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catxsnow · 4 years

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NERVOUS J.T.

Request: Hello! I would love a fluffy Jason x reader where he goes and buys a engagement ring and says 'I'm rly nervous what if she says no I'm not good enough for her' and dick says BOI JUST DO IT and he does and fluff and crying (from both reader and Jason?!!! :000).

Warning: fluff

A/N: I’m losing followers + Raptors won tonight so HA suck it Celtics

Word Count: 1.8k

Jason and Dick didn't always see eye to eye. They had their fights and disagreements. Neither of them could be in a room for too long together before one was storming out in rage and frustration. At the end of the day, they were brothers, as much as they didn't always want to be.

So, when Jason showed up at Dick's apartment, out of the blue and in civvies, he was more confused than anything. Jason didn't just come by to have coffee and a chat, he came by for business and that was it. Nonetheless, Dick invited him into his home and offered him a drink.

The couch shook as Jason bounced his leg up and down nervously. It was rare to see him like this - he always exuded confidence. Dick handed him the mug of hot tea and sat on the chair across from him. Without evening having to ask, Jason started to spill why he was so antsy.

"It's (Y/N)."

"Are they okay?" Dick asked, suddenly concerned. He had been the one to introduce you to Jason all those years ago. The two of you clicked instantly and it hadn't taken long for him to fall in love with you. You and Jason had been through lots - running with the Outlaws, fighting along side the Great Batman, the two of you have even been to hell and back

No matter what it was, you were always at Jason's side - and he at yours. Dick had never seen such a perfect couple together, he didn't know what Jason would be like if he didn't have you. As the two of you grew, so did your relationship. You became a more mature couple, not just the young, reckless kids you used to be.

Crime fighting was no longer the priority, it was each other. Jason was always going to keep you safe, whether it was day to day life or stopping crime. You had each other's backs constantly. Now, it was time to make that a little more permanent.

Jason rustled his hand in his pocket to find the small velvet box that he had picked up several weeks ago. To be honest, he had impulsively bought it. Now, he was unsure of what to do with it and nervous as hell about what you would think of it.

"Holy shit, man," Dick's eyes widened as he looked at the beautiful engagement ring inside the box. He grabbed the ring from his brother to look at it better. If he knew you well enough - which he did - Dick knew that you were going to absolutely love this. It was exactly your style. "This is amazing!"

"You think they'll like it?" Jason nervously asked. He had not once brought up the idea of marrying you. For years, you thought that he was just content on how your relationship was - not that you thought any differently. Marriage never seemed like an option for either you, your lives were far too busy.

Jason hadn't thought about it for a long time. He didn't think that he needed to marry you to prove his love to you. But, as he passed that jewelry store, all he could think about would be how stunning you would look walking down the isle. As soon as that image popped into his head, he knew he needed to make it a reality.

"I think they'll love it," Dick confirmed. He handed the ring back over to Jason, who tossed the box around in his hands. The first Robin could tell that he wasn't quite convinced by his answer. "You don't think so?"

"I don't know," Jason admitted. "We've been together for so long, but what if that's just because it's easier this way. What if they don't actually love me? What if they say no? I don't want to lose them just because I want to take this extra step."

"You're not going to lose (Y/N), Jaybird," Dick assured. There was no one more perfect for Jason, than you. Everyone knew that, the second that they saw you guys together they assumed that you had already been married. Hell, half the time you acted like it. "They love you, more than anything. Besides, (Y/N) is the best thing to have ever happened to you, there's no way you'll give up on that love so easily."

"Has (Y/N) ever talked to you about a wedding?" Jason asked. He knew that you were friends with Dick for a long time, if there was anyone that would hear about your secrets, it was him. As much as he didn't like you being friends with his older brother, there were times that he was thankful for it.

"No," Dick shook his head. You had never even toyed with the idea of marriage, or maybe you had just kept your thoughts silent. Either way, neither of the men had a clue about what you thought of it. "They're happy with you no matter what. Propose to them, they'll be excited. I know it."

"I hope you're right, Dick."

In all your time that you had known Jason, he had never seemed nervous to you.

Jason was always confident in everything he did - or at least showed that he was. Whether it was beating the ever living hell out of someone or flirting with you, he showed that he knew exactly what he was doing. That was one of the things you loved about him - he was confident.

In all your time that you had known him, Jason proved every day how much he loved you. Whether it was making you breakfast in the morning, buying you flowers out of the blue, or being the hidden romantic that he likes to be. There has never been a time that you doubted his love for you.

For the first time in a long time, Jason had offered to take you on a date. The two of you got dressed up all fancy and headed to some expensive restaurant that you weren't sure you could afford. It was a pleasant surprise to see Jason dressed up in a suit. He looked handsome, but when didn't he?

Throughout the entire night, Jason wavered been the utmost adoration for you, and a state of anxiety. You could see this struggle within him, and upon asking why, he didn't give you a straight answer. Jason often shrugged off his feelings, even when it came to you. It wasn't a surprise when he did it again.

In the end, you had a delicious meal, and an excellent time with Jason, even though you were still worried about him. You hadn't noticed, but Jason continuously shifted the small velvet box in his pocket. That was the reason he had been so nervous.

Jason had full intentions to ask you while you were having your dinner. He had chickened out at every opportunity that he had gotten. Now, the two of you were walking hand in hand as the sun set in the sky. Your home wasn't far away, and instead of hailing a ride, you decided to walk. Any peaceful time spent with Jason was well worth anything.

"You've been acting off all night, Jay," You brought up, again. Jason's hand tightened around yours for a brief moment. "Are you sure you're okay? Bruce isn't getting to you again is he? I'll got talk to him, he doesn't scare me, you know." Yes he did.

Jason chuckled at you, just another thing that he loved about you. You were always willing to protect him against all odds. "No, I haven't talked to Bruce in months," Jason assured you. He stuck his hand in his pocket once more, the heat of the box burning through his skin. "I love you."

"I love you, too," you reached up to kiss him. Jason smiled into the kiss before pulling away. His smile quickly turned into a frown. This had only made you more nervous about what was going through his head at the moment. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just," Jason stuttered over his words. Seeing him nervous like this, it wasn't something you were used to. "I love you, more than anything in this world. And I know that this life that I'm trapped in isn't ideal, and I'm sorry for dragging you in it. But, I wouldn't change anything if it meant I got to have you for the rest of my life.

"You mean everything to me, and I don't know what I'd do without you. You're the person that drives me to be better, to come come home every night. You're the reason that I smile and laugh. I guess what I'm trying to say is... (Y/N) (L/N), will you marry me?"

Jason pulled out the box from his pocket. Just as he was nontraditional in every sense possible, he was with this as well. Instead of getting on a knee, Jason held the opened box towards you, an obvious tremble in his hands. He was far too nervous to move from his spot and get down to the ground.

Tears stung your eyes, never had you imagined Jason would want to get married. You always assumed that he was happy with your relationship and never needing to conform to society's wish of marriage. You were content with that, but marriage was always something you wanted, only with him.

All the words you wanted to say were stuck in your throat. You wanted to scream to the world that you were going to marry the man you loved. You wanted everyone to know just how lucky you were. Instead, all you could manage was a head nod and a massive grin on your face. Jason's nerves finally broke.

He matched the grin that you had and wrapped you in his arms. Without any effort at all, Jason hoisted you off the ground and spun you around. As soon as your feet touch the cement, your lips were on his. he had been beyond excited that you were just as happy as he was about this step.

Jason plucked the ring from the box and smoothly slid it on your finger. It suited you just perfectly - as much as he didn't want to admit it, Dick was right. Jason wiped the tears streaming down your face, followed by wiping his own.

"I love you, Jason," You kissed him once more. Jason no longer cared that you were in the middle of the sidewalk. People walking by as you were completely engrossed with each other. He couldn't bare the thought of letting you go, feared that your acceptance of his proposal was nothing but his imagination.

"Dick was right," Jason chuckled. You raised an eyebrow at him, confused as to why he was bringing up his brother at a moment like this. "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me."

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd oneshot #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood imagine #red hood oneshot #dc one shot #dc imagine #dc #fluff #batfam #batfam imagine #batfam one shot

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maanae · 3 years

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The Court: Origins

Guess who wrote that instead of searching for an appart ? .-.

But kinda like it and I mean there's Hawkgirl so it can't be that bad (yes it's from the animated JL. I mean it's the best girl from that carton. Best. Girl.)

Ladybug and Chat Noir meet heros : Wonder Woman is the First (working in Paris ?) and she introduces them to the rest. Because they need help and decent backing. (shinanigans and awkwardiness are totally here, they're fans ok?) But it's a firm 'no' to any direct intervention from foreign heroes who doesn't manage his emotions (akumatized Superman... brr). But they need help. They send Martian Manhunter and Hawkgirl. (Wonder Woman would have come, with her own ties with the Miraculous and all, but she's already the ambassador of her people so can't.) Immediately, there are results. Crazy the efficacity of training right? (Master Fu gets an earful along the way, heroes don't like this Gardian way of his)

Ladybug is still his apprentice but she has back-up so she doesn't drown and she trains Chat Noir in secret from Fu. Because y'know, they're p a r t n e r s! (Hawkgirl called bullshit on the inequality between the two and Martian Manhunter said it was a good idea so). Ladybug and Chat Noir totally plan to rope Nino in it too. The Turtle always have more Gardian-vibe than the rest because Protection and Nino is Nino so he's trustworthy. (He could be Grand Gardian in the future but Ladybug is a martyr if anything else and she doesn't want to overburden him. She works on that. (And Chat Noir works on the "self-sacrificing" bit of his personality. Hawkgirl called bullshit on that too)).

They don't know each other's identity but when Chat Noir flirts and Ladybug complains they know it's more for fun than anything else. Sure, they have a tiny tiny crush on each other but they're heroes (teenage heroes) after all, they need the comic relief please.

Marinette and Adrian are more busy than ever and it's hard sometimes but they're not drowning and it's better than what could have been without the Justice League so they manage. Sure, Marinette doesn't design as much as before and Adrian runs on three hours of sleep tops but they manage! Sure they're in high school now but they're in seconde and it can be a lot of work but it's also the year the most laid back of high school so. They can do it.

With help, comes suspects. Did you think Martian Manhunter and Hawkgirl were here only as supports? They're might be not as detective-oriented as Batman but they have their own way to have answers. They're still heroes, even if they're not detectives. Chat Noir isn't happy when his father made it on the List and is a serious suspect. And he's not happy when Ladybug supports this theory with her own evidence either. And sure his suspects are believable too but he overlooks Gabriel completely and Ladybug is not impressed with him (Lila comes back at the same time and Marinette is not impressed with Adrien either.) Maybe their argument and all the yelling gave away their identities a little too quickly. Oups.

They ignore each other for two good weeks, in class like in battle, before Hawkgirl forces them to talk. (Communication is important kids). It's not a fun conversation. They somewhat forgive each other even if it's strain in the first weeks. But they work on it (because frienships too need work) and they come to it at least! And sure Hawkmoth landed some good hits during that time but they always win, good relationship or not. They're professionnals guys.

And maybe they become so close they're often taken for a couple. Except she gives him advices about Kagami and he's pushing her in Luka's arms. They're often saying they're more like siblings if ask. At some point Adrien is all but officially adopted by the Dupain-Cheng. (The Lahiffe tried but hey, a whole bakery. They can't hold a candle to that.) It was a happy few months despite the stress and the akumas and amoks. Even with Lila. (because the class isn't full of idiots, yes they find Lila great and yes her war with Marinette and Adrien is weird but they're friends either way. They just... don't go out at the same time with them. They take turns. They think of something to make it work. Because being friends with a whole class is cute but not realistic.)

And then there is a conversation who strucks odd to Adrien. Not even a conversation, just an off-hand comment. Barely a "make sure Duusu obey correctly next time". Just a few seconds. Adrien wouldn't have think of anything if he didn't exactly knew who was Duusu. Oups x2. He took it pretty bad. Poor Chat.

Their plan is simple - in theory (well, more or less, it's still Ladybug we speak of). A sort of "breaking & entering" with thief!Marinette and complice!Adrian. Martian Manhunter in invisibility mode scoots the hallways before the two and Hawkgirl is at the end of the formation, ready for all he can throw at them. Of course it comes crashing down. La faute à pas de chance like we say in French - they come during the Night of Hawkmoth (the one random night in the week where Hawkmoth akumatises someone from a nightmare - look, he needs to sleep to). So when Adrian lets Ladyfox enter, the illusions doesn't fool the high-security systems and he prepares. Time for Scarlet Moth to shine!

He doesn't go to the confrontation this coward - he knows they will kick his ass with their training and help of the Justice League. Nah, he creates several really destructive akumas. Y'know. Criminals and the such he carefully avoided before. Trumps cards! Mayura joins not long after. It's a massacre. They need help. Big help. Big like all the box. (And Not the Justice League because maybe Scarlet Moth isn't at his limit and they can't risk it.)

So they recruit. Rena Rouge, Carapace, Hornet (Queen Bee 2.0), Ryuko, Viperion, Bunnyx, and sometimes random people whom the kwamis sense they have a greater affinity than the other persons in their class. It's still bad. They die - a lot. All of them, except Bunnyx. The number of times she jumped from her Burrow to protect a fellow hero is... frightening. Sometimes she made them exchange their miraculous, to better suit their affinities and needs. It lasts three days.

They win! Somewhat. They're... not broken, almost, mourning their innocence and deeply hurt. But they're alive and Paris is standing and Hawkmoth and Mayura are not - yet - winners so. They take what they can.

Ladybug and Chat Noir don't take back the Miraculous from those who want to fight with them. Some people can't be heroes, can't have the mental for it. Others are desesperate to stop this. And others still are born for it - like them. Hawkgirl and Martian Manhunter agreed to train them - they're not in their best mindset either (they didn't see so much destruction since their last world-ending event, it's not an everyday occurrence even for them) but they're adults, professionals. The kids need them so they help, of course. The Court is born, with new heroes and new names. Too many has been compromised during the battle to keep their old, and... they are not the same as before either. Dame Chance (Ladybug - Marinette), Cat Sìth (Cat - Adrian), Alya (Tiger - Tigris), Nino (Turtle - Shield), Chloé (Bee - Hornet), Kagami (Dragon - Kinryu), Luka (Snake - Ouroboros), Alix (Bunny - Bunnyx), Nathaniel (Fox - Renart), Allegra (Rooster - Mélodie), Bridgette (Ox - Niú), Claude (Horse - Kid Mime) and Alan (Dog - Gavroche).

From here, it's hell. Hawkmoth and Mayura send akumas and sentimonsters at a frenetic pace, sometimes switching with a Scarlet Moth Situation (not too otfen because it costs a great deal of energy but at least one on three days). Life in Paris is impossible, the city is lock down, the civilians need to stay home for their security and the heroes all but stop to live. They move in the QG Hawkgirl and Martian Manhunter set up at the beginning and scheme. Identities don't matter (and that's an interesting conversation), sleeping, eating, all of that is pushed aside. They can't deal with distractions. That's also a interesting conversation. (Look, some of them don't lose their priorities. Sleep and food are not distractions. But go say that to Marinette, hah.) But nevertheless, their lifes are put on hold for their hunt (and training. the new heroes need it.) No need to say, they're on a fine line from madness.

It lasts two weeks (an eternity) before they attack. The battle is horrible - like all battles - and the Court is spread across all Paris to protect it from the akumas and sentimonsters. Against Hawkmoth and Mayura, it's only Dame Chance, Cat Sìth, Ouroboros, Kinryu and Martian Manhunter.

They win. Finally. And they sleep the month after that, because trauma (very much so), adrenaline and - just - their bodies shut down. Especially Marinette and Adrian.

Now, the Box is used as almost full capacity. Nino has the Turtle. So Fu is like 'cool, Marinette is ready!' Hence Marinette is Grand Guardian at 16 (joy. so much.) and as first decision names Adrian and Nino Guardians with her. Fu isn't too please. She doesn't give a flying fuck.

After Hawkmoth Alya, Nathaniel, Bridgette and Claude gave back their miraculous (they were heroes when needed but it isn't a life they want).

The next two years are a lot of juggling between training, learning, apprenticeship and heroing but nowhere near the intensity of their first two years.

Because the Court is still active. Even without Hawkmoth and Mayura (by the way Nooroo and Duusu are absolutely being pampered in the box), they remained active, help the police and all. Especially with the new risk of attacks from terrorists (they couldn't prevent the bombs, only help afterwards and that was... hard. Definitely more so than Hawkmoth because the Cure can't revive these victims. There wasn't any Miraculous involved - only plain, old, ugly humanity).

Btw the Justice League is on speed dial in case they need help for a magical/miraculous/world-ending event and because they're allies now but they're not part of it.

So yes they're heroes but they're teenagers too. Marinette and Luka date one year before they break up and remain friends (and maybe she has a little something with Kagami at one point. maybe), Adrien discovers preferring guys, Nino and Alya are still as in love as ever. They grow up, they graduate high school. Some stay in Paris, others go discover the world.

Alya made a name for herself with the Ladyblog and has a brilliant carrier ahead of her, already thinking of doing something similar to Lois Lane : war reporter, then specialising herself in heroics. She wants to be the best and knows damn well what she needs to do for that (Lila be damned). Chloé flourishes in New York, attempting business and politics degrees (nobody else see Chloe as Mayor of Gotham? I think it would suit her - a broken city needing her help and power. pretty much her). Luka makes soundtracks for movies and makes a name for himself ; in the same sector, Allegra joins the National Orchestra of France. Nino chooses a degree in the cinema, DJing in the weekend. Adrian works with Sabine and Tom, training to inherit, one day, the bakery - Gabriel crumbled with his father and he has no intention to ever build it back. Kagami trains for the Olympics. Alix goes for a degree in archeology - following her family and her miraculous. The comic series relating the aventures of the Court by Nathaniel and Mark is a huge success, assuring their own place in the world. Allan go to Japan for a degree in languages. Bridgette and Marinette goes to China to visit their family (they're totally cousins) and for their respective studies in communication and fashion.

Paris is heartbroken and very concerned when Dame Chance and Cat Sìth disapear but the Ladyblog remains active so they can explain that they're young, they want to learn to live in this world and they need to attends some Miraculous matters - but of course if Paris or the France or even the world need their help one day, they'd come back.

At 23, Marinette, Adrian, Nino and Alix take a gap year and go to Tibet. Because they're not civilians despite their somewhat inactivity and their Court is cool but they very much need to think about the future, the after them. So they need to rebuild the Order.

Oh. The League/The Untitled/a great bad. Coucou. (book 2?)

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

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Not a huge fan of how often fics raising the ‘Dick and Bruce fight over Dick going to college’ angle seem to be of the opinion that Dick’s just stubbornly not getting what Bruce is trying to teach Dick about the value of an honest buck and the realities of supporting himsef in the real world where things might not necessarily be handed to him.

Just saying, personally I feel that loses sight of the fact that Dick wasn’t just a child performer.....his performances were a JOB. He was WORKING as a kid, even before the age of eight. Was he part of his parents’ entire act? Nope. Did he enjoy working with them? Yup.

Does any of the above actually change the fact that no one, no matter how ‘naturally gifted they are,’ rises to the level of skill and acclaim Dick ALREADY HAD, for HIMSELF, before he ever even met Bruce.....without putting in endless hours of WORK, day in and day out, to be the best of the best?

And can anybody really argue that no matter HOW much work Bruce puts in to further his skills as Batman, and no matter how regularly or willingly Bruce goes into work at Wayne Enterprises.....he in contrast was born into a lifestyle that meant he grew up with an awareness that he would never actually HAVE to work a day in his life if he didn’t WANT to? That even the fact that he just took off for a few years touring around the world learning the skills he’d need as Batman, instead of just focusing on what he’d need to know to take over the family business, demonstrated an awareness that whether or not he actually ever DID that - ie took over as Wayne CEO - was entirely up to him and his own discretion, and not an obligation or something he’d need to do in order to support even the way of life he’d grown up accustomed to?

Aaaaaaanyway, I’m just saying that perhaps thinking that the born billionaire has something to teach the kid who was an accomplished professional of no small acclaim by the age of eight......

