#like that boy is only healed back by `batman would be disappointed` and `wait i dont want to be like by evil future version` | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miraculouspenta · 3 years

Text

Different Limits

Original Idea by @jinx-jade

Thanks to @moonlitceleste for beta reading :D

'What have I done,' Damian thought. Dick was lying on the floor with an arm that was clearly broken. He had surprised Damian with a hug from behind, triggering his instinct to attack. Damian had reacted by twisting his arm, resulting with Dick being on the floor. Jason entered the door when he heard Dick’s shriek of pain. "WHAT THE F*CK, DAMIAN!" he shouted when he saw Dick. His whole family had scolded him, Bruce had benched him for a whole two months, and Alfred had given him a disappointed stare.

Damian couldn't stand it. Not anymore.

He snapped.

He had tried, he really had.

But it was never enough.

As the heir to the Demon's Head, attacking at unknown touch has been burned into him. Touch had always meant danger. It was second nature to him now. Unfortunately, his family did not know nor do they understand. Two years of constant reminders that he had done terrible things. Two years of constant reminders that he was merely a killing machine. Two years of greater expectations, both in standard and amount. He had enough.

Damian said goodbye to his pets and ran.

After a good hour of running, he dropped into an alley and cried.

In his vulnerable state, he didn't see a man creep up. A man holding a gun. The unknown adult was planning to kidnap the boy, but as soon as his hands reached Damian, he reacted. He flipped the man over his shoulder like what he did to Dick earlier. But in his state, it didn't affect much. The man pulled out a knife and stabbed him in his side. It ended the fight.

The kidnapper ended up running away, leaving a heavily injured Damian to slowly watch the world as his vision turned black.

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

Marinette, who had just finished some business with Superman, decided to take a walk in Gotham before going home. Along the way, she spotted a boy covered in blood as she crossed an alleyway. He was already unconscious, and Marinette knew she couldn't just leave him there. So she opened a portal and went through it and carried the boy in her hands. She laid him down in her spare room and left to get her medical supplies.

Approximately six hours later, the boy woke up. His eyes scanned the room as he tried to up and leave. Limping, he tried to head to the window. "Hi sweetie, you need to calm down," Marinette’s soft voice said as she walked slowly to the boy., "You should be resting; moving might agitate your injuries." The boy just stared at her. Marinette stood up slowly and walked over. "May I?" she asked, reaching for his hand. When he nodded, she carefully took his hand and led him to the bed. Once there, she helped Damian into a comfortable position. "Do you have anyone you can call?" she questioned. When he didn't answer, she simply nodded her head and asked him what he would like to eat.

Damian ended up staying for three weeks because Marinette refused to let him leave until he was fully healed. The twelve year old grew closer to the woman. Once healed, he confessed that he has nowhere to stay. Marinette took the information in stride and told him he was more than welcome to stay with her. And stay he did.

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

Living with Marinette was incredible. Unlike his grandfather and his father, she didn't place any expectations on him. At one point, he slipped and called her mom. Damian had froze after he said that, scared of how she would react. It ended up with Marinette asking him whether or not he would mind her adopting him. Damian happily agreed and they soon got the paperwork done. (Chloe is conveniently Marinette’s lawyer). Damian wore the Dupain-Cheng name with pride. As Grand Guardian, Marinette took it upon herself to teach Damian magic. Starting with glamour, they covered the basics of magic.

Two weeks after the adoption, while reading the daily news, Damian came across an article on the front page.

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

The Daily Planet

BREAKING NEWS!!

Not more than six weeks ago, twelve year old Damian Wayne was reported missing. The only biological child of Bruce Wayne was suspected to have ran away for an unknown reason. He was last seen running to his room before he left. “Maybe I was a little too harsh,” Bruce Wayne admitted, “But this isn’t the first time I had to ground him because he wasn’t able to control his strength.” The young boy had somehow managed to flip Richard John Grayson, Bruce Wayne’s eldest, when he had surprised him with a hug. “Damian and I may not get along, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care,” Tim Drake, co-CEO of Wayne Enterprises said.

Damian Wayne is a tan boy with dark hair and striking green eyes. He weighs around 90 lbs at 4’9 ft tall. Currently, he is twelve years old. Multiple search parties have been launched. I myself know Damian personally from all the times he has visited my son. If you find the boy, please contact xx-xxx-xxx-xxx and we will get to you as soon as possible.

- Clark Kent

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

After reading, Damian had a breakdown. Marinette rushed in when she heard the sobs of her child. She didn’t say anything and instead she approached slowly wrapping him in her arms. She let him cry as she rubbed his back and once he calmed down, he told her his story and why he left.

“All these new expectations were just overwhelming,” he said, “‘No killing’, ‘justice not vengeance’—it’s like they were expecting me to turn back. I never wanted to hurt them, but it’s something that is a reflex now. It’s not easy to let go of a habit.” Marinette was silent throughout his whole rant. She knew how terrible Ra’s and Talia were but that didn’t make it better. She knew the Batman could be cold, but the fact that he didn’t listen and try to understand infuriated her.

“Ra’s and Talia should know not to mess with me, but if I ever see your father I can and will punch him,” she growled. Damian smiled as he nuzzled into his mother’s chest.

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

Three years passed. Damian and Marinette’s bond grew stronger while the search parties grew hopeless. The Justice League was also involved; so were the Titans and the Young Justice. They concluded that Damian was either dead or hiding really well. The former option was discarded when Zatara and Zatanna had almost managed to track him, but unfortunately the spell suddenly shattered when it was nearing.

Desperate, the batfamily decided to reach out to the Grand Guardian of the Miraculous. Imagine their surprise when they saw Damian on their way to her house. When they ran to him, Damian, now fifteen, went into an alley and disappeared. They rushed to Marinette’s house and knocked. They heard hard breathing and a gentle voice trying to calm the other party down. Leaning towards the door, Dick found that it was unlocked and tumbled in.

What they saw was Damian kneeling on the floor crying in the middle of a breakdown and Marinette trying to soothe him. “Out,” Marinette glared. The boys obeyed and waited anxiously. The person that they had been searching for was under the protection of the Guardian all this time. It made sense why even both Zatara and Zatanna couldn’t track him down.

An hour later, Marinette opened the door telling them to come in and wait. She took some water and placed them on her coffee table saying that Damian was taking a shower. As soon as she sat down the boys began to fire questions. They stopped after a good fifteen minutes and noticing that Marinette wasn’t saying anything. “I know why Damian ran away, yes, but it is not my place to say. I can ask him later, and I will not say anything without his permission. But I will say this,” Marinette said, voice colder than ice, “You f*cked up.” Marinette stood up to check on Damian. “By the way,” she stopped for a moment, “I adopted him three years ago.”

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

Damian ended up being the one to tell them everything. Everything from why he ran away to why he decided to stay. The Waynes felt bad; they hadn’t even bothered thinking about his perspective. Looking back, Jason and Bruce realized what Damian had said about the League was true. “I’m- We’re sorry Damian,” Dick apologized. “Are you willing to come back?”

“No,” he said. The Waynes were visibly saddened.

“But I am willing to start over.”

1445 words

I had tons of fun writing this fic, hope you guys like it

~Leen

@animegirlweeb @battybatbat @crystalangelluna @dorkus-minimus @galaxylightmoon @iglowinggemma28 @insane-fangirl-of-everything @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @karukofox21 @lunathealphafemale @megaafangirl @miraculouslydumb @myazael @nickristus-dreamer @our-preciousss @samiamack @sh31bin0 @user00000003 @waffleyunsure

#maribat #mominette

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rhub4rb · 4 years

Text

Warmth

Y’all remember this au? Well, guess what, now I’m using it for bio!dad Bruce month and no one can stop me--

Also warning I did not edit this so oop

@biodad-bruce-month

AO3

Day 1: Meeting for the first time

-_-_-_-

The last fight against Hawkmoth had been a blur. A success, sure, but a success that cost her everything. With the reveal of Hawkmoth being Gabriel Agreste, came the loss of Chat Noir, as he left Plagg and the ring behind, never telling Marinette his identity. She could only guess, though she doubted she was wrong.

At first, Marinette thought that was it, that it was the only loss that she would have to lose that day.

But then she got home.

There was an eery quiet to the bakery as she stepped inside. It wasn't unusual for Marinette's parents to vacate to their apartment during an attack, to get away from glass and whatnot, but they would usually be back in the bakery by now to help stragglers from the attack to a cup of hot cocoa and a croissant.

