#They WOULD become a Vigilante if they could

[missglaskin]

“You’re such a perv!” 

Aka DC Superheroes as pervs; Dick, Jason, Tim, Roy, Wally

Please don't put a community label on this (it will only shadow ban it)

Surely your friend and confidant is not some peeping tom right?!

Warnings; SMUT, female reader, vigilante!reader, Perv shenanigans, panty stealing, masturbation, dirty thoughts, corruption kink, invasion of privacy

Dick Grayson has always been your closest friend; he's the leader, the guy that everyone either wants to be like or wants him for themselves. But the boy wonder had his eyes on you, his oblivious friend. He has always been there, aiding you in missions; always saving the day, or praising you for a job well done. So how could you ever possibly know of his intense desire just for you. Dick knows his actions are downright disgusting, that small voice inside his head filling him with guilt, but his desire is just stronger. 

Missions with you are the worst. Watching you be so confident and just kick ass has him feeling all sorts of ways. Trying to turn away from your line of sight so you won't see his hard-on, his cock rubbing uncomfortably against his suit. Dick will use any excuse to get away, jerking off on the side of a rooftop, a hand against a wall and another stroking his cock, while he imagines it was your hand instead, and that alone pushes him over the edge. 

He'll find a way to make you want him too, Dick knows you're not immune to his charms. Will it be too obvious that when he goes for a hug, it's a little too tight. Is it when he places a hand on your waist pretending to keep you in place, daring his fingers to go further down. Will you push away the hands that place themselves on your thighs to pretend he's comforting you. You won't. Just as you refuse to shove away the fingers that inch closer and closer between your legs. Is it really so bad if you want him too.

--------------

Jason Todd knows he's a sick fuck. What kind of friend is he to even think of such things. But they are just thoughts, right? As long as he doesn't do anything creepy that is. Surely anyone dreams of fucking their best friend-that is, imagining your lips wrapped around his dick while he fists your hair, forcing you to take all of him. The guilt returns when your voice reaches him, asking him if he heard you, interrupting his brief moment of fantasy. He's relieved that the mask doesn't allow you to see how intensely he's staring at you.

It becomes a line he knows he crossed. When Jason found himself staring at your apartment window - he didn't intend to, he was just patrolling and happened to come across your apartment. Knowing you were safe and well should have been his reason to leave, until you started undressing. Seeing your tits exposed made the blood rush to his cock and when you bent slightly to remove your panties, Jason was sure he could have come right on the spot. 

You went to take a shower as Jason entered your apartment. Surely you must know to keep your window locked. Finding himself creeping toward the bathroom as if you were beckoning him in, instead, he stopped and stood over the disregarded clothes; reaching for the panties. Jason would have beaten anyone to a bloody pulp if they had done that, but it was his own reflection staring at him. He is a sick fuck, he thinks as his finger brushes over the damp spot and how he shoves it into his pockets. He's not sure if he should return your panties later, given that he eagerly rubbed his cock with it, leaving it cum stained.

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Tim Drake is a wolf in sheep's clothing; he is the one person you never suspect of thinking such perverted thoughts. Tim is aware he can never justify the things he's doing. He just tells himself that he merely lacks the courage to approach you, not that it's a good reason, but it's enough for him to maintain that tiny sliver of morality. There are moments when he wishes he could just concentrate on his patrolling to keep you off his mind, but you are always there, at the back of his mind. 

Tim realizes he just can't get off without thinking about you. Tim tries watching some porn, but he keeps imagining your face instead of the actress, and he hates how it helped him reach his orgasm. Or in the mornings, when his boner is becoming too much of an issue and he's in the shower trying to rid of it. His thoughts wander to picturing you in front of him, bare and wet, with your back against the glass walls and you moaning his name. 

If there was ever a time that Tim was made known that he was really sick was that day. Him laying in bed stroking his cock and seeing the phone ringing in the corner. It's you. He ought to have just let it ring or decline, but Tim didn't know what possessed him to answer the call. Your voice is heard as he bites his lip to not let his whimpers be heard, tasting copper on his tongue. Tim moves the phone further away when he reaches his high, cum covering his hands and stomach as he continues the conversation, hoping you don't hear his ragged breath.

-----------

Roy Harper was the one person you could always confide in. He had a way of cheering you up, your tears dried as your laugh echoed throughout the room. How you consider him to be your closest friend and best partner in crime as you speak to him, while Roy thinks of how the low cut of your shirt gives him a good view of your tits from an angle. When you call his name to get his attention, Roy gives you that smile of his as he uses an excuse to use the restroom. 

Roy loves taking pictures of you. You knew Roy had them, just never imagined he would have them in his sights while he jerked off. Pictures of you with a skirt had Roy fantasize about wearing em while he's railing you from behind. Your face pressed against the pillow while you bubble nonsense, too drunk on his cock. Pictures of you looking up, had him fantasizing of you staring at him with those eyes of yours as you use your mouth, bobbing up and down on his dick.

Unaware too Roy had 'private' photos, all thanks to a few hacking tricks. Roy was occasionally tempted to send you a nude photo of himself, see how you react, and cover it up by saying it was a 'mistake'. Would you perhaps return one or get jealous wondering who it was intended for. Roy gets up, cleaning himself as he’s planning to you meet you later that day. He eyes the slightly crooked tile above his ceiling, storing all the belongings he's taken from his visits to your place. Roy thinks when the two of you are official, he should hide it in a better place.

—-----------

Wally West had plenty of opportunities to hint at his feelings toward you. He liked making flirtatious comments, complaining when he wasn't paired with you during missions, and placing an arm over your shoulders. But you just assume it's Wally's typical self, not noticing his hurt look when you claimed to be "just friends". Then again you never noticed his hurried departure and quick return, where he avoided making eye contact at all costs.

Wally feels the guilt the most. He could have just confessed to you like a normal person. Guilt consumes him when he sees your gullible smile, unaware of the horrible things he did behind your back. It's not his fault really; he was invited to your place and was simply looking around until he found a certain drawer. Wally reassures himself it's not that bad if he only takes one. But it gets to a point where you're complaining to Wally about how your clothes disappear (not telling him which kind).

A point comes where Wally reaches his breaking point. The sneaky pictures, lying on your bed when you weren't around, face in the pillows to inhale your scent could do so little. As he stares at you speaking, Wally makes a move expecting to be rejected, but you kiss him back. He was in heaven, the dreams he had in every waking point coming true. He was where he wanted you to be, on top with you full of his cock, your eyes nearly blacked out as he slams his hips repeatedly into yours. Can you blame him for moving too fast when he has been holding back for so long. 

#dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #tim drake x reader #wally west x reader #roy harper x reader #dc comics x reader #yandere dc comics #yandere dc #dc x reader #dc smut #dc comics smut #smut #yandere smut #yandere x reader

[envysparkler]

Clark swore he only turned away for a moment but when he looked back, there was a silhouette in the formerly empty corner.  He jumped, inhaling sharply, before he registered the bat cowl.

“Do you have to sneak up on people?” Clark asked, half irritation, half relief as he willed his heart to slow down.  He was Kryptonian, but the Bat of Gotham was another beast entirely.  Clark was giving serious thought to Hal’s claim that the Bat was a spook.

Surely a man like this couldn’t be human.

Batman’s expression shifted imperceptibly under the cowl and Clark could practically hear the terse ‘well maybe if you were aware of your surroundings’.  Batman didn’t voice it aloud, he never voiced it aloud, but the weight of his disdain was apparent.

Clark blew out a sharp breath, “So, what are you here for?”  He tried to remember if there was any activity near Gotham lately—nothing would step on Batman’s toes quite as much as breaking his one rule—

“Kon-El.”

Clark tensed all the way up.  He couldn’t help it, it had been over two years since he’d found Kon, but he was still overprotective of the kid.  With a megalomaniac for a father and the end of a species for his legacy, Kon had a weighty burden to shoulder, and Clark would absolutely protect him from it as much as possible.

“What about Kon?” Clark asked levelly.

“He propositioned Tim.”  The words nearly came out in a hiss and Clark blinked.  Kon had told him of his plan to ask Tim out, Clark’s discreet inquiries seemed to conclude that the boy fancied Kon back, Clark couldn’t see what the problem was.  Tim was seventeen, six months senior to Kon, and he had dated previously.

Which meant that either this was a gay thing or a meta thing.

