...who Wants To Bet That Part Of Robin-training With Bruce Was Micro-dosing Different Drugs, Both On

So I saw this bandwagon...

Naw, I kid. This is my first step back into the Tumblr world since I was a wee internet fool.

Not that that has changed at all. Mostly here because someone told me I should and I am easily influenced.

Expect mostly user error and eclectic reposts.

I HAVE SPENT. TOO LONG. TRYING TO WORD THIS PROMPT PROPERLY.

Seriously, I have three drafts and one of them is basically me just writing the fic myself...

By the time Jason is ready to be legally revived as a Wayne, the world - and Gotham, in particular - is NOT going to accept the excuse of a coma or amnesia. What they ARE going to accept is the excuse:

"Batman's cult-themed enemies used magic and science to raise me from the dead to use me as a way to stop Brucie Wayne from funding him. But I'm a bad Gotham bitch and I escaped my Rogue Origin Story. Also they cloned me, and that's why the Red Hood gets away with so much - Bruce is trying to adopt him, too, but Batman kinda has dibs on morally dubious antiheroes, so there's a custody fight."

"Yeah, they aged Hood up and planted him in Gotham before I made it home. It took me awhile, I was dodging assassins! No, he didn't know he was a clone until we met by accident when he rescued me from a mugging and turning it into a kidnapping. Yeah, the cult messed with his memories; we spent like four days going over everything."

"No, I've never subbed in as his body double, I'm traumatized by my narrow escape from supervillainy. Yes, we keep in touch."

DC world is used to weird shit by now; one guy dipping out of the enforced supervillain arc a cult planned for him would be mildly remarkable. Maybe he'd go on the Daily Show or give a few interviews about the experience.

(Art is by the amazing @dahtwitchi. This is a freeform collab with no real goal)

SugarTobi moans quietly, rolling his hips against gvTobi with a short gasp against his neck. "F-Fuck...Yeah, yes, he'd like...Not too deep, we haven't, ah, trained ourselves yet..." SugarTobi's other hand braces itself on the eldest Tobi's hip and squeezes appreciatively. "Yeah, let him suck...He learns so fast~"

The youngest is shaking, lips parted and breath hot on gvTobi's thumb. His hand slides down the other him's arm to loosely hold his wrist. He wants to move forward himself, curl his tongue around the digit and take it into his mouth, but...Fuck, he also wants the other version if himself to take charge and...and fuck his mouth with whatever he damn well pleases. ("Not too deep". How embarrassing. What, is he the only one here with a gag reflex?)

SugarTobi's eyes flicker up to find gvMadara's, dazed and already near to falling into subspace. "Right..." he returns his attention to the man in his arms. "Command me, then. Tell me what you want me to do to your lovely body..." Dizzily, he becomes certain that he has spent too much time around Madara to have picked up some of his favorite descriptors of Tobi's body.

He huffs a laugh against his elders shoulder as he changes hands and begins to massage the man's nipples. That's new, too. Neither Sugar personally care about those, so...it's interesting. Caressing the parts of this body that is so similar to his own that if he looks down he can almost pretend he is touching himself. "Of course...don't go far past the uvula. He likes when you pet his tongue and let him suck..." A full body shiver goes through the youngest and he whines needly. "The...The palatine tonsils should be the limit..."

SugarTobi watches, enraptured, as his younger self begins to drift into subspace from gvTobi's fingers and voice alone. "Fuck...he's falling already? Wow..." He lightly bites his elder's shoulder to make sure he's paying attention. He's a bit jealous of the youngest, but won't let himself fall until he is sure that gvTobi can handle both or either of them. "He's going to be...extremely suggestible like this. Obeying orders is going to leave him euphoric...could probably get him off with praise alone." Not that SugarTobi knows anything about that. Madara's voice telling him what a good boy his is has certainly never brought him to one of the most intense orgasms of his life, no.

"It's....complete trust. If you get overwhelmed or don't want him...send him to my Madara; he will treat him well." He glances at the man he is speaking of and draws a short, stuttering breath at the intensity of the attention the Madaras are giving to them. The two Madaras in varied states of undress almost make him laugh and do fill him with a sense of accomplishment. Some of the most powerful ninja in the world are shucking their robes and running their hands over each other while hardly looking away from the trio of pretty lookalikes.

He meets the passionate gaze of the eldest Madara and presses his thumb down just a bit on the head of his alternate's dick on his next stroke. SugarTobi might shoot the man an arrogant smirk as he does.

Mitch Grayson might be my isekai self-insert proxy but that's not hurting anyone

Sorry y'all, it's story time. When I was a kiddo my siblings and I got to see the Batman Forever movie in theatre - you know, the one where Dick was around 21 and had an unnamed older brother? My older sister quickly called dibs on having Robin as her favorite character and, as imperious older siblings do, assigned me to having his brother as my favorite. So, I dutifully admired my tragic hero for several months until I realized that my guy only existed in one movie and had no appearances in comics or merch or anyone's memory.