Worry filled in her gut, a sinking feeling inside of her, like an anchor dragging her down to the bottom of the ocean.

Slowly, she walked up the stairs, dread filling her up every step of the way until she was in front of the door. She stopped, holding her breath as she listened for any sound, any sound at all, coming from the apartment.

Silence.

She opened the door, slowly, the creaking sound squeezing her heart like a hand in her chest, and as she looked inside, finally opened her eyes and looked, she could do nothing but let out a heart-wrenching scream.

And the ending, the true ending, was just as much of a blur as what was the beginning. What she thought would have been the end.

There had been burglars that had used the chaos of the final battle against Hawkmoth, to break into the apartment to try and rob them. Her parents had just been unlucky to be home when it happened.

It became a mess of lawyers and child services after that, trying to figure out where Marinette should go, as she tried to hold herself together with the help of Gods and friends. Still, if there was one thing Marinette remembered clearly, it was the day she was told the truth about her father.

"I'm sure your mother was going to tell you at some point," the family lawyer said, in that voice that sounded like it was meant for a 7-year-old or a scared animal, rather than a teenage girl who risked her life to save the very city they were in, even if he didn't know it. "but... your father is not who you think he is. She wrote down, that if anything were to ever happen to her and Tom, that you were to live with your biological father. I'm sure this comes as a shock to you, so I understand if you need some time to think. We've already contacted him, and he has accepted the responsibility of taking care of you."

It was so much change in so little time, but Marinette supposed that was nothing new.

Bruce was at a loss. The last few days had been calm, as calm as they could be in Gotham. He knew something was wrong.

When he got the phone call, his heart had stopped. Sabine, a woman he actually truly cared about, even after their relationship ended abruptly, was gone.

She left him a daughter he didn't even know he had. And he accepted the responsibility of taking care of her, without a trace of doubt or hesitancy in sight.

Marinette, however, was arriving, and he had yet to actually break the news to his family. Heck, he had yet to actually meet the girl himself. Bruce ended up deciding against meeting her at the airport, though. He felt that it was for the best, if not to just keep his family occupied while Alfred got her.

Bruce could tell Tim was suspicious, had been, for the last couple of days, ever since the call. It made sense that Tim would be the first to notice, he had always been the most perceptive. He had yet to actually confront Bruce on the matter though, and that was perhaps for the best because despite having known for a couple of days now that Marinette would be arriving, he still had no idea how to tell his family.

His biggest concern was Damian. He had almost killed Tim over the position of Robin, Bruce didn't know how he would react to his position potentially being contested, though Bruce had no plans of turning Marinette into the next Robin.

Marinette was his blood, his family, and yes, Damian was too, but he was raised by assassins since he was born. Marinette was innocent, and Bruce wanted to protect that. He owed at least that much to Sabine, even if she never told Bruce about Marinette.

In a way, he could understand why Sabine never told him. Even though she never knew he was Batman, she did know he was Bruce Wayne, how he always had a target on his back. Marinette, if she had been with the Wayne name, would have a target just as big, just by association.

Now, Marinette would be leaving her little bubble of safety, of Paris, and come to a town, grittier than she would ever be prepared for.

Bruce supposed he could only do his best to make her feel welcome.

Gathering the boys into the dining room before Alfred arrived with Marinette, Bruce allowed himself to take a deep breath.

"I have something important to tell you, and I need you all to listen to me carefully," Bruce started, leveling a hard gaze at his sons. "A couple of days ago, I got a call, informing how someone very important to me passed away and that... she- left someone very dear to her for me to look after."

Bruce winced at his own wording and wondered for a moment how he had become so bad at telling his family things. Truthfully, he was never really good at it, to begin with.

"Wait, are you telling us you adopted another kid?" Jason asked incredulously, clearly not happy with the news, and by the look on his face, it seemed Damian agreed with the sentiment.

"I didn't adopt Marinette," Bruce said. "I am her father, biologically."

It was ghost-quiet now, as no one dared to utter a word, shock radiating off of them.

And then, there was a knock at the door to the dining room.

It was a lonely feeling, arriving into a new city, and be greeted by a butler rather than someone who was supposed to be her dad. Still, Marinette thought, at least Alfred seemed nice.

She stayed silent in the car ride to the manor, letting the sound of rain hitting the window lull her into a fake sense of calm and serenity, as she ignored the incoming storm and thunder. Perhaps she was overreacting, nerves and all, but she wondered what a man like Bruce Wayne expected his child to be like.

Would she be disappointing to him? Would she even matter? He already had a family, wasn't she disrupting his peaceful life? Should she even care?

Dejectedly, she let out a sigh. There was so much she didn't know, and this new city filled her with dread, just as suffocating as Paris. She could feel it, seeping from the ground, and infecting the people. Marinette wondered if this was what Paris would become now.

She was pulled out of her thoughts, however, as the sleek black car pulled to a stop, in front of what she could only describe as a victorian dream house, complete with gargoyles and all. She hardly even noticed Alfred opening the car door, umbrella in hand.

As Marinette walked up the steps, she could only truly wish that this would be a place that she could heal. To take a break from all of the responsibility and let herself mourn and grieve, and as Alfred opened the doors of the manor, she allowed herself to take a deep breath in, straighten her back, and lift her head.

She could hear a voice now, muffled behind doors and walls, and all at once fear gripped Marinette's heart like vines with thorns, cutting and never letting go. She tightened her hands into fists and forced herself to calm down, grabbing her emotions and curling them into a ball, throwing them deep into a far off corner in her mind.

The voice stopped talking, total silence filling the room for a moment, only to be interrupted as Alfred knocks on the door, just as calm and collected as he had been from the moment he picked her up from the airport.

He opened the door, and slowly Marinette walked, seeing four different guys, all of whom she supposed were now her brothers, until her eyes landed on Bruce, her dad. Her actual, biological dad.

Marinette's breath was shaky, but she hid her nerves well, something she was very proud of, as she felt the eyes of them all on her.

"Master Bruce," Alfred started, "may I have the honor to present to you your daughter, Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

Marinette's eyes scanned them, reading them in a way they would probably never get, before something finally clicked in her mind, allowing her to breathe, if only slightly. Marinette bowed respectfully to them, rising with a newfound calm centering her.

"It's nice to meet you all," she said, bluebell eyes just shy of calculating.

-_-_-_-

#bio!dad bruce wayne month 2020 #b!dbwm2020 #bio!dadbrucewaynemonth2020 #maribat #warmth au

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thirsty4theextraordinary · 4 years

Text

Everything Burns - Chapter 13

Pairing: Ledger Joker X OC

Warnings: Self-harm, cutting, blood, violence, explosions.

Word count: 4490

Chapter 13: Star-Crossed Lovers

She woke in her own apartment for the first time in a while and she stretched out in bed almost expecting to feel him next to her, but of course, he was not. She pulled herself out of bed and made her way into the living room, she switched on the TV while she made herself a smoothie before she sat in front of the news.

"Gotham's very own DA has called a press conference today to unmask Batman, we will go live to that conference in just under an hour." Scarlett almost choked on her drink as she watched, the Bat was going to show his true face. Without another sip she ran to get changed she put on her costume and makeup in record time.

She pushed on her motorcycle helmet as she let the cat out and locked the door behind her before dashing down the stairs to the parking garage, below the apartment block she lived in. She was up to 90 MPH through the streets in no time and arrived at the warehouse no less than 20 minutes later.

She jumped off the bike, and pulled her helmet off as she stormed through the door, The Joker looked up from whatever he was doing and grinned at her.

"Morning Jester," he called happily, grinning brightly at her.

"Dent's called a press conference to unmask the Bat," she exclaimed her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

"What?!" he yelled, with a mad laugh.

"They're gonna show it on the TV in the next ten minutes or so, I think," she said as she pulled the remote from one of the goons and began to flip through the channels, she felt Joker's presence come up behind her and she held in the shiver, that threatened to make her swoon at his closeness.

She stopped on the GCN channel and watched as the two new presenters made some kind of lame joke before they went serious and talked a little before the screen showed the inside of a conference building, and a little LIVE icon came up into the corner of the screen.

The stage was empty for a minute before they watched Harvey Dent make his way onto the stage. The Joker shooed a goon from a chair before sitting heavily in front of the tiny old TV. Jester turned up the volume, as she sat on the arm of his chair, and as if by instinct his arm encircled her waist with his hand coming to rest on her thigh.