Is not the flex people are going for when they whip it out.

Bruce Wayne gave Dick Grayson a lot. Taught him a lot. Provided him with a lot.

Dick Grayson has a lot to be grateful to Bruce Wayne for. Things he learned from him. Things he credits Bruce for helping to make possible for him.

But there are still things Dick has and that Dick knows, that have absolutely nothing to do with Bruce and did not come from him.

Dick’s work ethic is most definitively one of those things. It was in place long before he ever even heard of his future adoptive father.

And the realities of not having a financial cushion to fall back on and needing to put in long hours of work in order to help provide for your family is another thing he never needed to learn from BRUCE, specifically. Do I think his parents and the rest of the circus probably did a lot to protect Dick from the worst of any financial hardships they faced and let him grow up as much as possible without worrying about the things they as adults worried about? Yes, I absolutely do.

But my point remains that both Dick and Bruce throughout their respective childhoods - just as ALL children do - only became more and more cognizant of the realities of the world and money and personal responsibilities as they grew older.

But their growing awareness of such things were only ADDED ONTO the foundations they both already had in place from their early childhoods, when it came to what all of the above looked like from their respective point of views.

And Dick and Bruce, at their respective ages of eight, for instance....already had EXTREMELY different foundations in place.

Even once Dick moved into Wayne Manor, his past was not erased as a set of foundational experiences. No matter how cushy various experiences he had while living at the Manor were, they did not overwrite his past, they merely provided an alternative set of experiences for him to juxtapose with his earlier life....an INCREASED perspective. A WIDENED vantage point, allowing him a greater grasp of the wide spectrum of financial realities between his starting point and Bruce’s.

Just.....for all the things that Dick gained from living with Bruce or that Bruce taught him.....I feel like his work ethic and his views of what it even means to NEED to work or to be self-reliant.....prooooobably not something he ever needed to gain from Bruce SPECIFICALLY.

I mean, personally, I’d argue the above is actually what provides the blueprint for what we ACTUALLY see borne out in the comics time after time, no matter that he never graduated from college and didn’t particularly want to go in the first place.....Dick has never been someone who wants to rely on anyone else for financial support and has always prided himself on having a steady job on top of his vigilantism, paying his own way. He’s just not someone who particularly feels he needs a job with any specific level of prestige or has many financial needs or wants beyond basic necessities and well, the stuff he uses for his vigilante work. And while he does at times turn to Bruce for help with the latter stuff, its all in the name of the PEOPLE he helps with that, not like, personal financial gain or comfort, y’know? It doesn’t really belong in the same conversation as like.....’Bruce just wants Dick to be aware of what its like to work himself in order to pay his own rent and bills’.....especially since as I said earlier....Bruce isn’t ACTUALLY aware of what any of that is like?

So it just seems like a very backwards approach to things myself, and I do wonder how much of the focus on that is actually just instinctive, society-derived bias that stems from how much we’re led to believe from an early age that billionaires, by virtue of how much money they have, just naturally know more about money and hard work than anyone who doesn’t have as much money as they have....otherwise wouldn’t those other people have as much money as they do as well? Etc, etc.

Anyway, just putting that out there, because uh, I mean I don’t really think a big deal NEEDS to be made about Bruce’s own capabilities or knowledge when it comes to paying bills, basic adult skills, etc, like.....its not like anything I’m saying here is to profess that Bruce by comparison has to be useless at all of the above or in any way particularly clueless or incompetent....

I’m just saying that like, AS a point of comparison - which he innately becomes the second a narrative positions him as having a very divergent view of financial realities than Dick, and this being something they disagree on or argue about - the guy who was literally wage earning by age eight to help provide for his entire extended communal family in a literal financial sense......

NOT perhaps the best person to position as the less knowledgable, more naive counterpart to the guy who has only ever left the lap of luxury by his own conscious choice and always with full awareness it would be there for him to return to whenever he chose, even without him needing to do anything at all to ensure that or keep it supplemented via working for a paycheck, thus freeing him up to focus on nothing BUT his vigilantism and personal priorities.

*Shrugs*

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davidmann95 · 3 years

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I think you’ll enjoy the Snyder Cut as funny as that outcome will be, but honestly the only analysis of the DCEU from you I’m interested in is comparing Cavill and Hoechlin. S&L shows that it’s not necessarily a darker tone or “realism” that caused the problems with Cavill.

You guessed true! I was indeed made a fool of for maximum comedic value. And now that we’re through Superman & Lois’s first ‘act’ for its inaugural season I’d say there’s a decent amount of material to work with for comparison. It’s actually a fair one to make: along with the series drawing a lot on Man of Steel aesthetically both takes on Superman are rooted in the notion of realistic consequence, albeit one focusing on the personal and the other on the global. But curiously if not surprisingly, the shorthand impressions of the two have pretty grievously screwed up the general interpretations on the two not only in terms of relative depth, but what sources they’re drawing on.

It’s funny; when Hoechlin debuted on Supergirl it was just about the most positive press Superman had gotten in over a decade, but by the time he showed up again the narrative had fully set in that he was a shameless, inauthentic carbon-copy of Christopher Reeve designed in contrast to Cavill, and it held until the debut of his solo show made people reckon with the quality of his performance on a weekly basis. And even that opened with a lovely bit of nostalgia bait that reinforced the idea that Hoechlin is a neo-classical ‘iconic’ take on the character shaped by his mass-media, while Cavill is the modernized serious update rooted in Deep Comic Book Lore. The truth is that between the two it’s the big screen take who hews a lot closer to the Christopher Reeve model, stoic in the face of danger, sweet when given the opportunity, somewhat distant most of the time but unquestionable in his good intent. Hoechlin meanwhile while paying his dues to almost every mass-media Superman interpretation to date one way or another is as a personality rooted in the comics in a way no prior adaptation approaches. Especially the work of Busiek and Morrison as a modernization of ideas originally stemming from the 60s and 70s of Superman as an emotionally vulnerable figure, unshakable in his heroism but driven by unique personal experience and a mindset bordering on neurosis almost as much as decency.

Perhaps the core of the divide that the differences in their performances stem from - beyond that from day one back in the Supergirl days, for me at least, Hoechlin simply felt a lot more authentic and charismatic - is specificity of motivation. Henry Cavill’s Clark Kent is a burdened figure, with no shortage of factors in his life acting against his journey to becoming Superman so as to make that transformation all the more remarkable: a lack of built-in inclinations in the same way as the rest of his species, his powers tormenting him throughout his childhood, social isolation, his family discouraging his heroics out of concern for his safety, the looming threat of the global sociopolitical impact should his existence be revealed. But for all that buildup, there’s little effort given to why in spite of all of that he would become Superman anyway, other than - for all the effort to make this a grounded, ‘real’ take on the character - that he is Superman, and when offered a chance at greatness as either one who does good or evil, he will naturally choose good. He’s a largely passive everyman figure, adrift for years until a place is given to him, and then in the tradition established by Byrne and company in the 1980s (reversing Siegel and Shuster’s original concept) only able to fully unclench when wearing the glasses rather than when enacting the mission and role he finds thrust upon him. He’s just a perfectly okay joe doing the best he can under increasingly impossible circumstances because he has no real choice but to go with the flow lest he let everyone down. Weird dickishness when Batman’s around aside, he’s broadly who ‘you’ would hope you could be if you were handed a cape and told to save the world.

With Hoechlin it’s incredibly clear where most of his driving traits come from even by the end of the pilot: his community-minded sense of ethics from his parents, his sense of larger duty and destiny from the literal voice of his heritage, his alienation from his unique responsibilities and powers and the secrets that come with them, his protectiveness from just about all of the above with the death of his father probably playing no small part. They’re traits that make him a natural as a big savior hero - he doesn’t need to put on an act or force himself into it, he’s really like that, especially with his natural goofy earnestness - but massively complicate his life as Clark Kent dealing with interpersonal relationships, tripping him up and complicating his priorities. He powers through on determination and the fact that under his issues he’s fundamentally a good person, but not all that deep down he’s someone with a lot of powerful and frequently conflicting drives that don’t always manifest in the healthiest ways even as he tries to improve.

Neither’s my ‘ideal’ version of Superman - there’s stuff I’d change or refocus with the both of them, even if Hoechlin’s a lot closer to what I’m looking for. But their outward presentations are misleading as to which of the two takes the character more seriously: the array of weights on Cavill’s shoulders are such that he as a person is largely squeezed out. The version Hoechlin plays however, in taking Superman at face value, ends up asking harder questions of what would shape that sort of person and how those personality traits would play out, and the results capture nuances that across 80 years no other major adaptation has managed.

#Superman #Tyler Hoechlin #Henry Cavill #Superman & Lois #Man of Steel #DCTV #DCEU #Worlds of DC #Opinion

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itsmespicaa · 3 years

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Regrets

Summary: A deeper look into Cassandra Cain's life after the Anti-Life virus struck the whole Universe and her interactions with her family.

(Alternatively: Cass gets the hugs she deserves in DCeased)

Note: The art I drew for this fic is here.

Read this on AO3

There was no time to lose.

There was still so much...life in this building. So much to protect. Cassandra is beyond glad they‘ve all decided to stay—these children...are not like her. Or Jason. Or even Gordon-

"Jim," he sighed, wistful and...sad. Eyes briefly lost in what was no doubt a shrapnel of memory that cuts and pricks deep into your chest, pushed aside to focus on the present—to survive—no matter how painful it digs into your soul. She understood. He glanced at her and smiled. "Jim’s fine, Cass. We’re all family, right?”

These children needed them, and...perhaps a part of her needed them too. They all needed each other now, one way or another.

Nights are...the worst.

Sleep has never come naturally for her, even before...everything. Before their whole world fell apart. She was not unfamiliar with loss, but this- there was no time to mourn or- or even breathe. No time to look back and realize just how much was taken from them.

Survive. Move forward. Survive, kill, survive. Keep each other safe.

Her mantra—the only thing that mattered now.

She did not allow herself to think of Barbara‘s kind eyes, or the last time she heard Dick laughing in the manor. She did not think of the fistbump she shared with Tim on their last patrol together.

She did not allow herself to think about Bruce, of the comforting weight on her shoulder after another successful night a few days ago. An easy night—quick and simple. So...different from the nights now that her chest ached and ached-

Nor did she allow herself to think about Stephanie, who wasn't even supposed to be in Gotham now. Her mother too...surely...?

(But Batman was supposed to be invincible, and yet, and yet—)

No. No time to look back. No time for hope or questions with no answers.

Nights are the worst.

Beyond the stillness of the night, beyond the quiet of the sleeping children...the monsters lurk and scream. She could hear them, clear as day—sleep did not come to them...so nor would she.

Instead, she sat in a corner—not too close that she could be spotted instantly, but close enough to aide should anything happen—silent and watchful over the children now in her care. It soothed her, seeing them so peaceful. Their innocence not yet fully stolen from them.

A night without one of them waking up from a nightmare was all that she asked for.

"Cass."

She did not turn to the voice. As she waited, her brother finally came to sit beside her, knees drawn up to his chest as if to mimic her.

On a better day, she would‘ve smiled at this.

She didn't smile.

"You really should rest," murmured Jason after a while. "I‘ll watch over them tonight. We need to be in tip top condition if we plan on protecting them."

Facing him, face impassive, she signed: You? Sleep?

A huff, eyes dim. "Touché."

They sat there, side by side, watching the faces of those more vulnerable than them for a long time, the noise from beyond the walls momentarily cut out as her focus zeroed in on the children.

"I buried them," said Jason suddenly, breaking the fragile peace. Cass does not stop, doesn‘t have to ask who he meant.

"I should‘ve told you sooner, but with everything going on..."

Words were never her allies, and they weren't one now. Cass swallowed the lump growing in her throat, along with whatever words she was about to say.

I know, she touched her cheeks twice instead, trusting in her brother to see it.

Jason definitely noticed, because the next moment he was slowly wrapping an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. Like a puppet cut loose from its string, Cass melted into his side, finally allowing herself a small moment to just-

Mourn.

She and Jason were never as close as her and Tim, but they understood one another, possibly better than most in the family. They would spent rare moments reading together in the manor‘s library, comfortably co-existing. Now-

No more words were spent that night, the two of them silently supporting each other as they accept their new reality. She did not move to wipe the few drops of tears tracking down her cheeks, and Jason said nothing.

How cruel is it that the ones to survive are the people who had touched death before?

...Damian? Alfred? Her hand moved as she looked at him, mouth pressed in a thin line. The only ones left. And their youngest sibling. The expression that reflected back at her was just as grim, but the lines on his face were noticeably lighter, and Cass can tell from the loose grip on her shoulder—from the set of his jaw that it was not a bad news.

"Both are still alive in Metropolis last I checked yesterday," he said, fingers picking at a loose strand on his jacket—nervous, "and hopefully they’re with other heroes too. I...try not to check too often. Gotta save the energy of the car, y‘know?"

And I‘m scared to know, was unspoken, but she heard it. Saw the fear in his creases, the anxiety in his sunken eyes.

The regret.

Cassandra understood. There were regrets she would have to live with now too.

She nodded, looking back at the children again. A sense of tranquility finally settling in her chest, the anguish she felt not completely extinguished...but there was only so much she could bear at a time. These children are her priorities now, her new family, and...

Little brother, she tugged and signed at Jason before resting a hand on his back. "Keep you safe," she emphasized each words, tugging on his red hoodie—now splattered in different shades of red.

That...startled a laugh out of him. A small quirk of lips, but Cass saw it as what it is and beamed too, subdued as it was.

"I don‘t know about me being the younger brother," he chuckled softly, "but I'm glad I have a kick-ass sister like you. I have your back too, Cass. Always."

She would not lose any more of her family if she could help it. New or old.

Even if she had to sacrifice herself.

Her mother. She was-

Cassandra watched as the children exit the bus and can’t help the bittersweet smile tugging the edge of her lips.

She was a hero.

In the very end, she died a hero. Protecting the life of innocents and...her family.

Her heart felt too heavy to maintain it however, and after making sure all the surviving children are accounted for and comfortably settled in their new home, she wandered over to the newly chiseled statue the Green Guardian—Ivy had bestowed upon them as a token of respect. A gift.

She stood before the likeness of her mother, her last moments playing over her mind like a broken cassette.

Her eyes burned and she blinked, rapidly.

"Hey."

The white-haired lady. Moved with quiet grace almost as good as her. Almost.

She nodded back in lieu of a reply.

"Complicated parent issues?"

"...Yes."

A sigh. "Same."

They stood there, side by side, both lost in thought as they gazed upon the legacy their parents have left.

"Despite everything..." whispered Rose, "We still love and miss them, don‘t we?"

"She was...not a good mother," began Cass, trying to find the right words to describe the turmoil of emotions warring within her. "But she loved me. And I...loved her. In the end...that‘s all that matters."

A curt nod. "I get it. Really.

"I know loss is inevitable now," continued Rose, hand seemingly wanting to reach out before pulling back abruptly, "but...I‘m sorry you had to see that yourself. I‘m here if you want to uh- talk and all that. Or even just my company."

Cass was...touched. It was a sweet gesture, considering they haven‘t had much time to get to know each other before arriving here.

Smiling quietly at her, she pointed at herself and signed: Conversation. Not good. Rose‘ sign language skill isn‘t on par with hers or Jason, but it’s enough.

She smiled back, laughter in her voice: "So we won‘t have to speak. I can be a good listener when I need to be."

At that moment, Cass decided she liked this girl. Suddenly grateful to have her here—that her brother had her too.

It was probably that thought that prompted her to get her attention, her hands moving quickly: You. Jason. Happy?

Surprisingly, that brought on a small blush on Rose‘s already rosy cheeks, and Cass‘ smile widened.

"We- haven‘t made it official or anything but...yeah. Yeah, I think we are." Rubbing the back of her neck, bashful eyes cast downwards in a rare show of vulnerability, she reminded her so much of Stephanie that she had to bite down her lips to keep it from wobbling.

Instead she gave her the warmest grin she could muster, focusing on the person in front of her now. "Good," she said, before pulling her in for an earnest hug.

For a while Rose just stood there, letting Cass do all the work—but then she grasped her back just as tightly, finally realizing that the hug was for Cass herself as much as it is for her.

They both lost their parent, now truly orphans like everyone else, and Cassandra‘s...grateful she wasn‘t alone for this.

"I see you two are bonding already," came a familiar voice.

Lo and behold, Jason appeared from behind them with a smirk. He and Rose exchanged a look and before he even turned to her, Cass already knew what he was about to do.

She returned her brother‘s embrace, accepting it for what it was. I‘m sorry, his body screamed—sad, sad, sad. Sad for...her.

Standing toe to toe, he dwarfed her in comparison, and Cass was all of a sudden struck with the memory of the last time she hugged their father (Bruce, not Cain. Never Cain.) A sharp twinge of pain swiped at her chest, a simple wish that...she could‘ve hugged her mother too.

Physical affection did not come easy to Jason either, but Cass knew he was tired of regretting, tired of letting people go when everything you loved could be taken from you at any moment and...she felt the same.

Regrets seem to be the only constant in their life now.

After pulling away with a playful shove, she pointed at Jason then Rose, tapping her two 'K' hands together. Take care of her. She glared pointedly at Jason for a few seconds before her face broke into a smirk.

A cheer of laughter erupted from the three of them at Jason‘s indignant 'Of course!' sign.

It was definitely the highlight of her day.

---

Weeks later, when night fell and the world ran a little slower, Cassandra watched over them all as she always had.

Her small family is safe now—her brother and sister-in-law somewhere outside of prying eyes but still near enough for her to reach (Jason had reassured her himself). The marriage itself was nothing as fancy as the movies she watched with Tim and Steph had shown, but it was...festive. Magical. Beautiful. Ivy had gifted them with beautiful garlands and flower chains that grew from the earth, vibrant roses uncurling at every corner to celebrate their union—a symbol of hope that could flourish amidst the dreariness of their reality.

The sheer joy she felt and saw from the two newlyweds was enough to assuage her constant state of alertness. She kissed both of their cheeks and hugged them close, lips pulled wide on the happiest moment she had felt in a very long time, a comfortable warmth curling in her chest. Their happiness was infectious.

Yet now—

"You should rest, kid."

She wasn‘t the only one restless.

"...Jim. Rough...night?"

A puff of cigarette. "Something like that."

Silence reigned over the living garden, the stars above brighter than it had ever been.

"You were close with my daughter?" asked the Commissioner all of a sudden.

"...Yes." Her reply was careful—while time had done its magic, a balm to gaping wounds on the soul, their memories of Barbara were still fresh on both of their minds. It still...hurt, and no doubt even more so for him. "She was my...mentor. She was like...like a..." Mother, she did not say. Before Shiva, before Bruce truly stepped into his role as a father.

But Jim picked it up nonetheless, nodding to himself. "Good. That‘s- really good."

For once, she genuinely wondered what the aim of their conversation was.

"We might not be close, Cassandra," he watched the puff of smoke that formed around him, casual and honest, "but you‘re Batman‘s daughter, and my daughter...knowing her, she undoubtedly loved you too like one. So that's more than enough to make you family."

Nodding, already connecting those particular dots together, she tilted her head. And?

"And I would do anything to keep my family safe," he turned to her, pain in his eyes reflected in her own. "But you understand that more than anyone else, don‘t you?"

Cass looked away, his intention finally dawning upon her.

"I- don‘t want to lose them too," she whispered to no one, her fear carried over in the silence of the night, the huge vines and trees providing a shelter from the horrific wailing of the monsters lurking just outside the garden walls.

They‘re the only ones I have left, she did not say.

Instead of a reply, Jim squeezed her shoulder in solidarity.

Cass is eternally grateful he did not try to console her with empty words.

"SHAZAM!"

Electricity and raw, undiluted power surged through her, tingling in her veins with the telltale sign of ancient magic.

Fury. White, hot blistering fury.

She did not waste a blink at the corpse now lying beneath her, eyes already roaming to find Jason who- no.

No.

Rose knelt beside him, sobs rocking her frame, every inch of her body screaming pure sorrow and Cassandra reached out, denial on the tip of her tongue- before a hand stopped her.

