I’m Honestly Surprised Breakdown Cut Your Hair In The Bathroom At 3am And Dye It Hot Pink Isn’t More

| Last Night

I remember being so embarrassed when I drew this! I’d never drawn anything slightly sexual before.

My favorite details:

I had a fun idea for a canon compliant Bruce & Tim ABO fic where Tim is presenting as an omega and he calls Bruce to take him back to the manor during the time Jack made him give up Robin.

Like Jack and Dana are in the other room but Tim wants to be with his pack alpha and that hasn’t been Jack in a long time.

And it’s painful because Jack isn’t the worst dad in the world. He’s been really trying lately, even before he found out about Robin, he’s been giving a real effort. But it doesn’t make up for all the years he was shitty and absent. He’s still got a temper and a tendency to threaten Tim with boarding school. And Bruce is who Tim feels safest with. He’s Batman but he’s also the guy who held him when his mom died and takes care of him after hard patrols. Who asks about his schoolwork and pets his hair when he’s tired during a stake out.

So he’s present as an omega and calls Bruce to take him home and Bruce shows up bc he’ll always do his best to never let one of his kids down again. And Bruce has already called Dick over (omega or beta I’m not sure) and Alfred is preparing the pack nest for Tim’s presentation. And he knocks on the door.

And Jack opens the door with a gun, demanding to know why Bruce is here while his son is in heat.

And Bruce has to tell this man who hates him, who feels emasculated by his very presence, that his presenting omega son didn’t feel safe enough in Jack’s home and called Bruce. And it’s made worse because Tim has his bags packed and he’s standing behind the two of them, swaying from the pain, and waiting for Jack to step aside so he can go be with his dad.

And Jack wants to rant and rave and force Tim back into his pack nest and cover his son in his scent and just get him to stay and be safe in his arms. But Tim is standing there waiting to leave and it is a reckoning. That even if Tim has agreed to let go of Robin to make him happy. Even if Tim says he loves him and calls him dad and pretends to follow his rules, Tim will never view him as a dad.

Maybe Jack will blame the coma. He’ll think it was the start of everything going wrong. Maybe he’ll remember, for just a moment, Timothy crying as they dropped him off at his boarding school — just 7 years old and so scared to be separated from his pack — begging them not to leave, clinging to his shirt asking why he didn’t love him enough to stay. But then his mind will reject it, not ready to face a reality where it was always this broken. And he will blame Bruce. He hates Bruce Wayne and everything this man represents as a threat to his family.

So he’ll move to raise the gun, to threaten Bruce Wayne, the prince of Gotham, off of his front porch, only for Dana to tap him on the shoulder and ask him to let Tim through. Because this isn’t about Jack and Bruce or even Jack and Tim. It’s about Tim. It’s about what his instincts need.

Jack will look at his son, really look at him and not the son he wished Tim was but the son Tim is. And he’ll see his son staring at Bruce with so much unmasked love and trust, a look he hasn’t seen since Tim was toddler in his arms. And he’ll step aside. Because for all his faults, Jack Drake loves his son. And it’s the single most selfless thing he’ll ever do as a parent.

And three weeks later, he’ll be dead.

Just devoured The Boy Wonder Comics. So good. I love Damian. I love him so much.

I have modified my Reverse Robin AU because of this fic. The art is gorgeous. How can you read that comic and not adore Damian?!

The art! Gosh the art. And Talia! So wonderful and complex! Even Ra’s is so pitiful in the end. I loved all of it and how it’s all told through a series of stories. Such a fun framing device!

The conversation Damian has with Bruce about how you can’t save people from their choices. It’s such an interesting critique of Bruce’s unfailing optimism that his Rogues can be saved without it really being about that. From the mouths of babies and all that.

No critique! Just gushing. It’s one of the few comic series I’ve walked away from with nothing to be mad about.

On another note the character designs were all immaculate. I loved Tim’s bird costume. And Jason’s white eyes. I love how Dick looks so much like Bruce even though they don’t share a drop of blood. Of course this is all warped via Damian’s perspective via Merle’s perspective. So who knows how they really look? But also who cares! It’s just such a fun way to tell a story!

I want Damien and Tim to be friends so bad. I want chaotic younger sibling energy team up to make everyone else’s life hell! They both have big gremlin energy and 0 chill and poor understanding of other peoples limits.

Stop being cowards @DC, let Tim and Damien wreak havoc!

If you have fics, pls rec and my life is yours!

Here is a thing I’ve been writing if anyone is interested:

Inspired by an AU I wrote about here: [SPOILERS]

-///////////////////////--///////////////////////--///////////////////////--///////////////////////-

It had been Barbara who’d brought it up first.

