Secret Identity - Tumblr Posts

Meet Holy Heck, The Fort Wayne Slugger, Chief Executrix, Nightguy, and Sawtooth

In a world full of bad dads, these ordinary college students just might be the heroes we need

Lies,Love,Lust and Sword

She stood on a rock, her auburn hair flailing about in the ocean wind, those soft lips lifting up in a triumphant smirk. The tip of her sword preesed against the man's throat standing on the ground below her.

They had been playing a game of secrets. Hiding their ruthless nature, desperately hoping their masks would make the other person love them. Fate was cruel,wasn't it? She internally chuckled remembering how neither of them had recognised the obvious truth, too caught up in their own lies.

A shudder went through him. He had his eyes downcast. Thinking?regretting?or had he accepted his fate?. She didnt know.

She could still see his arched lips. The lips that had had her chasing her highs with just groaned out words, lips that had had her heart melting with their whispered promises, the same lips that had kissed her with all the devotion in the world. He had always been sweet to her both in words and actions. And suddenly she realised how foolish she had been. Everything she had chose to ignore. She used to sense that he was restrained when being with her:in the ways he glided his fingers over her skin and how he always behaved as though she was fragile. Now she saw that his softness was just a cover for his ruthless self. For the first time she saw him for the trained assassin he was and all that those pretty lips could do was spin lies.

But now was not the time for reminiscence. She would do that later after she had washed of his blood in the oceans.

She pressed her sword at his throat, a bit harder and watched mesmerized the blood trickle down his throat. She lifted his chin up wanting to see the life drain from his eyes.

His adams apple bobbed once, twice, and then he lifted his eyes to hers. She wasn't ready for what she saw in them. It wasn't resignation or aggression.

Yes there was a tinge of fear maybe even trust(about what she didn't know) but his eyes,they were filled with lust. Caught off gaurd, she had to tighten her hold on her sword.

She knew she was going to kill him, had to kill him but why shouldn't she indulge him, herself for the last time. Just for a moment.

She dragged the sharp tip down his neck and lower still. She cut through the shirt reaching his pants and again retraced her path. She glided over the defined muscles, his shoulders and then back again to his abs. She could see the bruises already forming marking where she had been. She flatened her sword again his pebbled nipples,the metal cold against his hot skin. A shudder went through him. She was about to smile in victory. That one moment of gloating cost her.

In a lightning fast move he caught her hands and she realized the mistake she had made. She had let herself get played,again. She knew he was going to kill her, after all, he had been paid to kill her.

He pulled her down to him. Hands still holding hers over her sword. Even though she hadn't completely lost the sword, she knew she couldn't over power him. She only held on to the hilt, futilely, her knuckles turning white. She knew her death was going to be a painful one because she had bruised him now. She wouldn't look at him, wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

He shocked her again. He took her fingers of the sword and lifted them to his lips; left feather light kisses on each one. Sucked them into his warm mouth and lapped at them like he would her pussy.

She was starting to get turned on. But confusion clouded her mind. She didn't understand what was happening. "what are you doing? Are you cozening for one last lay before you kill me?"

Her voice brought him out of his lust induced haze. He seemed appaled by her suggestion. He immediately let his hands off the sword and cupped her face. " I'm sorry I ever deceived you. I never thought i would grow to care about someone ".....he let out a resigned sigh and continued..... " at first I was only fascinated by you, but then along the way I feel in love with you and now I can't imagine a life without you"

She started laughing at his absurd proclamation of love," you have to come up with a better plan to decieve me again. Those three little words aren't enough" she said.

He seemed hurt but as though he understood, " Mara I didn't know you were the Amara of Asclepius that I was paid to kill, everything we had was true! The only thing I hid was that I was a warrior. Mara I didn't, couldn't ever hurt you." He lifted the hand that held her sword to his chest above his heart and held it there.

"Mara, I love you with all my heart and I realized this only when you had the sword at my neck. I realized I would rather die than lie without you. "He said his hands holding hers, the sword pressed to his chest.