Damian.

Now an adult, creases wrinkling his forehead so much like his father. He shook his head, still gripping her arm and unwilling to let go. Cass could push him away despite his strength, especially with her newfound powers, but—but she didn‘t.

Cassandra Cain, blood daughter of Lady Shiva and David Cain, adoptive daughter of the Batman, fell to her knees and hung her head in her palms, holding back the agony clawing at her inside out. Hollow, hollow, empty.

No.

She promised-

What good was all this power if she couldn‘t even save her own family?

No tears came forth despite the stabbing wound in her chest, an ugly rage building up in the back of her throat, threatening to lash out with the pulsing energy in her fingers.

"Cass," Damian‘s soft plea snapped her out of her haze of red and self-destruction, and she finally looked at him, truly looked at him—his locked jaws, the tremble masking his own shock and anger, and- she blinked, vision clearing. Stopped.

Nothing could bring him back. Not her anger, nor revenge.

She stood up to her full height, Damian on her elbow, and locked eyes with Constantine standing right across from them, hoping the daggers she sent him from her gaze alone is enough to convey the amount of hatred she felt at that moment and floated over to Rose, her cape billowing behind her.

Someone else needed her now—move now, mourn later. Rinse and repeat.

---

The last remnants of warmth lingered in Jason‘s crushed body as she gingerly carried him out of the pocket dimension, and Cass felt her resolve weakening for a brief second, her powers slipping and she- nearly dropped to the ground. No one noticed, everyone lost in their own thoughts at what had transpired in so little time.

Her grip tightened.

Flying over to an area she knew was designated for the ones who...passed, she laid him down as gently as she could, brushing away a strand of hair on his forehead with light fingers, despite how heavy it felt to lift them. Wiped away the blood on his face with care, her movements mechanical like the time she had to dress a corpse of a dead boy they had failed to save.

Then she waited.

And waited.

Jason wouldn‘t want to be by himself. All alone.

She sat there, waiting.

When Rose finally dropped noiselessly beside her, Cass stood up and walked away, giving them the privacy they deserved. Ignored the silent tears wrecking the younger woman, and the instinctive need to console and support her.

Let her grieve, she reminded herself.

Her youngest brother stood behind a large boulder just outside the area, gaze pointedly directed at the ground.

"Cassandra."

She stopped right by him, shoulder to shoulder, facing the opposite direction. Waited.

His fist clenched tightly, teeth scrapping harshly against each other- "If I had known this would happen, I would never have—"

Gloved fingers grasped his shoulder tightly, and his mouth clicked shut.

"Please. Do not blame yourself," she murmured, calm and quiet, so unlike the weight dragging her down to the earth, burying her under. The magic that coursed through the blood, singing and wild, untamed as the raging sea.

Her fingers trembled.

She did not cry.

"I wish...I wish I could have talked with him more before. Know this Jason better," spoke Damian again after a long pause. It was an admission, hushed, voice laced with a regret so potent, it was impossible to dismiss.

So much regrets. Always. Always, always.

Finally, he turned to her with his cowl taken off, the pain in his eyes open for the world to see, for her to see, and she-

"I‘m so sorry, Cass," he whispered, broken, "I‘m so sorry."

Maybe it was his understanding, the honesty a huge contrast from the young, haughty boy who would hide his emotions behind a wall of anger and righteousness all those years ago. Or maybe it was the way his hand hovered beside him, a language as natural to her as breathing itself. Whatever it was...it unraveled the last string keeping her together, and she—

Not again.

Somewhere between then and the ground, her mask had been pulled down, and Cassandra finally let the weight in her heart crush her soul to dust, Damian‘s arms somehow around her and holding her close. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, her tears creating a wet patch on his shoulder.

It was so tempting to call upon thunderstorms and lightning to put an end to all their suffering, an end to the anti-life once and for all—but she didn‘t. That was not their mission. Instead she let her eyes run dry, heaving quiet sobs into her brother.

The last two siblings held each other, grief and sorrow amplifying the desperation Cass felt growing within her.

It was a necessary sacrifice, she would know later.

But all she felt then was the despair of losing another family. The only one she had since their whole world turned upside down.

Damian was a solid weight that kept her grounded, and she was...thankful. Rose deserved to be supported now, rather than have another mess of emotions thrown onto her lap after all.

She felt her not-so-little brother bury himself into her shoulder and knew he needed this too.

It wasn't fair. It wasn’t fair.

...but nothing was.

Later, they would give Jason a proper burial. Later, they would be there carve the loving words of the life their brother had led. They would pay their respects, just as he did for their late father and brothers in the cave.

Later, they would continue to fight for humanity.

But for now-

"Damian," her voice cracked, too soft, too strained even for her ears. "I‘ll keep you safe. I promise."

A finality. An oath.

Not just to herself, but to Jason—whom she had failed. To their father, who entrusted the Bat mantle to the both of them, in his own ways. If it meant him surviving...

Damian froze and she knew what he wanted to say: Please don‘t make promises you can‘t keep.

But he didn‘t. Instead, he breathed out just as solemnly, the timbre of his voice octaves lower than it was a lifetime ago:

"...Right back at you, Cass."

#batfamily #cassandra cain #jason todd #damian wayne #dceased #dc comics #rose wilson #fanfic #Spica writes #oh look! :D i finally posted my fic ahaha

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batfamscreaming · 3 years

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fic writer who asked for advice on writing bruce: the angle im taking is "more than anything, bruce is meant to be a father". hes a father figure in everything he does and i want that to be a focal point in my fic. yeah hes undoubtedly badass and accomplished but children are never afraid of him. more than anything, batman was birthed bc of compassion. thats what i want to write.

I started writing out a whole thing about parenthood but honestly it might be better than my computer ate it. But basically, instead of defining Bruce’s personality, you’ll be better off defining ‘fatherhood’.

I think that most people can agree that parenthood has a few necessary traits:

Attempt to protect children

Attempt to provide food and shelter for children

Place children in priority above the self (most of the time)

Teach everyday needs (usually manners and customs than algebra, but some parents ARE algebra teachers)

if All those traits aren’t in place, it’s probably not a parent. (but if you add in compassion and love, you get parenthood, which is maybe the difference between fatherhood and sperm donerhood)

I think what’s standing out in your ask is “ hes a father figure in everything he does” and “children are never afraid of him”

The thing I’m posing is this: not all abused kids hate their parents. sometimes, when someone takes away their abusive parent, that person is the villain in the scenario. Especially if the removal is violent and the child is right there to see it. If both parents are removed, the most likely paths will be foster care or homelessness. It’s easy and it makes sense to hate and fear someone putting you in that situation. So maybe the kid runs.

How do you chase a child and not scare them?

How do you turn that situation around into trust?

Bruce can’t adopt literally everyone in a bad situation (monetarily he can, but realistically he cannot parent that many people in a day), and Jason got adopted and was head over heels for a new pop, but how do you parent someone you may not ever see again? What about someone in juvy who’s in no place to trust anyone? Someone who’s been let down too many times? When he sees young adults with addiction knowing it’s a downward spiral but figuring it’d at least be nice to cushion the blow, knowing it will be even harder to turn it around-- and a process that takes years sometimes and you really need consistent support.

He doesn’t have to have a perfect, concrete answer to these situations, but I’m sure he’s encountered them on patrol in Gotham. Family (the ones you like) are meant to be the first line of defense when things come crashing down, and for someone like him who grew up with barely a thread to hold onto, I’m sure he wants to protect them. But either he pulls out a miracle cure, or he has to deal with the guilt of not parenting people who need it, right? Or does he just clamp down tighter over his own little family and try to separate them from the rest of the world and ensure they don’t endure what he’s seen out there? Does he project things he’s seen on the kids and miss their actual issues, or does he care so much sometimes people trust him, but they still don’t know if they want to tell him things?

I guess I’m thinking of when you’re driving down the road and you see a kitten on the side and have the instinct to pull over and pick them up, and then you have to ask if this new thing will end up hurting your current kids just by having one too many. parenthood feels like a series of very hard choices, and Bruce is admittedly very good at either making hard choices, or at finding a third option. So maybe he does strive for that miracle cure.

...I hope any of this was helpful, instead of just depression. I do however have a request that Bruce explains periods to one of his kids because I do very much want to see adult men (father figure is a bonus) who know about periods and are just chill about it. Like. Not even like “oh yeah i’m FEMINIST i know about PERIODS” but just like “ah. your bodily function has begun. you good? do you know what’s happening? hm. well. First of all let’s buy you a bidet and get you some pads but then we’re going to learn about uterine walls today.”

#i am very sorry if i rambled i hope you can find something in there that helps #sorry you asked the WRONG PERSON about father hood ladhkajkdh #no one else is as aggro as me about fathers apparently i just have some complaints #batman #bruce wayne #beatext #abuse mention #child abuse mention #drug mention #parenthood #i am only good at practical mother henning i'm not sure about emotional #but the attempt is important #even if it's just ur cats #Anonymous

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fizzingwizard · 3 years

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Episode 34 arrives and it’s a MUCH NEEDED breath of first air. I mean, this episode could have actually BEEN a 99 Adventure episode. I guess at least one person on the production team has actually seen the old show at least once!

In my opinion, it doesn’t quite equal the cuteness, silliness, and personality of similar 99 episodes, but it comes very close, and it’s certainly the best we’ve had in a long long while.

And it’s all because of these two.

More below!

The episode bizarrely begins with Tailmon barking to communicate with Komondomon. Which raises the question, if no one could talk with Komondomon before because he can only bark, how were they communicating? Did Lopmon just tell Komondomon everything he needed to know and tell the kids “just follow his lead” or something??

Also Tailmon’s opening line being her barking is pretty surreal. And yet, fitting for a cat Digimon who is a dog at Child level.

The kids are shown taking a break - the first sign that this episode is gonna be A Bit Different.

Taichi: Something feels weird. Why aren’t we fighting?

Sora: Taichi, don’t you think you should rest once in a while?

Taichi: I mean, I do, I just got the impression the rest of the world didn’t agree...

Sora: By the way, why do we like this world that constantly tries to kill us and never gives us any pleasant memories so much? Why don’t we just take our partners to the human world and leave this place to its fate?

Taichi: How else am I gonna get an outlet for my pent up aggression and adrenaline junkie issues?

Sora: That’s your backstory?

Taichi: I’m a complicated man.

Komondomon then randomly jumps... into the sea. “Oh no, they’ll drown!” No, they won’t, because Komondomon has the ability to build a dome over his back trapping oxygen inside. Submarimon I get, but Komondomon?

As they dive, Tailmon explains what we learned last week about Millenniumon trying to resurrect himself with a new body. Apparently a very large fragment of him is located undersea in a place called Farga (transliteration TBA). She thinks resentfully about how she was almost absorbed into Millenniumon’s most recent resurrection effort.

Hikari tackles her with a comforting hug, which Tailmon seems a bit discomfited by. But does not object.

Tailmon considers defeating Millenniumon for good to be her personal mission as a Holy Digimon. Patamon sees her determination and does his best to put on his game face too. It’s like being glared at by a sock puppet.

Tailmon: I can’t allow Hikari to be put in danger. It’s my job as the Holy Digimon -

Tailmon: - gosh darnit and she’s just so cute too!

They wind up getting hit by a rip current or something?? and thrown into another weird submarine sort of thing. They discourteously break a hole in it and wind up inside a self-sustaining underwater kingdom, apparently, which instantly goes on Red Alert as Manbomon come to attack them.

This is Daipenmon, or Big Penguin Monster. I love him. He is glorious. Gaze upon his expression of perpetually stoned haze.

Daipenmon: You try steering this thing every day in and out nonstop without turning to hard drugs.

She attac!

While fighting, some Mantaraymon break in through the hole they made and the Manbomon go to drive them off as apparently they are not welcome. Then MarineAngemon appears in all her creepy glory and they sort everything out.

MarineAngemon: Oh, Tailmon, I see you’re a Holy Digimon! I can tell by your Holy Ring. I have one too.

Takeru: Patamon, why don’t you have a Holy Ring?

Patamon: .... -.-’

Look! See! So cute! They are floating on bubbles! All the kids get their own and each has an individual design that shows their personality. Here Tailmon tries desperately to keep Hikari from falling off. I missed this kind of thing! Flashbacks to Monzaemon’s Toytown...

Turns out MarineAngemon is extremely small and the scene before was all “don’t pay attention to that man behind the curtain” type scare tactics. Not very effective since no matter how big MarineAngemon gets, she’s still extremely adorable. She invites them to stay the night. I really expected it to be a trap, but it wasn’t.

OH MY GOD IS THAT FOOD ARE THEY EATING ACTUAL FOOD OMG OMG

quick someone alert the producers! Someone’s having FUN with this show! I was starting to think that was illegal or something!

It’s not AS fun as when they went to Devimon’s illusory castle in 99 Adventure and stuffed their faces after starving and living on potentially poisonous eggs for a week... but I’ll take it.

Meanwhile an undersea band plays music and Taichi ACTS LIKE THE FIFTH GRADE CHILD THAT HE IS. For about 0.5 seconds but HEY he did something child-like! holy cheez wiz batman!

Hikari is mysteriously absent so Tailmon goes to find her. Turns out she’s asked MarineAngemon to heal Komondomon who is tired and wounded from their journey. Tailmon’s like, “Aw, what a nice person she is.” I’m all for exceptionally kind-hearted Hikari, but taking care of Komondomon should have been priority 1 for EVERYONE. At least Sora should have thought of it. I can see Taichi being too forward-focused, and Takeru a dumb eight year old, but Sora would definitely have thought about Komondomon.

Clearly the show wanted to establish how nice Hikari is, but I hate when shows inadvertently make all the other characters look like asses just to trump up the current star...

Taichi’s digivice glows and...

... MINI KOUSHIROU RETURNS!!! Hurray!

Um, what’s that Sora’s drinking? A mimosa? o.O

Well anyway, Koushirou just shows up to remind everyone of the situation with the satellites and that things are getting worse.

Taichi: Do you have any idea what we can do about it?

Koushirou: No, but I’ll keep you posted.

Taichi: Thanks for nothing braindead

Koushirou: That’s it! You’re not the man I knew in episode 3 anymore! I want a divorce!

Taichi: Fine with me it’s not like you’re ever home anyway!

Koushirou: Well at least I’m not cheating with YAMATO!

Taichi: I HAVE NEEDS!

*cough*

Uh, I know Taichi is shorter than Sora, but he looks... pretty tiny here... lol. Or maybe Sora’s just had a growth spurt again.

They spend the night sleeping in bubbles. Aw.

By the way, question: the kids seem able to walk and breath normally in MarineAngemon’s kingdom... but the fish-type Digimon can also swim around normally. And it seems the kids wouldn’t be able to survive in the ocean itself, but they and the fish can both survive here? And yet bubbles? What... what kind of scientific anomaly is this place??

So... MarineAngemon’s kingdom appears to be a Whamon’s corpse! X’D Wow that’s dark.

They are attacked by Anomalocarimon! For reasons. Actually, they did explain earlier that the ocean Digimon have been more aggressive lately and it seems to be the influence of Millenniumon’s stone in Farga or whatever.

Daipenmon: This sucks I don’t have health insurance

Tailmon frantically tries to fight off the intruders while also keeping Hikari out of danger. This entire episode is about Tailmon wanting to protect Hikari and keep her at arm’s length so she doesn’t end up in danger, while Hikari just keeps trying to stay close to Tailmon and support her.

Tailmon: I can’t take you with me, Hikari. It’s too dangerous.

Hikari: Fine. Big brother, will you bring me into the heat of the action with you?

Taichi: Sure thing.

Tailmon: ...

In his defense, Taichi does seem a bit freaked when Hikari TAKES A FLYING LEAP off MetalGreymon toward Tailmon.

(no I really love that Taichi immediately understands why Hikari wants to fight and takes her right to her partner without even a token “nuu but you’re still a baby.” I mean, if Yamato’s cool with Takeru being in danger all the time, Taichi shouldn’t be much worried about it...

Hikari has a flashback! Turns out she’s heard Tailmon calling for her since she as a little kid!

She caught one of Angewomon’s feathers back then too.

Hikari promises Tailmon that she’ll be by her side. Awww.

Hands again.

Crest of Light! I kind of expect that we’ll find out about the Crests and what they mean really fast at the end of the season... although I’m still kind of hoping Mimi is mining Crest crystals atm.

Hikari is able to magically produce a Digivice... I’d completely forgot she didn’t have one till now.

Here I expected Tailmon would evolve, but instead, the power of Light appears to give everyone a power boost like it’s done in the past. They all glow with their Crest colors, kids and partners alike (except for some reason Tailmon glows yellow???) and launch a joint attack on Anomalocarimon and defeat him. Yay.

Then they say goodbye to MarineAngemon and go on their way, I guess to Farga.

So... yeah! it was a nice episode. It had a theme. There was fighting, but it didn’t overwhelm everything else. There was character development. I really can’t complain about it. And it was SHOCKING that Taichi had so few lines (compared to what’s become the norm - a GOOD shock but still I was like “omg what’s going on!!”)

I am just confused because why is this sort of episode happening when we haven’t seen it in ages? What happened in that interim between when they all met up after the first team split up and just now that prevented the show writers from having fun with the show and just writing nonstop fighting all the time? I’m so confused. It makes no sense. Still suspecting that they couldn’t get anyone to come in and voice characters for long enough so they just focused on Sanpei Yuuko/Taichi, but without the others they couldn’t figure out how to push the show forward and make it fun too... Idk. It’s so weird. But oh well. We got a good episode, and maybe it’s a sign of changes to come. I hope so.

Next week...

We get attacked by a scary looking Digimon and Hikari... Idk, thinks she can block the attack somehow? haha. Aw but look how awesome she is protecting her brother and Greymon!

Hikari gets touched by the dark powers! Oh noes!

And more cuteness.

The episode title name-drops Angewomon, which surprises me because I figured they’d hold off on her and give Tailmon Nefertimon for an evolution first. But *shrug* whatever! Looking forward to it.

#digimon adventure reboot #digimon adventure:#digimon adventure 2020 #fizz watches digimon 2020 #digimon #digi spoilers

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miss-choco-chips · 5 years

Text

Twisted soulmates

BIG Thank you to @iphoenixrising who let me babble on chat about this idea, and to @the-sky-is-a-lie who is an awesome sweetheart and read and edited this for me (THANK YOU!)

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

Tim has three names on one wrist. His soulmates. Tim has one name on the other wrist. His nemesis.

...or are they?

Tim gets his first mark the night the Graysons fell, ‘Richard John Grayson’ forever tattooed on him, the otherwise unblemished white skin of his left wrist almost shining in contrast to the new addition.

Young, he might be, but not stupid; never stupid. Neither of his parents would approve of a circus artist, perfect as he may be in Tim’s wide opened eyes, so he had to be smart about this. His mind hasn’t stopped whirling since the little touch that burned Dick’s name on him and vice versa, all kind of plans on how to broach the subject with the adults, how to make Dick like him beyond the promised love of a soulmate, every possibility dancing through his eyes, while his parents look for their seats at the stands none the wiser.

He's planning on asking his mom to stay after the show, so he might properly introduce himself to this marvelous trapezist, maybe proclaim an interest in the training - anything that could improve his overall abilities was a good thing in Janet’s eyes, and having her on board would be enough to force his father to accept. He’s excited at the prospect, and a part of him thinks Dick, up the trapeze getting ready for his act, feels the same. That he could feel, through the bond that snapped in place when the other kid first touched him, an echo of his own happiness, a joy at finding, so soon in life, something as beautiful as this.

He’s going to stay after the show. He’ll talk to Dick, introduce himself properly, be as mature as possible- Dick wouldn’t want a dumb kid as his soulmate. Maybe even make friends with this wonderful boy that can fly and is destined to love him.

(Love him, him, him. He can’t wrap his head around this strange concept of being on the receiving end of something strong and wonderful. He might cry.)

Then the tragedy occurs, and Tim's too traumatized to think about doing anything about it. He can't pester a grieving boy with this. They are kids after all, and it’s not like their bond is going anywhere.