“So?” Clark leaned back, narrowing his eyes as he kept his voice deliberately casual.  “What about it?  I think they’d make a cute couple.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” Batman hissed, vehement.  Clark narrowed his eyes further.  “It will not happen.  I forbid it.  You will tell Kon-El to stay away from my son.”

“They work on the same team,” Clark pointed out, starting to get angry.

“Tim will be leaving the Titans.”

“Because Kon asked him out?” Clark asked, incredulous.  The sheer overreaction was ridiculous.

“Yes.”

“Does Tim want to leave?” Clark asked.  He didn’t know the details of how Kon was planning to ask Tim out, but it was possible that he’d accidentally offended him.  “Maybe I should talk to him—”

“No!”

Clark stared.  Batman didn’t shout.  Batman never shouted.  Batman certainly didn’t ball his hands into fists like he was contemplating punching Clark.  Whatever this was about, it was causing the man to lose his infamous composure.

“You will not talk to Tim.  Your son,” Batman twisted the word and Clark came perilously close to seeing red—“will not talk to Tim.  This will never happen again.  Is that understood?”

Clark took five deep breaths to be able to speak without shouting.  “No,” he said as calmly as he could.  “I don’t understand.  I don’t know why you’re so upset about this.  If there’s a problem, and if the kids can’t solve it on their own, then it becomes my business—”

“There is no problem,” Batman ground out through gritted teeth.

“That’s not what it sounds like to me,” Clark said sharply.  “I don’t know if this is homophobia or xenophobia, but our kids are doing a better job of getting along than we are, and that’s something to be encouraged.”

Batman was silent for so long that Clark actually got out of his chair to make sure the guy was still there.  “Getting along,” the vigilante said finally, words slow and faintly bitter.

“What?”

“This is about getting along,” Batman said.  Clark didn’t know whether it was a question.

“I guess?” he answered.  Kon wouldn’t have asked Tim out unless they’d gotten to know each other, breaking the long-held isolation of the Bats.

Batman’s jaw tightened.  “Okay,” he said.

“Okay?”  Clark was very confused.

“Okay,” Batman repeated.  “We can…get along.”  Clark stared blankly at him.  “Now tell your son to stop.”

Clark immediately protested, but was sidetracked as Batman pulled off his cowl.  Batman never unmasked even though they all knew who he was, and Clark’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of Bruce Wayne’s glittering gray eyes glaring at him.

“Wait,” Clark said, shaking his head, “I’m not telling Kon to stop.  Why are you—”

“Then what do you want,” Bruce snapped.

“For what?”  Clark was keenly aware that he’d lost the thread of this conversation somewhere and he didn’t know where.

“To call your son off!” Bruce said, face narrowed into a glower, but Clark caught the edge of a crack in his tone.  “Do you want me to get on my knees?  Suck you off?  Fuck you?  You—”

“What,” Clark’s voice was the one that cracked this time, embarrassingly high as he swiftly backed away.  “What the fuck.  What are you talking about?!”

“You said,” Bruce said, and Clark abruptly realized that the terseness to his tone was because he pausing to swallow more often.  “You wanted us to get along.”

“Not like that.”

“Kon-El propositioned my son.”

“Kon asked Tim on a date,” Clark said, voice still too high with dawning horror, “because he likes Tim.  Because that’s what kids do when they like one of their friends!”

“Typically,” Bruce said quietly, and Clark could see the fractures in his eyes, “they don’t also have the power to immobilize said friend.”

Clark stared at him, frozen in shock and horror.  He’d been wrong, then, it wasn’t the idea of his son dating a meta that Bruce didn’t like, except it kind of was, it was the idea of his son dating someone with the ability to overpower him.

“Why would you think,” Clark whispered, “that Kon would ever do that?”  Kon was a good kid, a hero, he loved helping people, if Bruce dared to breathe one word about Lex, Clark would eviscerate him—

But no.  Bruce didn’t say Lex’s name.  He didn’t say anything at all, just stared at Clark with a blank expression.  He looked…tense.  Anxious.  There were dark circles under his eyes and the lines on his face skewed to exhaustion.  He hadn’t relaxed his fists.

Clark walked back over to him, slow and even, posture unthreatening.  When Clark was two steps away, Bruce shifted ever-so-slightly, a flinch, a brace for a punch there could be no bracing against.

Clark stopped.  He turned and sat back down in his chair.

“Batman,” he said slowly, heart heavy and aching, “I’m not going to hurt you or your son.  Neither is Kon.  This wasn’t a—a threat, or whatever you thought it was.”  Because Bruce had clearly thought it was a threat, if he came here to bargain Clark into taking him instead.  “Tim does not have to agree to Kon’s date.  If he says no, Kon will leave him alone.  If he wishes to leave the Titans, he can.”

I am not the monster you so clearly think I am, he wanted to scream.

“If that’s all you came here for,” he said, turning back to the reports, “You can leave.”  Clark didn’t know if he could stop himself from venting his feelings if Batman stayed.

#my snippets #bruclark #timkon #bruce is terrified of clark #and unfortunately very good at hiding it #protective bruce

[brucewaynehater101]

Tim could maybe make a fake civilian identity and then kill them off and have them “donate” their spleen to Tim Drake and Tim Drake specifically because they are simply such a huge fan

(He’s a nepobaby CEO vigilante, I have full beliefs that that sleep deprived vigilante has fans who’d donate a spleen if asked)

..... Did this fake person intentionally die just for Tim, and Tim felt this was both realistic and not highly concerning? And his civilian identity still took the spleen?

If that's not what you intended, my bad. That's how I interpreted it, and I was hella concerned for Tim's mental state cause I fully believe he would do that.

Also, yes. I love fics that focus on how the Waynes weirdly are celebrities just for being rich. Tim, as CEO, makes sense if he was a celebrity, but the other Waynes would have to do other stuff to become famous. I have no doubt they would become popular just for the whack stuff they say and do in public (and on film).

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #thank you for the ask!!!!

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Midnight | Chapter 20 | S.R

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Summary - Spencer seeks to enact his ultimate revenge on his biggest demon. You run into a face from your past, but is it simple coincidence?

A/N - we’ve reached the part that Spencer’s story has been leading to. Tread lightly with the next few chapters as they get pretty dark.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - child molester, past sexual abuse of a child, Spencer faces his trauma, past drug use, swearing, making out, cheating, fingering.

WC - 5.5k

Chapter 20 - Unopened Windows

The residential suburb of Summerlin was barely fourteen miles off of The Strip but given the time of night it took Spencer almost forty minutes to drive to. But it would be more than worth it for this kill. 

It was one he’d been thinking about for some time, but one he’d never thought would come to fruition. It was his most dangerous target by far, it broke a lot of Spencer’s own rules he’d put into place when he’d started this vigilante mission. 

But this would be his swan song, his grand finale. It was easily the stupidest idea he’d ever had, and if he were to ever get caught this would be why. But it would be so worth it to say he’d slayed this final monster. 

This one had been over three decades in the making. The man in question, who’s house Spencer had parked the Impala a little way down from, was a serial child molester who had flown under the radar for nearly forty years. Spencer didn’t know exactly how many children had fallen prey to the seemingly innocuous looking man, but he knew his very first victim personally.  

It was entirely plausible the wheels had been set in motion on Spencer’s ultimate demise long before prison, long before he’d even realised it. Maybe he’d been destined to become this person all along. He knew all the facts and figures on the subject, he’d just never thought too much on it in case it was a particular line of thinking he never came back from. 

But there was a definitive link to abusees becoming abusers. On average fifty percent of serial killers suggested they had been psychologically abused as children, while thirty six percent said they experienced physical abuse. And twenty six percent reported suffering sexual abuse during childhood. 

It was a definitive correlation but it didn’t take into consideration the amount of abuse victims who didn’t go on to commit violent crimes or the serial killers who weren’t abused as children. But it certainly bore some kind of relevance. A victim takes back the power they lost by becoming the oppressor. 

Spencer ran his finger over the blunt side of the blade, eyes never leaving that one house. There was a light coming from one of the downstairs windows so he knew his target was home, that’s not why he was waiting. 

Why he was waiting, he wasn’t sure. The sooner he got this over with the better, one less evil in the world. He never imagined this would be so difficult. 

He’d gone two months without killing and he’d hoped he was done. He’d thought maybe the strength of your love had pulled him out of the darkness for good this time. 

But then two days ago he’d awoken from a nightmare, the likes of which he hadn’t had in more years than he could count. It was less a dream than a memory, a memory from when he was just eight years old. The worst moment of his life, worse than his drug addiction, worse than watching Maeve die; even worse than prison. 