The crowd on the TV went quiet and Harvey Dent began to speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming" he began and the Joker sat back in his chair a little more.

"I've called this press conference for two reasons. Firstly, to assure the citizens of Gotham that everything that can be done over the Joker killings is being done," said Dent.

The crowd on the television erupted into shouts and heckles.

"Jester, I'm famous," said Joker looking up at her with big eyes and she laughed loudly at him, he simply grinned.

"Secondly, because The Batman has offered to turn himself in." Dent continued. Joker began to jump up and down in his seat excitably.

"But first let's consider the situation. Should we give in to this terrorist's demands?" Dent continued.

"That's not very nice, he's just name-calling now," said Jester and the Joker cackled wildly. She made a mock sad face at him, her bottom lip sticking out.

"Do we really think he's gonna..." Dent said but was cut off as a reporter called out from the crowd but they couldn't see the source of the voice as the camera view stayed on Harvey.

"You'd rather protect an outlaw vigilante than the lives of citizens?" called the voice.

"The Batman is an outlaw. But that's not why we demand he turn himself in, we're doing it because we're scared. We've been happy to let Batman clean up our streets until now" began Dent again.

"Things are worse than ever" shouted a man in the audience and again Harvey stopped.

"Yes, they are. But the night is darkest just before the dawn. And I promise you, the dawn is coming." Dent said and the audience fell quiet, the Joker stopped his bouncing a grin still on his face.

"One day, the Batman will have to answer for the laws he's broken. But to us, not to this madman" said Dent and Jester felt the Joker shifted in his seat next to her. Muttering "No, I'm not" to himself quietly.

"No more dead cops!" shouted a voice on the TV and Jester turned her attention back to the box.

"He should turn himself in!" shouted another voice, a raucous of noise erupted from the rest of the crowd on the TV.

"So be it. Take the Batman into custody," said Dent and the crowd fell silent.

"I am the Batman," declared Dent.

"What!?" Jester exclaimed and The Joker began to hysterically laugh as they watched two cops handcuffed and led Harvey Dent away.

"I thought that may have been the case, the way he threw himself out the window after that girl," said the Joker laughing, his voice higher than ever.

"Right boys, change of plan, we are gonna kill Harvey Dent" shouted The Joker as he stood and began to ready the men and make plans. By the afternoon things were ready he was just waiting for the right moment to attack Dent.

Around 3, Jester had retired to Joker's room, having found his coat she curled up on the bed wrapping his coat around her as she breathed in his scent. She heard the door open but she did not look up her eyes closed as she held the fabric to her face.

"Jester, what are you doing?" he asked and Scarlett sat up.

"Worrying" she admitted holding the coat tighter in her grasp.

"About what?" He asked. She sat up and looked at him with big eyes before she sighed.

"I was just thinking about if something goes wrong, what if Harvey isn't the Bat. I'm just worried about you getting hurt or worse." She said quietly before she flopped back down onto the bed melodramatically.

"I'm not" he cackled and she rolled her eyes.

"And as for the bat not being Dent, I'm hoping so. Be kinda boring if it really is Dent." Said Joker, as he sat down on the side of the bed and looked down at her.

"I don't want you to get hurt," she said her voice slightly muffled as she held the coat to her face again.

"I'm not planning on it," he said and again she rolled her eyes. She rolled off the bed, leaving the coat there and went to leave. He caught her hand and pulled her round to face him, he pulled her slightly to sit on his lap and she complied.

Delicately she pushed his hair out of his face, and he closed his eyes in contentment. She kissed his lips sweetly before she pulled away.

"Just promise me you will look after yourself, at least try to," she said softly and he opened his eyes.

"I promise," he grunted and she grinned before she kissed him again. He pushed her off his lap like a piece of rubbish and left her in the room alone, taking his coat with him. She headed to the bathroom and caught her reflection in the mirror.

The scar on her eye was almost completely hidden under her grease paints. She was disappointed, she rather liked it. After all, he had given it to her. It was like a gift and a memento of their first night together. She reached a hand up, though it had not completely healed it no longer needed butterfly strips to hold it together. She spied the razor blade on the side of the sink and picked it up in her hand. The blade was cold and she twisted it in her grasp and it reflected the light onto the wall. She lifted it to the bottom of the scar on her eye and without much thought, she dragged the blade down her face. It sliced into her skin like butter and went deeper than she thought it would. The pain was rather refreshing but as the initial pain turned to a strong string she pulled the blade away. The air got to the wound and began to bleed. The blade had ripped parts of her skin so the cut was not entirely straight. It now reached from the bottom of her eyelid of her right eye to the middle of her right cheek. She pushed a tissue to the wound and held it there watching as the blood seeped into the white paper staining it red.

She spotted his reflection in the mirror, she had not even heard him return and she decided not to turn to him.

"Making an improvement?" his voice asked her sarcastically, his face gave away no emotion at all.

"Don't you like it?" she asked and he only shrugged.

"Why did you do it? To be like me?" he asked, a grimace coming to his face.

"Yes. No. I'm not sure really. I wanted to keep my scar from the other night as a memento of that night, and it was fading so I just thought I'd, I'd bring it back" she said weakly.

"Look at me," he demanded and she turned to him and removed the tissue from her face.

"I rather like it, It suits you, Jester," he said with a grin and she smiled madly. Most people expect this kind of reaction from their boyfriend to their new hairstyle, but to Jester in her twisted mind, this felt no different than a new haircut.

After that she reapplied her face paint, it stung greatly and stuck disgustingly into the wound. She headed downstairs with him, the clown pair split up and Jester headed over to the weapons beach. She began searching for a new knife for her boot.

"Jester I need you" he called a little while later as she was looking over some of the guns on the table and she came to him quickly.

"Come with me," he said as he led her into one of the back rooms of the warehouse. A fat thug sat on a metal table in the middle of an empty room. There was a tray of medical equipment and Scarlett looked to the Joker as he handed her a medical mask. She slipped it on and he grinned at her.

"Kilson, I've decided to do something about those voices in your head," said the Joker turning to the fat man on the table.

"I'm gonna go inside and replace them with bright lights, Like Christmas." said The Joker laughing wildly and Kilson grinned at him.

"Like Christmas," he repeated and The Joker simply laughed, before he lifted a heavy bat from beside him and hit Kilson hard over the head, knocking him out cold.

"So Nurse Jester, I need this," he said, pulling a device up to show her. It was some kind of bomb connected to a mobile phone. There were enough explosives to take down a house and she laughed through her medical mask.

"In this" he continued pointing to the unconscious fat man on the table.

"But I need him to survive long enough to get incarcerated with myself," said The Joker and Jester nodded. Though she didn't fully understand, she trusted the Joker to know what he was doing.

She moved over to Kilson and moved his shirt up, his fat belly wobbling as she did, she pulled on a pair of medical gloves that were left on the tray. The Joker moved round the opposite side of the table to watch. She picked up the scalpel and touched it to Kilson's skin, she had never operated on her own, but how hard could it be.

She dragged the scalpel along the skin and it instantly began to weep red. Her hand slipped slightly causing the cut to not be as straight as she would have liked, but she ignored it as she pulled the skin open. She picked up the device from the side and began to stuff the explosives into the skin of Kilson's abdomen. It made an odd squelching noise as she pushed hard and the explosive finally slipped into the cut she had made, she lay the rest of the device including the phone along the muscle wall. She looked up to the Joker for approval and he shot her a yellow grin.

She pulled the hook needle and thick surgical thread up and began to make X shape stitches along the cut pulling the skin tight around the device.

When she was done she stepped away and inspected her handy work before she pulled off her gloves and mask and threw them onto Kilson's still unconscious body.

"So can I know why that was needed now?" She asked and Joker cackled again.

"I'm gonna go after Harvey, but I'm gonna get caught either after or before I kill him, that bit I haven't decided yet. But once I'm in Gordon's fortress I'm gonna use chubbo here to break out and take Lau with me" said the Joker quickly and Jester nodded.

"Now if I don't kill Dent then that's when the fun starts. One of Gordon's men will pick him up to take him home, except they won't be Gordon's men they will be mine and Dent won't be going home. Neither will his girlfriend and that's where you come in, Jester. I need you to make sure Dent's girl is nice and comfortable in her new residence" he laughed wildly and Jester joined in.

Later he had a call come in that the cops were moving Dent to central holding and quickly the Joker moved the boys out. Leaving Jester with the last few men.