She was shocked to say the least. Her heart was beating against in her chest. He had confessed his love with a sword aimed at his heart. She somehow knew he was being earnest. She knew he wouldn't kill her, the sword at his chest now was proof enough. But she had more pressing doubts.

But should she take him back? Was he actually in love with her? Would they even be compatible? He killed for a living, she studied and healed. At the same time his confession rang in her head loud, clear, repeatedly. And then it stuck her. She didnt care either. She would rather take a chance with him and face any thing rather than be without him.

She threw her sword to the ground and lept on him, kissing his lips with soo much passion he stumbled back a few steps before pulling her closer. Their hands moved with a frenzy, feeling the other confirming that the other person was actually here. They broke away when he groaned as her hands brushed over one of the bruises she had made.

She sent a sheapish smile ,and said"I'm so sorry about that, I dont know what came over me".

She traced her tongue over the shell of his ear and whispered, " I promise I'll make it up to you"

Goasting her hands over the bruise she made just above his pants she added in a teasing tone , " but from your reactions one might say you actually enjoyed it"

He pulled her even more closer so that their bodies were molded and practically purred, "you have no idea how much".

But before they could lose themselves in the other's body, he pulled away and aterted dragging her away saying," this place is far too open and I have far too many things i wanna do to you".

She laughed ang said,"whats the hurry we have the rest of our life to ourselves"

With his eyes filled with love and the biggest smile she had seen on him he promised"the rest of our live together".

They left the beach hand in hand.

He knew that they he would make sure they had the rest the rest of their lives to love each other. He wasn't the best assassin in the realms for nothing.

*—–—–—–*

Inspiration:

I may just be dumb but, like, for me this is proof that Clark Kent's discuise would 100% work. I honestly cannot tell if this is two friends or one man changing between glasses and a brightly coloured suit. Anyone who doesn't think Superman has a good enough secret identity obviously over estimates people's brain capacity.

Relatable

BARBIE MEME 💖❄ Princess Jane - OC ❄💖 Speedpaint by Ninjon-chan 🐇💙 from 2023. - part 19.

She is princess of ice❄ and lightning⚡ She also can heal🌸 She is elder sister of Tori. She was worried that some illegal things happening in the kingdom that's why she created to herself a secret identity and start working as a spy.

In my story she lives in the future around 2300. In these years superhumans rule the whole Solar-system and travel through the Galaxy and visit other exoplanets and alien spieces is absolute normal.

You can support me on 🧡PATREON🧡

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CHAT NOIR

LADYBUG 🐞

Wait, I found it

Could you draw wally and luthor when they switch bodies in the great brain robbery ep of jlu?

BEST EPISODE OF TELEVISION EVER MADE

Bruce googling “Top Ten Clues Your Teammates Know Your Secret Identity” There was that post going around about members of the justice league playing “fuck, marry, kill” with Bruce Wayne in the mix, and, well.

“Right. One last question. The owner of the…” He checked his notes again. “The botox store next to the yoga studio called us and told us she saw a man with a similar build and in a suit similar to yours take down those men.”

He paused.

“Oh?” Murdock tilted his head to the side.

“Are you Daredevil?”

Bruce googling “Top Ten Clues Your Teammates Know Your Secret Identity” There was that post going around about members of the justice league playing “fuck, marry, kill” with Bruce Wayne in the mix, and, well.

Fateful Beginnings

III. “the alley”

parts: previous / next

plot: chasing down your interview subject lands you in a sticky situation.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, almost sexual assault, noncon physical touch, violence

words: 2.5k

You could tell by the bright yellow caution tape surrounding the blocks nearby that you had finally arrived near the scene. Officers were stationed around the tape with a crowd beginning to form while masses of people were shuffling out of nearby clubs to see the drama, muttering amongst themselves about what it could be. None of them were correct. Another shooting? A stabbing? A drug bust? You heard murmurs of Where is he? which you could only imagine was about the man of the hour, the Batman.