He hadn't exactly repressed it, it was more a case of he’d locked it inside a box at the back of his conscious mind and never dared open it. Maybe if he had repressed it he wouldn’t have ended up here. 

It had been what the BAU called his trigger. It was the trigger that set into motion a lifetime of events that had led him to this moment. And the nightmare had only unlocked that box and set the monster free and now it was out, there was no containing it. This man had to die so Spencer could live. 

As he stared at the house he simultaneously had both Cat and Mary’s voices in his head. 

I had Lindsey dose you in Mexico. You lost time. And I gave her very specific instructions to get you in the mood. 

Fine, I’ll tell everyone I know that you sexually assaulted me. 

Stop being the boy who cried rape, Spencie. It’s not a good look. 

So if you don’t give me what I want, I will disgrace the former FBI agent Spencer Reid and tell everyone that you raped me.

And then through the fog appeared another voice, this time his own. 

Do you have any idea how many people are actually assaulted every day? How many don’t report it because they’re scared they won’t be believed? And you want to use their real pain for your own sick gain?

Maybe it was the events with Mary that night that had led him to have that nightmare again after so many years and brought it all back to the foreground of his mind. That horrible nightmare in which he was trapped inside that house with no escape from the one man he was supposed to be able to trust. 

Time was said to heal all wounds but Spencer’s were still just as open as the day as they’d been made, never giving them a chance to scar and mend. 

He suddenly slammed his hand against the steering wheel, subsequently silencing the thoughts that fought for dominance in his fractured brain. It didn’t matter how he’d ended up here, it didn’t matter what had been his undoing. This was his beginning and tonight he was making it his end. 

Spencer had tracked down your demon, now it was finally time to take care of his own. Most children were told about the boogeyman hiding under their bed but the monsters under his bed were never as terrifying as the one who crawled into it. 

At eight years old Spencer Reid had learnt the hard way that he couldn't trust anybody, not even his own family. His future had been written in the stars from the very first time his father had crept into his room and beneath his sheets. 

He slammed the wheel again, closing his eyes tightly against the onslaught of tears that had built up and one last resounding voice cut above all the others. 

It’s ok, daddy will make it all better. Big boys don’t cry, Spencer. 

When he opened his eyes again, he allowed one single tear to fall before he roughly rubbed his eyes free of anymore. Picking up the blade, he pulled at all his bravado and opened the car door.

It was finally time. William Reid had to die. 

Big boys don’t cry dad, but we do grow up to be psychopaths. 

***

After a long soak in the tub and throwing up once more, you put on a little summer dress before texting Spencer on the burner phone that you were heading to the spa and to let you know when he was back. He’d see it once he picked up the phone from Bennington. 

You took the elevator down to the first floor and the hustle and bustle coming out of the casino assaulted your ears. You stepped out, heading in the direction the signs told you the spa was, trying to put distance between yourself and the sounds of coins in slots. 

As you headed further away from one noise, another caught your attention but this one was much more welcoming. The dulcet tones of someone playing piano wafted your way and instantly relaxed any tensions you had in your body. 

You instinctively followed the sound, now ignoring signs for the spa in lieu of finding where the tickling of keys was coming from. It led you into a grand room with a large mahogany bar taking up one wall and plush, velvet armchairs scattered around glass tables. The piano was in one corner, a man in a full suit and tails sitting behind it. 

You glanced around and continued forward. Now you thought about it, you did have a kind of metallic taste in your mouth, a glass of something would go down a treat. You let the music wash over you as you made your way to the bar, taking in all a multitude of liquor bottles on shelves but the thought of any of them made your stomach turn violently. 

What the hell is going on? Why don’t I want to drink? I swear those goddamn hotdogs…

A man with a very fake smile and even faker tan behind the bar greeted you and you reluctantly ordered a soda. You paid the man and picked up your glass before turning on your heels but as you did so, you crashed straight into a hard, broad body. 

Your drink splashed all over both your dress and his shirt and you narrowly avoided dropping the glass. You grumbled under your breath, staring down at your soiled clothing. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t…” you glanced up and met the dark eyes and bearded face and your hand around the glass slipped again and you quickly put it on the bar to avoid breaking it. 

He stared at you but you couldn’t work out what he was thinking, his expression completely unreadable. Your heart drummed against your rib cage as the music continued to play around you. 

“I…what are you doing here?” You swallowed thickly. 

He didn’t even seem to notice his wet shirt, not taking his eyes off of you and you were sure he didn’t look as surprised to see you as you were him. He folded his thick, tattooed arms over his chest and exhaled heavily. 

“Hi Y/N.” Jesse finally spoke. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

***

With the SIG and his hunting knife tucked into the back of his jeans, Spencer snuck down the side of the house and into the backyard through the broken gate. 

It hadn’t been at all hard to find his father, not when the man was such a creature of habit. All those years ago when he’d come face to face with the man again during the course of a case, Spencer had made a mental note of the address in his dad's case file. He’d kept it inside of his head for all these years and it was finally of some use to him. 

Since waking up from that nightmare two days ago he’d thought of nothing but coming here and ending his fathers life. Thankfully when he woke up screaming you’d already been up, in the backyard listening to music that had drowned out his cries. 

Spencer had only ever told one person of the torture he’d lived through at his fathers hands. When Morgan had come clean about his own childhood abuse he’d considered talking to the older man about it but every time he tried he would clam up. Talking about it meant thinking about it and he couldn’t do that. 

The only time he’d ever opened up about it had been completely out of his control, whilst high on dilaudid he’d accidentally let slip his darkest secret. 

“Spencer, Spence…just calm down. Please?” She tried to reach for him to stop his frantic pacing but he shook her off. 

“Can’t. Can’t stop. If I stop they win.” He turned away from her, ducking behind the desk in his living room and rifling through papers.

“Who? Who will win?” She followed him, frowning at her friend. 

“The monsters.” He replied simply. 

“Spencer…”

“They’re everywhere, we can’t stop them all. We can stop some of them but we can’t stop them all. We’ll never stop them all.” He kept moving papers about but she had no idea what he was looking for. 

“Spencer, what are you talking about? Are you…are you high?” Her tone caused him to stop his rampant shuffling and look up at her across the desk. 

“Y-yes.” He nodded. “The drugs make the monsters not seem so scary.” 

She cautiously rounded the desk and placed her hand on his shoulder. She gently guided him away from the desk and over to the couch where they both sat down. 

“Spence, Hankel is dead. He can’t hurt you anymore.” She kept her hand on his shoulder. 

“This isn’t about him.” He spat, furiously grinding his teeth. “Fuck it all came back to me. Carl Buford unlocked that box and while I was in Hankel’s cabin all those memories came flooding out.” 

He rubbed his eyes heavily with his palms, his left leg bouncing up and down. 

“Carl Buford?” She frowned again. “What does he have to do with this?” 

“He hurt Morgan. He hurt Morgan in the worst kind of way. The kind of way that sticks with you for the rest of your life. Never look at yourself the same. Is it my fault? Did I do something to encourage it? My fault, gotta be my fault.” He hit his forehead with his hands a few times, devolving into incoherent muttering. 

She took hold of his wrists and guided his hands away from his face. He looked at her in a doe eyed fashion, looking so small and innocent. 

“Spencer,” she inhaled a shaky breath. “Did someone hurt you in that way? Like Carl Buford did to Morgan?” 

His bottom lip quivered and she saw the tears that quickly sprung behind his eyes. 

“Yes.” He nodded stiffly, pulling his hands free of her hold. “My father.” 

The first time he’d cried and begged his dad to stop but all the times that followed he laid there and waited for it to be over. 

The abuse continued for two years. For two years every time Spencer crawled into his bed at night and he would stare at the door and wonder if his very own boogeyman would surface that night. 

When he was ten and his parents divorced, it was the best day of his life, finding out his father was moving out. He hadn’t realised at the time he’d probably started growing too old for his dad anyway, sexual predators were very specific in their type. It also didn’t occur to him then that he wouldn’t be the only one. 

He was still fairly certain his father assaulted Riley Jenkins. But how many others had there been? How many other kids were terrified of William Reid sneaking into their room at night? Certainly none of the others were the man’s own flesh and blood. 

He crept around to the back of the house, his hands trembling at his sides. He understood now how you could get so emotional when you’d confronted Green. It was different when you knew them. He wasn’t going to be able to distance himself from this like he had the others. This wasn’t some stranger, this was the man who had ruined Spencer’s life. And Spencer was going to look him in the eyes and return the favour as he cut his fathers throat. 