Lately though, decades later, he's been constantly on my mind. I think the reveal of the nameless Prodigy and Dick's older half-sister Melinda as characters wove some new paths in my memory banks or something, because "Mitch Grayson" is just resonating. (Maybe, just maybe, Dick was always meant to be a younger brother.)

Imagine the classic Robin origin, but with Mitch as an older brother; how would things change? Who would Mitch be?

In my head, it's Batman, Robin, and Hoodlum, not the Dynamic Duo but the Terrific Trio. I imagine Mitch as being a few shades more angry, a little harder hitting than his baby brother. He'd be 12/13 to Dick's 8/9, and I imagine he'd be as obnoxiously protective and smothering as a traumatized older sibling, fiercely and almost rabid to protect the only blood family he has left. He's meaner and it'd take more effort on Batman's part to convince him not to merc Zucco. Mitch admits to having a different idea of justice than Batman, but is willing to keep to his foster father's rules.

Mitch is, perhaps, enough of a little shit to drive Batman into reading self-help and parenting books, if not outright therapy.

I think Dick would still bounce to form the Titans eventually, but this time without being fired and kicked out of his home. Definitely would be after a fight, though. Something about having two overprotective, high-handed assholes always trying to keep him grounded. Mitch is perhaps unhealthily codependent.

Despite his little brother leaving the city, Mitch stays firmly in Gotham. It's partly because he knows that he'd otherwise just follow Dick around and his brother's right that that isn't healthy. Mitch has to grow and face his own struggles with letting his loved ones live independently. He's very much like Bruce in this way.

In his civilian life, Mitch is a lawyer who focuses on introducing superhero protection measures, especially for younger heroes. A lot of laws he bases off of the ones for child performers regarding caretakers, pay, schooling, etc. If an adult cape is going to mentor a young cape, that adult better be ready to prove they can provide for that kid, including their mental health and also a way to leave the cape lifestyle should the kid want the out.

Also, provisions for cape-on-cape crimes. Specialized court procedures for people with secret identities, so they can testify or defend themselves legally.

Maybe in this universe he happens to be shadowing Harvey Dent on a certain day. Maybe he stops the events that lead to Two-Face.

Mitch is shorter than Dick, more physically like the traditional acrobat. Where Dick has their father's build and their mother's features, Mitch has a more willowy athleticism and their father's jawline. His Hoodlum uniform has a full mask once he hits puberty and grows a mustache like John Grayson's.

He is unapologetically gay. His social media accounts have steady uploads of the aerial routines he still does, along with silks and hoops and gymnastics. All those Waynes are thrill-seekers, after all. Sometimes he can be convinced to perform at Haly's or in a music video.

There's an incident over a year after he and Jason nearly die in a warehouse in Ethiopia. The Joker very publicly is holding a Wayne gala hostage and is live streaming the event. So it's very publicly seen that Mitch Grayson very purposefully swings a heavy antique chair at the Joker's head.

The trial is held outside of Gotham due to Mitch being unlikely to have a fair one as a well known Gotham celebrity and lawyer. It's an open-and-shut case of self-defense, though the prosecutor leans hard into Mitch's testimony that he'd known the chair would kill the Joker if he managed to land the hit. Mitch cites the trauma of being in the Joker's power again as being the reason why he chose to use lethal means - it's very Ender's Game; "Knocking him down won the first fight. I wanted to win all the next ones, too, right then, so they'd leave me alone."

He does some time in prison. The notoriety keeps him from falling into Amanda Waller's hands. #freemitch trends on Chirper in Gotham the whole time. Mitch and Bruce have several deep conversations about justice, and killing, and love.

Hoodlum loves the Robins; Hoodlum loves Batman; Hoodlum loves Gotham; Hoodlum loves his family.

Hoodlum eventually becomes Jason's title when he's grown up from Robin and ready to carefully and obnoxiously b(r)other the new kid. Tim soars in the Flying Grayson's colors and can always depend on his Hoodlum.

Mitch's new helmet looks like a snarling gargoyle. His colors are muted, but there's still a flash of red-yellow-green somewhere on him.

Grotesque takes to the skies and Mitch flies with his family.

Hey, heeeey. This fic is so freaking good. I love me some cryptid Batfam and this one is like.

*insert hand flapping*

It's like that? Like, it's such an excellent look at humanity and masking and people being different aspects of themselves throughout their lives, but it's all hidden in the subtext of a story about spirits and I love that even more?!

I love that sometimes we see humanity best when we strip away what we usually define as human.