Snaking your way around the officers would be difficult, but not impossible. The onlookers guaranteed a degree of anonymity, so you wove through the crowd, ducking under the tape and rushing into the alley. Once there, the darkness was protective. Blaring sirens deafened your ears, causing a shudder on your spine as you trekked through the blackened night. The only thing that gave you any idea of where you were was the brick you kept your palm on as you walked, dust collecting on your fingertips from untouched cement. It was eerily quiet, which unnerved you. Gotham was never this quiet. As you kept forward, the commotion began to leave your ears. It seemed to fade into the distance rather quickly—either that, or you were walking much faster than you anticipated. When would this alley end?

Almost as if you'd asked for it out loud, you started to hear wet, frantic footsteps splashing through puddles ahead. You squinted your eyes to try and cut through the shroud of darkness, but to no avail. Then, frantic yelling. You pressed your back to the brick as you saw a flashlight appear in front of a tall, stocky figure a few feet down the alley. "Hey," the voice, a man's, shouted at you. He shone the light right at your face and your vision went white, stinging your tired eyes. "What's a lady like you doing back here, huh?" His tone was conniving, setting off your body's alarm system. You turned and started to run, but he removed the light source as soon as he noticed you were on the move. Not ten steps after, you fell flat on your chest, tripping over a wood block mid-step. Your hands protected your face, your palms taking blunt trauma rather than your nose. You felt the familiar, childhood sting of scraped hands and elbows as you heard his footsteps creep closer. Fuck. This was so stupid, fuck. You started babbling, anxious. "Please, I'm just trying to get home,"

"A girl like you doesn't live over here." You heard him spit somewhere, hopefully not on you. You felt a hard tug on your right shoulder and found yourself yanked over onto your back. He threw the lit flashlight down onto the ground and it made a strong clang. The rain stung your eyes and hands, thundering down and into your jacket and soaking your clothes underneath. You began scooting backward and scrambled to get up on your knees as you were shoved back onto the concrete, further grating your palms. You yelped out in pain as he pinned you face-down on the alley floor with a grunt. "Not my first choice of broad, but you'll have to do." He chuckled and you heard the rummaging of clothes. Oh my god. You were about to be assaulted. Your jaw dug into the ground as he palmed your ass over your pants, giving it a slap with the hand that wasn't pressed between your shoulder blades. Suddenly you felt a breeze on your lower back, through the rain hearing a tearing of fabric. You squeezed your eyes shut and let your body go limp as you felt the breeze extend down your ass, to your thigh, and then down to your calf. Hard rain pelted against newly exposed skin. A white noise filled your ears, stifled sobs stuck deep in your chest as he started unzipping. You balled your sore, bloody fists in preparation, begging it to be over quickly.

Except...you didn't feel anything. The man gasped and you heard a thud. Adrenaline rushing through your tired, cold limbs propelled you up and you quickly stood, yanking your jacket off and hastily wrapping it around your hips. More thuds, then an unintelligible shout. You couldn't tell what was happening, and started to hobble back the way you came. You heard another thud and clang, and noticed the alley was illuminated behind you. Nervously, you looked over your shoulder and saw him: Batman, rain-soaked and angry. He was crouched over the man, and moved his gaze up to look at you. Your eyes connected for a moment and you froze.

He didn't know what to make of you. You were difficult to read. You didn't look like the city; you looked too innocent, too kind. Yet you had this persistence that made you do such ridiculous—if not impressively tenacious—things such as wandering around a crime scene in Gotham City in the dead of night. He glanced down and noticed your pants were torn and shredded in a pool around your ankles. His jaw tightened, molars starting to grind together. He'd thought you were just getting mugged, not... this piece of shit... he thought, his fists pressing firmer into the perpetrator as he began to gasp for breath, struggling against him. Who would do that to someone? What made someone think they had ownership over someone else's body like that? To take it at any time? He looked down and stared into the waning eyes of the criminal, rage burning in his throat.