The news had been everywhere: the kidnapping of Gotham’s own Jackson and Janet Drake, CEO and co-owners of Drake Industries, had been a sensationalized story. Especially when some well timed information leaks proved the US Government had failed to negotiate the return of the couple after three months. Vicky Vale herself had written an expose into the ethical pharmaceutical company, Drake Industries, and the darling family that led it. Soon after Timothy Jackson Drake’s photo had begun circulating.

A capricious, intelligent young boy. It seemed he had a bit of an attitude with authority and often switched schools because he advanced too quickly through the curriculum and frustrated his teachers.

“He sounds bored,” Dick had remarked during one of his bi-monthly visits. He’d been scrolling through his phone all afternoon, oddly attached to the new story.

Bruce for his part had double checked Vicky’s research and found nothing notable or dangerous about the Drakes. They really were a semi-rich if not average family with a smart son and a relatively ethical multi-million dollar pharmaceutical company. Certainly, they’d given some bribes to “grease the wheels” on some of their rarer expeditions but nothing nefarious, especially not for Gotham.

No reason for the Batman to get involved.

Which is why it is so odd that Barbara brings it up during patrol. It’s a quiet night, of course. No other chatter on the coms and with Nightwing taking Robin on an excursion throughout the westside of the city, Bruce found the night almost peaceful.

And then Barbara says, “I feel bad for him.”

Batman grunts questioningly as he leans forward as if to spy this mysterious him that Barbara is preoccupied with.

“Tim Drake,” she clarifies. “You should read some of these articles, B. It really makes you nervous who's going to try and snatch him up.”

That gets Bruce’s attention. “He doesn’t have any extended family?”

I personally believe all Robins are relatively interchangeable. Like yes Dick’s style is a little flashier and he loves to add some flourish to his moves when he can. And Tim is a natural born detective who, in another life, went on to become a PI. And Jason’s brutal efficiency is only comparable to Bruce’s. And Damian’s league training is always visible in his sword style.

But all of them have the same access to the same utility belt. They’re all trained by Batman and the Robins before them. They are all natural born leaders (even if the way they present those skills differs by personality.)

All of them can fight with a sword, Damian just loves fighting with a sword the most.

All of them are amazing detectives, Tim is just a bit faster at picking up certain visual clues and suspicious behaviors.

All of them have the capability to be brutally efficient like Batman but that is Jason’s default.

And all of them are superb acrobatics trained in the Flying Grayson’s style, but that is Dick’s bread and butter.

There is a reason every team of note has a Bat. They are the utility tool of the superhero world.

No one Robin is really better or more capable than the other. They just have signatures that mesh with their personalities that they tend to gravitate too.

it is november, and yesterday it felt like it was supposed to be snowing. in boston, november used a winter month, not a fall month. it is supposed to be chilly; rarely capping over 45F. it is a sweater-and-jacket month. it is a "maybe a scarf too" month. in my childhood, november meant blizzards and sleet.

it did not snow. tomorrow the weather predicts a high of 76.

i have spent so many years of my life studying the longterm possibilities of climate change - the culmination of capitalism wreaking havoc on the bodies of people, animals, plants - but every so often i am still shocked by something small and personal.

in a hundred years, when someone goes outside in boston - will they know the feeling of "snow in the air"?

i know it's a learned feeling, a sensation that maybe only longterm experience can teach. a few years ago, i was walking with my friend who had just moved up from the south. i said it smells like snow and she gave me this look like - what the fuck. i said it feels like snow too, which didn't help. she looked up to the bright blue sky and then back at me and then back at the sky. 12 hours later, we had 3 inches. you can just tell if it's going to snow.

except i can't tell, anymore. i stand outside in a tee shirt and watch my dog dance around a lake. we're in a drought and the skin of the water has peeled back twenty meters. the lake is tamed, quiet, puddlelike and sour. my pokemon go app warns there's a weather condition in my area.

my dog gets too hot from running and sits in the water and i want to laugh about his long frame and how awkwardly he sits - and i can't. some simian part of my brain is scratching the walls. it was supposed to snow. it was supposed to snow, but now it's warm instead.

during the last full solar eclipse, the dogs and the birds and the crickets went crazy under utter darkness. we laughed at them then, promising it will all be okay in a moment. but some part of me is still locked in that long night: some animal sensation.

something is wrong, my body says. i can't afford eggs or rent. i go outside to watch a sunset and listen to birdsong. i don't bring a jacket. allergies are killing me this season, allergies i didn't have as a kid. everyone comments that halloween has started to feel strange, offkilter. that it's hard having "holiday cheer." my body thinks it's april, and then it thinks we're in september, and then june.

something is terribly wrong, she whispers. go outside. it is supposed to be snowing.