"Right we are playing a waiting game here, one half of you are going for Dent but that may be a way off yet as he's still in an armoured truck heading for central holding. But the boss is hopefully gonna stop that and hand him over to us or he's gonna get picked up by one of Maroni's cops." Jester began turning to the last 5 men that had stayed behind with her.

"So you three head over to where the boss told you to wait, and remember if the boss gets caught, stay out of the way. Then head straight over to Avenue X, at Cicero to await your delivery." Scarlett said splitting the group.

"You two come with me. We are going to Avenue X to check everything is good to go before we head to 250 52nd street to await our delivery" said Jester. Since the carving fiasco, the goons had followed her orders much more easily, and she seemed to have much more control over them.

They followed her out to the van, the goons adorned they masks, before they took off towards Avenue X.

When they arrived she helped check that all the barrels were set up and the phone was working before they jumped back in the van and hurried to 250 52nd street. They passed the fire engine that was a flame to lead the police down onto the lower street and away from air support.

She set up the place before she began her long wait, she sat listening to the police radio, waiting for some kind of sign and praying nothing would go wrong.

"Obstruction ahead, obstruction ahead!" called the police radio Jester sat up in her seat.

"Finally" she cried.

"All units divert down onto Lower Fifth, I repeat, exit down"

"It's really a shame this thing doesn't have a picture" Jester laughed to herself as she laid back down across the front seats to listen to the radio.

"Listen we need back up, we got company" called an anxious voice over the radio and Jester let out a laugh the Joker would have been proud of.

"This is better than the movies" she squealed as the goons gathered around the window of the van to listen.

There was radio silence for a long time after and Jester sat up and hit the radio as though it were playing up, she needed news she needed to know how things were going.

She picked up the long-range walkie talkie and pressed the talk button.

"Hey hey J, how's it going?" she called in cheerily and for a second there was nothing then his voice crackled over the air.

"Bit busy at the minute gorgeous, but we're having fun" she left him alone after that not wanting to distract him at all. But his voice crackled over the air again, not long after.

"Okay rack em up. Rack 'em up, rack 'em up, rack 'em up" she knew he was talking to the three she had sent off earlier to meet up with the helicopter, with his own man driving the swat van it was easy to put the cops where he needed them to be.

"On our way with the girl" called a new voice over the walkie-talkie and Jester sat up excitedly.

It was about 10 minutes after that the two goons turned up with an unconscious Rachel Dawes. The cops had picked her up and delivered her to the goons before they had headed over.

"Get her inside and connected before she wakes up," Jester said as she pocketed the walkie-talkie and headed inside. She supervised as they handcuffed Rachel to the chair before connecting her up to the barrels. Jester turned the phone on and activated the clock on the bomb to Midnight whether anyone was in the chair or not. As she went to leave, Rachel stirred.

Scarlett moved behind her so that Rachel could not see her and waited.

"Where am I?" Rachel stuttered.

"Why does that matter?" Asked Scarlett her voice slightly higher than usual.

"What do you want from me?" Rachel asked frantically, trying to turn her head to see Jester.

"Nothing, really. You are just a part of the game" Jester cackled and Rachel moaned slightly.

"What's gonna happen, what are you talking about, game?" Rachel cried her panic setting in.

"Well on the other end of that phone in front of you is someone you love, but here's the clincher only one of you will survive and we are going to let your friends decide who it will be" Jesters laugh echoed around the room. Rachel screamed in anger and she pulled at the cuffs that bound her to the chair.

"Let me go" she screamed.

"Now that would ruin the game, wouldn't it?" asked Jester laughing again before she left the room, the goons following behind as they locked the door to the room and left.

The 5 of them got back into their vehicles and headed off. Jester headed off in the van to Gotham Police station to wait for The Joker to break out, she kept the goons in the back of the van so they would not become wise to her plan.

She hid around the corner and she waited patiently for news.

"News just in the Jokers has been taken into custody and we go live now to John Pillion, who is at the scene with Gotham's DA Harvey Dent" Came the voice over the radio as Scarlett flipped through the radio stations. Jester cheered from the driver's seat.

"Mr Dent! How does it feel to the biggest hero in Gotham?" called the voice over the radio and Jester sat up a little in her chair.

"No, I'm no hero. Gotham's finest, they're the heroes." Dent's voice came over the airways.

"But you and your office have been working with the Batman all along." stated the presenter John.

"No, but I trusted him to do the right thing," said Dent

"Which was?" came John's voice.

"Saving my ass" replied Dent.

After that, they cut back to the regular news show and Jester jumped from the van. She had abandoned the van down a back road, explosives set to blow it up in 1 minute, to destroy any evidence and the goons in the back. She had told them to wait for her to return, before locking the van with them inside. As she arrived at the police station a few streets away she heard the explosion of the van and the car alarms from the shock wave.

She waited by the back of the station and she spotted the police cars pulling up and the cops dragging a nonchalant looking Joker inside. She wasn't sure how long she would be waiting so she made herself-comfortable, it was gonna be a long night. After a while, she found her way onto the roof and round herself a skylight she could spy through. Inside she could see Gordon's cage, the Joker was sat on his own on a bench only a few other men were in there with him and the rest of the goons were in a cage together. The Joker looked to be completely unfazed by his predicament as he sat, his hand clasped together, they had taken his coat and jacket. Jester was glad to see Kilson was still standing but he was holding his stomach. Though she could not hear what he was staying, she imaged he was moaning about the pain. She was surprised he hadn't passed out or had some kind of shock-induced seizure. She moved her position a little, not wanting to put too much weight on the glass of the skylight.

A little while later The Joker was moved out of the cage into another room to be interrogated. Giving up on her vantage point and not knowing when Kilson would blow she decided to move to a safer location. She couldn't find where the Joker was taken and so waited patiently in the alley behind the station. Something caught her eye and she looked up to see Batman jumping onto the roof she had just been on, before disappearing down the side. She prayed Jack would not be foolish, she did not want the Bat to hurt him too much. She knew Jack wouldn't mind and would most defiantly laugh but the idea of him getting hurt made her stomach churn.

Around 10 minutes later she watched as both the Bat and Gordon rushed out of the police department, and headed in opposite directions Bat in the direction of Dent and the cops to Rachel. She found this odd as Bats, clearly had a soft spot for Rachel so why would he go to Dent, unless he thought he was going to Rachel. She let out a loud Joker-like laugh, he had swapped the addresses.

She was blown off her feet a few minutes later as the entire MCU exploded, the windows being blown out, leaving the building in a smouldering mess. She scrambled to her feet as she rushed around, to the side door of the station. She shot the hinge with the gun she had taken from a goon and kicked in the door. She spotted Joker straight away and coughed loud enough for him to hear. He turned and looked at her with a skin splitting grin on his face.

"There's my Jester" he cooed, his hair looked a little dishevelled as he had been knocked down by the shockwave too, but otherwise he looked relatively undamaged.

She grinned as she began her search through the paperwork on the floor. She stepped over the bodies of injured and unconscious cops. She felt him touch her and she stopped in her tracks as his arms encircled her waist as he purred into her ear. She giggled as he pressed a kiss into her shoulder, some of the goons that had survived the explosion emerged slowly through the door covered in dust. The Joker moved away from her, his fingertips brushing along her softly as they parted and he began his search for Lau.

She pulled the files up on the computer they had made of the Joker and deleted them completely before she smashed up the computer. She made her way into the cells and heard the Joker moving around, she spotted him pick up some keys from the side before he walked over to a cell, Lau sat in the corner of the cell looking very timid.

"Hello there" cooed the Joker, his voice light as though telling a joke. He unlocked the cell door and still, Lau said nothing. The Joker motioned some of his goons over and told them to get Lau in a cop car. Lau didn't scream as much as Jester thought he would as the goons dragged him away. The Joker came up behind her as she was rifling through the police's confiscated stash, pocketing a few guns as she did. He had his coat and jacket in his hand as he looked over her shoulder. His other hand moved to touch the bare skin of her neck. She purred as his hand moved down her back until he was at her bum, he slapped her hard on the arse and she let out a little squeal. He growled at her as he pushed her into the table in front of her with his hips. He leant his head over her shoulder and bit her earlobe sharply, she let out a little giggle and again he growled. He ground his hips into her bum and she pushed back into him.

