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Nightwing and Tim Drake, Discowing and the loss of Jason Todd (link to the entire tiktok here)

Ko-fi

Oh my god you done it again you captivated me with your words. Babe any fic of yours is a treasure to me I NEED THEM LIKE A NEED AIR

I am an angry and starving pirate looking for sacred gold and every time i get a notification you posted something it’s like finding a massive golden coin

a loving family, an unpalatable desire

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: would anyone hear me out if i ever wrote romantic yan! bruce (ft. platonic yan! batfam AND romantic yan clark kent alongside the superfam ofc) with a neglected spouse reader... because uhm, i've been thinking about it lately just yk... so anyways PLSPLSPLS send in asks about this, ive been thinking about it so much lately.

imagine wanting to raise a family so badly with a man who adopts problem children as a side hustle. you're not some invasive spouse, you've always been good, always been loving, so... so accepting, never questioned where or how he picked them up from the side of the streets, never once complaining about the hickeys on his neck or the once neat tussles of his hair now tangled accompanying lipstick stains on his white suit.

you love your children, you tell yourself all the time. you love them, you love bruce— even if he doesn't love you. you said it in your vows, despite it being scripted, despite your family finally sighing in relief in the sidelines at finally being able to sell you off to one of the wealthiest man in the world, rather than being wasting off under their care— your vows are real.

you wanted someone to love you, unconditionally, so viscerally eternal that it eats you up.

really, all you wanted was to play that fantasy life of trophy house spouses. all you wished for was a loving, healthy relationship. the american dream: the picture perfect family frames, your husband kissing you on the cheek as he leaves for work, your children bickering at the dining room, with the scent of homemade meals wafting about the vicinity. all you wanted was the warmth in your chest to flicker like candlelights. all you dreamed about was that domestic life, an escape from the abusive household you were raised in.

yet the manor is too cold, too unforgiving for a soul such as yours.

the longer you stay inside claustrophobic, yet oh-so large hallways, the quicker you drown in a neverending pool of self-hatred.

but you're not allowed to show them your sufferings. they've been through much worse, you tell yourself. they've suffered more, and as what good spouses do, as what you're taught, you stay silent, enabling them to turn you into their own emotional punching bag.

you only allow yourself to cry at the dead of the night, under the sheets of your too-cold blanket and your too-hot pillows. when the manor is filled with deathly silence and a looming sense of dread and ill fitting thoughts of ifs and when they'll come back in one piece, will you grant yourself temporary respite; worry for a family who never even called you their parent.

yet you've always been so considerate. despite the pang in your chest every time bruce flirts with anymore potential love interest at a gala, you chose to instead monitor your chaotic children, who have always never bat an eye on you despite you always gazing lovingly at them.

you know of their interests, they don't know yours, yet you still give them extravagant gifts on their birthdays, with tired, yet glinting eyes, and a silent excuse to return to your room; one separate from bruce.

you know of bruce's hardships, but you don't push too hard, don't force him to talk, only provide him your silence and an offer to serve him dinner; all the time he refuses without looking at you. you give him comfort only if he ever allows you, only if he allows his walls to crumble— but not even his spouse can amount to a warm, crackling fireplace. to him, you're probably only a matchstick under the deadbeat glaze of the snow in a winter night.

maybe that's why you're such a ghost in the manor, stalking through the hallways, looking out for any of your children in case they come across you with any injuries. maybe that's why eventually your resolve weakened.

and maybe the absence of familial love led you to find comfort in another man's arm.