(I don’t want to wait, please don’t forget about me, please love me.)

---.---

Dick has just been adopted, his entire worldview had changed, adding a soulmate to care about would be just too mean of him. Tim can take care of himself, even when sometimes, after his parents left for yet another trip, he yearns for someone to hold his hand after a nightmare. To brush his hair back and hug him.

But that’s just the child in him. He doesn’t need it to live, it’s just a silly comfort thing to wish for, like the baby blanket his mother had made the servants take away once Tim turned four. So he keeps quiet. He waits.

Dick’s name is on his left wrist, after all. He is his soulmate.

----.----

He gets his second mark years later, when the Batcave’s security is breached and some strange men attack Bruce. The giant penny is too tall, but he still get a good look at the man below it, and something in his gut twists. It all makes sense a few minutes later, when Bruce is fighting someone else and the man in green robes pushes Tim aside, holding him hostage to get the Batman’s cooperation.

The skin on his wrist, the one that doesn't have Dick's promised love tattooed on it, burns. He doesn’t dare look down, aware of how taking your eyes from the predator in the room could mean instant death. He doesn’t need to, anyway; he already knows.

Tim’s pretty sure this is his nemesis, because no way he'd be destined to hate Dick and love this criminal, and they are on opposite wrists. So… getting away is the first step on his ‘do not interact with this terrorist until I’m significantly better at defending myself’ plan. Easy peasy.

He catches the side glance the man shoots him, because of course he also felt the burn, and there’s curiosity there. Something akin to amusement, which, Tim can get behind, he’s also seeing the irony of this, the utterly ridiculousness of him being important enough in the grand scheme of things to warrant being tattooed on this man’s skin.

There’s also possessiveness there, which isn’t fun at all. Stranger danger, his mind screams at him.

His nemesis shouldn’t be possessive of him, unless he has a really fucked up view of his enemies, in a ‘their death is mine, and mine only’ way. Because this is his nemesis, there's no doubt in his mind of that.

Dick is on his other wrist, after all, and he is his soulmate.

----.----

Bruce goes mental when he finds out later, and almost blows a gasket. Ra’s, as Tim later finds out his nemesis is called, is suddenly one upping the Joker on Batman’s high priority enemies list, which means only a glimpse of him anywhere near the city borders would warrant a call to Superman, Bruce’s ultimate last resort. That’s how big this is.

Young Justice has split feelings on the matter. Cissie and Cassie, ever the bloodthirsty ones in Tim’s humble opinion, suggest tracking the man down before he can get to their leader, and taking him out of the game. Probably permanently. Kon seems torn, half with the girls, half with Bart, who finds the whole thing amusing and exciting. Ra’s Al Ghul, one of the most dangerous enemies the Justice League ever faced, and little old Robin is his fated enemy. Not Superman, not Wonder Woman, not Batman himself; just their Rob. That, according to the speedster, is so, so, so crash. The rest of the team, if they have opinions, keep them to themselves. It takes a while to calm the room down and focus on their mission of the day, but he eventually succeeds.

Dick, on his part, comes back from where he was brooding with the Titans after a fight with his mentor to fret over Tim, and everything is right in the world.

He isn't afraid of Ra's. He has his new family, new friends, and soulmate.

----.----

There’s something on his pillow when he gets back from the weekend with his friends.

A perfect rose, white as snow, thorns so sharp Tim knows they would pierce skin if touched. Not that he would be so stupid as to do it, not when foes like Ivy existed.

But… there’s a ribbon, and it sends ice through his veins. A red ribbon, tied at the stem’s exact center. A flower with a ribbon, the universal symbol of soulmates.

He’s pretty sure Dick’s back in San Francisco. Which leaves...

No.

He squares his shoulders and searches in his bag for his Robin gauntlets, protecting his hands with them as he disposes of the rose.

His right hand stings a little through the entire process.

----.----

When he gets his third mark, he's honestly surprised. As well as on the edge of unconsciousness from blood loss.

The blood flooding his airways is his, and the building that he believed was his safe place would never feel like that again. His knocked out friends litter the hallways, the bo staff he tried to use to defend himself long lost to the fight, as this man, his hero, his Robin, his apparent Soulmate, tries to kill him.

(Their eyes meet and they feel it at the same time, the twist in their stomachs, which is what stops Jason's blade. Tim’s hand raises up, weakly, and carefully brushes against the one holding the knife. It burns, and everything goes black for a minute.)

(Jason stops breathing. He has the Joker on one hand, and was markless on the other until now, so this runt has to be his soulmate. No way it's the deranged clown. Which means he almost....)

Jason runs away (this is Jason, his wrist claims, not the mysterious Red Hood any longer) and Tim patches himself up, does damage control with his friends, calls Batman. His heart is beating twice as fast as usual, but he tries to be logical; Jason is on the same wrist as Dick, who is his soulmate, and opposite to Ra's, who's most likely his nemesis. Ergo, Jason's gotta be his soulmate.

His confused, probably traumatized, totally not in his right mind soulmate.

He's gotta be patient and wait. Jason surely will get better, will come back to Tim, will fix this mistake he almost made, will... will love him.

Dick is his soulmate, and calls him ‘little brother’, which hurts, but he says it with such warmth that it soothes the ache. Dick loves him.

Jason will, too, someday.

----.----

A few weeks later, he wakes up in the middle of the night, conscious of the feeling of being watched from the shadows of his room.

There’s the teddy bear Steph won for him at the fair some months ago, sitting on the chair near his bed where he last put it, but… odd. There’s something about it that’s not quite normal, something that wasn’t there when he went to sleep half an hour ago.

It took him less than a minute to spot it, which would still be shameful if Bruce ever found out, but he sees the unusual shine in the bear’s eye and groans, more tired than rightfully angry, feeling like the moody teenager he never actually was.

A hidden camera. This was the fifth of the year, what the hell?

Pissed off, he gets up and takes the scissors he leaves by his bedside (can’t exactly go to sleep with a birdarang there, his dad might check on him at night and freak out, but sleeping without a weapon in easy reach just makes him uncomfortable) and makes quick work of the bear, getting the device out with as minimal damage to the plushie as possible. He’ll fix it later.

Beyond done, one hand opens the window with more strength than absolutely necessary, the other flying back to gather momentum and throw the thing right at the supposedly empty shadow on the roof of the building across the street. He’s not surprised when a dark gloved hand catches it, the rest of the body still perfectly concealed by the night. Fucking ninja.

No words needed, he slams the window shut again and grumbles his way to his desk, turning on his lamp. He’s not falling asleep again tonight, so might as well work on some cases.

----.----

His fourth mark is both exciting and like a bucket of cold water.

It's a fucking kid.

Is this how Dick felt when he first got Tim's mark? No wonder he avoided talking about the subject, this was uncomfortable as fuck. Granted, it didn't necessarily have to be a romantic soulmate, platonic soulmates were a thing too, but... still. Awkward.

Even worse because the kid didn't have another mark and, as Tim was his first, was convinced he had to be his fated nemesis. No matter how hard Tim tried to explain the opposite; after the heart stilling moment where he extended his hand for a shake and was slapped away, thus providing the skin to skin contact needed for the bond to form, the brat was sure it was nothing but a ruse to get him to lower his defenses or something. God this kid was fucked up.

So. In short. There were two of his soulmates trying to kill him. Great.

But... Dick was on the same wrist as them. Dick loved him. Dick was his soulmate. So Damian... Damian had to be, as well. Maybe he'd grow out if his hate, maybe it was just a phase.

Maybe.

----.----

His mother and father were dead. Steph was dead. His two best friends were dead.

Tim was numb, going through the motions but not really feeling anything. His only source of emotion, nowadays, was his constant rage at Damian, and the adrenaline while fighting a bad guy.

He barely slept. He couldn’t remember the last time he properly ate. The manor wasn’t comforting enough with the little assassin roaming around for him to get any shut eye, and how could Tim be sure he wasn’t going to poison his food?

Sleeping in safe houses seemed the smarter move, even when they weren’t really safe at all, judging by the ‘gifts’ that kept appearing every time he turned his back. Food - sealed and untempered with - files on whatever case he was working on, a brand of turkish coffee that he would gladly down even if it contained poison…

Flowers, hundreds of them, all white in color, tiny red ribbons tying their stems.

Tim shivered at the meaning, but no longer minded the feeling of eyes on him while he slept. Looking for hidden cameras was too much effort to be worth it, as long as there were none in the bathroom and his walk in closet. He couldn’t care less, these days.

----.----

Jason tried to kill him. Again. In the middle of a Pit Episode, even after all Tim had done to help him, to mend their relationship.

Damian was even worse, abusing Tim any way he could, any time he got the chance to get away with it. And it was a startlingly large amount of times, considering their family should be more attentive to attempted murder. None of Tim's effort to bond ever bore fruit.

But he's still convinced they are his soulmates, so he's gotta be patient. They have to be.

Because Dick is his soulmate, and they share a wrist.

Because Dick...

----.----

Dick betrayed him. In the worst possible way, in the most vulnerable moment of his life. When Tim needed him the most.

Jason tried to kill him.

Damian tried to kill him.

Dick betrayed him (which was, arguably, worse).

Dick was his soulmate. Jason was his soulmate. Damian was his soulmate.

They had to be.

----.----

His quest for Batman would’ve been a lonely affair, if not for the honeyed voice whispering in his ear. The silent eyes he felt on his skin wherever he went, more heavy than his three assassin escorts’ stares.

What a crazy world it was, where Tim’s nemesis believed in him, while his first soulmate, the one he loved almost his entire life, claimed delusion. Where his nemesis sent his people to keep him alive, to keep others out of his way, while his other two sought his death.

What a crazy world indeed.

----.----

-I think we need to talk, Timothy. About this bond we share.

-I’m listening.

Timothy, he said, but it didn’t sound like his name at all.

In his mind, it echoed something scary, something that made him shiver and tense.

It sounded like Mine.

----.----

Ra's al Ghul was probably his soulmate.

He's gotta be. Because there's no way Tim's fated to love three people that are just going to break his heart again and again and again.

When he goes to the League for help looking for Bruce, he steels himself in place when Ra's’ voice in his ear makes him want to flinch. He grits his teeth at the viper like words murmured in soft tones. Makes himself accept when Ra's offers to train him in the ninja arts after he successfully brought his mentor back. Clenches his fists when he's asked to dinner in a dimly lit French restaurant.

Ra's didn't retaliate when Tim blew up half his bases. He kept giving Tim pointers and praises. Seeking his company.

So he breathes in.

He forgave Damian for being a killer, Jason for being one, too. He surely can find it in himself to forgive his actual soulmate for being a criminal.

In time.

Right?

...Right?

----.----

Something dark and victorious twists in Ra’s chest when the Detective doesn’t flinch away from his touch, and silently accepts the white rose and red ribbon he presents before guiding him deep into the restaurant. There’s acceptance in Timothy’s eyes, reluctant but hopeful, even if he stirs away from any ‘dangerous’ topics of conversation and very firmly drops a drug test pill in his glass of water the second the waitress turns her back on them.

Ra’s doesn’t comment on it, merely mirrors the act on his own wine (one could never be too sure, not when an enemy as interesting as this is seated across from him) before raising it for a toast. Not that the Detective was aware of the reason.

He’s got a lot to celebrate.

Deceiving this one wasn’t easy, after all.

----.----

Later that night, alone in his room, Tim turns in the bed, his back to the cameras on the far end of the room. The movement is slow, lazy, following his usual sleeping patterns. A clumsy hand pats the mattress, blindly looking for a pillow and dragging it to his chest, face hidden by its softness. He goes lax again, peaceful and oblivious to the world around him to any lingering eye.

Once he’s sure there’s no way anyone could see him, Tim lets a slow, dangerous smile creep on his face, his heartbeat thundering in his chest, adrenaline pumping through his veins, feeling so alive it’s almost painful after all the numbness.

Ra’s was looking so smug, like the cat that got the canary. Oh, he tried to hide it, but Tim had made it his life's mission since he was twelve to understand the man to his truest essence, to be able to read him as one would a book, and practice had taught him how to play him like a cheap kazoo.

He probably shouldn’t smile, safe as he is in hiding his face in the pillow, but he can’t help it.

Deceiving Ra’s, soulmate or not, wasn’t easy.

#Tim Drake #dick grayson #Jason Todd #Damian Wayne #bruce wayne #ra's al ghul #Ra's is creepy #but he's smart about it #OR IS HE #Young Justice #Timdick #Jaytim #damitim #ra'stim #soulmates au #nemesis au #which one is each though #my writting

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thepoppypress · 3 years

Text

The Battleline Between Good and Evil (Runs Through the Heart of Every Man)

Chapter 6:

Harley’s head lolled onto Peter’s shoulder as they settled into one of the comfortable couches in front of the fire. Damian was turned away from both of them, not at all curious about their new guests. There was a suspicious heat to his face, however.

‘Must be the fire,’ he thinks sullenly. Soft growls and barks were heard in the corner as Piper, who had situated with Titus, attacked and viciously gnawed with her blunt puppy teeth at his wagging tail, the Great Dane lazily keeping her entertained.

Bruce sat in an armchair that seemed to shrink with his hulking figure crouched in it. Dick and Jason boxed Peter and Harley into the couch, sitting on both sides of them, Jason to Harley’s side and Dick to Peter’s. Tim sat next to Damian, sipping on his hot beverage. Alfred had excused himself to get two guest rooms and a snack ready.

“You must be quite famished after that catastrophe. Don’t worry one bit. I will be back. Excuse me.”

“So,” Dick said, throwing an arm over Peter’s shoulders, “wanna tell us what that was about?” Tim sat forward in interest.

“Yeah, why did the Joker quite literally crash into Harley’s apartment building?” Peter raised an eyebrow at the slightly taller male.

“How did you know?” Tim smirked smugly, and waved his phone in the air. “You hacked into the security cameras?” The second youngest Wayne shrugged.

“It’s not that hard.” It was Peter this time, who smirked, which threw Tim for a loop.

‘Him and Ned would be great hacking buddies,’ Peter thought, an ache present in his chest when he thought about his best friend. He wondered if he was doing okay in his world, and if he was missing Peter at all.

“Peter?” Tim asked, snapping Peter out of his small head space.

“Yeah,” he said, looking around and realizing that everyone was staring at him, save for Harley who was still leaning against him. “Yeah, sorry, I- uh,” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with the arm Harley wasn’t on, “got a little lost for a second there.”

“That’s okay,” Dick assured gently, “what were you thinking about?” Peter, not turning towards him, answered.

“A world far away from this one.” There was a far away look in his eyes, one that the Wayne siblings did not appreciate. It seemed like it made him too sad for their liking, and with one look sent over Peter’s head, Jason subtly elbowed Harley awake. While it would’ve fooled a normal person, Peter was far from normal. He felt the movement of Harley’s body and he glared at Jason, who’s smile was a tad too innocent. Harley snorted herself awake (adorably, Peter should add) and her head lifted off his shoulder.

“Wha?” The dazed and groggy look in her eyes made Peter turn his glare into a little giggle. The platinum blonde’s head snapped toward the sound and she squealed.

“Puppy!” Her arms lifted over his shoulders and she hugged his neck, smacking a kiss to his cheek. Peter gave her a small smile, ignoring Dick’s pout.

“Hey Harls,” he said softly, knowing that this was likely the start of shock that would turn into another manic episode. It wouldn’t have been the first time it happened, but she seemed to get over quickly last time (as quickly as one can). Harley opened her eyes and observed her surroundings before adopting a fearful look on her face and jumping into Peter’s arms.

Peter tried not to wince when it aggravated his wounds that had yet to heal (he wasn’t a monster, he could still be in pain from a few cuts). Instantly, he patted her back.

“Hey, you’re okay. You’re safe.” Harley squeezed tighter and it seemed like her happy visage was gone, and instead, replaced by remorse.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, trembling. Peter’s heart broke for his best friend, not for the first time that night.

“It’s not your fault,” he told her, “it’s your ex’s.” That made Peter think for a bit. A while back, it seemed like Harley knew the Wayne’s and their associates (at this point in time, things had started becoming a bit obvious to Peter about Bruce Wayne’s true career, though many things had stayed the same. The enemies for one, and the intention to protect for another.), which was suspicious to Peter. It led him to the Joker. Harley is a good person and wasn’t likely to get involved with them, if they’re mob bosses in this world.

Even before he knew her personally, he also knew a bit of Harley Quinn’s backstory. Everything started the day she met the Joker. Naturally and even more reasonably, that would be the case here as well. The Joker and Batman are mortal enemies, hence Harley was Bruce’s enemy as well (at least before she got involved with Peter, who had gotten involved with the Wayne syndicate. It made him shiver to address them like that).

“Mr. Wayne?” Bruce’s head turned to show that he had his full attention.

“Bruce, Peter,” he corrected gently, “what is it?”

“How much do you know about the Joker?” A careful look was passed around, one he’s seen being passed between Bucky, Natasha, Clint, and other Avengers who were too observant for their own good. He was sure that he wasn’t supposed to notice but being around those kinds of people, it’s impossible to not pick something up.

“Not much,” a little note of hesitancy was held.

‘He knows more than he’s letting on,’ he thought while gazing at Bruce’s face, ‘Joker is his nemesis. Of course he’d know everything.’ But something about this seemed a bit off putting to Peter.

Batman in this world may be a part of the mob but his priority was still to rid the streets of crime (in his own backwards-ass way), so if Peter needed information, considering that at least some of the Wayne children cared for him, Bruce should be able to give it up. So why wasn’t he?

‘Unless,’ he paused, ‘there’s nothing to give up.’ It’s an angle he should work more. In the meanwhile, he should also start gaining Bruce’s trust.

“Does Commissioner Gordon know anything?”

“He’ll probably know more than I do.”

“Sure. I’ll talk to Barbara and see if I can get his number.”

“We can give it to you,” Dick was quick to rush in. Peter gave him a small smile.

“Thanks Dick, but I think it’d be more appropriate to get it straight from them.”

‘I don’t want to owe you anything,’ he supplied in his own brain while bringing out his phone and shooting a text to his red-headed friend. Once he was done, he noticed that Harley had stopped trembling. Lifting her head from his neck, he saw that she was asleep.

“Actually, I also think that it’s a good time for me and Harley to turn in for the night.” Coincidentally, Alfred came in as he said those words, a couple of ham and egg sandwiches on a silver tray. The smell of light salted eggs and honey ham wafted towards his highly sensitive nose and his stomach rumbled loudly. He hadn’t had much to eat that day. Yet another reason as to why he’ll never be able to fight crime here. No food. There was an awkward pause before those around him burst into laughter. Bruce let out a small chuckle and Damian still had his head turned away. Peter blushed.

‘How embarrassing.’

“We’ll also take those sandwiches to-go please.”

-----

A violent jerk next to him had Peter sitting up with an urgency. Harley gasped, her breath coming out short and fast, and Peter was quick to reach for her shoulder and called out her name, as a reminder of him being there. He didn’t want to startle her into more of a panic than she was already in.

“Harley?” He called, brows furrowed. “Harley? Hey. Harls. I’m here.” His best friend cradled her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking with a jarring consistency that reminded him of his aunt’s when his Uncle Ben had died. He squeezed her shoulder gently and gathered her into his arms. A small sob escaped her and Peter shushed his friend, a comforting hand running up and down her back. “I’m here. I’m here,” he reassured her.

Small sniffles and sobs were pressed into his neck before a watery voice spoke.

“Promise?” There was a hesitant pause from him. Could he really promise?

“Yeah,” he agreed finally, “I promise.” The reward for the obvious answer was Harley snuggling further into his embrace. He promised her. However, actions spoke louder than words. So the question really is, would he be able to keep it?

-----

Peter yawned and trudged downstairs, leaving Harley to sleep in a bit more. The rest of the night was spent contemplating and overthinking until his head hurt while his best friend slept on with the occasional sniffle. Needless to say, he was tired.

“Oh, you’re up!” A chipper voice greeted him at the base of the stairs. He met the blue eyes of his least favorite Wayne at the moment. However, considering this was his house, he shouldn’t disrespect him.