You had never seen someone die before, and you started to panic. The vigilante was staring at the man and pressing harder, harder, harder into their chest until the dude sputtered. "Stop, stop!"

He immediately jumped back, panting. He'd never come that close to killing someone. He looked over at you, frazzled. His knuckles were tight, bent to perfectly cup the criminal's neck to snapping in an instant. He hid his befuddlement at having momentarily lost control. You stared back at him, nervous. He was just... sitting there. Would he hurt you? You had a peculiar, yet strong sense you were safe here, but was that real? No one truly knew much about The Batman; what if he was just as bad as the criminals he fought?

Looking at you in the alley triggered something deep within him. His palms began to sweat and he suppressed images of his childhood, the sound of gunshots ringing in his ears and rendering him unsteady. You peered at him, nervous, taking a few steps back. The criminal, still choking and gasping, struggled up on his knees. His heart raced and pulse echoed in his ears; he refocused, grabbing the criminal by the shirt and tossing him behind you both in the alley. The stranger landed on his knees, scrambling up to then bolt down the alley from whence he came. It was now just you and Batman, and he looked... nervous? Maybe that was just a projection of your own feelings. And his eyes... somehow they shined through the dark night.

"Go home." His voice was gruff, yet somehow still piercing through the thundering rain, echoing quickly off the balmy brick. You instinctually followed his order as if he was some sort of supernatural force, but stopped before exiting his eyeline entirely. The interview. He was still staring at you, motionless besides some flexing of his fists. "Wait." You gulped down fear. "I want to interview you for GU—"

"Go home." He tried to make his voice menacing as flashbacks caused nightmares in his mind, pelting him with suppressed memories of gunpowder and screams.

You weren't backing down without a bit of a kick. "It's why I came out ton—" He interrupted you with a hissing shout.

"Do I have to tell you again?" You were audacious, he'd give you that. He narrowed his gaze to a glare and straightened his back to help tower over you, even twenty feet away. He didn't have the capacity to monitor his tone, his throat becoming more swollen and constricted as the images and sounds screeched inside.

"Please?" You began to feel desperate, and he wasn't having a lick of it. He had a miserly quality about him as if he were acting as savior whilst resenting people for it.

"Being here alone is a stupid thing to do. Don't let me catch you out here again." With that, he disappeared up the brick to the roofs of Gotham, barely concealing his panting, rushed breaths as he tried to calm himself off the edge of a panic attack.

You managed to get home without a hitch, which was a miracle. The swarms of people on the main road due to the club evacuations allowed you to slip into a nobody, a faceless member of the horde. You showered off the chill and the sting of your scalp left you reeling, a manifestation of your frustration toward the Batman. He'd wanted nothing to do with the affair, and you tried not to brainstorm more topics that night, letting your mind off the hook to simply be thankful he had intervened at all... even if he'd kinda been an ass about it.

The day was much the same, holing yourself up to your apartment. You didn't have any other classes besides journalism, you didn't have to work due to your scholarship, and you had just enough money left to get you through the next two weeks until you graduated and left Gotham permanently. It was maddening being so close to the end of something yet having no clue how you were to finish it. A part of you wanted to walk to the corner store just to have some human interaction, but you were more tender to the reality of living downtown. It wasn't safe here, not even being outside for a moment.

You awoke the next day feeling restless from 36 hours contained to your studio. You vacillated between being tormented by lack of inspiration and doing everything you could to distract and fill the time. Crocheting? Too mindless. Television? The same. That final paper clung to every passing thought like a wet napkin. It nearly sent you spiraling; with about a week left to turn it in, you were without a single word on the page... with twenty of them to fill. You'd drawn up a plan the rest of that day, figuring that it would take you at least two days to write the paper to your specifications, which gave you just under five days to: find an interviewee, develop a thesis and ensuing questions, and gather the data. You cursed yourself for ever choosing a class as heavy in writing as journalism for your last term. At least a PE credit would have let you blow off some steam.