"Ready when you are boss" came a voice from the door, The Joker stepped away from her and she groaned at the sudden loss of contact. The Joker laughed a dark laugh and she turned to him.

"Come on gorgeous, let's go somewhere we can have a little fun," he said, raising his eyebrows to her and she blushed furiously and nodded like a moron.

They jumped into the back of the cop car that was waiting and it took off at speed. Two other cop cars followed. They rode under blue lights the whole way. She wondered if Gordon had worked it out by now or not. But surely when his officers woke from their little 'nap' they would call it in so it couldn't be long now.

The Joker hung out the window as they raced down the roads and something about his actions turned her on even more. Jester crossed her legs trying to relieve her growing arousal. She laughed when he finally pulled himself back in and he looked at her like she was crazy. She really was but who was he to judge.

--------

Thanks so much for reading, please reblog and like if you enjoyed.

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violetwolfraven · 4 years

Note

40 & Bluepulse please :) (wasn't sure whether to comment or ask so did both XD)

When in doubt, ask. I don’t really respond when people ask me for fics through comments, pretty much ever. That said enjoy!

Also I couldn’t figure out how to incorporate this into a conversation for the life of me so I hope that’s not too disappointing.

“I thank the oceans for giving me you. You saved me once and now I’ll save you, too. I won’t hesitate for you.”

...

Karaoke night with the Team was always... interesting, to say the least.

Most nights, it ended up being just a few of the girls singing, and Dick if he decided to come, and if Dick was there he always made Tim do something and then Tim dared Gar and so on until everyone had set aside their pride for at least one song.

Jaime had somehow managed to avoid ever doing a solo, sticking to group numbers. As a result, nobody really knew how his singing voice sounded, and Jaime was perfectly fine with that. It was always awkward if someone heard him singing.

And it wasn’t because he was bad at it, but because... well, if one more person asked him why he had never joined a choir, Jaime was going to eat his math textbook.

Well, maybe not the math textbook, cause he needed that, but nobody ever used the science one, so why did the school even need them?

Unfortunately, the fact that Jaime didn’t want to do a solo was not a factor in Bart begging him to.

“No,” Jaime said for the millionth time, “I’m not doing a solo.”

“Why?” Bart whined, “I’ve heard everyone in this room sing except you! You never do solos!”

Jaime’s stupid crush on his friend would not make him any more inclined to give in.

“Because I don’t want to.”

“Is it because you’re not a super good singer? Cause if so, Artemis isn’t, either, so I really don’t get why you’re being such a perfectionist and...”

Bart’s words sped up until Jaime couldn’t even understand a little bit of it.

“Bart,” Jaime said patiently, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder to stop him, “My BFF, mi hermano, the platonic love of my life, I can’t understand you when you talk like that, and I’m not singing a solo.”

“If you really loved me, you’d do it.”

Jaime laughed at the speedster’s grumbling, hiding his blush, “Nice try, buddy. Not doing it.”

Bart looked over at who was DJing and his eyes widened suddenly, “On second thought, maybe that’s a good thing.”

“Wait, what?”

“I know for a fact that you don’t have a song picked out, and you do not want to sing if Gar gets to pick the song. He will definitely pick the thing that will embarrass me the most.”

“Why would me singing something of Gar’s choice be embarrassing to you?”

“Cause Gar knows stuff,” Bart mumbled, not meeting Jaime’s eyes, “And he would definitely use it against me.”

Jaime was skeptical, “What does Garfield Logan know about you that I don’t?”

Maybe that was an odd question, but Jaime had once caught Bart sneaking through the Watchtower’s defense system, which was designed by Batman to kill any intruders, trying to steal Kaldur’s ice cream from the freezer without him knowing, even when Aqualad probably would have given him some if he asked. Besides some things about the future that Bart still couldn’t talk about, Jaime was under the impression that they had no secrets, except for Jaime’s massive, one-sided crush.

The lure of something that Gar knew about his best friend/crush which Jaime didn’t was a little too tempting.

“Wait, what are you doing? Wait, Jaime, I’m serious, you don’t want to—“

Jaime blocked Bart out as he headed up to Beast Boy at the front of the room.

“You’re singing a solo?!”

Well, that was weird. Gar kind of looked like Christmas had come early.

“What song? Can I pick? Can I please pick?”

“You can if you tell me what you’ve got on Bart that made him so scared about me coming up here.”

Gar laughed, exchanging a look with who Jaime could only assume was Bart over his shoulder.

“Oh, you’ve got a deal, Blue,” Gar laughed, “You know...this one?”

Jaime looked at the song he’d picked out. It wasn’t one he knew all the words for, but he did vaguely know the chorus and most of the tune.

“Yeah.”

“Great. Get on up there.”

Jaime tried to ignore his nerves as he stepped up on the stage and listened to the intro playing. The rest of the Team was halfheartedly watching, clearly not expecting too much as they continued their previous chats.

Well, everyone was going to know Jaime could sing, now.

“Kiss the tears right off your face. Won’t get scared, that’s the old, old, old me. I’ll be there, time and place. Lay it on me all you’re hold, hold, holding.

Time... time only heals if we work through it now. And I... promise we’ll figure this out.”

As Jaime kept singing, he was very conscious of everyone watching. He heard a few people make comments about how they hadn’t expected him to sing that well, which made sense because this was the only time Jaime had been caught dead singing by himself in public since middle school.

And Bart... Bart was staring at him with an insanely intense expression, and Jaime couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it meant, but he stared his friend down, managing a smile as he sang the chorus.

“I thank the oceans for giving me you. You saved me once and now I’ll save you, too. I won’t hesitate for you.”

When the song was over and the assembled friends started applauding, Jaime got off the stage as quick as he could, meeting a very shocked Bart next to the DJ stand.

“I...” Bart laughed awkwardly, “I didn’t know you could sing.”

“Yeah, there is a very good reason for that. I haven’t done a solo in front of people in years.”

“You’ve earned your information, Jaime!” Gar exclaimed, making both of them jump, “The thing I’ve got on Bart is—“

“Don’t!” Bart yelped.

“He has a crush on you! And quit panicking, Kid. He obviously likes you back.”

Well... that was unexpected.

#young justice #bluepulse #jaime reyes #bart allen #blue beetle #impulse #garfield logan #beast boy #song prompts

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gtgrandom · 5 years

Text

Where Young Justice: Outsiders went wrong

(And before you tell me to just stop watching if I don’t like it - I’ve been supporting the show since 2011 by creating a significant amount of content and giving back monetarily. I have every right to critique the writing, thank you).

Honestly, I think they pulled their act together in the finale, and this season left me much more satisfied than I anticipated. That being said, there are some issues I want to address.

Major flaws:

Overabundance of characters

Undeveloped Relationships

Lack of Continuity

Problematic Representation (getting better)

Weak Dialogue

Lower Quality Animation

The Message

Overabundance of characters

I think we can all agree on this one. There were far too many characters in season 2, but season 3 is laughable. It’s hardly a story anymore. Instead it’s an episodic series featuring new heroes each episode to appease niche comic fans.

There’s a formula for a superhero show (and any group-oriented tale in general), and that’s having a central team of five or less. Then you can introduce one or two new characters max per episode as side characters or villains. But you always circle back to your main team. YJ did a nice job of this in season one. So did most CW superhero shows before they made the same mistake of expanding their cast to make their writing task easier. (Yes, easier - new characters means you can stop developing old ones, especially with time jumps). YJ started to narrow down the team by the end of the season, but it still left many mains as side characters / aesthetics.

It’s great seeing these characters brought to life - I won’t deny it. But you can’t delve deep if you have this many. You can’t focus on character development or meaningful relationship development (hence why nearly every ship was established off screen). Furthermore, you frustrate fans when you focus on one group more than another. With a smaller cast you can always count on appealing to your audience because their "fave” is always present in some way. In many ways, fans feel like they’re being dragged along simply waiting for their character to pop up because of a one time cameo. It’s not fair to the audience.

The relationships

I think the only romantic relationships we’ve seen develop on screen are:

Violet/Brion

Spitfire

SuperMartian

Robin/Zatanna

sort of Roy/Jade

- and all but one were introduced in season 1.

The others were simply introduced as a couple with little to no previous interaction. Like:

Tim/Cassie

Dick/Babs

Jaime/Traci

Bart/Ed

Kaldur/Wyynde

Gardita

M’gann/La’gaan

Mal/Karen

That is not how you write romance. You don’t stick it in there for the sake of it. You have to show us why they work, how they got there, and why we should care. I’m not saying there HAS to be romance, but if there is, it still has to be written well.