“Yup,” he tried to sound as perky (failing, obviously).

“You know, if you need more rest, you should take all the time you need.”

“Yeah, I would but I have to go to work. I don’t have many sick days yet.” Dick grinned down at him, something he was slowly getting used to.

“Don’t worry about that, my dear! You have the rest of the week off!” If Peter was holding something in his hands, he would’ve dropped it at that moment. He took a small pause in stride to process that statement.

“What do you mean ‘I have the rest of the week off?’” Dick, now walking a little distance in front of Peter, turned around and looked at him weirdly.

“I mean that you have the rest of the week off? Why? Is that weird?” The sweet smile on his face left much to be desired. Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It would take all his patience to deal with this.

“I mean, how, Dick?” An innocent tilt of the head. A bright smile that Peter was sure led people to their ultimate demise before. The feeling of his Spidey Sense coming to life. His shoulders tensed minutely, realizing that there was someone behind him.

“We took care of it for you.” A deep voice said and Peter whirled around to face the head of the Wayne household.

“Mr.-” A stern look stopped him in his tracks. “Bruce,” he amended with a sheepish smile, “what exactly do you mean when you say ‘you took care of it for me?’” The tall man shrugged, a devilish smile on his face. He could see where his first son came to get his charismatic ways.

“We called you in sick.” It was almost as if it wasn’t computing for Peter.

“But I don’t have any sick days saved.” Bruce shrugged again.

“Well, now you do.” That left Peter in dumbfounded silence. Both father and son chuckled at the look on his face (it was a cute one, Dick would assure) before the brown haired boy found his voice again, noting the faint footsteps and feeling of impending danger that approached.

“Do I want to know?”

“Best that you don’t,” another voice said behind him, Tim, he recognized. Peter let his eyes roll back into his head and let it loll back, stretching his neck in the meantime. A series of cracks occurred and Peter let out a sigh of relief.

“Alright, you know what? It’s too early for me to want to know what happened. Maybe after I’ve had coffee or something.” Tim, holding his own coffee, placed a hand over his heart, a little smile on his face.

“A man after my own heart.” Peter peeked out of one eye and decided to tease a bit. He blew a kiss and smiled at the resulting laugh. “Walk with me?” He opened both eyes to see Tim offer an arm to him, the look of a proper gentleman (if that gentleman was as sleep deprived as possible) on his visage. With a grin, he took the arm offered and both men walked through the open door to the dining room. Behind him, he hears Damian’s voice say,

“Father? Why does Grayson have such an insipid look on his face?” It took everything in him to not laugh out loud.

-----

Peter sat in the lounge room of the Wayne’s club, the entire Wayne family around him, save for Damian, Bruce and Jim, because they had other things to do. In his lap was a textbook on advanced quantum physics and the theory of space and time, his brows furrowed in concentration.

As far as he knew, Dr. Strange could travel between worlds and would do so once he knew where Peter was. The balance was important to the good doctor after all. Even then, it didn’t hurt to gain more knowledge about the evidence of the multiverse.

Jason and that redhead from the gym were behind him playing darts, while Dick and Tim watched with amused eyes as the redhead, Roy Harper as Peter had come to know him, beat Jason with relative ease. The second eldest Wayne scowled as the others snickered around him. Another man hung around Tim, seeming the closest to him and Steph.

Yet another black-haired, blue eyed guy, complete with shaggy hair that hung in his eyes and a fade in the back. He wore large, round sunglasses and his ears were pierced severely. He gripped Peter’s hand tightly when they shook, and he introduced himself as Connor, Kon as he insisted Peter call him. His anxiety amped itself up in his presence, and where he was more or less used to the reactions to the Wayne family, he was still cautious.

From his meager knowledge about the DC Universe, he knew Roy Harper as Arsenal, formerly Speedy, Green Arrow’s sidekick, and Kon as Superboy. If Batman and his Robins kept their names here, in the Mafia-verse (as Peter so aptly calls it now), it was likely that they also had the same monikers.

At this point in time, a few days had passed since he had come to stay at Wayne Manor and got acquainted with more people from, what Peter was guessing their shadier dealings. Harley was absent today because she had some things to straighten out. She hadn’t left his side for long since that day but she reluctantly did today and Peter was concerned. He knew his best friend could take care of herself but he couldn’t help but worry.

It was then that he thought about what the last few days brought him. Since he hadn’t really had any time off from work, Steph, Dick and the other Wayne kids took turns showing him around the Manor and around Gotham. It amazed Peter. There was so much more than he realized. They also went to the popularized shopping and club district, spending as much as they wanted.

By they, Peter meant the Wayne’s because he did not have enough money to buy the things sold in that particular part of the city. And he wouldn’t accept any charity, he was clear about that before. Despite that, however, it seemed the Wayne’s didn’t listen. If he said he didn’t need or want anything, they threatened to buy everything in the store. When he finally acquiesced and got something, they insisted that that couldn’t be enough.

“A Wayne entering the store and not buying anything? Preposterous,” Dick said, a grin on his face.

“Yeah. Besides, angel, if we don’t buy anything, it’s bad for business. Rumors would spread.” Feral amusement lit up Jason’s features while Tim smirked in the background, Steph tight to his side. Harley hung off his shoulders, relaxed and obviously having fun. Peter, in the meanwhile, was not.

“BUT WE CAN’T BUY AN ENTIRE STORE’S WORTH OF THINGS!” Damian, leaning onto the counter with a nervous looking cashier, shrugged, eyes sharp and yet, laughing. His voice held some form of enjoyment. This made him sick to his stomach. Is this what rich people did?

“It’s been done before.” There was a moment before Peter exploded.

“WHAT?!” Needless to say, they bought all the merchandise in the store. And then some.

Peter returned to Wayne Manor owning more than he had ever had in his life. A new phone, watch, electronics, wardrobe (after hours and hours of Steph and Dick twirling him this way and that, having him try on things, catering to their whim. The manager was helpless to their wrath, and so was Peter.).

The sudden and faint sound of leather being poked reached his ears, snapping him out of his reverie and he knew that someone had nudged Kon, seeing as he was the only one wearing a leather jacket. A small moment passed before Kon cleared his throat. Peter lifted his head to meet his interested eyes.

“So Peter,” he started. Peter tilted his head.

“Yes Kon?” The lilt in the question paired with large, innocent looking eyes and a sweet smile made Kon blush a bit. He cleared his throat again, aware of the jealous glares that were subtly directed towards him.

“Where are you from?”

“Queens. You?”

“Smallville, Kansas, but I was born somewhere else.”

“Adopted?” Peter asked.

“Something like that. So how’d you get to know the Waynes?” Peter fingered the page of his textbook.

“Through a mutual friend, Slade Wilson. Maybe you know him?” The shocked look on Kon’s face was quite funny and Peter just stopped himself from smiling.

“You know Deathstroke?” Peter shook his flattened hand.

“As a friend, not a business contractor. We met at the bar I work at.” Kon filled out his lips into the shape of an ‘o’ and nodded.

“So then, I suppose you know what he does.” Peter nodded.

“Not the full extent, but vaguely, yes.” An awkward silence fell between them, even with the laughter that surrounded.

“So, what’re you reading about?” Peter lifted his book for him to see the cover. “Advanced Quantum Physics? Smart guy, huh?” Peter lifted one shoulder in a half shrug.

“I mean, not really? I’m just good at this stuff.” Steph snorted, teetering on the back of the couch.

“What a liar. You’re really smart Pete. You should start owning it.” Peter shrugged again and Kon nudged the second youngest Wayne next to him.

“Sounds like you, buddy.” Tim hummed, seeming amused as he watched the interaction between Kon and Peter. The look didn’t leave his face as he stood up and walked over to Peter.

“Speaking of being smart, Peter? Can you help me with this?” The chestnut haired boy quirked an eyebrow, aware of the obvious ploy that was happening and he was nervous about letting it play out.

“Sure. I’m not sure I’ll be of much help, but I’ll try.” Steph cooed, leaning her elbow on her knee and brushing a strand of curly blonde hair out of her pretty face.

“Always our humble boy.” Peter reached over and slapped her knee before she saw it coming, dislodging her arm and making her face plummet towards the ground before she righted herself. She cursed playfully at him as he laughed and walked to join Tim at the long table. A whiteboard was situated at the end of it.

About fifteen minutes later, Tim and Peter had nearly figured out everything that the second youngest Wayne needed help on, Kon and Steph joining (after she finished sulking) at Tim’s side.

“So, I was thinking that this-” Peter pointed to a statistic on a spreadsheet before the sound of something metal bouncing off wood caught his attention. His ears perked up and he could hear Roy and Jason’s voices yelling across the space and footsteps starting to stomp towards him. Suddenly, everything was in slow motion.

His Spidey Sense activated, anticipation gearing his systems as the feeling of anxiety got bigger and bigger and bigger still. The three across from him joined in, their voices creating a cacophony that Peter let sink into the background. The slice of metal through air made him tense his shoulders and with the speed gifted from the spider bite, Peter lifted his hand and caught the object that was hurtling towards him, fingers spanning across the grip, the edge of the dart a mere inch away from his temple.

Everything was no longer in slow motion and his Spidey Sense died down. Footsteps halted and a tense silence hung in the air. Peter looked at the dart that he held in his hands and up to Jason and Roy, who were staring at him in confusion. He glanced towards the three sitting across from him and saw the same look etched onto their faces. A few more moments of quiet passed before someone spoke up.

“Where did you learn how to do that?” Jason asked, jaw clenched. Peter floundered.

“I-” He shrugged helplessly, looking around in nervousness, “I don’t know. I kind of just-” he mimed what happened and shrugged again, a lost look on his face.

“You kind of just caught a dart in mid-air?”

“Yes?” He knew he was being less than convincing but he didn’t know how to act in this situation. Back home, everyone already knew about his powers and he didn’t need to explain when he did weird shit like that.

“How?!” Roy looked incredulous. Peter was really happy that Bruce wasn’t here.

“Natural talent?”

He really needed to work on his lying skills.

-----

“Tony,” Stephen gritted his teeth, “it’s been three days.”

“We haven’t found Peter yet.” The doctor sighed at his wonderfully caring, loving, and infuriatingly stubborn husband.

“You haven’t slept.” Tony sipped his coffee, a dead yet still alive look in his eyes.

“I’ll sleep when we’ve found Peter.” Stephen’s eye twitched and he bit back another sigh. He came forward from his perch behind his husband’s back and wrapped his arms around Tony’s waist, smirking when he felt Tony tense.

“Peter wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself. He’d want you to put your health first.” Seemingly ignoring him, Tony mumbled into his coffee.

“Stupid teenagers. Making their dad worry.” The rest was unintelligible by his ears and Stephen rolled his eyes.

“Wherever he is, darling, he’s fine.” Tony suddenly slammed his coffee mug down onto the table and violently turned towards his husband, scowl deepening when Stephen didn’t even move an inch. He just raised an eyebrow at him.

“Did your Wizard Tingle tell you that? How can you be so sure, Stephen?! He could be dead for all we know!” The blue eyed man scowled right back down to his husband.

“He’s not dead, Tony. I know for sure.”

“Yeah? Well I don’t know, so I’m not going to rest until I find my son.” Tony turned back around and continued tinkering around with the dimensional travelling device he was concocting.

If he could make a time traveling machine to go and stop an evil grape with a panini bread chin from eliminating half of the universe, he should be able to do this. “In the meantime, sweetheart,” the endearment was stressed and said through clenched teeth, “keep searching through the universes, dimensions, or whatever. Please. We need to find him.”

Stephen’s eyes softened. He really loved his husband. While the media made it seem like he was self-absorbed and didn’t care about anyone but himself, it was really the opposite. He cared so much that he was willing to go to the ends of the earth for his children. He had the scars to prove it.The doctor moved forward and leaned his head heavily onto the genius’ shoulder, letting his breath fan across the back of his neck.

“If I continue to search,” he whispers, “will you please go to sleep?” Tony was silent for a minute before he released the tension in his form, slumping in defeat.

“Do I have a choice?” Stephen made a humming noise.

“Well, I mean, you definitely have the choice to ignore what I say, but I will do what I have to.” Tony grumbled some more but Stephen knew that it was all in good fun.

“Fine. But you have to keep looking.” Stephen smiled at the brunette’s back as he left the lab and he called after him.

“Promise, honey!” Once he was sure Tony was out, he looked towards the ceiling. “FRIDAY.”

“Yes, Dr. Stark-Strange?” A small smile came upon his face as he heard his name. What an incredible feeling, to have his name in conjunction with the man he loves.

“Lock down the lab until he gets at least a full eight hours of sleep. Sleep Protocol.”

“Of course.” Then, Stephen opened a portal and stepped into his room to meditate. He promised his husband and it wasn’t like he wouldn’t have done it anyway. Peter was like his own son. He cared for Peter and he wasn’t stopping until Peter was found.

-----

“So,” Harley popped her bubble gum obnoxiously, “I heard from a little birdy that my Puppy did something badass today.” Peter snorted.

“Did you? Lemme guess. Steph?” Harley smirked from her perch on the bathroom sink.

“Spot on as always, Pup. So,” she tilted her chin coyly, bringing her knees up to her chest, “what happened?”

“Nothing much. I just stopped a dart from hitting me. That’s all.” Peter finished washing his hands and left the bathroom with Harley in tow, pouting at the lack of information.

“Aw, Puppy! You can’t just leave me without all the details! Spill! Spill!” He laughed, the sound echoing down the long hallway as they walked towards the dining room.

“It really was nothing! Also, how are you so chipper?” Harley tsked, as if the last few days, if not weeks, weren’t immensely hard on her.

“In my line of work, we need to get over things very quickly. This is no exception. And stop changing the subject!” The argument continued until they reached the dining room.

“Look Harley! There’s nothing to tell you other than the fact that I caught a dart when I went to scratch my head.”

“There has to be more than that!”

“There really isn’t! I caught a dart! End of story!” Those who were already sitting at the dinner table looked up as the duo came in.

“Talking about today?” Steph asked, leaning back into the chair. “You should’ve been there, Harley. It was badass.”

“I know!” Harley whined. “It would’ve been so cool!” Peter groaned as they sat down at the table. The others looked at them, not even trying to be subtle.

“There is literally nothing to it! I happened to grab it when I went to scratch my head!” Jason and Dick grinned while Tim chuckled into his water (Alfred said enough with the coffee. For today.). Damian, who wasn’t at the lounge, looked a bit confused but didn’t ask.

“Okay, okay, we believe you,” Dick tried to placate. Peter gave him a deadpan look, knowing for a fact that it wasn’t true. He also knew that they happened to latch onto this new information, considering that their background checks didn’t yield anything useful. Or really anything at all, with him being from another dimension and all that jazz. Peter sighed.

“Whatever.” Steph and Jason snickered while Harley huffed.

“Not whatever, Pup! I still wanna know!” Jason perked up.

“You haven’t told her yet?” Harley shook her head, looking towards the man with extreme excitement.

“Tell me, tell me!” Jason started recounting the situation earlier, Harley paying attention. Damian typed away on his phone, trying to make it less obvious that he was listening quite raptly as well. By the end of it, Harley was gasping with shock (Jason, the Shakespeare nerd he is, made it so much more dramatic than it really had been).

“That was so much more than what actually happened!” Peter scowled at Jason, who smirked in return.

“Every heroic tale deserves to be told in style, angel.”

“I saved myself from attaining a hole in my head from a dart. Whoop-dee-fucking-doo.” Dick gasped, one hand covering his mouth and the other pointing straight at Peter.

“You swore! You shouldn’t swear. Angels don’t swear!” Peter’s eye twitched, an annoyed expression obvious on his face (though he wasn’t as annoyed as he should’ve been).

“I’m not an angel! I-” The doors to the kitchen opened with Alfred and Bruce carrying plates of food. They placed them on the table and sat down at their respective spots (at the head and the right side of the head).

“You what Peter?” The chestnut haired boy blushed and looked away, the feeling of slight embarrassment prevalent in him.

“Nothing.” Bruce gave him a weird look while everyone else looked amused.

“If you’re sure.” Peter said nothing else and Bruce nodded in assent. “Alright. Let’s eat.”

-----

After dinner, Harley, for reasons unknown to Peter, left, but not before meeting Barbara at the door of Wayne Manor.

“Are you sure you guys will be alright, Harls?” Harley rolled her eyes, an exasperated, but fond look on her face.

“I’m sure Pete. Now go and hang out or do something interesting. I swear, you worry as a hobby. You’re gonna get boring.” Peter pursed his lips, looking adorably concerned and a little insulted.

“I do interesting things!” Barbara and Harley snorted. Peter, in an act of defiant childishness, stuck his tongue out at them and closed the door in their faces, ignoring the loud laughter that reached his ears from the other side. “I am interesting!” He muttered to himself, barely surprised when an arm was thrown around him.

“Sure you are, angel.” Peter shot him an irritated look.

“You know, I’m not an angel right?” Jason looked down on the boy trapped to his side.

“What makes you say that?” Peter looked on darkly, weirdly introspective.

“You attract what you are. I’m friends with a mercenary and someone who deals with some of the shadier sides of things. Not to mention, her boyfriend, a notorious gang member, is after us because I convinced her to break up with him,” he said simply.

‘Too simply,’ Jason thinks. ‘He must really believe this.’

“That’s not necessarily true, Pete.” Blue clashes with doe brown as Peter turned his large eyes up to meet Jason’s.

“How so?”

“It’s not that you attract what you are. What if you are kind but you attract people who are mean? Or you’re loyal, but attract cheaters. It’s not ‘you attract what you are,’ but ‘you attract those in desperate need of what you are.’ Like us.”

Peter was quiet for a moment. Seeing that he wasn’t going to say anything else, Jason continued.

“Besides, even if you aren’t an angel, you’re our angel.” Jason lets Peter go from his side and uses his longer legs to stride in front of him, turning when he is to face Peter. He steps towards the shorter man, towering over him. Jason brings a hand up to Peter’s face and cradles his cheek in a calloused hand. Peter stays still, frozen at the contact. “Whether you like it or not.”

-----

“Tony!” Stephen yelled, bursting through his portal and into Tony’s bedroom. Tony blinks blearily before recognizing his husband and sitting up.

“Hey hon. What’s wrong?”

“I figured out where Peter is!” Tony’s eyes widened, now more awake than ever.

“What?! Where is he?!” Stephen shoves something into Tony’s hands. The genius looks down and squints in confusion.

“Why are you giving me a comic book?” Stephen pointed straight to the comic book, which was titled, “Batman: The Mafia-Verse.”

“He’s in there.” A pause of silence before Tony raises the book.

“Peter.” His husband nods.

“Yes.”

“Peter Parker.”

“Yes.”

“Is in a comic book?”

“Yup.” Another pause of silence.

“What the actual fuck?!” Stephen nodded sagely.

“Wait until you read it.” His husband looks at him weird.

It took Tony ten minutes to read to the stopping point.

“OH HELL NO!”

-----

The bad news came in the morning. Jim Gordon, with tears streaming down his face, came knocking on Wayne Manor’s door. Bruce opened it.

“Jim?!” He reacts with shock and concern for his old friend. “What’s wrong?!” The police commissioner of Gotham City collapses into Bruce’s arms, clutching at shoulders awkwardly but too overcome with grief to notice.

“Babs-” he gasped out, voice hoarse, “she’s in the hospital.” Bruce’s blue eyes widened.

By then, Peter had heard the commotion from his bedroom (now separate from Harley’s) and came rushing down to be greeted by the sight of the sobbing commissioner.

“Commissioner Gordon! What happened?”

“He got to her! She’s in the hospital! And Harley! Oh Harley!” Peter’s blood froze, and his ears pounded. In the background, he could hear multiple footsteps rushing towards them. Peter surged forward.

“Jim! Jim! What happened to Harley?!” Jim could barely get his words through, but eventually could.

“Harley. She’s-” a gasp, “gone.” Another gasp. “The Joker. He took her.”