I genuinely love all flavors of superbats and will enjoy all of them in the same fic even though irl I would never date my brother in law/stepbrother because that level of familial integration can only lead to madness.

But at the same time…

Like at what point do the supers just go “well this new one just showed up and is about the same age as X bat so let’s just start saving for the wedding in advance.” While Bruce plays dumb and refuses to acknowledge the pattern in fear of simply imploding from the surrealism that is his life.

A little Spoiler of something I’m working on:

Title: Will of Fire

Summary: Madara knows his sins and his faults. He knows, no matter what Hashirama thinks, there is no positive afterlife waiting for him. Maybe that’s why he’s returned to the past after bleeding out on that battlefield.

Still, there is nothing to do but get up and try again.

For Izuna.

For Hashirama.

For Obito and all those, he’s wronged.

He will take this chance and try again.

Ship: Hashirama/Madara

Tags: Politics, Slow Burn, Uchiha Family Dynamics

…

Madara wakes up to Izuna beside him.

He shouldn’t have. He should have died, should have walked forward into the pure lands all Shinobi knew awaited them: an eternal feast of friends and foes alike finally setting down their swords and kunai to eat and drink and laugh.

Hashirama had promised me a drink, Madara thinks mournfully as he takes in the rising sun creeping its way into the room, growing in strength. Hashirama promised him peace.

He lets himself mourn his death during the time it takes the late winter sun to drench the room in light. Fifteen whole minutes to regret and contemplate to consider what-ifs and almost. Fifteen minutes before Izuna wakes next to him, eyes narrowing at the sunlight and with such an amusing scrunched face that Madara cannot help but be reminded of the ornery cat he’d kept secretly within the cave.

(Obito had brought the cat because for all Madara and Zetsu had tried to break him, he’d still clung stubbornly to a love of life.

And god Obito… Madara has many regrets. More than any man should bear. Too many sins to atone for. But for Obito…. He will need more than fifteen minutes to mourn Obito.

He will need a lifetime.)

And then Izuna wakes up.

“Aniki ,” Izuna yawns, morning breath stinking up the space between them. With drool running down his chin and crust in his eyes, he looks a far cry from the Uchiha Beauty he is renowned for. “Why are you awake?”

Madara had lost count of the years between Izuna’s death and his own. Time makes things hazy, alters memories… alters reality. It isn’t until that moment that Madara realizes he’d forgotten the sound of Izuna’s voice. In his memories it is scratchy, broken by pain and suffering as he lay on his death bed while healers and medic-nin alike did their best to give him another day, hour, minute. Until there had been nothing left to save but a pair of eyes.

In his nightmares, Izuna’s voice is rough and booming, full of hatred, as he calls Madara for what he is: a failure, a betrayer, a liar, and--in his worst dreams--a murderer.

In reality, Izuna’s voice is soft and sweet, content to wake up next to his older brother and pitched at a low volume to avoid waking the household. Clinging to childhood, there is an almost squeaky quality to it. (As young as Obito had been)

A long-forgotten protective instinct flowers within Madara’s chest.

Madar looks away, tears burning in the corner of his eyes. But he cannot cry. The dead cannot do anything with his tears. He has no right to self-pity. Zetsu had led him to his grave but Madara had been eager to climb in and lie down.

He cannot be forgiven for his sins. There is no peaceful afterlife waiting for him. No drink. No Hashirama. He does not deserve it.

This is my penance, Madara thinks as he watches Izuna wipe the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand, already scarred from a lifetime of struggle. I must make things right.

Madara stands up.

For Obito, for Hashirama, for the Uchiha he’d sworn himself to and then killed, for the village and Naruto and Itachi (and that strange, powerful boy who’d reminded him of himself and Izuna and all the best and worst of the Uchiha).

It’s time to get to work.

He will cry when it is all done.

.

COMING SOON TO AN AO3 NEAR YOU!

I wish DC would just give us 1 AU series where we go from the inception of Batman to the Retirement of Batman, done by 1 writer and a set of artists. Like a graphic novel variant. Keep all the major canon events: Bruce’s parents, Adopting the kids in the right order. Stephanie’s story. The killing joke. No man’s land. Jason’s death and return. Darkside. Superboy Prime. The Outsiders. Young Justice and Teen titans all in relation to the bat family. Etc etc. But let everyone grow old. Let Tim go to college and let go of Robin. Let Red Hood become someone new and let go of the anger. Let Dick get married to Kori and have kids. Let Damien retire and become a doctor. Let Bruce become a grandpa and have to retire because his body just can’t keep up. Some rogues die of old age or compounding wounds and have to retire. Some do become rehabilitated! New villains for a new generation of heroes!

What does that Gotham look like? Did Batman work? Are things better? Are things just different?

It would be interesting to see a comic book plot where time matters.