Fucking. Love this. I'll write a comment on it in a bit, gotta hit that therapy appointment but I loved this so much I wanted to share aaaaah

(Art is by the amazing @dahtwitchi. This is a freeform collab with no real goal)

YoungestMadara groans at the commanding voice and sits on his heels behind his older self, firmly grabbing his hips and pulling him onto his lap. "Here, like this...you kneel and keep your hands on the ground, that's right. He said no touching, so only your pretty mouth is going to be taking that cock. That's right, right there, fuck..." He has spent an age working the man open with his fingers, lining himself up and pressing into that heat was almost criminally easy.

"Fuuuck, you're so ready for me, so fucking good..."

One hand rubs soothingly over SugarMadara's shaking back, brushing his hair to the side so he can scratch trails down the bared skin. The other hand grabs at his hair again and jerks his head back until his mouth is forced to open.

"Stick out your tongue, Soldier; I believe you have a position to keep."

His older self whimpers.

SugarTobi finally gets around to removing the rest of his clothes and lets his younger self sprawl over him, cuddling his back and watching the others with undisguised awe. He is...not completely fine. Trying to fall back under, but he cannot quite return to his state of euphoria.

Do you think Bruce Wayne became written as a worse and worse parent because the idea of what makes a person "Heroic" has changed over the years?

(Cut for rambling)

At the start of Batman comics there was a very clear need for the audience to suspend their disbelief. The comic was very much a story, a reflection of the world where the reader was to be entertained with tales about a strange detective investigating the strange crimes of Gotham City.

Robin was Batman's partner, a new element to the story that appealed to a younger audience. They were a team that brought in a lot of capital. Authors would write heart-rending storylines and at the opposite page there would be a weird cheerful ad for Batman and Robin using fruit pies to stop crime.

Society evolves quickly and our media can struggle to keep up. The notion that children should be protected is a relatively recent one and it makes the inclusion of child heroes become... unpalatable to people. Modern values have changed and so too must the characters.

But applying current social values to the concept of child heroes would erase them.

Their whole existence is to be young and to fight the people who want to hurt them. To be young and be able to protect one's loved ones is a compelling story.

It's not just comic book heroes who fall under this paradox, either. Avatar: The Last Airbender is full of children learning how to fight and die for their world. Percy Jackson is another. Hell, one could even make a case for Warrior Cats. The Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew were facing off with murderers just as often as any kid hero.

It's a common and loved story because we've all been children who have had to carve out a place for ourselves in the world.

So the existence of Robin, of child heroes in general, becomes an awkward duality. The character is too profitable to retire. Many people can still suspend disbelief enough to enjoy the story. Other people struggle to accept that a "hero", a "good Dad", could allow his children to fight at his side.

So authors are tasked again and again to try to explain Robin. To excuse the existence of a child hero in a day and age when most responsible adults would freak the fuck out at the idea of a kid going out at night to fight criminals.

And sometimes, more often than many of us would like, they come up with writing Bruce as a bad parent. A bad leader, even. It doesn't help that writers don't often get to have stories published that have significant influence on Batman as a character. He's purposely, perpetually trapped at one starting position for every new story.

Which is a valid take. In my opinion it's uninspired, but I understand the rationale behind it. They're working against a lot of baggage. There's nearly 90 years of culture shift to account for and hundreds of authors. Even the way comics are written now is very different from back then and that also messes with perceptions.

To me, Bruce is a deeply flawed man. He's been a shitty dad, yes, but not because Robin exists. He didn't have a choice with Robin - that was decided by forces beyond his control. I don't know how to judge canon Bruce Wayne; there are genuinely too many stories for me to feel like I have an accurate read on him.

I know that he tries very hard to do good. I know that he has the potential to make better choices and take kinder actions.

I'm not going to hold my breath, though. Even if we get a canon Batman run where he gets therapy and apologizes for his mistakes and past actions, where he has some real, meaningful dialogue with the people he loves... The next writer can ignore that for a more dramatic plot where he acts like a complete drip.

Pick your preferred version and warp canon to fit that guy - it's what DC does.

Thank the goddess for fanfiction.

Casual Life Update:

Remember that cat my grandparents stole a few months ago? His name is Dos. Because he was part of a litter of 4 kittens. So they were named Uno, Dos, Tres, and Kevin, because the neighbors couldn't remember Quatro.

Grandma calls him Do-si-do and he follows her around when she takes care of her chickens.

I've been thinking about my farmer grandparents a lot lately, about the people they knew and the lives they've lived. About how American culture has changed so much in their lifetimes. About how Grandma had to leave her schooling to help support her family after her mother died of cancer. About how teachers would often lock my Grandfather out of their classrooms when he was excused for religious services and they'd humiliate him in front of his peers before letting him back in.