Previous: Part 5

Next: Part 7

#MafiaBatfam #Mob Boss Bruce Wayne #Mob Boss Dick Grayson #Mob Boss Jason Todd #Mob Boss Tim Drake #Mob Boss Damian Wayne #Peter Parker is Spider Man #Peter Parker x Batfamily #Reverse Harem

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hargreeveslftv · 4 years

Text

The Occult: DOOMSDAY | an umbrella academy fanfic

chapter ten | word count: 3,170

CHAPTER TEN | looming ( song | oh ana - mother mother )

"If he's in here, you owe me ten bucks." Klaus comments to Melanie as he leads the way to the door of the Irish pub, not all that far from the academy.

"Deal." She shrugs, shaking his hand but sighing as he pushes open the door, pointing to the large silhouette of their number one.

"I'll give it to you later." She says begrudgingly, following Diego inside the pub.

"Trying a little hair of the dog are we?" Klaus asks Luther, the siblings filling the space around him.

"Leave me alone." He comments bitterly.

"Give us a moment." Diego tells them, the three looking at him confused as he puts his gloves down on the table.

"Okay. Come on. Maybe they'll brood each other to death." Klaus sighs, Five and Melanie following him to another table a couple away, close enough to watch for any signs of hostility.

"Isn't this basically the plot to Batman vs Superman?" Melanie asks, watching the two men talking.

"Kinda, but Martha has a better ring to it than Reginald." Klaus replies, Five scoffing at their conversation.

"It's more like Beevis and Butthead but sure, let's go with the hero's thing."

Melanie is almost about to pat herself on the back at making Five's humor appear for a moment, but doesn't get a chance as Luther bolts up, running out of the door and leaving the rest of them to follow, breaking the door as he runs through it.

Luther instantly spots the car they arrived in, yet another one from Reginald's garage, and quickly makes his way over, only stopping for a moment as Five calls to him.

"I'm driving. Get in the back."

Luther does as instructed, everyone else catching up to him and Five climbing in the drivers seat while Klaus calls shotgun.

Diego opens the door for Melanie, but she hovers a couple steps back, rooted in place as Diego frowns when she glances up to him, a panicked look on her face.

"Hey, you good?" He asks quietly, tears starting to burn in her eyes as her words escape her, Diego recognising the look of fear.

"Somethings wrong. I don't know what." She signs.

Diego's heart drops at her actions, placing a supportive hand on her shoulder.

"It'll be okay. We'll protect you. I'll protect you." He reassures her, the anxiety still washing over her body, but feeling returning to her hands and feet instead of the cold shivers of her approaching panic attack.

Melanie nods slowly, letting Diego lead her to the car, where she slides in beside a slightly drunk Luther, Klaus looking over the back of his seat with a worried look on his face, unshed tears burning in his eyes.

"You too?" He asks as Diego closes the last door, Five starting the car and pulling away from the curb.

Wordlessly, Melanie nods, Klaus smiling at her sadly before turning around in his seat.

The journey from the city to the remote cabin takes most of the remaining sunlight, a blue haze falling over the world as Melanie sat between Diego and Luther, being squashed between the two larger men offering some form of comfort as they traveled.

The majority of the journey was passed in silence, apart from Luther's prompting to go faster and Five's loose threats, a sense of impending doom hanging like early morning fog between those that sat in the car, not lifting until the wooden cabin came into view.

"We're here." Five announces, darkness fully taking over as night settled in.

Melanie takes a deep breath as she follows Diego out of the car, hanging close to him as the five of them bolt up the stairs, Luther leading the way and bursting through the cabin door.

"Allison! No!" He yells, immediately falling to his knees.

Klaus, Five and Diego rush in, and until Melanie makes it past them, she doesn't see her sister laying on the floor in a pool of blood, her throat slashed and eyes barely responsive.

Klaus barely glances back at Melanie for a moment, but it's enough for them to know.

This is what they felt coming.

Luther's tears are the first to fall as he calls Allison's name, Klaus hovering above him scared to make a move at all, while Diego and Five stood in shock at what they saw, Melanie standing behind them all, her body locked in terror as she watched on with the only thing she felt being the slightest touch of a shaking hand holding hers.

The whole trip back to the academy is a blur, Melanie and Klaus stuffed into the front on the way back, their hands joined tightly as they tried to silently comfort each other through the horror they felt.

Melanie ran around the car as they arrived back, shutting the doors of the car behind her brothers as they ran inside the house, Allison in their arms much like Five was in hers and Melanie's only the night before.

Tears fall down Melanie's face as she stands between Klaus and Pogo in the medical room, Grace quickly inspecting Allison as Five helps her.

"She's suffered a severe laceration to her larynx and requires operation, one of you will need to give blood." Grace informs them, everyone in the room replying at once.

"I will." The men and Melanie reply, all rolling sleeves out of the way instantly.

"I'm doing it." Luther insists, before Pogo speaks up.

"I'm afraid that's impossible, dear boy. Your blood is more compatible with mine." He reminds him, Klaus jumping in instead.

"Hey don't sweat it. I got this, big guy." He declares, running around the bed and slapping his arm. "I love needles."

"Master Klaus," Pogo interrupts, "Your blood is… how shall I say this? Too polluted."

"Move, I'll do it." Diego says next, moving in front of Klaus.

But, as Grace turns around with the needle, a whimper is all that is heard as Diego faints at her feet.

Pogo nods, looking down at his passed out body before looking up to Grace.

"Stick him."

Luther helps pick him up, setting him down in a chair pushed beside Allison's medical bed before Grace goes about hooking him up.

"We'll need more than just one doner. Master Five, Miss Melanie, I'm afraid you'll have to contribute as well if we hope for Miss Allison to recover." Pogo warns them, both nodding instantly.

"I'll go next. Five is still healing, he needs more time." Melanie insists, Pogo agreeing to let her know when she was needed so she could finally leave the room.

She doesn't take notice of what happens next, only knowing her feet lead her out of the medical room and towards the bedrooms, but not close enough to make it to the bedroom itself, it seems.

With exhaustion catching up to her body, Melanie collapses in the hallway outside the bedroom doors, her memories brought back as vividly as in her dream, but instead of being picked up by her best friend, Melanie instead pulls herself closer to the wall, leaning against it with her knees curled to her chest as the near constant tears of the night continued to fall down her face.

Sick of the helpless feeling clinging to her body, she pulls herself up from the floor, kicking her boots off on the way as she walks into the bathroom, filling the sink with cold water.

Tying her hair back with the hair tie around her wrist, she splashes the cold water in her face, the salt water of her tears getting lost as the temperature shocks her system.

Gasping for breath after splashing her face again, she almost can't hear Klaus as he calls her name from his bedroom.

"Coming!" She calls back, grabbing a towel and drying off her face quickly, before sidestepping her abandoned boots and bursting into Klaus's room.

"What's going… on?"

Klaus stands with his eyes wide in shock, staring directly at Ben who was still frozen in place, looking down at his hands.

"Can you see Ben?" Klaus asks her carefully, her eyes following his line of sight but seeing nothing but his room.

"No, not since that time in the car." She denies, brow knotting in confusion, "Why?"

"Because he just punched me in the face and I think I'm losing my shit." He replies in a whisper.

"Wait, you're serious aren't you?" She asks, her face softening as she realised how shaken he was.

With a small nod, Melanie moves closer, settling a comforting hand on his shoulder as she tries to make sense of things.

"Well, you said it yourself, you're a day sober, that's more sober than you've been basically the whole time we've known each other." She rationalises, Klaus nodding in understanding.

"Yeah, yeah you're right. You know, maybe with this whole world ending thing it'll actually be kinda helpful." He shrugs with a wave of his hands, Melanie smiling at him encouragingly.

"Exactly, then Ben can join the group hug as we kick it." She jokes, looking to the side where Klaus could see Ben shaking his head, arms crossed, but a small smile still on his face.

"You two," Five interrupts, head poking in the doorway, "living room. Now."

Melanie, Klaus and Ben watch him as he walks off, Melanie letting out a sigh as she looks back to Klaus.

"We'll come back to this after, yeah?" Melanie asks, to which Klaus nods, sighing deeply.

"Was he always this bossy?" She asks.

"Yeah, more or less." She hears from beside her, eyes going wide as she realises it wasn't Klaus who spoke.

"Okay, we're coming back to that as well."

Melanie, Ben and Klaus rush downstairs, joining a now conscious Diego and Five as they both pace the living room, Klaus curling up on one couch while Melanie and Ben took the other.

"The bastard that nearly killed our sister's still out there, with Vanya." Diego says, obvious bitterness in his tone. "We need to go after her."

"Vanya is not important." Five interrupts, causing the eyebrows of everyone in the room to rise.

"Hey, that's your sister. A little heartless, even for you, Five." Diego scolds.

"I'm not saying I don't care about her," He defends himself, "but if the apocalypse happens today, she dies along with the other seven billion of us. Harold Jenkins is our first priority."

"I agree. Let's go." Diego nods, before he's interrupted.

"I have a question," Melanie asks, raising her hand and watching as they turned to her.

"Say we find this sick son o' bitch, does anyone specific have to kill him or is it whoever sees him first?"

Five frowns for a moment, before shrugging slightly.

"Well, I'd say he was fair game, nothing else has said it needs to be otherwise." He replies, Melanie nodding with a small smile, a plan already formulating in her head as they continued to speak.

"You guys can count me out." Klaus speaks up as Melanie stands up, ready to follow Five and Diego out, all stopping in their tracks at his words.

"I mean, you know, no offence or whatever. It's just… I kind of feel like this is a whole lot of pressure for newly sober me, so…"

"You're coming." Diego insists, but Klaus keeps trying to fight his point, the bickering growing more irritating by the second.

"Klaus, get up."

"You can't make me." He replies, eyes squinting at Diego as his face changes to a look one might describe as "oh really bitch" as he reaches for one of his knives, sending it directly into the couch between Klaus's legs.

"Okay then again, a little exercise couldn't hurt." He sighs, getting up from the couch and leading the way out.

"Idiots." Melanie says under her breath, Five being the only one to hear her.

"At least some things never change."

By the time the four arrive at Harold Jenkins house, the last of the moonlight is replaced by bright sunshine, Diego climbing out of the car first as the rest followed him.

"You gonna jump through the door again?" Melanie asks him as he leads them to the front door.

"You ever get tired from being the comedic genius of the family or does it just come naturally?" He asks her back sarcastically, frowning as they see the front door ajar.

"Stay behind me." Melanie warns Five, stepping in front of Diego with her hands already starting to glow as she pushes the door open, ready to jump into action.

Five squints at her attempt at protecting him, following behind Klaus and Diego as they quietly walk in behind her.

"Oh, shit. Nevermind." She says, drawing back her powers as she stands in the archway of the kitchen, Harold's body laying lifeless in the middle of the room.

"It's not exactly what I was expecting." Diego comments as the siblings filter around the chaotic scene.

Just about every sharp object within the house sat lodged into his body, one hell of a grizzly corpse being left on top of the shattered remains of a dining table and various other items of the kitchen.

"The understatement of the year." Five agrees, Klaus taking a closer look before looking to the rest of them.

"No sign of Vanya."

"Good, hopefully she's somewhere safe." Melanie comments, turning to follow Klaus and Diego as they walk out.

"Let's get out of here, before the cops come." Diego instructs.

"In a minute." Five stops them, bending down beside Harold's body.

Five pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, dropping a prosthetic eye out of the folded fabric and taking the bandage off of Harold's face, slipping the eye into the socket with a disturbingly moist sound.

"Same colour, same pupil size. Guys, this is it. The eye I've been carrying around for decades, it-" Five says happily, "it's found its rightful home."

"Poetic cinema." Melanie says sarcastically, speaking mostly just to cover up the noise of Five removing the eye again.

"We got the guy we needed to kill to stop the apocalypse." Diego says in disbelief, Klaus quick to celebrate jokingly.

"Yay! Let's go."

Quickly turning to leave, Diego grabs the back of his shirt, pulling him back into the group between him and Melanie as Five speaks.

"No, no. Wait. It can't be this easy." He frowns, standing up again, "look, this is the note I got from the commission. The one that says protect Harold Jenkins, aka Leonard Peabody."

He pulls the paper from his pocket, the siblings gathering around him.

"Yeah?"

"But who killed him? Who did this?" Five asks, Klaus immediately chiming in.

"I have a crazy idea. Crazy, but why don't we find Vanya and ask her what happened?"

Before he can even finish his sentence, Five blips away, Melanie nodding at his idea and ignoring the fact Five was gone again.

"I agree with him." Melanie says to Diego, who nods as well.

"If Vanya got away from this asshole, she might be headed back to the academy." He theorises, looking to Melanie as she claps her hands.

"Let's get back then so we can set up the welcome party."

It doesn't take the three of them long to get back to the academy, Five already searching for Vanya as they arrive and start assisting in his efforts.

"No sign of Vanya." He sighs, as the four of them converge on the upper level of the foyer.

"She's not in any of the rooms." Diego replies, Klaus flailing his hands helplessly.

"She's not downstairs, either."

"Or anywhere else in this damn place." Melanie adds, hands on her hips.

"Well, I'm out." Diego announces, patting Klaus on the shoulder as he walks past him.

"You're what?" Melanie asks, frowning as she watches him.

"Wait, where are you going? Vanya's still out there, and so are Hazel and Cha-Cha." Five says, not able to detour him as he stops at the end of the hallway.

"I know. I'm gonna get my things then I'm outta here. I've got some unfinished business with those fools."

"And nows the time for the macho man saves the day act?" Melanie calls after him, annoyance reaching a fever point.

"Good a time as any." He calls back, disappearing around the corner.

Melanie sighs, leaning against the railing beside Klaus as Five turns to them.

"Hey, did Dad say anything about the apocalypse when you spoke to him? Any clue on how it happens?" Five asks Klaus, who just shakes his head in response.

"No, no clues. Truly terrific shave. But no clues."

Five sighs aggressively before he starts walking away, Klaus running to keep up with him as Melanie crossed her arms and followed along.

"Well come to think of it he did mention something about my potential, and how I've barely scratched the surface of my-"

"How did he know about the apocalypse?" Five asks, interrupting him.

"I don't know, but listen. This whole jumping through time thing of yours, how did… how did you know how to do that?" Klaus asks, stopping him at the bottom of the stairs.

"I didn't." He admits, "you'd realise that if you were actually sober."

Melanie frowns at his words, completely discrediting his brother for no good reason.

"Hey I am sober. I've been sober for two, almost two days now. It feels like forty-five years." He argues, but Five just walks away towards the living room.

"Who are you kidding, Klaus? I've seen you fidgeting all day." Five frowns, Klaus taking a step closer to him.

"If he wasn't sober I wouldn't be able to hear Ben. But I've been hearing him for at least the last day now so maybe you're actually wrong for once." Melanie defends, walking down the stairs and standing by her brother's side.

"Exactly. At least I have back up for what I'm saying. I guess we're both fighting our addictions." Klaus says lowly, Five shaking his head in denial.

"I'm not an addict."

"Yeah you are." Klaus says, "You're addicted to a drug called the apocalypse."

"You're wrong."

"First sign. Denial." Klaus points out, turning to walk away but getting stopped as Five blips into his path, finger pointing in his face.

"You and I, we're not the same."

"I've seen that look in the eyes of someone who doesn't know who they are without their high anymore. Trust me. You gotta just let it go."

With a scowl on his face, Five throws the prosthetic eye past Melanie, it shattering against the wall as he storms off.

Melanie watches Five walk off again, before looking to Klaus, who stands wringing his hands beside her.

"I know you're not lying. I think they just might need a bit more convincing than I do." She smiles sadly at him, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, maybe." He agrees with a sigh, watching as she pats his arm before walking away.

chapter eleven coming saturday, oct 12th

#Umbrella academy #tua #the umbrella academy #tua fanfic #Umbrella academy imagine #umbrella academy fanfic #tua imagine #ben hargreeves imagine #ben hargreeves fanfic #Ben hargreeves

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attackpunk · 4 years

Text

Mayhem and Matrimony, Chapter One

Rating: Explicit, but not until future chapters, Pairings: Batman/Joker, Warnings: none

I will be posting more of this if people are interested, so leave a comment and a reblog why dontcha?

It was never sunny in Gotham. In fact, it was hardly ever daytime. Nights always seemed unusually long, and when the morning did deign to arrive, it always came with an entourage of clouds. This was the way that all Gothamites preferred to live. If they wanted sunlight, they would have lived in Metropolis (and Metropolis was just too… metropolitan for any respectable Gothamite).

Unfortunately, the Joker was not a respectable Gothamite. He was not a respectable anything, and he quite liked it that way. The Joker loved sunlight. He loved warm breezes and balmy afternoons. If it weren’t for a few choice superheroes, he would have moved to Metropolis long ago. Yet he stayed. His philosophy was that Gotham had character. Everything in Metropolis was pre-packaged and plastic wrapped, much like their god-like Boy Scout, but Gotham had life. And of course, Gotham had his beloved Bat.

Joker prided himself on being a psychopath, even a sociopath- yet when it came to the Bat, his heart melted. Nay, it soared. If only Batsy felt the same way. Actually, scratch that, if only Batsy realized that he felt the same way. Then everything would be tickety-boo.Joker surveyed his surroundings and smiled. Everything was going perfectly. A stunt like this was not only expensive, stylish, and daring, it was also a declaration. He wanted to see how much he could push his Bat, and if he got a happily ever after in the process? Well, then it would be a win-win!

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harley skating towards him with a clipboard.

“Everything’s ready, boss,” she trilled happily, chewing her bubblegum. She held the clipboard out to him,“Just need you to sign these terms and conditions and we’ll be on our way.”“Perfect, dollface, just perfect!” Joker said, clapping his hands together. He felt like a schoolgirl getting ready for prom night. Only with more murderous intent. Or maybe not. It all rested on Batsy.

He made his way over to the car he was going to be riding into the GCPD. It was one of his trademarks, a purple Lamborghini with green accents. It was garish, grotesque, and altogether way too expensive to have any kind of quality or class. He loved it. Getting in, he wondered just how this would all play out. Fuck, was he nervous?

No. Obviously not. The Joker, the scourge of Gotham, did not get nervous over a boy. Not even one that he was madly in love with. One that he would do almost anything for. But what if…

No! He was not going to think about things going wrong. Batsy would see reason. He had to. Or Gotham’s streets would run red with blood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce Wayne was a little bitch. At least, that’s what Batman thought. Nevermind the fact that he was Bruce Wayne; that was a technicality. No, in his civilian persona he chose to be a little bitch. It diverted suspicion away from what he spent most of his waking nights doing. And yet, he felt… empty. Like something was missing. Maybe he spent too much time as Bruce Wayne. Or maybe it was the opposite. Anyways, he was headed to the GCPD to be a public disturbance. Of course, he would be a calculated public disturbance. The real reason for his trip to the GCPD was to gather intel. Gordon had come to him about a potential mole in the precinct, and had asked him to discreetly monitor the officers. Batman was not discreet. Neither was Bruce Wayne, but at least no one knew that Bruce Wayne could sucker punch them into oblivion.

So that was the reason why Alfred was driving them into the grey, grey city in a black, black car, dodging traffic and politely cursing the absolute atrocities that were committed by the drivers of Gotham on the daily.

Of course, it was just their luck that when they arrived it was absolute chaos. Bruce was not a betting man, but he was willing to bet the entirety of Wayne Enterprises that the Joker was behind it. It would make sense. The Joker was a psychopath, with no moral compass to speak of. Or, Bruce thought, perhaps he had too much of a moral compass.

Gotham cops, and even cops in general, were not the most compassionate of creatures. Maybe this was the Joker’s twisted sense of justice. But it was not his job to psychoanalyze his arch-nemesis. Although, it wasn’t like the shrinks at Arkham were doing a good job of it.

Bruce shook himself. Gotham needed him; what was he doing thinking about the Joker’s motivations? That sort of thinking was reserved for the Batcave, and if Bruce were being completely honest with himself, his bed. Now was not the time.

“Alfred,” he said, voice slipping so naturally into that gravelly growl, “Is there a Batsuit anywhere close to here?”

Alfred glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

“Sir, do you even have to ask? I would have thought you had every location of every Batsuit memorized.”

“I’m a Bat, Alfred, not a computer,” Bruce replied dryly.