By the time it had hit seventy hours in your same apartment you nearly threw yourself out the window to feel something other than the crushing weight of the deadline. Phone calls haunted your dreams where you had to admit to your parents you couldn't finish college because you couldn't stop something as simple as writer's block. It consumed you, both day and night, pulling the color out of your face and emphasizing the dark crescent moon under your eyes. With a solid "fuck it", you threw on some sweats and hunkered down to the corner store. Rai would be a pleasant sight. He'd ask about your classes as he always did, and maybe he'd even have some ideas.

The sky stung your eyes after essentially living in a cave for the better part of three days, though it was cloudy and dark as it ever was in the city. The infamous scent of chemical rain stung the lining of your nose, prickling every microscopic hair to annoyance. It beseeched you how difficult this assignment was; nothing, no assignment in all your years of academia, had stirred you as much as this one. It plucked at the edges of your skin with relentless animosity, gleeful as you spiraled deeper into what eerily resembled a depressive episode. The experience of this paper was rattling your bones, and you were close to calling up the school counselor. Your palm shoved the slick handle of the store door open, the familiar ding and "welcome in!" forcing you to hide your chagrin. A quick flit of your eyes up to the register and you noticed Rai wasn't on shift. Ugh.

You walked toward the register to check out the deli. Rai always had delicious surprises, and offered you the 'student discount', which was really nonexistent—exclusively kindness from the kind acquaintance. Except today, the deli was empty. You checked your phone in confusion, as it was only 4:30. He never closed the deli before six. Peering over at a young woman you'd never seen before, you asked if Rai was okay. He'd never missed a day, at least not that you had been here. Sheepish, she cleared her throat lightly before perking up. "Actually um, our family was asked to cater at the city hall meeting tonight!" Visibly excited, she rambled on. "Rai is my brother, he's with my mother prepping the dishes."

"Oh, cool!" You drudged up the small amount of enthusiasm still left within you and mustered interest. "That'll be good for business, I'm sure."

The young woman nodded so quickly you feared her head might roll off. Her excitement became palpable and you couldn't help but grin as she prattled on. "Definitely! My mother was so happy when we got the invite, Mr. Wayne sent us a handwritten letter with a BONUS inside!"

And then it hit you like sharp, salty wind, and you bid a quick farewell to scurry back to your apartment. You dialed up Dr. Vry, praying she hadn't left the office early. On the last ring she answered, chewing on something on the other line. "Dr. Janay Vry speaking.”

"Dr. Vry, hey! I need a favor. Uh, would you be able to give me one of the Journalist passes for the event at city hall tonight?" The keys were chilled in your hand from the outside air and you put her on speaker as you rushed your clothes off.

"Well hello to you too, Ms. Y/L/N. I'm afraid I was just packing up."

"Please, I found someone to interview." You yanked off your socks and unclipped your bra. You needed to shower and be out the door as quickly as possible.

"And who could be so important as to call me on a Friday evening twenty minutes before I aim to retire to my home?" She sounded aloof, not quite frustrated yet.

"Bruce Wayne."

the ultraman rising movie missed the opportunity of showing kenji sato talking to his teammates, some of them are young fathers the way youngish professional athletes are, and when one starts talking about their toddler child Ken goes: “Damn mine does that too,” and you see the moment the entire team realises Kenji Motherfucking Sato has a secret kid and they all collectively decide to die with the secret because they’re a team. Kenji of course didn’t even notice he said that out loud because he’s running on 5 coffees and his lower back hurts from Ultraman duties

Okay, so, crisis averted. Both of them, really. Red Robin had not asked or attempted to get any more of Danny's drink and the World Ending Crisis was less World Ending and more World Threatening. Either way, no one is hyped up in lethal amounts of caffeine and the world is in no more pieces than it had been before.

That brings attention to a new problem, though. It's uniquely Danny's problem and Constantine and Zatanna and Deadman won't stop laughing at him. He's also pretty sure that Raven is laughing at him in the privacy of her mind, so that's making him feel worse.