There was something oddly poetic about it. His dad had played a role in giving him life and now Spencer was the one who got to take his fathers away. It was almost a full circle. 

He quietly traversed the back steps up to the screen door. As expected it was open, much like most of the monsters he tracked down. They thought the evil living in that house was far worse than any that lurked outside. His father was about to be proven wrong. 

He inched open the screen door and stepped inside the dark kitchen. The light was coming from the living room and he could hear the TV was on. As he silently padded across the linoleum floor, he withdrew the SIG and pointed it forward in his shaking hand. 

His entire life had been culminating up until this moment. Everything he’d done had led him here. This was the ultimate kill, and once he did this maybe he would finally be able to find peace. 

Killing his father would be Spencer’s crowning glory. And if he got caught because of it, at least he would always be able to say he’d taken out his biggest demon. 

***

“Hi Y/N. Fancy seeing you here.” 

“You don’t seem all that surprised to see me.” You felt a pit forming in your stomach. “Did you follow me here?” 

Jesse pulled a face before he started chuckling, unfolding his arms and letting them fall to his sides. 

“What? Why would I follow you? I’m not a stalker, I swear.” He held his hands up. 

“It seems very coincidental that you’d be here. And you didn’t seem surprised that I was here.” You took a step backward. 

“Trust me when I say I am just as shocked as you are. I’m partly wondering if you even are here or if I'm just going crazy.” He continued to laugh. 

“Why are you here?” You took another step back. 

“I’ve got a buddy from college who moved out here a while back. He’s been trying to get me to come visit for a while and after everything that happened with you it seemed like a good time to get away.” He shrugged. 

Your heartbeat started to return to normal, looking in his eyes you saw no threat. Sure it was a huge coincidence but coincidences happened, right? You were being paranoid. 

“Jesus,” you shook your head. “I’m sorry for being suspicious.”

“It’s ok, I would be too.” He shrugged. “You on your own?” 

“Yeah.” You rolled your lip between your teeth. 

“Can we talk? Somewhere more private?” He stuffed his hands in his pockets almost nervously. 

That didn’t seem like a good idea, you didn’t trust yourself to be alone with him. But nonetheless you started nodding. 

“I’ve got a room upstairs. We can go there.” You turned and motioned for him to follow you. 

This was a horrible idea and once alone in the elevator you already wanted him to put his hands all over you. You kept your eyes on the floor and neither of you spoke as it makes it slow ascent. 

Finally on your floor you led him to your room and slotted the key card in before the door clicked open. You led him inside and he took in the suite with a similar wide eyed awe as you had. 

“Jesus, this one room is bigger than my entire apartment.” Jesse shook his head. 

“Yeah, uh, Spencer’s doing, not mine.” You shrugged awkwardly. “What did you want to talk about?” 

“Mary‘s missing.” He cut right to the chase. “She disappeared the same day you and Spencer did.” 

You felt that pit opening up in your stomach again and you fought to keep your expression neutral. 

“Seriously?” You didn’t trust your voice to say anymore than that. 

“Yeah. And I think you know something about it. It seems too coincidental, don’t you think?” He cocked an eyebrow at you, walking further into the living room of the suite. 

“About as coincidental as you being in Vegas at the same time as me, in the same hotel.” You mirrored his expression. 

“I told you, I’m visiting a college buddy. Thought I’d treat myself to a night in a decent hotel.” He shrugged. 

“What’s his name? Your college buddy?”

“Liam.” 

You couldn’t tell if he was bluffing or not and you hated that. 

“And he lives in Vegas?” 

“Henderson.” He was quick to counter. “Stop changing the subject, Y/N. I think you know what happened to Mary.” 

“I have no idea. Maybe she ran away? She didn’t strike me as being all that responsible.” You shrugged. 

“I don’t think so. She had no money, she worked a ton of jobs so she could get out of Butte but she couldn’t afford it.” He stepped closer.

“Maybe she started charging for her services.” You rolled your eyes. “Being a whore could have been her big payday.” 

“I guess.” He chuckled darkly. “But I don’t think so.” 

“You seem to know her pretty well. And clearly she likes older men. There’s a story there.” You tried to change the subject again, 

“You think I would sleep with Mary?” He scoffed. “I prefer a woman my own age. And you know all about my complicated history.”

“There’s something you aren’t telling me.” 

“How am I suddenly the one on trial?” He heaved a sigh. “Fine, if you must know, my ex, the one who managed the Tin Cup, the one who fled town…she was Mary’s aunt. So I guess I knew her pretty well or whatever. Got invited to some family dinners in the year we dated. Now I’ve been honest with you, it’s your turn. What happened to Mary?”

“I have no idea.” You stepped back when he stepped forward again.

“I think you’re lying.” 

“And I think you don’t know me well enough to know when I’m lying.” Again you stepped back as he stepped closer. 

“Her aunt, Laura, called me after Mary’s mom got in touch with her when she disappeared. Her mom thought maybe she’d run off to visit Laura. So she called me, for the first time in two years I had to talk to her. She was the first woman I got close to after my wife killed herself and she broke my heart. And Mary’s disappearance meant she called me and I had to deal with all that again. So if you did something to her, the least you can do is be honest with me.” He was trying to intimidate you and maybe if you hadn’t dealt with Spencer’s aggressive side for so long it might have worked. 

“I did nothing to her.” You squared your shoulders. “I’m sorry you had to talk to your ex but I have no idea where Mary is.” 

“And I still don’t believe you.” This time when he stepped closer you didn’t move, you weren’t backing down. 

“Then that’s on you.”

“Tell me what happened to her, Y/N.” Another step and he was dangerously close to you, you could smell his woodsy aftershave. 

“I don’t know.” You tried to ignore it. 

“Tell me.” 

“No.” 

“Tell me.” He repeated, raising one of his strong, intricately decorated arms and his large fingers wrapped around your bicep. “Spencer did something to her right? And you’re covering for him. Do you know how foolish that makes you? You think he cares about you? You think he wouldn’t throw you under the bus giving half the chance?”

“You don’t know him.” You shook your head, his grip on you getting tighter. 

“I’ve known plenty of men like him. What did he do to her? Did he kill her?”

“No.” You swallowed, his aftershave assaulting your senses and making your legs tremble. “He didn’t do anything to her.”

“You can tell me, Y/N. Tell me what Spencer did to Mary.” 

“He didn’t do anything to her!” You suddenly raised your voice. “I killed her ok? Is that what you want to hear? She was threatening Spencer. She found out who we were and was blackmailing him for ten grand. She said if he didn’t give her the money she would tell the whole town he raped her! I couldn’t let her do that so I killed her and we buried her body somewhere it will never be found.” 

Jesse’s face paled and his hand fell from your arm and he stumbled backwards a little. Your heart started racing as you realised the words that had just left your lips. He glared at you like you were a stranger. 

“You…she…why would she say that? She’s a bitch sure but surely she wouldn’t…” he trailed off, his voice distant. 

“I heard it with my own ears.” You croaked. “And I just saw red. My sister was raped and murdered when I was seventeen years old and it tore me and my family apart from the inside. I couldn’t bare to hear her spread a fucking lie like that and so I shot her in the back of the head. She never saw it coming.” 

Jesse ran his tongue along his bottom lip, his breathing growing heavy. 

“Jesus Christ.” He grimaced, taking in your words. “Jesus fucking Christ.” 

“Are you disgusted by me?” You pouted. 

He exhaled shakily, his brows furrowing as he tried to process an answer. 

“No.” He shook his head, looking confused by his own voice. “Which says more about me than it does you. I’m not disgusted. I should be, but I’m not. If she would have told everyone that it would have ruined Spencer’s life. What kind of person does that?” 

“An evil one.” You swallowed. 

“Exactly.” He nodded his head in agreement. “So no, I’m not disgusted. But even weirder than that I’m actually incredibly turned on.” 

Suddenly he moved closer to you again, quickly closing the space between you but you held your hands up to stop him. 

“I’m married.” Your voice cracked. 

“No, you’re not.” He tried to move closer once more but again you stopped him. 

“No, I really am this time. As of a few weeks ago.” You held up your left hand, showing him the new ring. 

“Fuck.” He groaned, running his hand over his beard. “I came out here to get over you! Jesus, I barely knew you any time at all, and I didn’t even really know you but I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve been on my own for so long now and I’ve gotten so good at it. But since the first night I met you in the Nickel I never wanted to be alone again. You’re everything I always wanted and more but of course you’re married and I’m such a fucking idiot.” 