“I have one in the trunk, sir. Should I drive towards the nearest safehouse? Or mayhaps an alley?”

“Alley will be fine. Our main priority is protecting the people.”

Then, somehow, impossibly, things got even weirder. Well, perhaps not so weird for Gotham, but definitely weird by literally anybody else’s standards. The Joker was on a pedestal, rising above the chaos below like an angel. An angel in a wedding dress wielding a flamethrower.

Miles away, Superman heard a chorus of “what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck” from Gotham. That was a rare occurrence; nobody in Gotham was disturbed by anything. Until now. Clark paused. Should he go investigate? No, Batman probably had things under control. Besides, he thought, punching a robot, he had his own problems.

Back in Gotham, the Joker was having a roaring time at the GCPD. Everybody was confused and hysterical, which was just the way he liked it. He signaled to Harley, who turned on the speakers attached to the trucks his henchmen had ridden in.

“Good morning, Gotham!” he yelled, his voice amplified by the lapel mic on his breast, “Are y’all having a lovely time?”

“No!” the people of Gotham yelled back, on fire and spiteful.

“Well, alright then. Would you like all of this mayhem to stop?”

“Yes?” yelled the people of Gotham, on fire and suspicious.

“Well then I only ask for one thing, dear Gothamites. I want…” Joker paused. Make them wait for it…

“Batman’s hand in marriage!”

Boom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Batman in question was halfway through putting on the Batsuit when he heard the shocking declaration. Now, Batman of course did not freeze in shock. The only time Batman was frozen was when Mr. Freeze scored a lucky hit. What he was currently doing was… analyzing the situation. While not moving. With his mind completely blank. It certainly did not take Alfred getting out of the car and slapping him across the face to get him to move again. It was five minutes before Batman burst onto the scene of the decimated GCPD, and everything was still on fire. Fucking typical. Only now the Joker was using his flamethrower (was it bedazzled?) to burn down the entire precinct. And the firefighters were trying to get through a blockade of stolen, armored trucks.

“Fuck,” Bruce whispered under his breath. Then he said it a little louder for good measure. Joker was speaking again, having caught sight of him.

“Batsy, my darling, did you hear my proposal? You marry me, and I’ll stop terrorizing Gotham!”

“Over my dead body. You’re insane!” Batman shouted back, though he was barely audible above the sounds of general mayhem.

“Maybe so, but this is an offer that’s too good to pass up, don’tcha think?”

Bruce stopped and thought about it. Personal sacrifice had never meant anything to him. He had given up any semblance of a normal life the moment he put on the cowl. And marriage to the Joker came with an end to his reign of terror. Who knew when an offer like this would come again? And, who knew what the Joker’s retaliation would be if he refused? Oh, fuck. Was he really doing this?

He was. He found himself scaling the demolished precinct, trying to get up to the Joker’s level. Or, metaphorically, stooping down to it. Either way, soon he found himself standing on the Joker’s pedestal, gazing upon him in all his wedding dress and flamethrower glory. Fuck, he was beautiful.

Wait, did he really just think that? Well, said a tiny, sarcastic part of his brain, he is your future husband. Oh, fuck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I accept your proposal,” Batman growled at him, looking both angry and nervous at the same time. Damn, that was a look. Wait, did Batsy just say yes? Joker gaped in shock. He hadn’t actually expected this to work. Batsy looked nervous, and Joker would bet his entire criminal empire that he did too. God, they really were a pair of idiots, weren’t they?

“Hey, boss!” Harley shouted up to them.

“Oh, thank God,” he and Batsy said. In unison.

“Wow, we’re practically an old married couple already, Batsy!” Joker joked as they watched Harley get closer to them, dragging a harried justice of the peace behind her.

“Don’t push it,” Batman warned, a tic forming in his jaw.

“Alright, my love,” Joker purred. Oh, this could be rather fun. He’d be able to mess with his Bat as much as he wanted once they were married. Which would be very soon. Oh wow. He and Batsy would be married. As in, till death do us part.

Or maybe not. The Justice of the peace had apparently broken free of Harley's grasp, and was now taking to the hills along with the rest of the populace. Smart guy, Joker thought. Or not, since Harley appeared to be in pursuit.

"So, we're getting… married right now? You're not going to try and court me first?" Batsy said, and was it the Joker's imagination or did he look put out? Well, that simply would not do. He only wanted the best for his Bat.

"Why, Batsy, what do you call all of our midnight trysts?" he replied, hoping to assuage his beloved.

"You consider trying to kill each other foreplay?" And oh, wow, was that a bit of sardonic humor in Batsy's voice?

"Why, yes I do! Would you rather I took you out to dinner? I, ah, don't quite think that would be received all too well, Bruce Wayne in a fancy restaurant with the Joker. People might talk."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce gaped.

"How the hell do you know who I am? And why the hell did you say that so loud! Isn't your mic still running? Oh my fucking God, what is wrong with- wait, no, that's a stupid question," Bruce was well aware that he was rambling, but it was definitely justified because his insane arch-nemesis knew his secret identity!

"Relax, baby, I already disabled the mic. And it wasn't that hard to figure out your 'secret identity.' Bruce Wayne is the only person in Gotham with enough money to fund this kind of endeavor and a tragic enough backstory to warrant it. I'm insane, not an idiot," Joker said.

Bruce relaxed, if only slightly. This could actually work to his advantage, if he played his cards right (pun intended). Joker had never come after him in his civilian persona. Maybe that was a sign of trust between them? Bruce mentally shook himself. How could he ever trust the Joker?

You’re trusting him enough to marry him, that sadistic voice inside him whispered.

“Oh, motherfucker,” Bruce groaned, feeling a headache coming on.

“What’s wrong, dearest?” Joker asked, looking for all the world like a concerned bride-to-be, and wasn’t that a scary thought?

“What the fuck do you think is wrong, Joker, I’m marrying an insane clown with a penchant for extravagant murder sprees,” he snapped. This situation was getting too ridiculous even for Gotham, they were thirty feet in the air and the Joker was wearing a wedding dress. He was allowed to be a little angry. Angry at what, he didn’t know. Angry at the world, the Joker, himself; it was all the same thing.

He found himself staring at the Joker, almost accusingly. Though Bruce was loath to admit it, Joker did look stunning.

“Batsy, not to alarm you, but we have a wedding to...perform? Do? Is that the right word? Either way we’re getting hitched. Come on, you can look at me during the honeymoon, God, this corset is tight.”

Joker lowered the platform they had been standing on, which really was too small for two grown men, and began to walk towards his Lamborghini, Bruce awkwardly following him.

"Where are we going?" Bruce found himself asking against his better judgement.

"To where the ceremony is being held. Did you really think I'd marry you in the ruins of a police station? Not really my, ah, style, wouldn't you say?"

Bruce had to admit he was right. Joker's style was much more… gauche. It was something to be appreciated. Almost.

They approached the car, Joker sliding easily into the driver's seat. Bruce walked around to the passenger side, feeling vulnerable.

Christ, he was getting married. To his arch-nemesis. That was knowledge that would probably never sink in fully. How was this his life? He was in a car, a Lamborghini no less, with the Joker driving them to their wedding. Their fucking wedding. Bruce was panicked. No, no; not panicked. Batman did not get panicked. He was a calm, collected figure of justice, and he should damn well act like it. That didn't stop his stomach from twisting into knots. God, he really was like a bride on her wedding day.

Would Joker expect them to consummate their marriage? Ice flooded his veins. Bruce may be into men and women, but he had never once had relations with another man. He had fantasized, of course, imagined strong hands on his hips and a thick cock in his ass, but he had never acted upon the desires that left him tangled in his sheets, panting. But now… he was getting married. And the Joker was a man. Who was most likely in love with him, however much sense that made. Maybe now…

No. He would not submit to the scourge of Gotham for something as base as desire. He never had, and never would. But would he if it were for the good of Gotham? What if this was the only way to save his city? Joker had promised to stop his villainous ways if Bruce accepted his proposal, and he had. Wouldn't such a union between them, however complicated, ultimately do only good? And perhaps, if he played his cards right, he would never have to sleep with the Joker.

The bastard part of his brain told him that this was bullshit. He happily ignored that part of his brain and stared at the Joker. The white of his wedding dress was almost paler than his skin, and the purple accents were entirely typical, yet also somehow… alluring. The dress was sleeveless, and Bruce spent five minutes trying to figure out what laws of physics allowed it to stay in place. Eventually he realized that Joker was wearing a corset that had to be crushing his ribs. Bruce wanted, for just a moment, to take it off of him. To loosen the vice that had to be uncomfortable, had to be unpleasant. To ease, to soothe. That thought, that want, scared him more than anything else that had happened today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things were going perfectly. Almost too perfectly. Surely it couldn't be this easy? Joker wasn't paranoid, but surely Batman had something up his gauntleted sleeve. He always did. Batman may have been one of the smartest people on the planet, but he was also about as observant as a brick wall. There was absolutely no way in hell that Batsy had realized his feelings that fast.

Oh god, this was a sacrifice play, wasn't it? Instead of actually confronting his feelings, he was rationalizing what he was doing. Well. That certainly would not do.

They had arrived at the venue, chosen specifically for its sentimentality. It was the Gotham Bank, specifically the rooftop. He glanced at the Bat, trying to gauge his reaction. He had become rather good at reading his expressions, even concealed as he was under the cowl.

Batman, no, Bruce, was speechless. For a moment, anyways.

“This-this was where we first met,” he said, softly, almost reverent. Joker felt something in his chest give way and shatter. Bruce liked it. He had done well. He smiled, a soft thing, so unlike his usual, mania-induced grin. He looked at Bruce, who was looking at him. This was the man he loved. This was the man he was going to give up villainy for. This was the man he was going to marry. He had never been so sure of anything. Goddamnit, he was in love with Bruce Wayne, the Bat of Gotham, and he was going to shout it from the rooftops. Literally. He offered his arm to his Bat.

"Shall we?"

Batman hesitated, only for a fraction of a second, but then he took Joker's arm, and up they went.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything was going absolutely perfectly. They were scaling the Gotham Bank, with him in Batsy’s arms. Thank god he didn’t mention the staircase that led up to the roof. Or, thank god that Batsy knew about the staircase and didn’t want to use it anyways. Either way, everything was working out absolutely fantastically. He rather liked being pressed close to Bruce, arms around that strong, bulky frame, so unlike his wiry one, and Harley’s voluptuous curves. Batman was solid. It was nice.

When they finally reached the roof, he found his surprise for Batsy waiting for them. All of their friends were there. His bridesmaids- Harley, her wife Ivy, and Selina- were stunning in their violet dresses. He had taken the liberty of, ah, not exactly kidnapping, but rather… violently persuading the various Batboys to act as the groomsmen. They looked murderous, which was not ideal, but he could work with it. At least he didn't have to gag them. And really, they could get out of their handcuffs easily. He had seen them all do it before; they were perfectly capable of escape. And yet they weren’t. He wondered why.

In the seats lining the aisle were Gotham’s finest criminals, all dressed in their Sunday best. Scarecrow’s burlap looked especially nice, and did the Penguin have a new suit tailored for the occasion? Even Bruce’s loyal butler, Alfred, was there, looking altogether quite calm for a senior citizen surrounded by dangerous supervillains.

“Batman!” Grayson called out, almost leaving from his spot as the best man. It was cute how he was still trying to hide his mentor's identity.

"Nightwing," Batman growled out, looking uncomfortable,

"What are you doing here?"

"I was going to ask the same about you," the Boy Wonder replied with a smirk that almost belied his unease.

“I’m doing what’s best for Gotham,” Bruce said, and what Joker wouldn’t give to see under that alluring cowl to see the expressions flit across his face.

“Doing what’s best for Gotham my ass,” Jason Todd, the infamous Red Hood said from where he was standing, “You two have been flirting with each other since day one. Y’all just need to bone.”

Batman spluttered for a moment, then said,

“Bone!? Bone!? How dare you- wait a minute, didn’t he kill you?” Bruce said, incredulous.

“Yeah, but I got better,” Todd said, looking much more nonchalant than he usually did. But, then again, this isn’t supposed to be an angsty story, is it?

Everyone decided to just go with it. Good.

“I, ah, hate to interrupt this lovely father-son moment here, but we do have a wedding to do, right darling?” Joker said. He was growing just the tiniest bit impatient. He wanted to be married, dammit!

Batsy, to his credit, had the manners to look abashed. Wow, he had now seen more expressions on Bruce’s face today than he had in all their time together thus far. Joker extended his arm to his love.

“Shall we?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fucking motherfucking fuck

Alarm bells were ringing in Bruce’s head. This wedding was happening right the fuck now! Jesus fucking hell. Holy shit. He must look like a total idiot right now, but he was allowed to be a bit concerned! Joker was waiting for him, arm outstretched. Bruce grabbed it, his brain on autopilot. Or, not on autopilot, the pilot was there, but said pilot was almost certainly having a panic attack and quite possibly going into cardiac arrest.

They were walking down the aisle.

They were at the altar.

The justice of the peace was there now, a bit more bruised than he had been the last time Bruce had seen him.

Everything was muted; he was swimming through noise and panic with the peace of a drowned man. All he could hear was a dull roar, that is until Dick slapped him on the shoulder. Suddenly, everything slipped back into focus.

“...Into this - these two persons present now come to be joined. If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together - let them speak now or forever hold their peace,” the justice said, his voice wavering only slightly. Damian looked to object, but was held back by Tim. Bruce was somehow grateful.

“And now, would you speak your vows?” the justice said, glancing nervously around.

“I shall,” Joker said, looking suddenly solemn.

“Batsy, from the moment I met you, on this very rooftop, I knew you were the one. No one but you had ever been able to bring out the best in me the way you have. Whether we were fighting or flirting, I always felt complete. And now I want to be complete with you, officially.”

That was- unexpected. Bruce honestly hadn’t thought the Joker was capable of feeling things, at least not things like- no, he refused to say it. Everyone was staring at him, why was that?

Oh. He had to speak his vows. What the hell was he going to do now? He had no idea what to say. He was Batman, he didn’t need words; a well placed glare was usually enough to portray his meaning no matter who he was speaking to. He cleared his throat.

“Joker,” he began, “I- I don’t really know what to say. This entire situation is completely ridiculous, but I mean what situation with you isn’t? I guess it’s just a part of your charm.” Oh fuck, did he really just call the Joker charming? He glanced over at his children and, yep, they had definitely caught that. Even Damian looked smug. Okay Bruce, deep breaths. You just have to get through this then this whole nightmare will be over. Well, said that little voice in his head, damn that voice, it really will have only just begun.

“Joker, while I admit the circumstances of this are not exactly typical, I really don’t think any kind of wedding with either of us could be. I almost hate to admit it, but you bring out the best in me, and I can only hope that in the future I can bring out the best in you,” he finished. That should be enough, right? He looked at Joker, and almost froze. The Joker was smiling, but not his normal, maniacal smile. It was soft, and hopeful, and it made something in Bruce’s chest crack open. Oh, fuck.

The justice of the peace, still looking terrified out of his wits, seemed to gather himself enough to say,

“You- you may now kiss the groom.”

Bruce didn’t even have time to panic.

#dc #dc comics #the joker #joker #batjokes #fic #bruce wayne #batfam

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fishfingersandjellybabies · 4 years

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To Think Your Soul Isn’t Already Magical - fic

Characters: Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne Summary: Dick’s heard too much lately about Damian selling his soul. He doesn’t like it, not one bit. A/N: Based off of Tom King’s characterization in his Batman run of Damian constantly threatening/actually selling his soul. I feel like that’d upset at least one person in the family. A hopeful future of no more Ric Grayson. Writing hasn’t been a priority lately so sorry it sucks.

He doesn’t know why he thought about it. Or, rather, why when he thought about it this time, the thought remained, lurking in his brain, picking at his heart.

Was it because of what Bruce has said so many times, about those visions he’s had? The future the world tells them is set in stone? Was it because of the constant attitude, or snarkiness? Was it that he so often pushed people away?

Or was it that moment in the desert, a few months prior? That conversation with Superman, where he exposed how smart he was, how slick and clever and downright conniving?

Or was it because their lives were hell? Because he adored him more than he could ever describe, or would do far more for him than he’d ever dare admit out loud?

It stuck in his mind this time, this thought. This possibility. And he found himself standing in the gate of the garden, watching his younger brother across the field, because of it.

Tim had said while he was gone, while he was Ric, Damian had brought it up again. Damian had actually done it this time, and Dick didn’t quite know why that hurt so much to think about.

“…Grayson?” Damian called, noticing him in the gateway. Titus, who was frolicking around him, jogged up to his side. Dick blinked and smiled at him, giving him a wave. “What are you doing here?”

“Wanted to see my kid brother.” Dick offered as he moved forward. “Is that a crime?”

“Depends on which brother.” Damian smirked, petting Titus’s head. “How’s Bludhaven?”

“Fine.” Dick hummed. “How’s Gotham?”

“As depressing as ever.” Damian sighed. “But Father actually went to a museum with me last weekend so…not too bad.”

“He gets a gold star.” Dick laughed, ruffling Damian’s hair. Damian laughed too, leaning down to kiss Titus’s head. Dick watched him a moment, felt his smile fading. “…Hey, Dames?”

Damian glanced up at him.

“Can we…talk?”

Damian’s own jovial mood dropped instantly. “Of course.” He nodded. “Something wrong?”

“Not…really.” Dick trailed off, leading Damian back to the short deck attached to the manor with a hand on his back. Damian quirked his eyebrow, but said nothing, calmly sitting in one of the deck chairs. Dick sat in the one next to him and sighed. Clasped his hands together and stared at the fist they made.

“Damian, I…” And he found he didn’t know how to start. “How much do you know about magic?”

Damian shrugged. “Enough for it to be useful.”

“…Enough to sell your soul?”

Damian thought for a moment, then shrugged again.

“You mentioned it to Clark, when we were looking for your parents.” Dick continued. “And I heard you claimed to have actually done it once, to get Klarion’s wand to defeat Gotham Girl.”

“So?”

“So you know what happens when you do that?” Dick pushed. Damian just stared at him. “You’re taken from us.”

“I’m…not seeing your point?” Damian tilted his head apologetically. “Or why you seem so distraught about it.”

“And that probably makes it worse.” Dick snorted bitterly. He stared at his hands again then looked up. “Damian, do you still not understand how much we don’t want that? We don’t want you taken away from us. Not ever.”

Damian remained silent.

“Damian, I love you. We love you. All of us. Yes, even Tim.” Dick added before Damian could make that joke. “And the idea that you would want to sell your soul to…to get to us, protect us, save us is…painful.”

Damian watched him for a moment. Then quietly, thoughtfully, honestly, he asked:

“Why?”

“Because losing you is the worst thing I can imagine.” Dick cried, almost hysterically. “God, Damian, you already died once protecting me. Do you think I could handle it again? And through something like selling your damn soul?”

Once again, Damian said nothing.

“And do you think your dad wants that either? Or Jason? Or Jon? That any of them would want you to sell your soul for them either? Lose you in the process of being saved? Lose you at all?” Dick whined.

Damian looked down, head bowed like he was in trouble. And Dick realized he was all but shouting at the kid.

“I just…Promise me, kiddo. Please.” Dick whispered, reaching out to take Damian’s hand. Damian looked up at him with childish eyes. “Promise me you won’t use dangerous magic for us. That you won’t sell your soul for any reason, or let some wizard or demon or whatever take you from us. No matter what.”

“Not even if it’d save your li-”

“No.” Dick squeezed Damian’s hand, harshly. “Matter. What.”

Damian furrowed his brows, seemingly confused.

Dick smiled sadly. “And I know you love us too, Damian, and that you’re a good person. The best person.” He reached his free hand up to hold Damian’s face. To force Damian to look him in the eye as he said, “But we are not worth you. Not me. Not Cass. Not Gotham. Not the planet. Not even Bruce. Not ever.”

Damian just stared at him with big, soulful eyes that he was far too young to have. Didn’t offer an opinion, or rebuke. No real emotion. Just stared.

“…Make sense?” Dick asked after a moment.