The problem is that every single hero that had been at the meeting a week ago that was not a part of the JLD has been overly concerned about him.

So what if he half died when he was fourteen and therefore will never look over either fourteen or eighteen? So what if he consumes enough caffeine to kill an elephant within a few minutes? What is he gonna do, die? That's not a real threat as long as he only fights as Phantom.

Ignoring the fact that he can, in fact, get hurt to the point of near death as Phantom. It's not like anyone knows that, though! Besides, ghosts run on god rules. They can't die, only fade when forgotten. People aren't likely to forget about most ghosts, though, even if they can't remember their names.

He's not gonna share that, though. Let Batman keep his contingency that won't work because the only contingency that will work for Phantom is the one he made himself. Tried and tested! He's marked it off of his Bingo Card.

Anyway. Heros and their kids/proteges have been trying to track him down for the entire week. He can't risk even leaving the House of Mysteries because the Supers are all probably listening out for him and they can't hear him through magic. It sucks. He just wants to go get a cup of coffee as Danny. The second he leaves, though, the Supers will be on him like bloodhounds. He'd leave as Danny, but the rest of the JLD don't know what he looks like as Danny and he'd like to keep it that way, thank you very much. Being stuck as Phantom was going to start causing issues to his human half if he doesn't get to leave soon.

Should he risk it? Is coffee that won't kill him really worth risking the Supers finding out his civilian identity? Sure, they wouldn't tell anyone, but he didn't like the idea of someone being able to pick him out of a crowd when all he wanted to do was blend in. It's why he avoided Gotham and Bludhaven, actually, but that's both self explanatory and another story for another time.

"You're still here?" Zatanna sat on the couch beside him. "You're normally gone by now. You can't not be tired of us yet."

He sighed and sunk down into the couch slightly. "Believe me, I'm tired of being stuck here, but I can't leave. I can't leave as a human because you guys don't know what I look like and, no offense, but I'd like to keep it that way. I can't leave as I am now because Superman will be on my ass quicker than I can blink!" He whined this time, "I just want a cup of coffee."

"What about your special brew?" Raven asked, coming into the room.

"I want to drink coffee as a human. That stuff will kill me if I drink it as a human."

"At least you know your limits."

"That sounded like a dig at someone, Z."

"It was."

"Why don't you just go out under a protection spell?" Raven offered, "We could cast one over you and you could leave. Superman can't hear through magic, so he won't be able to tell. Neither will Superboy."

Danny thought for a second. "You're a genius, Raven! Has anyone ever told you that?"

"A few times," she blushed.

"Well, it needs to be said more!"

Zatanna laughed. "Alright, kid, let's get you outside before you drive yourself crazy."

Practically vibrating in place, Danny waited for the protection spell to settle over him. The second it did, he was out the door and wandering the streets of whatever city the House of Mysteries decided to drop him as Danny instead of Phantom.

"Who are you," was not the question or voice he wanted to hear the second he stepped into the open as himself.

"Danny," he squeaked out through his absolute panic. He didn't dare turn around.

The sound of fabric moving minutely clues him in to the second person behind him. What the hell were these two doing out? It's the middle of the day and there's no attacks going on anywhere in Gotham!

"Where did you come from?" Robin asked.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! This was really bad! Why did the House drop him *here* of all places? Does it *want* him to die again? It was very painful the first time, thank you very much! "Illinois?"

"Was that a question or an answer?" Why is Red Robin here now?!

"An-an answer?"

"Ah, you guys are scaring the little guy!" That was Nightwing. They're surrounding him! Why is Nightwing here? This is Gotham, not Bludhaven. "Give him some room to breathe."

They did not, in fact, give him room to breathe. Maybe coming outside was a bad idea. If he gets out of this no more dead than he already was, he was going to move to the middle of nowhere and become a hermit. Smallville is a town in the middle of nowhere, right? He'll retire as Phantom and move to Smallville until the people get suspicious and burn him as a witch-!