“No, Jesse, you’re not an idiot.” You found yourself moving closer to him, bringing your hand up to cup his jaw. 

“Of course I am.” He scoffed. “Only an idiot would fall in love with a woman he doesn’t even know.” 

Your heart grew to double the size hearing those words from his mouth and you couldn’t stop yourself when you suddenly crushed your lips together. 

Jesse instantly kissed you back, cupping your face in both of his hands and parting your lips with his tongue. 

“Say it again.” You mumbled into his mouth. 

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” He repeated, grinding his hips against you. 

Out of nowhere tears sprung to your eyes and when you opened them and pulled back from the kiss they unexpectedly started to fall. Jesse’s face fell. 

“Why are you crying?” He started brushing your tears away with his thumbs. 

“Because when you say it I actually believe it.” You snivelled. “I don’t think I’ve ever really been convinced when he’s said it to me. But I believe you, I believe that you really do love me.” 

“I do.” He nodded. “I shouldn’t. I know nothing about you apart from the fact you killed a person. And that should make me hate you, I should turn you into the cops. But that’s the last thing I want to do.” 

“What do you want to do?” You dared ask him. 

“Oh I think you’ve got a pretty good idea.” With that he kissed you again, one hand moving from your face to your lower back which he used to guide you towards the couch. 

He kept kissing you while he lowered you back to it and crawled on top of you. His erection pressed into your leg and his hand was quickly wandering under your dress and ghosting along your panties. He hissed into your mouth when he felt how wet you were. 

“I love you, Y/N.” He spoke against your lips as his fingers brushed your underwear aside. “I love you so fucking much.” 

You moaned into his mouth when two fingers suddenly entered you and your eyes rolled back in your head as you succumbed to Jesse entirely. 

It was a glimpse into the life you’d never have, one night to see what you and Jesse could have been but never would. After tonight he would leave again and you’d have to let him. He was simply just a window that had to remain closed. 

***

William Reid sat in the old battered armchair watching Family Feud whilst sipping from a mug of tea. The armchair faced away from the kitchen door and enabled Spencer to sneak right up into the doorway. 

His fathers thinning head of hair rested against the back of the chair as he hummed along to the theme tune. Spencer had the SIG pointed at the back of his head as he took a few steps forward into the carpeted living room.

He edged right up behind the chair, the muzzle of the gun just a few inches from the back of his fathers head. He could end this now before William even saw it coming. All he had to do was pull the trigger and it would all be over. 

But he wanted to look him in the eyes, the same way his father always made him do. 

Open your eyes, son. Look at me, don’t be scared. Daddy’s going to take care of you. I said look at me! 

The rage bubbling within Spencer was like nothing he’d ever felt before. This man was responsible for destroying his childhood and the childhood of so many other young boys. The cycle had to end. 

William Reid suddenly tensed in his seat, slowly setting his mug down on the little table next to the chair. Spencer could hear his breathing grow heavier and when he glanced up at the TV he realised why. 

Spencer could see his own silhouette in the small, ancient device and clearly his father had seen it too. William swallowed thickly, his shaking arms raising gradually until they were over his head in surrender. 

“Please don’t hurt me.” His voice trembled as he spoke. “Take whatever you want, b-but I don’t have much.”

“I don’t want anything from you.” Spencer replied harshly, and he saw his father straighten in recognition. “You have nothing I could possibly want.” 

“I should have known this day would come.” William sighed and lowered his arms again. 

Spencer kept the gun focused on his fathers head as he cautiously rounded the chair until he was standing in front of the older man. 

William Reid looked haggard, older than his years. His eyes that had haunted Spencer’s dreams for as long as he could remember had lost their menacing spark. His face was hollow, gaunt even. And he didn’t even look phased by the firearm trained on him. He sighed as though the whole thing was an inconvenience to him. 

His lip suddenly turned up at the corner in a wicked smile that Spencer remembered so well. It caused his stomach to flip and he momentarily felt like that terrified little eight year old begging his dad not to touch him again. 

“You’re all grown up.” William smiled at him, threading his fingers together in his lap. “I missed you, son.” 

Spencer coiled his finger around the trigger, his heart beating loudly in his ears. His father was his one unopened window into his tormented past and today was the day he finally put all those horrid memories to bed and opened that window and at long last be able to breathe fresh air for the first time in over thirty years. 

It was time to break out of the walls of that house his father had confined him to in his memory and set himself free. 

My favorite movies,

Are tales never filmed.

That I dream of living out,

A private screening,

That plays in the field.

But I'm trapped inside this house.

Walk through the halls, trace the walls,

Back to where we made our memories.

See what will never be.

Through unopened windows, bound to my heart,

Fantasy so close, feels so afar.

But I long to break the lock and live among the life we lost,

Through unopened windows, they tear me apart.

I'm sick of hearing,

That time always heals.

Try to tell that to my scars,

Sure, it stopped the bleeding,

And it's harder to feel.

But it really left a mark.

I walk through the halls, trace the walls,

Back to where we made our memories.

See what will never be.

Through unopened windows, bound to my heart,

Fantasy so close, feels so afar.

But I long to break the lock and live among the life we lost,

Through unopened windows, they tear me apart.

All the stories left unwritten,

That we drew up in the past.

It's the game we never went to,

Or the drinks we never had.

As I look up to the stars,

And make a wish to bring you back.

But I curse the roof above me,

And I learn to live behind all these.

Unopened windows, bound to my heart,

Fantasy so close, feels so afar.

But I long to break the lock and live among the life we lost,

Through unopened windows, they tear me apart.

They tear me apart,

They tear me apart.

See what will never be,

Through unopened windows, they tear me apart.

@bubblebuttwade @jay-2s-world @daddy-dotcom @nomajdetective @rebelliousstories

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[the-batcomputer-project]

Batkids Hobby Headcanons

Dick - Gymnastics is the most obvious one. When he was younger, Bruce initially didn't want him to compete in competitions, or even join a team, because Dick would have an "unfair advantage". However, he eventually gave in and allowed him to join the school's team. Another hobby he has is baking. In most cases, he is forbid from the kitchen, however he is a fantastic baker. He is also very good at making fantastic stews, which Alfred has even claimed to be better than his own.

Jason - He's a literature nerd, with a particular love for the classics; Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte are his favorite authors. However, we all know Jason is a theater kid at heart. He did every school play at Gotham Academy, and though he hasn't acted in anything since his resurrection, he still goes to local theaters with Alfred fairly often. He's also a fantastic cook, and the only person in Wayne Manor (other than Alfred) to never receive any sort of kitchen ban.

Tim - Photography is Tim's favorite hobby. His first camera was one of the most meaningful presents from his parents when he was younger, winning several photography competitions. He hasn't indulged as often since becoming a vigilante. Barbara still keeps him on-call as her blackmail collector though, which he does happily. He's also into skateboarding, finding skate parks to be a nice escape when he needs time alone. Many of his photo shoots occurred at the skate parks, for very emotionally charged urban photography. Other than those, he likes disassembling things to see how they work. This destructive hobby was punished and frowned upon when he was younger, but when Bruce discovered that Tim enjoyed taking things apart, would start leaving things around for him to play with, like old microwaves, or failed bat-projects. Tim also loves comic books, of which he has an impressive collection.

Damian - Art is something Ra's looked down upon, calling it "weak" and "insubstantial in society". However, it was still something Damian enjoyed, so he had to keep his hobby a secret. He was terrified Bruce would kick him out, when he found the sketchbooks hidden in Damian's room, however Bruce just asked if there were any supplies Damian wanted. He's still a bit self conscious of his art, but he is more open, giving paintings to his family as gifts, and even entering in an art show. He still has a fascination with knives from his time with the League of Assassins, and enjoys collecting ones that interest him, particularly vintage knives, and unique knives made out of unconventional materials, or those with intricate designs. Jon was the one to get him into video games, which he denies enjoying, but the hours he's put into Cheese Viking would say otherwise.