Continuity

This begins to overlap into the next issue, which is continuity. I understand that Outsiders is not necessarily a new chapter to Young Justice, but if you are going to call it Young Justice Season 3, then I expect story lines to bleed over beyond just villainous deeds.

Let’s look at Dick Grayson, for instance. He’s one of the only mains who has had a very consistent, though shallow, character arc throughout the series. First he wants to lead, then fears it because of the sacrifices he would have to make - because he didn’t want to be Batman. In season 2 though, he becomes his worst nightmare. He risks the lives of his friends, lies to his team, and ends up losing his best friend anyway. And in season 3, we actually get a little bit of continuity here with Dick mourning Wally and being afraid to take on another team after season 2. It could have been expanded upon, but it was still present, and I applaud the writers for that. Especially for driving home his leadership qualities at the end there.

Now, what about the other characters, specifically those introduced in season 2? This season is called “Outsiders,” and yet, it seems to only focus on the original team and Violet’s new group.

What about Bart’s entire arc of coming back, stopping the apocalypse, and then losing Wally, his mentor? What about Jaime’s home life and the lasting effects of being turned into a villain who nearly killed all his friends? What about TIM and his role as the new leader?? Where did that plotline go?? Why is the unfamiliar Beast Boy now the leader of this Outsiders group? How did Ed overcome his anger issues and repair his relationship with his dad? How did Jade go from being a supportive wife and mother into the opposite?

The writers tried to avoid all these problems by giving us a time jump. But that’s just lazy writing if you don’t take the time to answer how things have changed!

Also, I’ve said this before, but continuity isn’t simply having characters mourn a dead character. You can’t keep using that plot device to give heart to the narrative. If that’s your only source of true pathos...and that character is dead...then you’ve got a problem.

The representation

Okay, I’ll admit they saved their asses with Kaldur. I love my wholesome pansexual rep. Would I have preferred to see his relationship occur with a character we’d already been introduced to outside the comics? Yes. But I’ll take it.

Disappointed with Ed/Bart and Bluepulse. They could have shown us more, but they didn’t. They could have given us a story, but they didn’t. And don’t hit me with “this is a children’s show - we’re lucky to get what we get” BS. Because it’s not anymore. This show is literally written by adults for adults.

I really don’t want to talk about the whole Halo/Harper kiss because it was just so wrong in so many ways, but it needs to be addressed. So, first of all, if you excuse cheating in any capacity, shame on you. I don’t care what the characters are going through or how old they are. You don’t both recognize that you have significant others and then proceed to make out!! Second, what the hell?? You’re going to have the first lgbt content be a bisexual stereotype of two girls cheating on their boyfriends (and two characters who have only interacted in one episode before??) Not to mention, underage drinking and gun use? That sends the wrong message to the audience, even if the teens were reprimanded.

Also, Halo is supposedly non-binary, and yet they explained it away by technology, so idk, I’m hesitant to count it as legitimate rep. I still think it was a good discussion to have. But yeah...

Finally, Halo is not Muslim rep after all. She’s a hijab wearing character, but she does not identify with her faith or her culture. She outright rejects it in her scene with Harper. So...what? Is she diversity points that you can continue to violently kill off over and over? Not a fantastic way to treat POC. I don’t think the creators meant any harm by it, but it’s something they need to consider going forward.

(I do appreciate the number of POC characters that have been introduced however. Especially the Latinx and black characters. This show has improved its diversity. But without proper characterization, they’re sort of just...there).

Dialogue

I can’t be the only one who cringed through entire episodes this season? Some episodes had stellar writing. But the bad ones were very, very bad. Obviously, not every joke is going to stick the landing, but if you’re going to kill off your beloved comic relief character, you have to have a better backup plan.

Like, do you guys remember how witty some of the lines from the pilot were? The whole “Speedy” vs. “Kid Flash” debate in the opening sequence? You can tell how much effort went into those scenes. How much love was given to those characters. Because they knew that was their only chance to hook the audience, to get a green light for a full season. So they put everything into character development and plot - and now they’ve lost so much of what made the show precious in the first place. (It’s still precious, but it’s tainted in many ways for me now).

Animation

It’s gone downhill. That’s really all I can say without being mean. Some episodes seem slightly better than others, but if you compare the animation from 3x01 to an episode like Failsafe...there’s just no comparison. I could hardly watch Wally’s scene without frowning at the frame rate.

Message

I don’t understand what the show is telling us anymore (or I didn’t, before Black Lightning gave a very “on the nose” speech about what it is that we were supposed to take away from this season).

I mean this has always been an issue with the show, but at least it was a little clearer in season 1. Then, we had several themes:

Found family (+ Actions speak louder than heritage)

Don’t call us sidekicks (AKA the kids can make a difference)

Secrets are poison (They can tear a team apart. Trust in friends)

Season 2 was a little convoluted...and sort of just recycled material.

Secrets are poison (dammit, Dick)

You are in charge of your own destiny (Jaime/Connor)

Sacrifice (Kaldur, Artemis, Wally, Bart...they all gave something up for the greater good).

But what is the message of season 3?

Secrets are still poison (Tara, Violet, Batman v. Wonder Woman team)

I suppose it’s about healing and letting others in? Like how Brion and Victor have both worked through their anger? Artemis and Jefferson and Dick and Gar sorting through their grief...somehow...off-screen...(except for the episode devoted to Artemis saying goodbye to Wally.)

Perhaps...accepting yourself? (Victor, Violet, Brion, Connor?)

Do you see my issue here? How much harder it is to see what I’m supposed to take away from the show now? I’m not saying there aren’t any good messages being told, but they’re difficult to interpret. Sometimes that can be good. But this time I’m on the fence.

Conclusion

I love many of the characters from this show, but the fandom acts as if the writing is impeccable, and that’s just not true. Not everything is bad. Some of it is still miles beyond other animated television (looking at you vld). And I genuinely enjoyed about half of the episodes this season. But I think it’s important to recognize the flaws in media, as a writer myself, and as a consumer of these shows.

Plz be civil in the comments, and understand that this is only my opinion.

#young justice outsiders #yj outsiders #yj review #yj spoilers #dick grayson #artemis #connor kent

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redhoodieone · 5 years

Text

Don’t Tell Me Part 5

A/N: Okay, so here is part 5. Sorry this chapter is kind of short, but I felt like I needed to show how Bruce really feels about the whole situation with Jason, Y/N, and Tim. Now the question is: can Jason ever redeem himself? How you enjoy some angst and a lot of feelings! Lol!

Warnings: Well, language and confessions, really. But the next chapter will not be this clean though.

Jason knew his world was over when he saw the video clip of Y/N, lying on the hospital bed passed out, injured horribly because of him. He was still feeling uneasy about watching the Joker eating those robin’s eggs just to prove his sick point, as well. Of all the ways Joker could have gotten to him, he just had to choose the way where Jason wants nothing more than to finally put the Joker down underground with his spine ripped out and his head full of lead.

The image in his mind made Jason feel almost helpful that he could find Y/N, and save her and their child. But he knew he had to remain focused. Oracle, Nightwing, and Robin were busy attempting to find Y/N, Tim, and the Joker on the Bat-computer, while Red Hood and Batman were on top of Ace Chemicals, just waiting for anything, any sign. The silence between them is worse than Bruce screaming at him, Jason believes. Jason couldn’t remember a time where Bruce was never disappointed in him. He couldn’t figure out which was worse: Bruce’s disappointment in him, or Bruce being at a loss for words. Jason suddenly wishes Bruce wasn’t there with him so he could rip apart every building and warehouse to find them himself. But no...Bruce believes in strategies, and to always be a hundred steps ahead of everyone and everything. Just like Tim Drake. “You’re disappointed in me.” Jason’s words slightly surprise Bruce, even if he doesn’t move a muscle or change his usual serious expression. Batman sighs and relaxes his tensed body. “Why would you think that?”

“Let’s see…you’ve been disappointed in me since the day you met me. Remember how you and Alfred would have ‘little’ meetings in the cave, when you both thought I was already asleep in my bed? Come on Bruce, I was a little shithead back then and I’m still one now. I’m not fucking stupid, and I know for a fact you both thought I was too angry and too stubborn to see when I was crossing the line when you and I would fight alongside as partners. Fuck Bruce…” Jason says, shaking his head at his past mistakes. If only Bruce could see how Jason feels. “I’m the biggest asshole in the world, and you know what? After everything I have done so far, I honestly think when I die again, well permanently die I should say, I’ll definitely go back to hell and stay there for…eternity, I guess. I’ll be assigned to work with the devil, or until I take over his job because let’s face it…I’ll never be able to redeem myself ever again.”