Maybe moving to a big city would be a better idea. Or locking himself in the basement of the House of Mysteries. Yeah, yeah that's a good idea.

"-even listening?"

Oh shit. They were still talking to him! Now is not the time to panic! "Gottagobye!" And then he was running.

Good job not panicking, Danny.

Part 1 Part 3

Bruce figured out their civilian identities pretty quickly. He had to, in order to recruit them. Either way, he knew the names of all of the Justice League heroes and they had no idea who he was.

Most of them either ignored their personas - like Wonder Woman and Green Lantern who didn't talk about their civilian life in costume or vice versa - while others - Superman - sang their own praises as civilians.

Superman's whole having three names thing was useful, and a pretty good cover, but Batman had spotted that the relationship between Clark Kent and Lois Lane was the exact one that Superman and Lois Lane shared, so that was a bit of a moot point.

Personally, Bruce liked his way of keeping people off his tail. Not only were Brucie Wayne and Batman polar opposites, but they were both each other's biggest haters. Although, Bruce publicly admitted that he thinks Batman has the right idea, just not the best execution. While Batman, not on record but definitely heard, has said that Bruce Wayne does good things for Gotham as a whole.

The kids all think it's hilarious, but no one - except Tim, but he's a special case - has managed to cement his civilian and caped identities as being the same person.

Well, maybe Harvey has, but that's because of a lot of reasons. As long as Two Face doesn't reveal that information, and Bruce knows he won't, then all's well.

The point is that Batman knows who the Justice League are outside of capes and masks, but they don't know who he is. Of course, revealing himself would mean revealing his kids, and they wouldn't like that if he was boring about it.

The only natural solution is to be over the top and dramatic about it.

He could keep his name to himself, but where's the fun in that?

Though, it'd be funnier if he managed to keep the appearance of Batman and Bruce Wayne hating each other, especially if he reveals that the Bat Cave is under Wayne Manor.

That'd be funny. His kids would be proud.

His kids will want in on this.

He's got some conspiring planning to do.

Storyboard Part 2

Tim realizing the best ways to hide your secret identity is to either be in love with them or to hate them, and since he already has a crush on an actual person he decides to go the hating Robin route

He can’t go about like Bruce does, him and Batman having a weird exes that weren’t ever dating thing, and he can’t do Clark’s I-disagree-with-Superman’s-methods thing because he has to be original and he refuses to go the easy route of having an actual excuse to avoid his secret identity

What Tim decides on is this:

They have beef. The beef will not be explained but there will be twitter wars. When asked they will only respond with “they know what they did”. They are fighting in a Denny’s parking lot. Bets are placed. There is video evidence. Surprisingly Tim wins. This is not explained. It becomes a running meme in Gotham.

Young Justice finds out- they don’t know Robin’s identity- they make fun of him. He kicks their asses in training. They are left questioning if Tim Drake could kick their asses. They belive Tim Drake is an upcoming Rouge. They do not know why Robin has been laughing his head off for the last ten minutes. Then they see a video of Tim face planting while skateboarding. They are no longer concerned. Robin is still laughing. They realize that Robin just really hates Tim and the hatred seems requited. They make their own memes.

Jason comes back to life. He sees the memes. He is confused. If Bruce is Batman, and Tim Drake, Bruce’s son (??? He has parents?), is not Robin, then who is? And does this mean that Bruce did not replace him?

Bruce has no clue this is happening.

Tim is having the time of his life.

J’onn is questioning how he got blackmailed by a 15 year old. (He thinks it’s hilarious)

Super heroes as an allegory for Queer and Trans Narratives

Forgive me if this is a little rambley I have already taken my sleep meds.

I was just thinking about why I like super heroes so much (they have been my special interested for probably around 8 years now) and I think because they can be seen as a queer allegory.