Cass - Ballet was one of the first things she fell in love with after being adopted. It was so similar to how she was raised-people talking with their bodies-but without the violence she so loathed. She easily convinced Bruce to sign her up for classes, and for once, it was something she could do, to communicate with people in a way she knew well. Another interest she picked up was astrology. It was something fun that she didn't necessarily believe in, but was a comfortable guidance. Damian hand painted her a custom tarot deck, and she has a small collection of crystals she finds pretty. Zatanna has offered to enchant some of them for her, but Cass declined the offer, saying that giving them actual magic enchantments removes the aspect of belief that she found comforting. She understood that the black tourmaline necklace Bruce bought her wouldn't actually keep her safe, but it gave her comfort, and a sense of safety, especially because it was a gift from her dad. (author's note: I don't actually know that much about astrology, tarot, and crystals, so if anyone wants to add to this and give a more realistic description of how it works, I would love to see it)

Steph - similar to Dick, she is a gymnast, though not quite at Dick's level. She is also into martial arts and has taken a few classes in Taekwondo and Boxing, and whatever other free classes were being offered at the community center. Cartoons and anime are pretty big interests, as well as video games. She often jumps around from hobby to hobby, and has several miscellaneous skills in a little bit of everything. (author's note: a lot of Steph I based off of myself. She's a character I relate a lot to, so a lot of myself is projected into her. Her height and weight being one of them. However, that was also because DC doesn't seem to know what a human woman looks like, because most of the female characters in the Batfamily are 5'4" or 5'5", and around 120 lbs, including Steph. So I just borrowed by height and weight from highschool, when I was at peak physical fitness, at the gym 4 times a week, and doing 2 sports, once meeting 2 times a week and the other meeting 3 times a week. That would place her at 5'8" and 155lbs, which is far more reasonable for an active vigilante. rant over). She also feels like the kind of person who would be into scrapbooking. Most of her pictures are stolen from Tim, and the pages are brightly colored with fun stickers and glitter.

Duke - he gives off the vibe of a soccer player. However, because of his focus on school and crime fighting, he just plays for the rec team. It's a fun activity that he can enjoy when he was time, and also use to explain away his fitness level and injuries. He's also a huge movie buff, enjoying to analyze every aspect of the film, from the characters, to the camera work, to the framing of each scene. He isn't as interested in making his own movies, but gets very into it when he does. Quentin Tarantino is his favorite filmaker, however Damian has stared getting him into foreign films as well.

#dc universe #batfamily #batfam headcanons #dc comics #dick grayson #jason todd #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #tim drake #damian wayne #duke thomas #headcanon

[captainsweet]

My Twin is fr like a More Violent Casey Jones and I didn't even think that was possible until I actually listened to what they said for once.

Dude breaks a leg every other day and is super violent yet dies as soon as a roach is in the room, L on his part.

Anyway Wish him and the Other One Happy Birthday rn because they won't get it and it'll be super funny.

#No I am not joking #They WOULD become a Vigilante if they could #And if they would live #And there was crime #All in all they would totally do it and I think he would actually handle his own #People didn't get sent to the Hospital for nothing #Casey Jones #Wish him a Happy Birthday #Today is both of their birthdays so do it #This is in fact a threat #birthday #Happy Birthday #I find it real funny I'M the Raph in this situation #Despite Raph being more violent canonically #I think #The Other One is the Michelangelo #So please drone on about their coolness and how amazing the are at Chess #It doesn't have to make sesnse just do it #This is not an option #tmnt #Michelangelo

[jasontoddsguns]

Acknowledging that Robin is inherently a child-solider even with the complicated situation surrounding it 🤝 understanding that it’s fictional and that it’s the younger readers self-insert.

#dc #batman #bruce wayne #robin #jason todd #dick grayson #Tim Drake #damian wayne #‘’it helped them- they needed it’’ #their severe truama say different #‘’they would have become vigilantes anyway’’ #with what resources? also: that still doesn’t make it right #‘’he could monitor them so that it would be safer’’ #two of them literally fucking died. #“he couldn’t stop them’’ #maybe with tim- but still if your kid is doing drugs (yes I’m equating vigilantism to this) you’d do everything in your power to stop them. #you wouldn’t just give up #you can enjoy fictional media but most be able to think critically #ideally #sorry for the rant

[benbamboozled]

I would actually kind of like the “becomes a doctor and takes over Leslie’s clinic” story…for Damian.

NOT because I think it would be ~ethical~ or idk whatever-the-fuck.

I just really love the concept of Damian having this “I HAVE A BIG IMPORTANT DESTINY” backstory/lineage/bloodline …

…SON OF THE BAT, and all that jazz…

But when he connects with Gotham and the people in it—because Batman should be connected to the people he’s protecting—Damian realizes that he doesn’t actually WANT “his” destiny.

And it’s not about rejecting Batman or his father or his mother or anything like that, but instead about taking what he’s learned and what they’ve given him and shaping it to fit himself.

#Damian Wayne #meta I guess? #obviously no judgment for the people who like Batman!Damian—he’s just not for me. #i mean my dream Damian series is a pretty much entirely ‘mundane’ combo of noir and slice-of-life… #…to contrast his epic background with the regular fucking people that he’s taken on protecting by becoming a Gotham vigilante. #i think also one of the elements would be commenting on the Bats’ (and Bruce in particular) Control Freak tendencies… #and the theme that you really can’t ‘control’ life. #for example: an element of drama could be that Damian checks in with people during patrol/during cases but… #he still has to go to school and do normal life stuff. (or normal for him.) #so during the *day*—maybe one of his ‘people he is friendly with’ has some mundane bad thing happen to them and dies. #like idk maybe an old lady friend has a heart attack and dies. #what do you do when there isn’t an enemy to fight? #just ‘move on’? isn’t the whole reason they do what they do predicated on his father NOT accepting that he should ‘just move on’? #anyway there would also be metacommentary about the nature of comics and that… #…you don’t really have control about what happens after your series or after your run. #or even what happens to a character YOU create.

[dracaelus]

Not enough writers exploring the idea of bruce retiring from batman and becoming the bats new tech guy once lucius fox dies/retires. Like, bruce is actually pretty good at coming up with new gadgets and incorporating new/alien technologies into the bat stuff so really, I think it would be really cool?? Also, he could help oracle on his free time, and I feel like this would work really well with his paranoid and controlling tendencies, and he would be thriving in a job like this. Not to mention that he would still be helping the league with strategies, research and the diplomatic stuff, so no need for him to stop working with them. And he still has his charity work as bruce wayne.

So my point is, while of course we can all agree that everything bruce does as batman is important, I wouldn't say that activelly being on the field is the most important of his tasks, especially by the time he gets old and has dozens of allies doing it with him. I mean, he already trained a lot of heroes to work in gotham and there's a few of them who are just as skilled as him, some who are even better, so really, him retiring from that and focusing on his other duties as he gets older feels very natural and a much more compelling plotline to follow than just yk killing him off and then having the batfam fight about who's gonna take the mantle (i don't even think someone needs to)

#so many writes making plotlines about batman changing and becoming something NEW and IMPROVED bc gotham changed and he's older #and bro i'm not seeing it i'm not seeing the change #drac rambles #also i just love when characters think they're gonna die fighting and never get to be old but then they survive and have the opportunitie to #enter a new chapter in their lives and really start thinking about what they wanna do now that they plan to live and have a future #<- having flashbacks about dean winchester btw #but yeah let bruce be old and thriving! #also if we could get to see both him and ghostmaker retiring at the same time #and discovering what they're gonna do now together #just like they learned how to fight and become vigilantes together #my heart would be very pleased 🥀 #batman #bruce wayne

[naffeclipse]

Alright, the second one is more of a scenario than an ask, but like:

I wonder, after a while, after making progress and having proven to y/n that he really is making an honest effort to better himself, when the hurt has had some time to heal, what if one time when he is feeling frustrated, maybe a bad day in which old habits want to resurface with a vengeance, what if he asks y/n how they did it? How in the world did they manage to just decide to be better? To realize they didn't like who they were and changed tracks so easily? Change so much of who they were, not lose themself, and on top of that alone?

(I imagine at least, he doesn't know that they weren't completely alone. Michael was there. They too had someone that was like a brother for them to lean on. The one family member they decided to keep from that horrible past.)

I am chomping at the bit over this and I'm finally ready to give you an answer.

Eclipse comes to them, fists shaking as he clenches his fists until they hear metal scraping, and asks them 'how?' How did they leave behind everything they were, everything they did, and simply become better?

It wasn't simple. The vigilante tells him that, first, it almost killed them in a way they hadn't known they could die. It wasn't with a bullet or a knife or heavy rocks in a river. It was realizing that they were no better than what first set them down this path of survival.

The vigilante has seen Eclipse progressing, has accepted his apology, and sees the hurt in his dark optics. They trust their gut. It's time to tell him something he didn't know about them.

Vanny took them away as a child and the one person who could have stopped the gangster could have saved them, looked the other way. A cop paid off.