Bruce smirks beside him. Jason glances over with a questioning look. “Don’t you think you’re punishing yourself a little harsh right now?” he asks, seriously.

“You don’t get it, Bruce. I slept with Tim’s girlfriend. I fucked Y/N, and I got her pregnant. And to top it off…I…fucking love her. I’m in love with her, and-and I feel like it’s all my fault.”

“How would this entire problem be your fault?”

“Because I knew Tim loved her, and I still did what I did because I couldn’t help but give into my feelings,” Jason admits softly, before kicking an empty soda can off the edge. “Fuck feelings and fuck everything! If I didn’t feel anything, none of this would have happened!”

“Even if you didn’t have feelings, something bad would always happen. You can’t blame yourself for things happening, when they’re not in your control,” Bruce replies, as calmly as he can.

“Y/N changed me…and I wish she didn’t…” Jason confesses quietly. “I wish I was the same, selfish, asshole who only cared about himself and did things his way. Life seemed better and easier back then. Couldn’t life stay that way and-”

“But something tells me you don’t mean any of that,” Bruce interrupts. He faces his son, and he gives him the look that he’s done hearing guilt, pity, and complaints. “It’s okay to have feelings. Even if I…have my own set of issues with feelings, I’ve come to see feelings are what keeps people going. And I know Y/N changed you, I knew since the first time she became a part in our family. I saw the way you would light up by just seeing her or being close to her. It’s okay to feel that way because sometimes, life likes to give back to those who deserve to feel love and to be loved. Even when we do or don’t get to choose who we’re attached to, it’s always a pleasant feeling to know that you matter to them and they matter to you. And as for mistakes, you’re not the only one who has made terrible mistakes, Jason.”

Jason scoffs sarcastically. “As if you, the almighty Batman has fucked up once or twice in his life. You have practically lived your life as a good boy and a kind gentleman raised by Alfred.”

“No, no I never had a guilt-free or pure life, Jason. I…was an awful child after my parents died. I rebelled against Alfred many times. I partied at just fourteen-years-old, drank as much as I could, fucked many easy women who just wanted to fuck me because I was rich, and I wasted so much money on shit I never needed,” Bruce reveals, with a small smile. He must think back and laugh at his wild antics, because everyone who knows Bruce now wouldn’t believe any word he’s saying. “I actually lived up to the playboy reputation, which is something I still have to continue to protect my secrets and my family. I…have done some dirty, fucked up shit, Jason. I even tried to sleep with Lois Lane, just to get back at Superman for fucks sake. Hell, even I cheated on women, and I can’t believe I’m telling you this, but I have actually fucked half or…more women in the league, and do you know why? Because I can, and that power has stuck with me ever since. But let me tell you this, and please…please believe me when I say it. I know for a fact that you’re not the bad guy you make yourself out to be. I know you have never done anything awful or hurtful to women, and I respect you for that. I respect how you still care about Y/N, even when its clear sex wasn’t the only reason you stuck around. I know for a fact that Y/N means the world to you, and I admire that. While I can disagree and be angry with how she cheated on Tim, I have to confess that you loving someone other than yourself just shows how at the end of the day, you don’t disappoint me like you think you do.”

Jason exhales deeply and lowers his head down. He focuses on the passing cars, lit up signs and buildings, and the cloudy sky that shows it’s going to rain soon.

“But can’t you just agree with me when I say I can’t be a father? How can me, a fucking, angry zombie, be a father to a child who could or couldn’t be like me?” Jason breaks down. His voice breaks, and the tears fall. “If I can’t get my shit together, what makes you think I can raise someone better than me?”

Bruce, realizing Jason needs him more than ever, embraces him. Jason knew Bruce despised hugs while in his Batman costume, but the hug is what keeps Jason from breaking down anymore. “If anything, you’ll be the best father you can be, Jason. After everything that’s built you, destroyed you, and remade you to who you are, you’re destined to raise, protect, and love a child, and to love someone who loves you back. You’re going to be the best father you can be, because deep down, I believe all my sons, even Damian, want to be happy and have families. Believe me, Jason. After everything that’s happened to you, you deserve a happy ending more than anything,” Bruce discloses.

“Tim will never forgive me,” Jason whispers, the pain in his voice is clear to his father. He puts his helmet back on. “Now how am I supposed to live with myself knowing that?”

Bruce pats Jason’s shoulder. Jason tries to keep more tears in his eyes, so he won’t cry again. “You give yourself time. Tim gives you time. Time will heal you both and will make you better men.”

A gush of wind above them alerts them. Batman and Red Hood get into their fighting stances, until strong, heavy feet land before them. Red Hood looks up after he regains his focus, and sees Superman standing in front of them, with an angry scowl on his face.

“Martian Manhunter was found just outside of Gotham. He’s severely injured, and he has informed me that Joker and Scarecrow are working with Tim. They plan to keep Y/N there until she gives birth,” Superman notifies Batman.

“No…” Red Hood whispers. The fear, the rage, and determination to stop this is stronger than ever.

“Did he say where they’re located now?” Batman asks.

Superman nods his head. “You won’t believe me if I tell you, but they’re at Joker’s Playground,” he hesitates to admit.

“And why wouldn’t I believe that?” Batman asks.

“Because…they’re recreating the same mental and physical torture that Tim went through as Robin, and this time, it’s Y/N.”

“Tim was tortured for three weeks, so whatever damage that has happened Y/N can be cured, right?!” Red Hood demands at Batman.

Batman growls under his breath. While Superman and Red Hood wait for Batman to gather his thoughts together, he looks at them with dread in his eyes. “If Scarecrow’s involved with the Joker, then this situation has just worsened. If we don’t stop them now, we’ll lose Tim and Y/N…forever.”

#dc comics #jason todd x reader #tim drake x reader #batman #superman #jason todd

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xfirechickx · 6 years

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Arrow Rewrite

So I’ve (finally) caught up with the latest seasons of all the DCTV shows on Netflix, and to the utter surprise of no one, including myself, Arrow has definitely not gotten any better since the first two seasons, and the only good thing that’s come out of this train wreck of a show since killing off the Black Canary, is bringing Katie Cassidy back as the Black Siren. But still, to say that this show is a huge disappointment is a gross understatement, so much so, that the only reason I still watch is for Katie and for the annual crossovers. But, to actually make keeping up with the show tolerable, I had to pretty much mentally rewrite most of the show and headcanon the shit out of it, and make my way through with all the denial I can manage. So, this is how I like to pretend that the show actually went. And even though I doubt anyone will read this - this is more for my getting my thoughts down - bear in mind, this is super anti F*licity with all the nolicity feelings I have. Also, after reading a whole bunch of posts with the same feelings as me, this became a sort of mashed clusterfuck of ideas that came together from everywhere.

SO first of all, Laurel is a metahuman, you know, like she should have been. What the fuck was the idea behind not giving her actual powers? That’s just stupid. So yeah, either Laurel was in Central City when the particle accelerator exploded, or some other freak accident gave her the canary cry. I don’t care how it happened, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that Laurel is the team’s meta, and it caused her to want to don a mask even before Sara was killed.

Next, I’d like to think that she got the hang of street fighting a lot faster. Like, I appreciate that it took her awhile to be able to handle herself on the streets, but this “Oliver is the best fighter” mindset is absolute bullshit. Ik we’ve all been thinking of the Arrow as a bargain-bin Batman (and the horrendous bullet we dodged that was the mere suggestion that F*licity could ever be anything close to Oracle didn’t help), but I am so sick of Oliver’s fighting abilities being thought of as if he was the freaking Batman. Bullshit. I’ll admit, Oliver can fight and hold his own; he’d have to to be a vigilante facing down supervillains on a constant basis, that’s fine. But the Black Canary is one of the best fighters in the DC universe, and I will be damned if that was never acknowledged here.