About how a lot of people - especially in these Internet spaces - see them now, as old farm folk, and dismiss them as uneducated. As stereotypes and caricatures to be derided. Without a word to them, people will assume them to be of no use, to be able to contribute nothing of value by their experiences, and capable of no grand thoughts.

It's a bitter taste to recognize, hypocrisy.

I think about how my Grandma insists that everyone should write at least one book in their lifetime. She has books of short stories, books of poems, books of essays, books of local recipes collected by the women's societies in the area. So many of them are self-published and freely given to her by her friends and family. I love that she can pick each one up and tell me about the author and how she, and I by way of her, is connected to this person whose thoughts are inked on cheap paper.

She has her own book almost ready to go. It's full of little poems and daily devotions, letters to people who are no longer around to receive them. It scares me, because she had been in my life for so very long and I do not want to trust her to my faulty, frail memory.

(Art is by the amazing @dahtwitchi. This is a freeform collab with no real goal)

(Picture 1)

Meanwhile, an older Madara is lecturing the younger one. "Listen, if you pursue this when you get back and if you have enough talent in bed, Tobi's going to fall into subspace and you need to be paying attention to that. It took me forever to catch on to why he'd get so depressed sometimes and it's not like he knew what was going on. The first time we slept together I left afterwards and he dropped hard, not that he said anything until ages later. So. Don't leave yours to go through that alone, understand?"

He looks over at the other Madara, who seems confused. "Is yours a sub? Because if he is, you need to take care of him, too. Don't think separate universes will keep me from kicking your ass if you screw up the way I did."

(Picture 2)

The older sugar!Madara flushes at his alternate's tone, slightly ashamed. "I started out just sleeping with him to try to preemptively spoil him for future lovers. It was a rush to think about how anyone else who touches him would be being compared to me and be lacking. Falling in love with him wasn't something I planned."

The younger makes a considering noise and turns his attention back to the Tobiramas. There is no denying that he feels very much the same way; the look on 'his' Tobirama's face had been fascinating, so full of yearning when he had seen his alternates kneeling. Obedient. The man in question turns as if feeling the weight of Madara's gaze on him. Their eyes meet. There is...potential. Maybe even enough to pursue the Senju with the right ideas from the start. Tobirama ducks his head a little and turns back to the conversation, but his ears are burning red.

"Six years? It's good to hear that. We've just passed our first..." Sugar!Madara is equally smitten-looking. "Hashirama tried to throw a party. It's a good thing he's terrible at planning festivities; we managed to get an away mission and had our own celebration." (They had rooted out a group of murderous bandits and Tobi had gotten to indulge his own kink regarding Madara and his armor, wild and aggressive on a battle high)

Wanted to write out something not-so-heavy, so I'm gonna borrow @arandomao3user's freaky Tim and Bernard pair.

Kink and Bondage go hand-in-hand, but there's a constant problem in the TimBern household. And it's all Tim's fault. He's a fucking escape artist. He keeps getting out of the ropes, the cuffs, the zip ties, the soft restraints, the chains, the really fancy bondage knots that took forever to actually get him into, the specialty restraints, the straitjacket from that one undercover op that went really weird...

It was cute at first when he could play-tackle Tim back to the bed (or floor or table or counter or chair or deck) for a different sort of game, but at this point it's become a problem for the both of them.

Because Tim genuinely can't stop escaping, even when he's into being tied up. Bernard, with equal amounts of frustration and affection, calls it Tim's Robin Reflex. He does it by habit, by accident, and while asleep, on one memorable occasion. Tim's always very sorry, of course, and he is trying so hard to be good for Bernard. It's just that they haven't found that sweet spot yet, that mystery thing that can keep Tim relatively helpless and at Bernard's mercy, but won't trigger the not-fun sort of sense memories that come with years of vigilante work.

So, at a loss and desperate for ideas, Bernard calls his bff.

Jason, actively falling asleep after patrol: "You want advice... On tying up Timmers? Like, shibari 'n whatever? Fucking. Didn't need this in my life, Burn Notice."

Bernard, entirely too awake: "C'mon, Jason; you're one of the most creative people I know and I'm out of ideas. You used to fight all the time! And you have major connections, my man, my buddy, my bestie. Don't you have any alien tech or magical stuff that might work?"

Jason, so tired: "I can ask around later, you freaky...I don't know. I never tied Tim up when we were fighting; I shot him in the thigh once and that slowed him down."

Hearing nothing but dial-tone, Jason sets his phone aside and promptly falls asleep

Three minutes later, Jason sits up in a cold sweat and scrambles for his phone to text Bernard.

J: DO NOT SHOOT TIM

J: BERN. FUCKING ANSWER ME.

J: ISTG IF ONE OF YOU FUCKERS IS SHOT WHEN I GET OVER THERE I WILL GET YOUR HORNY ASSES NEUTERED