The vigilante realized they were just the same as that police officer, just as corrupted and cruel when they handed that child to William Afton. They were no better than the evil that made them into Afton's loyal dog.

If surviving meant this, Y/N didn't want to survive anymore. They didn't want to look in the mirror and see themselves as another reason a child is left to suffer because no one else cared enough to save them. Apathy is no longer an excuse. They must care, or they must die a very real but not physical death, and to save themselves, Y/N acted to stop the hurt despite having spent so long numb and deliberately ignoring the pain outside of them. It was dreadful and it was almost too much to face, but they did it, and they did it by first asking for help.

Eclipse's hands have stopped shaking when the vigilante finishes. They place their palm over his curled fingers and slowly turn his large hand until they can see his palm. They smile and draw a little circle on his shadowy silicon and tell him he's doing just fine. He just has a little further to go. One day, it will be as simple as breathing, as pulsing with electricity, but right now, it's okay. He has his brothers, and he has a rather dashing vigilante, too.

#basically they had to become better or they would die morally spiritually mentally what have you #they could have easily dissolved into afton's loyal dog and be his ever effective gangster #but no #they choose to care even if it hurt even if it still hurts #because the city needs someone too #and now they have two favorite detectives and a favorite bounty hunter who needs them to care too #eclipse takes this all in as a very beautiful moment between him and the vigilante #he won't forget it #sleuth jesters #bounty hunter!eclipse #chaotikanvas

[menciemeer]

It's interesting to me that (unless I really missed something) after the point where Hannibal sends Dolarhyde after Will's family, Will stops framing his work on the Red Dragon case as something altruistic.

Prior to that, Will talks about saving people. He even, immediately before the attack on his family, tries to convince Hannibal to help him via an appeal to his better nature (!!!)

WILL GRAHAM Do you know who they [the family that Dolarhyde is going to target] are? HANNIBAL Yes. WILL GRAHAM You're willing to let them die. HANNIBAL They're not my family, Will. And I'm not letting them die. You are.

(Which, just, listen. Hannibal is maybe the single least likely person, ever, to be swayed by the argument "maybe it would be better if fewer people died." Honestly.)

I just think it's interesting that after the attack on Will's family, that whole motivation (or pretense-at-motivation) is quietly dropped. It's not about saving the next family and it's not even really about the fear that Dolarhyde will try to finish the job. ("I can't go home until the Red Dragon is out of the way" reads more psychological to me than a statement of actual physical danger, although the viewer does also have more direct insight into Dolarhyde than Will does, and we know that he doesn't really seem interested in trying again...)

Will starts drifting further into Dolarhyde's mindset right at the end of the season, and by the time the final fight at the cliff house happens, it doesn't really feel about anything other than self-actualization. Will enacts his own becoming upon Dolarhyde. It's not about who Dolarhyde is or what he might do in the future so much as it is about Will, and what Will wants.

Anyway. The whole point of this is that it's a fun alternative (and, yes, compatible) motivation for Hannibal to direct Dolarhyde at Will's family in the first place. Will came back to the FBI and he came back to Hannibal, but he wrapped himself in a shroud of morality that doesn't align with Hannibal's view of Will's underlying self. Beyond the jealousy angle, Hannibal is making Dolarhyde bad in a way that is immensely personal to Will, so that Will can't deny that how good it would feel to hurt him.

#this was meant to be short but maybe it's medium now #oh well #i've got some postscript thoughts too #which are that #i'm not particularly sold on the idea that will's final evolution is a particularly justice-oriented killer #i don't really have solid evidence to point to which is why this is going down here #it's more just a personal preference than anything i can argue for #it just feels like a whole lot to go through just to end up as a vigilante you know #like you did all that so that you could become a marvel protagonist #really? #so. it feels like there would be more of this chipping away at will's boundaries and self-narrative in their future #from “a man so bad that killing him felt good” to just #“killing him felt good” #hmm hmm hmm #hannibal

[batfamdcposts]

Cass should take over Batman and Tim should take over WE send tweet

#this sounds like a shitpost but listen #when bruce retires or passes he leaves a massive legacy #dick doesn’t want batman #he grew into something right for him #and taking that away just so gotham doesn’t explode is tragic at best #jason has a fundamental but understandable disagreement with bruce’s stance on killing #and he’s created something for himself based on his experiences too #batman cannot kill #and jason moulding himself into the bat would also be sad for more reasons than I can list here #tim doesn’t want batman and needs to continue building his own vigilante mantle #plus he’s way too prone to depressive episodes (he’s not alone in that regard) and taking over the bat wouldn’t be good for him #he’d lose himself in it too easily and needs to put more focus on his civilian life #oh also didn’t a future version of him become batman and end up killing damian #steph would hate it and also she’s built something incredibly valuable already I don’t need to elaborate #duke could do a good job but wouldn’t like it #and oh damian #damian deserves to be free of both legacies that were forced on him as a child #he can be a vigilante but he deserves to persue what makes him happy #and allow himself to do so #personally I see him becoming a veterinarian #and staying as robin unless he takes up nightwing when dick retires #being pulled into batman wouldn’t be good for damian in the long run #but cass!!! cass could do it and simultaneously fully live #she’s adamant in her stance on killing and wouldn’t need a child to pull her out of the darkness that the bat can become #plus her fighting skill is unparalleled #her knocking bruce on his ass is one of my favorite comic panels lmao #as for WE #dick and jason would hate all the fake smiles and bullshit #cass and duke would hate the tediousness of it and damian deserves to be free from what he believes he’s supposed to do #but tim thrives amongst snakes and would need an outlet for ruthlessness as long as he’s reminded that there are genuine people who love him

[phantomchick]

Looking back on Batman (2022)

Enough time has passed now that my initial adrenaline rush )and then later afterglow) over Batman 2022 has resolved itself at least enough that I can look back on the film a bit more critically.

I enjoyed this movie, I enjoyed this Batman, but and this is a big but, this movie did not like Batman.

The thing about Batman is that he's a grim dark fantasy where a hero who's in pain can use that pain as a motivation to help people, to change things, to strive for a better Gotham because he just can't fucking accept the Gotham that allowed his parents to get killed while coming home from the movies, that kills so many other parents and children and sucks the people that remain into a mire of corruption and austerity. This is not that Batman, this is a Batman that's utterly oblivious to the problems with wealth inequality until the movie rubs in his face and even then has his inaction in his role of Bruce Wayne while letting his Batman role monopolise his every waking thought presented as his main problem. This is not a Batman that announces to a dinner party, “Ladies. Gentlemen. You have eaten well. You've eaten Gotham's wealth. Its spirit. Your feast is nearly over. From this moment on...none of you are safe.”. That attacks violent crime on two fronts by giving legitimate jobs to ex cons by day and solving kidnapping or murder cases by night.

And most crucially this isn't a Batman that ... succeeds. By that I mean yes he solves the grand mystery, yes he saves people in the flood, but the classic Batman would have saved that man he interrupts the bomb disposal squad to answer Riddler's phone call for. The classic Batman would have saved Falcone, evil doer that he is, not because he deserved to live but because Batman is a hyper competent hero who's comic gimmick was that he was quick witted enough to stay ahead of the crooks and always save the person in front of him as a result, perhaps it's only natural for that to be subverted with the Riddler as his enemy (a character invented with the intent of putting the detective hero to the test when it came to his cerebral limits) but because this is a stand alone film, which as the name says has this Batman stand alone with the contents as the only basis to judge him with it has the effect of making his presence as a hero less warranted. After all, does Batman's presence in this film really save anyone besides the flood victims and Selina?

Yes the only victims who really get killed are all bad people but... that's not the point of Batman, the point is that he saves everyone he can.

The film also does the whole 'batman creates his own villains and actively makes the city worse because he espouses vengeance and violence' thing which egh, slightly more palatable with the transition from vengeance to hope, but I really don't fucking like it all the same. And besides that I dislike the idea that vengeance can't be hopeful, that a man who lost everything in one terrifying night, who got no justice, whose loved ones and personal loss and whose innocence remain unavenged saying to himself "I am justice, I am vengeance, I am the night!" as a way of reclaiming everything that's happened to him and everything he wants to be for the people of Gotham whose cries go unanswered by corrupt law enforcement and an even more corrupt bureaucracy, is presented as invalid, as somehow immature. When Batman was always crafted as a mature hero in the mold of the Scarlet Pimpernel and Zorro and James Bond, of Sherlock Holmes! That was part of his central appeal! He's the cool mature down to earth, detective hero.