Now Damian frowned. “No.”

Dick snorted a laugh. “Do it for me anyway?”

Damian pursed his lips. “I’ll…consider it.” He sighed. Dick dropped his hand from his face, but kept his other hand wrapped tightly around Damian’s. “It just means now I have to find a new way to save your sorry asses when I need to.”

“As long as you stay alive and with us in the process, knock yourself out.” Dick grinned. “But can I take you out for ice cream before you fall into your new studies about saving the world?”

Damian smirked. “I suppose I can allow that.”

“Good. Because I probably would have just kidnapped you if you said no.” Dick laughed as he stood, tugging Damian up with the hand he refused to let go.

Damian didn’t try to pull away either.

They walked silently across the yard, Titus trotting behind them. When they reached Dick’s car, and Dick finally let go, Damian just looked up at him.

“It wasn’t…a kind of suicidal mission or anything. And I admit I never thought about what you would all want for me, or that you would…grieve me or anything.” Damian explained softly. “I just always thought my soul, objectively, wasn’t worth much. Not after all I’ve done. So if it was a payment a demon or magician was willing to accept, it was something I’d gladly give. A small price to pay for the world, or you.”

Dick just watched him. And when Damian finished, he just silently wrapped his arms around Damian’s back, holding him as tenderly as he could. Damian just leaned against him.

“Well I’ll be the first to tell you that a world without you is not one worth living in.” Dick whispered, squeezing Damian harder. “And I have a long list of people who agree. Want me to call each and every one of them?”

Damian scoffed. “I think I just want the ice cream I was offered.”

“Done.” Dick laughed. He uncoiled from their embrace and walked Damian to the passenger side of the car. “Ice cream first, then proclamations of unconditional love, you got it.”

“Perhaps we can swap that second option with a stop by a book store instead.” Damian mumbled as Dick opened the car door for him. As he plopped into the seat, Dick caught a glimpse of the embarrassed heat in his cheeks.

“I’ll consider it.” Dick offered. “But don’t hold your breath, kiddo.”

He closed the door to the sound of Damian’s long-suffering sigh, and smiled as he made his way to the driver’s seat.

#dick grayson #Damian Wayne

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

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what are your opinions on we are robin?

Massively complicated by the fact that DC's writers don't have an ACAB bone in their collective bodies.

Dunno how new to my blog you are and thus how familiar or not you are with my ACAB stance for Dick and my personal tendency to never acknowledge or interact with the specific idea of Dick as a cop...like there's more than enough material for me to work with without ever having to delve into that and I fundamentally believe being a cop is counter to everything I see as Dick's core premise and makes no sense given the specific origins and continuities I view as most 'him' -

But I WOULD have a lot of thoughts about how Dick would feel about this massive city-wide movement that he had no hand in creating and how he would inevitably feel personally responsible for every life to put on a facscimile of his family's costume AND the things they did in those costumes (such as the kid who was manipulated into killing someone while in that guise, per the Court of Owls' agenda).....

AND I would have a ton of thoughts about the fact that it was Alfred who secretly engineered this movement and how he of all people should know how Dick might feel about that, and thus how Dick WOULD feel about that information, but complicated and coupled with the fact that Alfred most certainly was motivated in part by his grief for Dick and seeing this as a kind of legacy, a way to honor his grandson, and able to justify to himself any transgressions towards Dick's feelings here with the idea that Dick wasn't alive TO be hurt by his actions here....

BUT the reason I avoid engaging with We Are Robin content beyond acknowledging it as Duke's origin story in the background of Duke content I write....

Is I absolutely can not - or more to the point - WILL NOT - attempt to justify Dick's decision to get all the kids arrested and locked up for their own safety while he went after the Court alone.

To be clear - I absolutely am of the opinion that Dick was and always will be right and justified in not wanting to see anyone get hurt in the colors and image of his family's legacy. That this has absolutely NOTHING to do with his impression of any such individual's competency, nor is it about trying to restrict their agency. That its wholly a PERSONAL thing for him, its a private instinct that is entirely reasonable and allowable, for him to have a kneejerk need to keep more people from dying or suffering in that specific mantle that he never intended to BE a legacy beyond just himself.

I headcanon that after Jason himself, nobody hated the memorial in the cave more than Dick, because the last image he had of his family was them lying dead on the ground of the circus ring, just broken bodies colored from high above in the classic Grayson colors and covered in blood. That THAT specifically is the image Dick so often saw in his nightmares in his early years in the Manor, that is the SPECIFIC visual Bruce so often comforted him about upon waking....and that it was a massive slap in the face and an indication of Bruce's most unfortunate tunnel-vision tendencies in his own grief, that it never even OCCURRED to Bruce that in memorializing Jason in the specific way he did, he was also subjecting Dick to a constant, ever present visual reminder of one of Dick's personal most traumatic images....the sight and idea of his family, now not just his parents but also his brother....reduced to just broken, bloody costumes he'd never get to see as anything but that again.

Not to mention then captioning this memorial with "a good soldier" and thus in the process of disrespecting Jason's true bond with Bruce, simply because Bruce couldn't handle that at the time and was trying to literally DISTANCE himself from that view of his loss, the loss of a son, of family....Bruce simultaneously disrespected Dick's legacy of his family and everything he'd created Robin to be, and envisioned Jason-as-Robin to be from the moment Dick gave Jason his own old costume and embraced him as the new Robin and by extension, HIS family as much as Bruce's.....like, no matter what Bruce intended for HIMSELF and his feelings about Jason's death with that caption, he literally reduced Dick's tribute to his parents and expression of brotherhood to his brother to.....nothing more than the uniform of a child soldier, a subordinate of the Batman in HIS personal crusade. Something that Jason never actually was, and Dick CERTAINLY had never created - or gave Jason his blessing as - Robin to be.

So on that front, I have no problem with Dick WANTING to keep all the Robins, every child who called themselves one, safe - and to take on the Court of Owls alone, by himself, because like it or not, that will ALWAYS be personal for him. That is about HIS family in a way that it will never be about the family, the heritage, of anyone else, even his adopted siblings. The Court were after HIM, specifically, and always were and always would be. I don't see anything hypocritical about Dick's desire to keep kids out of that fight when he himself would have never been okay with Bruce benching him as Robin in some random fight....because this fight is deeply personal for Dick in a way that's not transferable, and to be honest, I see his desire to keep anyone else from dying as a Robin, in a fight against the Court ESPECIALLY....I see it as an inherently selfish want of Dick's.

A selfishness that I think he's entirely justified in having. Its not about anyone but him. Its about HIM not having to deal with the burden of any more deaths in his family's colors, his family's name, when he in all likelihood originally created Robin in that particular guise because he figured he'd likely die as Robin at some point, and thus he'd never have to see anyone die in the image of his family's costume and colors ever again because the only person left TO die in them, at the time, was he himself.....thus kinda ensuring for Dick that when he did die, he'd go out just as his parents did, which in his youth at least was likely a weirdly kinda comforting idea for him.

So on the one hand, Dick's desire to keep the kids out of harm's way was ultimately a selfish - but justifiably so - desire to not see anyone else dead or injured in a literal WAR of CHILDREN being fought in his personal family colors and image....especially when 99% of them had literally no idea what the colors they were fighting in signified and meant for the mantle's original creator.

BUT.

BUT BUT BUT BUT BUT.

Where this all falls apart for me, and why I don't just go with this take and instead just kinda sidestep around the whole story itself and don't engage with it....

Is there's absolutely no way to 'fix' the story as is.....without coming up with an entirely different middle climax, in which Dick finds some way to sideline the kids without getting them all arrested.

Cuz see, what I'm NOT gonna ever do, is try and argue from an in story perspective, that Dick would ever be stupid enough, or try to justify, getting kids - many of them marginalized, and people of color specifically - arrested in the name of keeping them SAFE.

That's just stupid to the nth degree, and unilaterally the fault of DC's writers being oblivious to the real-world realities of police brutality and the interactions and dynamic people of color have with the actual police.

It was DC's fuck-up there, but I - especially as a white writer and fan - am not going to try and fix or transform that fuck up short of entirely rewriting the whole second half of We Are Robin's plot, which to be honest, I don't see as likely to ever be a priority for me as there's so much other content in Dick's narratives I'd rather get to first. Its just way too far down the list, the premise itself doesn't interest or engage me enough to make me WANT to invest in that particular story heavily enough to create a whole other direction for it, that navigates around the issue I have with it here.

So again, I mostly just....don't engage with it. Because I can't see Dick's stance on the issue of his family's legacy ever being other than what I always see it as, and thus see it as here, but I'm definitely never going to find it appropriate to write Dick trying to justify his decision to ENGINEER the police arresting all these kids for their PROTECTION....to a black character like Duke in specific.

Because its not. But again, this wasn't Dick's decision at the end of the day, because he's a fictional character who can only make the decisions he's written making. And thus it was the decision of writers who wrote these characters in situations that contained analogues to real world issues without keeping centered an awareness of how those issues intersect with people of different identities, particularly people of color and black people in specific.

So its not a decision that made me like, dislike Dick, because its one that I don't think he should have ever been written making, but its not a decision I care to justify in universe.

And that's about all I think I ever intend to - or even could - expand on that subject, I'm pretty sure. *Shrugs*

Oh wait, no, I lied!

Quick thought for white fans in particular....because I HAVE seen this subject tackled at least once or twice in fiction, from an ACAB standpoint that had Duke reaming out Dick for his decision here, for the same reasons I'm outlining above.....

This isn't an attempt to gatekeep or police anybody as like, I'm not actually ever trying to do that, I'd have to know every fic writer's personal identity and marginalizations TO do that, and I'm not pretending to know that or asking to, like, its just not on the menu for me so please don't get me wrong, this is purely aimed at a plea for white writers in particular to exercise personal accountability and good, sincere judgment in this regard:

No matter your personal feelings about Dick Grayson, the subject of Robin, or any of this in general, PLEASE keep in mind before utilizing Duke as a mouthpiece for giving Dick shit for this in the name of smearing the latter's character or making him look bad, like.....

Dick is of Romani descent. In the New 52 continuity as well as pre-Flashpoint. That's been made explicitly clear, and as such......there is no substitute in our current real world zeitgeist for the interactions the police have with black people, but please keep in mind that Romani people have a very, VERY long history of being subject to police brutality and persecution in a wide range of countries. Its a big part of why so many people are so uncomfortable with cop!Dick in the first place, and as such, it makes treating him as this naive, privileged white guy when having the realities of police brutality explained to him by another character, like.....not look exactly like you might intend there, because the reality is he's not SUPPOSED to be that character, but too few people at DC, and ESPECIALLY the people writing the We Are Robin stories, like, completely fail to ever extend the idea of Dick being Romani to any kind of examination of what kinds of lived experiences, perspective or perceptions this results in him having specifically.

And that's a failure on DC's part, but you don't need to go making it your failure as well, so for those of us who are white like, this really is something that should be kept centered before we decide to engage with story elements like the above one from We Are Robin, and like, if we do, then HOW we go about that specifically.

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 4 years

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we’re partners in this.

so titans 2.12 was mostly about (awkwardly) moving pieces around to get them in place for a grand finale. it was great! but also awkward. but great! let’s talk about it, if you don’t mind:

SPOILERS ahead.

1. i apologise for going off on a tangent right off the bat, but i just had this weird bit of insight about this show’s universe and it’s kind of hilarious. so you know those clickbaity articles about titans fucking up its worldbuilding by having its characters be so blase about protecting their superhero identities? (screenrant and cbr have inundated my newsfeed. oh good lord the pain. the agony.) maybe that’s just how It’s Meant To Be. batman and robin have been around for at least a decade and a half; the big bat’s likely been around for longer. the justice league is a sophisticated organisation with connections, representation and influence on worldly affairs. no doubt there has been countless battles and alien invasions--to the point where superheroes have become so ingrained in public life that their identities are semi-public knowledge but Nobody Gives A Shit. it’s like asking folks about their local legislators--people are aware that they exist and perform a Function in society and that a minimal amount of research would reveal who they are, but most aren’t keen on/interested in doing that. as a result, keeping up a secret identity isn’t the priority it used to be. and That’s Fine! the titans universe is its own beast with its own internal mechanics and as long as it’s internally consistent, let it deviate from its comic origins as much as it wants to.

oh typical emmram, i can hear you say. scrambling for explanations to excuse careless writing and plot holes. well, dear Strawman I Just Made Up, you may be partially right--there was a time when i would’ve waved my ‘the author is dead’ flag, but (i like to think) i’ve matured since then. but also: have you considered that plot holes aren’t really plot holes if you can successfully use what’s been established about a story’s universe to explain them away and that it’s significantly more fun?

with this background in mind, i can appreciate more than ever that titans plays out more like an intense, soapy family drama (with perhaps higher stakes than your average soap). this was never a show about a bunch of disparate heroes coming together and finding purpose in order to defeat a common enemy. this was always about a bunch of kids who grew up in a world where vigilantism and superheroing and magic and alien invasions are just an accepted part of life, and the deeply dysfunctional ways they keep coming together and pinballing away, over and over again. there’s no point where each of the characters have definitely Gotten Over Their Issues so they can all gather together to defeat the big bad; it’s why this late in the game we can have rachel looking for people to connect to and relate with that aren’t a series of adults who claim to protect her but only keep her in the dark; hank at the bottom of a self-destructive spiral; dick barely picking himself up from rock bottom, and kory falling apart at the seams.

so anyway, that’s it on this edition of Emmram Tries To Give A Grand Unifying Theory of Titans; let’s move on to the actual episode.

2. rose’s story could’ve been so good, you guys. actually you know what, scratch that (she types, on a computer while having 20+ years’ experience in knowing how to use the backspace key), it’s a great story that got muddled in the process of the show trying to tell a number of great stories all at once. this season has been inexorably building up to dick grayson becoming nightwing, using his unreliable narration to build up suspense as we see him battle personal hangups and the fallout from literal decades of trauma to gain a sense of equilibrium and a renewal of purpose (it can be argued that even now, on the cusp of actually putting on that dang costume, he hasn’t really learned anything--but i’ll get to that later). if this is the main story that this season is trying to tell, then taking two gigantic detours for episode-long flashbacks and building up to jericho’s death as much as they did makes perfect sense. it also makes sense to set slade up as a foil to dick, in that they are both caught up in their heads and make self-absorbed decisions to protect their ‘children’ but dick comes through with the realisation that that’s a crock of bullshit.

but that’s not the case, is it? there are so many things going on at once but they’re all orbiting around this throughline of ‘dick becoming nightwing’ and so we only get the barest glimpses of some relatively complex character motivations and development going on with the others.

2.25. in this episode’s flashback (we’re still getting flashbacks! in literally the penultimate episode of the season! god i have never wanted to take a red pen to anything more) we come to a number of weighty realisations: the extent of rose’s powers, her feelings of otherness, her desire to connect with her father so that she doesn’t feel alone in her otherness, how desperate she is to connect with him--so much so that she’s willing to throw away her entire life and undergo physical mutilation in service of his revenge plan--and how...learning exactly how her brother died and... being with jason??? made her change her mind??? ok that last one’s a bit muddled, but i’ll try and make sense of it.

as far as i can see, there are four big turning points in rose’s story so far:

a) that moment in the car when slade invites rose to join him and reveals that he’s basically been funding her ‘normal’ middle class life till that point. i can imagine how destabilising that realisation might be to rose, and why she might think going along with slade, no matter how weird and how abrupt, is how she’s going to live a life true to who she is

b) but imagine actually being taken in by the titans, being given shelter and support and succour by a group that her father had described as ruthless and manipulative. i can imagine her still being on board with slade’s plan, but maybe the reason she didn’t do all that she could’ve possibly done while at the tower to sabotage the titans might be because she’s actually interacting with these people, and while they might be a Hot Mess, they aren’t actively cruel or vindictive. i wish the show had woven in more scenes of rose interacting with the others, of her learning intimate things about their pasts, of her bonding with the younger titans’ struggle with their own ‘freakish’ natures. rose hardly seems to have any presence at all after her intro episode, and that’s a pity.

c) dick’s confession about what actually happened with slade and jericho. it’s more complicated than she was lead to believe--her father was actually complicit in her brother’s death. it’s a very confusing moment for rose, who’s already (probably) feeling the first stirrings of guilt, unsure, really, about her devotion to the father and brother that she’s known only for a little longer than the titans themselves, and slowly coming to the sick realisation that slade used her as a pawn in his game against the titans.

d) jason latching onto rose is understandable--he saw her as the only person making the effort to connect with him when he was feeling vulnerable and rejected by almost everybody else. jason practically bleeds a need for connection and acceptance. i don’t think rose anticipated that jason would come with her, or be as attached to her as he is--but she sees in him a sensitive and struggling soul baring his heart to her, and in herself the kind of deception and secrecy that she’d originally wanted to rebel against. so she finally comes clean with him, and thinks they should help the titans against her father.

i mean. i might be making some assumptions (actually i’m making a lot of assumptions, to be fair), but i’m just trying to work with what the show’s given us, which is... not insubstantial, but haphazard enough that it’s easy to forget that rose exists sometimes.

3. i fell asleep right after watching this episode for the first time, and apparently at some point before actually sleeping i appear to have had some kind of Great Insight about it because in the notes app on my phone i typed in “dick bruce concept of justice” with no further explanation.

i’ve spent the better part of this evening trying to retrace my train of thought, and i think it went like this: essentially, i was curious that dick was so broken up about jericho dying that he banished himself to a five year long lonely journey to seek penance that ended with him voluntarily getting himself arrested, but didn’t seem all that cut up about zucco dying or basically ordering the deaths of the scientists at the asylum in 1.07. betraying jericho and the older titans’ trust in him is a far greater burden on him than being responsible for the death of people who have wronged him or hurt the people he loves. but this is also a man who has internalised batman’s mission and ethos for the better part of his life, so he can’t actually come out and admit that. instead the two things come together to form one conclusion: he killed jericho, and he must be punished for it.

(i also imagine locking himself away in prison was a result of growing up under the influence of batman--who responded to trauma by embarking on rigorous, brutal, solitary journey of penance and extreme self-discipline. batman doesn’t ask for help. batman goes to the batcave and rides it out.)

so when dick finally breaks himself out of jail, it isn’t because he’s come to a great realisation about his self-destructive behaviour (although he’s aware of it on some subconscious level); it’s because he realised the thing he was punishing himself for didn’t actually happen. he hasn’t really learnt a lesson. to be fair, he would need some pretty intensive therapy to untangle the things running through his head, so it seems quite believable that this is the way he gets back on his feet in time to be nightwing.

4. i know people think that the conversation between rachel and kory was awkward, and uh, it kinda was a little bit, but it makes sense that they can talk like that to each other. rachel wants to protect dick but feels confident enough with kory to lash out at her; kory is unafraid to be vulnerable or sad around rachel which just feeds into the trust that rachel has in kory. i don’t know, i thought that conversation was a nice way to both re-establish this dynamic and give some insight into what kory’s feeling.

5. god, mercy graves--a family woman!--tenderly wiping the blood off gar’s chin after having turned him into her own personal killing machine is just... so unsettling on so many levels.

5.5. it continues to KILL me that gar had so much faith in the titans right up to the very moment he had his fucking skull opened up and his brains messed with against his will: an undeserving loyalty to a family who took his easygoing acceptance of their shitty treatment of him at face value and essentially threw him to the wolves. how do you even start recovering from this? i feel like we’ve gone past the point where a few heart-to-hearts could help.

6. man, hank spiralling the way he did was too brutal to be anything but deeply uncomfortable. i’m sure the teenager who bought hank’s suit from him was supposed to inspire hank and remind him of his place and purpose as a titan, but it came off as kind of a cruel joke. hank has been putting his body out on the firing line over and over and over again, and his lesson is to be told that he isn’t putting himself out there enough? yikes.

7. stu and lily and their collective disdain for dick grayson’s drama are my new favourite characters on the show and deserve their own damn spin-off. MAKE IT HAPPEN DC

#titans #titans spoilers #meta #rose wilson #dick grayson #koriand'r #jason todd #rachel roth #hank hall #garfield logan

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