You have a separate life, one that you have to keep separate from your day to day life. That very much feels like being in the closet/mostly in the closet. That secrete life comes with a different name and different clothes. Trans people or Drag Artists anyone? Most of the time super heroes find each other and form a tight community because no civilian will understand their experiences. This mirrors queer people finding and building community. In both Marvel and DC older heroes will take younger ones under their wings to teach them and give them community. Queer people have taken me under their wing and I've done the same for others.

Theres also the isolation. Most heroes are only "out" as heroes to other heroes and maybe a few civilians they really truly trust. Or maybe no one knows. The knowledge that you have a huge secret. You are hiding a big part of your self. Maybe the part that is more you than the you everyone else knows. You know that if you tell or someone finds out, everything will change. Others may or may not except that part of you. You may loose people you love. Maybe the people who are close to you are pro heroes (Ned from Spiderman) or maybe they are not (Foggy from Daredevil) but either way there will always be a possibility of rejection.

The danger of being a hero also lines up. They wear masks, cowls, helmets, disguises etc, to hide their identities because if people knew they and the people they love would be in danger. Heroes who's identities are known (either by their own volition or someone else's) are also in danger. Batman keeps his and his kids identities under lock and key because everything goes wrong when the wrong person finds out. Jessica Jones does not because she's tired of hiding. Queer people weather in or out of the closet are also in danger of being outed. I've been outed before and it ruined one relationship and almost ruined another. I've lost friends and family because of being queer and nonbinary and I'm from a pretty liberal area. Just look up death, houselessness, rape, unemployment, suicide statistic etc. All of them are higher for queer, trans and intersex folks.

The last parallel I can think of is how both super heroes and queer/trans people exist outside of the system/establishment. Heroes and vigilantes work outside of the justice system because in most cases because they see it doesn't work. They are usually at risk of arrest by cops or in danger from the government (the Sokovia accords are a good example of this). Queer people exist outside of many establishments: The gender binary, amatonormativity, heteronormativity, the sex binary, etc. Queer people are also at greater risk of arrest and experiencing police violence.

IDK these are just my thoughts. I hope everything made sense. If you can think of any other ways super hero narratives mirror lgbtq experiences feel free to put them in the notes! (or not its whatever)

“The truth of it is that Shade’s foster family was not an idea situation –“

“They were slaggers and we pulled her yesterday.”

The minibot at the desk offlined his optics and took a deep vent.

“Yes, thank you for expanding on that Turbine.”

“Glad to help!”  Prowl wasn’t sure if that smile was genuine or mocking.  Rotary didn’t seem to mind though.

“So, you see,” he continued on, “we were tasked with finding her temporary placement until her new foster can be thoroughly vetted by our team.  Thoroughly.”  There was something in his tone now…”I was informed by my superiors that you two would be good candidates to take her for the next few days.  Temporarily, until we found a more permanent placement.”

On today’s episode of “I wish I had made it a series instead of squishing all the stories into one” I am debating the best way to upload the next story in Secret Identity.  I have (planned, some mostly written) a further 6 (SIX!!) stories in that Universe.  Some will be long and have story arcs so I want to make them separate.  However!  However everything is going to be very out of order. 

There are two stories in between the end of the original story and Jazz meeting Prowl’s family.  Three stories in between that story and Racer to Racer & Best Friends.  Then, a final story to wrap it all up and, of course, a bunch of short oneshots just floating around in time.

Then there’s the strange and irrational fear that people won’t want to read it if it’s a series. 

Prowl stirred his drink as he waited, feeling a mixture of emotions – tight threads of worry constricting his spark, the electric feeling of meeting a friend, and a warmth he couldn’t quite place.  For want of something to do with his servos, he poured in more flakes and watched them swirling in his cube.  The faint glint of the silver flakes in the pale blue energon matched the weather outside.  A thin frost of hydrogen was settling on the street and on the shoulders of the bots passing by the window.

Chapter 2 is up!  If you like it and have the spoons, tell me what you think! 

Secret Identities 🧡💙

~ DilemmArt + Sharkbait