Here he is reduced to a naive rich boy who's so ignorant his main approach to crime is to inefficiently beat the shit out of whatever hoodlums he encounters and who literally doesn't have the idea of using his money to fix the poverty or corruption fuelling the crime until Riddler highlights what his parents wanted to do for the city by denigrating it + the politician lady who repeatedly points it out. It's a movie that loves Batman but also passionately declares the stupidity of Batman. Perhaps that's also inevitable because solving crime by beating it up while dressed as a Bat is well, silly, when you approach it with real world cynicism instead of the wish fulfillment, the fantasy of being rich and powerful and smart enough to actually do something about an entire city that's drowning in crime, that has been drowning, suffocating, for decades, and have a hope of succeeding. There is no fun of acting like an airhead so the other rich people and crooks will underestimate and look down on you like they look down on everyone in the city as you use your access to learn things people outside that circle of rich opportunists can't and then use it to reveal their crimes as a vigilante whose identity no one suspects. Instead we have a traumatised Bruce Wayne openly beg Don Falcone for information who indulges him because he owes his father that favour and Bruce Wayne isn't a threat, is it interesting pathos? Definitely! Is it dramatic and fun! Also yes! Is it traditional Batman/Bruce Wayne secret identity shenanigans? Well kind of in that it gets him the extra information but genuinely not so much because it's not really an act. Does it have to be traditional Batman? I really don't know. We can't ever create something refreshing like this movie was if we don't try to deviate from the norm and in that regard I think it deserves respect. And yet. There's a but.

This movie doesn't let Batman succeed at anything but the bare minimum as a vigilante but it does let him try his best, always and it lets him care, deeply. Which is enough that it pulls through as a good batman film. However for all the budget and clever characterisation I don't think it's a great Batman film. After all Batman is a superhero fantasy and in those, the good guys are allowed to save the day.

#and yet #batman 2022 #bruce wayne #meta #thoughts #personal #batman 2022 meta #batman #something about how he doesn't prevent the flood but does save some people in it could be a great metaphor #for how batman in the comics can't ever fix gotham (because then the comic would end) but he can save people who live there #but i don't actually think that's what they meant to do here #my main problem is the movie clearly doesn't approve of vigilantism and like that's fine but it's a movie about a superhero #and it never lets us really suspend our disbelief because it's too busy being cynical about the whole concept #and like maybe that too is refreshing in its way? the whole this is a stupid way to deal with crimes thing is true #but it also fails to acknowledge that #what other recourse is there? with a police force that's literally in the pocket of the mob #when you look at it like that batman becomes a much more understandable alternative course of action #and a vehicle of narrative catharsis for people who know the law isn't protecting them but still desire justice #desire that the criminals be they the rich defrauding them of what little money they have or the mob bosses actually will see consequences #the whole concept of vengeance is too readily dismissed as toxic and as diametric to hope imo #like yeah i'm all in on a redemptive justice system that actually helps people reform but the idea #that bad powerful people shouldnt be made to face consequences by batman if no one else (because cops and lawyers and politicians won't) #is dismissed soooooo readily to the point where bruce's initial stance on justice as vengeance is presented as two dimensional #something about that bothers me #and i think also gets to the core of batman as a character and to the core of why I can't fully vibe with this presentation of him #for all its many boons

[gothamcityneedsme]

How do you get Bruce Wayne out of your life?

@abysskeeper Probably impossible for MY life, and equally impossible for the protagonist of this piece. AKA Weiss Schnee from RWBY.

I WILL make Icebat a real ship. And i WILL write a fic for it. Weiss Schnee/Bruce Wayne will be real. It IS real, as far as I'm concerned.

My whole premise for this is focusing first on Weiss' backstory and character (and how she is going to be for the DC Universe), since she's the most unique change I'm looking to make in the typical Batman mythos.

So I've inserted the Schnees as manufacturers and socialites in Gotham who were not one of the founding families, but still are known as old money and very well-established. (I do this so they can be inserted easily into the Court of Owls as members)

Weiss doesn't know the dark side of her family, but she has sniffed into things enough to know that she doesn't want to remain close to them, and that she envisions a very different life for herself. (I am undecided on if Winter escaped through the military like RWBY, or if she met a darker end at the hands of the Court--perhaps even being a Talon).

Regardless, Weiss basically disgraces herself as she rejects being the heir (which unknowingly saves her from being forced into the Court). Since she knows nothing, she isn't worth killing, and is merely a major disappointment, and is effectively blacklisted from all high society and business in Gotham.

She decides to try to use her voice, one of the only things she truly has left, to make her new life. She gets a few small jobs at bars and is able to sing for entertainment. Eventually, though, she ends up gaining the attention of Oswald Cobblepot. He knew her from both reputation and high society (when he himself was more permitted among the noncriminal elements), and he invites her to come under his employ at the Iceberg Lounge. He is still a known criminal, spending time in and out of Blackgate Prison, but he does have enough above-the-radar business that Weiss is willing to say yes. It helps that her situation is desperate.

So, she becomes the Ice Queen of the Iceberg Lounge. Bruce Wayne, who knew her from socialite life, is alarmed to learn she is now working for the Penguin, and is concerned that this girl he knew as a somewhat friend is possibly getting pulled down a bad path. He meets her, offers to help her himself, help she rejects. She is well aware how her family has been blacklisted, and she refuses to let that negatively affect Bruce or Wayne Enterprises. (Penguin, of course, is already blacklisted from such legitimate business himself--he loses nothing by employing her, and he actually *gains* a way to snub the high society life that has rejected him from even before he became a criminal).

Bruce still tries to help, to convince her to be somewhere else. She continues to resist, determined to make her own way, and to not make others suffer for her own dream of independence. That's where the story begins.

Eventually, Weiss will gain ice superpowers and become a vigilante, but that's a whole other part of the story. Also of note is that this takes place during the Jason Robin era, although I do think the story would continue beyond that as well, it just starts there.

Anyways, a scene, I've probably shown this one before to you, but the first time she runs into Batman and Robin is in the Iceberg Lounge, by accident (they are breaking in lmao):

also a bit i quite like, from Bruce talking to her:

#shitpost #also of note is that other than her family I don't really intend to include other RWBY characters #like this is just inserting Weiss and the people who are required for her existence into the DC Universe #and I think I would want to focus on DC characters. I guess my opinion could change #but I just don't want my story to get too bloated or have some huge scope #I just basically want to re-envision the Batman timeline with the inclusion of Weiss #kinda throwing her into the Batfam as ultimately a love interest for Bruce #But it would be slow burn and like. Some sparks are there from the start but it would take forever for anything to happen #A friendship and like. Working relationship has to happen first esp as Weiss becomes a vigilante #which she does out of again her wish to be free and also just #wanting to be able to use what she has gained (by almost dying) to save others #man i think about this AU too much #IVE PUT A LOT OF WORK INTO THINKING ABOUT IT... AND I LIKE IT A LOT OKAY #long post sorry lmao

[robocops-a-christ-allegory]

Sorry for the constant vigilante posting as of late the dorian custom is destroying my life anyway I am thinking about Vigilante as like some horrible curse that nobody realizes is a curse until its too late and their entire personal life is in ruins because they wanted to kill people. I just think Vigilante As A Curse is such good stuff.

#I dont think it should ever become literal it should just remain like #it having the vibes of a curse. I think the costume is hateful though. #That thing hates. #I still want a new vigilante #I know the right move would be to bring Adrian back first but nobody whos not a BATFAMILY PERSON is getting like #a continuinity right now so bring back some asshole #I'd like Patricia or Dorian obviously but Alan and Dave would be really funny picks #GREG DOES NOT COUNT #GREG DOES NOT COUNT AS A MODERN VIGILANTE HES A WHOLE DIFFERENT THING #DC CAN YOU HEAR ME I WILL NOT ACCEPT GREG. #Dorian would be hilarious since his whole thing relies on Vigilante 1983 Having Happened and #Adrian Already Being Dead #Patricia too but you could swing a Patricia with Adrian still around somewhere #one of them would need a different costume unless you wanna just ignore that but. you could do it.

[castdowns]

misogynoir is suffocating me and i can’t help but wonder if people are just placating me until i kermit *dabs*

#like this is anniversary of Trayvon martins death and people are congratulating a vigilante for ending it im just. #in perpetual crisis and that’s fine #castdowns.txt #what else would i be #how else could i make sense of this madness #i cannot become desensitized but i am tired of being in pain