''til death do us part,' is such a tragic saying in your case, because you know it in your fragile heart that bruce's love for you was never alive in the first place. and yet you allow him to play you like a fiddle, allow him to slowly allow you to slip away from his nonexistent grasp.

and now, you're a stand-in parent for clark's son, jon, after the tragic loss of his wife. now, your world seems a lot less bleaker, as you play the fantasy of a loving house spouse, fully abandoning the life you left behind, a life you've never been gifted with until now. you want to feel guilty, you want to feel absolutely terrible but the heartache of neglect has become too much and all you do was allow clark to warm you up each night, kissing away your tears and spooning your deep-seated anxieties away.

you don't let the past eat you up, not when the present is too perfect, too freeing, too delusionally beautiful.

your son, jon provides you every joy a parent could have. parent's day gifts, heartfelt letters at every nook and cranny of your shared bedroom with clark— even reading him bedtime stories, allowing him to sleep in your lap after he slowly nods off, with clark knocking softly on polished wooden doors, greeting you with a loving kiss on the lips and a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand—

it's everything a parent wants, needs even.

and you're everything clark, and especially jon wants, needs in their life.

so it's such a stupid mistake, really. a slip of the tongue, a too-enthusiastic smile, incredibly bright, shining eyes. it's not jon's fault, you still love him either way. but it's an error still— one a complicated matter at hand, so dreadful for you, that jon accidentally, all-too-suddenly, mentions you as his parent to damian.

a loving, wonderful parent, he says, with a picture of you in his wallet shoved right in front of his friend's face.

Does the Batmobile ever get ticketed or does the GCPD just ignore it

Bruce: *puts a box on the table*

Bruce: Gather around, everyone. It's time for our monthly ticket review.

Bruce: First up, Steph. Can you explain what happened last Friday?

[earlier]

Steph: *looking for parking in a full lot*

Steph: Screw it, I'm going around back.

Steph: *parks in front of a fire exit*

[present]

Steph: I just needed to use the bathroom.

Bruce: And in those three minutes, the Joker released a giant water balloon forcing everyone to evacuate through one less exit.

Steph: It said "fire exit." That technically wasn't a fire.

Bruce: Well, the penalty is $100 plus the towing cost. I can pay it off but you have to help Alfred in the kitchen for a month.

Steph: Yeah, that's fair.

Bruce: Next up... Cass and Barbara? Color me surprised.

Barbara: Oh yeah, I had to remotely pilot the Batmobile the other day because Cass needed a getaway.

Bruce: Then why am I being charged $250?

[earlier]

Cass: *fighting a gang*

Barbara: Orphan, ETA thirty seconds. Prepare for extraction.

Cass: *knocks out the last henchman and runs to the car*

Comm. Gordon: *writing a ticket*

Cass: ?

Comm. Gordon: You're in a disabled parking spot without a permit.

[present]

Barbara: Well I am disabled.

Bruce: Understandable. I'll let it slide since it's the first time. Just file the paperwork for a permit.

Bruce: Dick, you went thirty-five over the speed limit when you weren't pursuing a suspect. Explain.

[earlier]

Wally: Race you to Keystone?

Dick: *revs the engine*

[present]

Bruce: You're better than this. I'm disappointed. Next up: Tim. Driving without a license plate. What happened there?

[earlier]

Tim: I wasn't supposed to take the Batmobile since Bruce benched me for my wrist, but my other ride is in the shop.

Kon: What about cameras? Can't your dad tap into the city's surveillance system?

Bart: Traffic cameras read license plates, so if we take them off, no one will recognize us.

Kon: Now that's an idea.

[present]

Tim: That's on me. I shouldn't have listened to them.

Bruce: Put them back on, plus you're benched for another week. Damian, on to you.

Damian: What on Earth could I have done? I followed the speed limit, parked in the correct spots, and never so much as changed lanes on an empty road without signalling.

[earlier]

Damian, a middle schooler: *driving*

[present]

Damian: Tt.

Bruce: Don't do it again. Duke...

Duke: *cringes and remembers what he did*

[earlier]

Duke: *hooks the Batmobile to a freezer trailer*

Duke: *starts driving around with a megaphone*

Duke: Ice cream! Get your ice cream!

[present]

Bruce: Fantastic job. No complaints.

Jason, muttering: Teacher's pet.

Bruce: And finally, Jason.

Bruce: *empties the rest of the box*

Wiii Timkoooonnn 💖💖💖💖✨✨

Someone please shoot me in the head

"My favourite superhero is Green Lantern!"

"My favourite is the Flash!"

"Mine is Robin!"