smarts and physical talent are only the tools he uses to achieve his goals. he is not ‘the smart one’, he is a sacrificial lamb for a cause he became an unwilling spectator of. a twelve year old boy thought ‘people need saving, its that simple’ and put on the clothes a dying kid not much older than him wore because of nothing more than his selflessness and everyone he loved paid the price for it. he paid an even greater price for it.

Becoming robin was NEVER Tim's first choice. I think a major part of his character is that if you have him the choice to redo things so that everything would have been ok without him becoming robin, he would have taken it. But in the same breath if you had told him to make that choice, but the only time everything ends up better is if he does become robin, he would have made the same choice every time. Tim always weighs the greater good over his own self preservation.

Random goon: Hey boss, were you the one to pick that name as an alias? And why this one?

Red Hood : I used to have another name, before... A long time ago. But that person is dead now. I get to choose for myself now, they can't take that from me. I won't let them.

Goon: Huh.

Random Goon: Say boss, why do you never take off your shirt in front of us?

Red Hood: Well uh, I actually have that really fucked scar on my chest and I'm not comfortable with...

Random Goon: Don't worry boss, we get it, you don't have to explain yourself to us.

Red Hood, high on some toxin: God, I wish my family...

Random Goon (on boss-sitting duty): why not try reaching out to them?

Red Hood: They would never accept me as I am now... They wouldn't agree with my so-called "life choices". Besides, they don't miss me, they miss the person they think I used to be... I wasn't even a man when I last saw them.

Random Goon: Damn boss, that sucks.

And then the goons throw the Red Hood a party on trans visibility day and Jason is so confused he straight up cries.

Senior Goon who put together that Batman is Hood's dad: Don't you fucking dare show up to Pride, you goddamn piece of shit! Not after what you did to your own kid!

Batman: ???

Senior Goon: You fucking heard me. Absolutely disgusting. Don't tell yourself a father if you can't love your kids no matter what.

Batman: ... What does Pride have to do with anything? I had no idea he got resurrected to go find him.

Senior Goon: "Resurrected"? It's called top surgery, you heartless bastard! He didn't fucking die, just 'cause he aint't a she no more!

Batman, beyond confused: He did, though. He literally died and got resurrected.

Senior Goon, spitting in disgust: You've got some nerve. Get outta my face!

Bruce, later that night: What the hell are you telling your minions?

Jason: They assumed the scars on my chest I'm uncomfortable with were top surgery scars. They were so supportive, I didn't want to disappoint them by telling them I just died.

Bruce: Joey accused me of being a homophobic parent and spit at me.

Jason: Really?! That's so sweet! Send me the video!

Bruce: Can you at least tell him our issues have nothing to do with your transness? Or lack thereof.

Jason: Stop being homophobic and I will.

Bruce, notable bisexual and vocal queer advocate:

Dick: Why does Jay respond to everything you post in the group chat with "Don't be homophobic"?

Bruce, sighing deeply and putting his head on his desk: I'll make him wish he just came to dinner like a regular human being.

Dick: ???

Red Hood, in the middle of his own safehouse talking with Joey: Once we get the payment, move the product. Otherwise, no dice.

Joey: On it- Uh, boss?

Batman, appearing out of thin air:

Red Hood, jumpscared: Jesus fucking Christ, B.

Batman, resting a hand on Hood's shoulder: A lot has happened between us that I am not proud of.

Hood: No shit-

Batman: But who you are has never been one of those things. You've always been my son, and I have loved you as one since the day you came into my life and I always will.

Hood: wut

Batman, pulling Hood into a hug: If I've made you feel as though I ever stopped, I'm sorry. I don't want a misunderstanding like this to come between us.

Joey, through tears: You better fucking mean that.

Batman, about to drop a bomb: I'm bisexual with kids of all genders and sexualities. I would never turn any of my children away, even when they've done things I disagree with. They are my children and their happiness matters more to me than anything.

Hood, in shock: What the actual fuck is happening right now.

Batman, continuing: Thank you, Joey, for telling me how he felt. He wouldn't have told me on his own and would have lived thinking I was ashamed of him, which could not be further from the truth.

Hood: You're not even my real father.

Joey: Don't talk about the man who raised you like that!

Batman: No, he's right. He has every right to be mad at me. But I couldn't let him go on believing I stopped caring about him.

Jason: I fucking hate you.

Bruce: Don't be homophobic.

I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app

Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.

“No?” he says.

“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”

“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”

He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.

And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.

“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”

“Lightyears beyond, actually.”

“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”

He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.

“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”

“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.

“Exactly.”

“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”

Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”

Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”

“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”

“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”

There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.

“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”

“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”

so Batman has the skill Functional Dissociation In Emergency that allows him to shut down all emotion when things get real bad which is why his coworkers think he's a sociopath and why his kids feel vaguely ashamed that they weren't born with this very impressive feat

yes there is a mini-little Bruce in his head that's having the panic attack and yes that Bruce comes screaming to the surface the second things are deemed safe and Batman has to go throw up in the corner in response

Imagine you're so small and cold and scared but there's smaller ones that are smaller and colder and more scared. I'm going to cry

The Waynes never really did fireworks. At least not correctly. To one Danny Fenton at the very least. He had to help this poor family.

The bats are losing their ever loving shit. Their newest addition to the family is playing with explosives. A manic grin as he quick scrambled away after lightning the fuse.

I am glad to inform you that as Gotham is in New Jersey, most home fireworks are illegal there aside from some small ground novelties, causing the Bats to lose their shit more.