So the way I see it, Laurel not only kept up with Oliver and Roy while on patrol, but after he came back from his new life in Ivy Town, Oliver comes to realize that she’s actually better than him. Like, I want them to be out on the field, and she’s literally outdoing him at every turn. And at first, he’s all, “Damn, I must be a bit rusty,” but it becomes clear after a couple more episodes, when he no longer has that excuse, that she’s actually running circles around him, whether it’s on patrol or while they’re sparring. In fact, I want an entire scene of them sparring in the bunker, and as distracted as everyone else is doing their own thing, everyone can clearly see that she’s holding back, and Oliver thinks that her head’s just not in it.

Oliver: Come on, I know you can do better than that!

Laurel: Nah, it’s okay. This is a good pace.

Oliver: Come on, you’ll never get better if you don’t give it your all. Let me have it!

And then she brutally knocks him on his ass.

“Lucky shot,” he grumbles as he gets up and gets ready for another round, and Laurel has a look on her face that’s almost annoyed, but honestly, she’s been waiting for forever to knock him down a peg. Diggle, Thea, and Roy are trying not to laugh in the background.

And speaking of Thea and Roy, holy shit, Roy doesn’t leave! Whoever came up with that idea needs a good smack. Team Arrow comes up with literally any other plan and Roy fucking stays! Thea, is instead given the mantle Artemis with her own outfit. Yeah, ik it still wouldn’t give us the Artemis Crock storyline, but it’s still better than the Evelyn Sharp bullshit that we ended up with. We currently have two tech geniuses on the team, what’s wrong with three archers? They could continue having their relationship ups and downs as subplots as the show goes on. I would even like that at some point, they decide to get their own place together, and Thea decides to sell her old apartment (you know, the one she was brutally stabbed in) to afford a nice one with Roy. And I would like F*licity try in vain to hide how much of an asshole she is by getting all indignant about it. Like, Thea offers to sell it to F*licity first, but she tries to spin it like, “You didn’t want it anymore, so I took it, so it’s mine now?” And everyone’s like, “What? No, that’s literally her apartment, which she bought with her father’s money? Idk how the hell it came to be thought of as yours anyway?” And she eventually has to break down and either buy it or move out because Thea and Roy have their hearts set on getting their own place.

As far as nolicity goes, I always thought that they would at some point have a brief relationship (a ship that I originally didn’t care for, but quickly became my ultimate notp) which would be doomed from the start due to having little to no romantic chemistry, and even though F*licity definitely had a strong sexual attraction to Oliver, she mostly seemed to view him as an older brother; or at least, Oliver viewed her as a slightly annoying younger sister.

But because of Guggenheim’s constant interference, the will-they-won’t-they crap just kept dragging on and on and on until holy fuck I have negative five care points to spend on these two assholes, just give me more BC! Their relationship has to be the most boring aspect of the show, something that’s definitely not helped by the fact that F*licity is an emotionally abusive and manipulative piece of shit Mary Sue. Seriously, for the amount of times that she’s been really vocal about how hypocritical and controlling she is, it just boggles the mind how few times anyone has called her out for it. I say few, because it has happened before, twice I believe, once by Oliver, who calmly insisted, “Enough,” and once by Ray Palmer after she threw his dead fiance in his face. Classy lady, isn’t she? But the farther this show goes on, the more she gets away with and the more infuriating it is that Oliver becomes the bad guy in her place. And holy shit the fact that literally everyone needs to assure Oliver - and the audience - that they are, in Guggenheim’s world, the perfect couple. I honestly can’t tell anymore if he actually believes this, and is just trying to shove his own weird obsession with EBR down everyone else’s throats, or if he’s just trying to get those of us who don’t like the ship to come to the dark side. Either way, I’m not buying any of this shit. SO, for every time that there’s a character to remind everyone how “good” Oliver and F*licity are together, take a shot, and then block out their words and then replace them with various observances and reassurances on Oliver’s behalf. I’d like to think that those closest to him, like Diggle, Laurel, and Thea were totally ready to call F*licity out on her shit whenever she started taking things out on Oliver, but he would subtly shake his head and calmly assure them later on that “F*licity’s right, I’m wrong. But no really guys, we’re totally happy together, I’d just appreciate it if you guys not confront her because she’s the queen of right on every subject ever and I’m just lucky to be with her.”

And the rest of Team Arrow just reluctantly agrees not to say anything unless Oliver is the one to bring up that he has a problem with her, but are totally ready to throw down at moment’s notice. Even people outside of Team Arrow notice it and tend to comment, with characters like Mick and Constantine on the crass side of the spectrum with phrases like “Does she occasionally let you take your balls out of her purse?” and more sensitive words from people like Barry and Sara, who actually try to get it through his head that, despite what F*licity says, not everything is his fault, and he does not deserve to be kicked around by her over situations that he had little to no control over (Samantha and William, anyone?)

And then there’s Damien Darhk. Hoo boy, my hate towards him killing Laurel burns with the fury of a thousand suns. There was literally no reason for it, you know, besides eliminating her as a threat to Nolicity. Except, she wasn’t even a threat?? It was pretty clear that Laurel and Oliver weren’t even considering a romantic relationship, and even I, as a hardcore GA/BC shipper, didn’t even want them to get back together at this point. Despite the unintentional victimization of Oliver, Laurel absolutely did not deserve any of his shit. So, as much as I wished that F*licity was the one who died, Laurel was still targeted by Darhk in order to get back at Lance, but she doesn’t just die and that’s it! She gets to be critically injured - getting intentionally stabbed by a former member of the League of Assassins tends to be pretty life-threatening - but she does get to heal while in the hospital and make it back out onto the field to continue as BC.

Hell, I’d even be okay with her actually dying that night if, and only if, they brought her back. For a universe based on superhero comic books, Guggenheim and company seemed to have totally forgotten (or just outright ignored) how often characters get brought back from the dead, at times in pretty nonsensical ways. But here, there was a way to conceivably bring her back; there were three in fact: In Arrow, the Lazarus pits would have been available; Flash could have brought her back with the introduction of Flashpoint, or you know, Sara, who happens to captain a fucking timeship could have brought her back, either by manipulating the timeline, or by pulling a Kingsmen II and had just shown up right after Darhk stabbed Laurel to revive her. I would’ve happily gone along with Team Arrow believing that Laurel was dead if the plot twist was that the Legends brought her aboard the Waverider so that Gideon could heal her.

Sidenote: ik that this would have never have happened simply because all of the Arrowverse shows have to check in with each other to some degree so that they’re all on the same page, but wouldn’t it have been absolutely fan-fucking-tastic if, after Arrow had confirmed that BC was for sure dead and wasn’t coming back, that Flash and LoT just totally undermined it. Like, if Laurel was brought back with either Flashpoint or the Waverider, and KC’s just hanging out on a different set while Arrow just tries its damnedest to discredit them?

Arrow: She’s dead.

Flash/LoT: Well she was, but she got better.

Arrow: She’s def not coming back.

Flash/LoT: Not until you learn to be nice to her anyway.

Arrow: She’s not the real Laurel. Our Laurel is D E A D

Flash/LoT: Nope, this is definitely her, and she’s going on cool adventures with us because SHE’S A DAMN GOOD CHARACTER AND YOU DICKBAGS NEVER DESERVED HER

All the while more of Arrow’s fans flock to every show except Arrow until the assholes in charge of the decision to kill Laurel finally have to (publicly) beg to have her back because literally no one will watch their shitty show anymore without BC, and then they’re forced to respect her character and give her a fair amount of screen time. That would just be poetic justice in my book.

So as season 5 kicks off, Oliver, Roy, AND Laurel take in and train the new recruits to join Team Arrow. I don’t have much to change about this season except that since Laurel isn’t dead, and as much as I like Juliana Harkavy, there’s literally no reason to bring in Dinah Drake. Also the shared hallucination in the Invasion! crossover partially rekindles the romance between Laurel and Oliver, which actually feels pretty heartfelt and like it could possibly lead to them getting back together for real.

And then F*licity ruins it because that’s what she does.

F*licity and Oliver get back together and things progress normally, with the rest of Team Arrow quietly building up a resentment towards the abusiveness of their relationship. I’d also like to think that since Curtis had progressed as a team member, that there’s a slight undertone of “what is she even here for anymore?” among them. Like, whenever she butts in with her hypocritical opinions, someone else will actually step in like, “Hey, you’ve had a long day, so why don’t you go ahead and go home. Don’t worry, Curtis knows what he’s doing, so we’ve got this. Yes, we’ll call you if we need something, but don’t worry. You’ve worked hard today! You deserve a break!” Meanwhile, the rest of the team is literally patching themselves back together with bandages and whatnot, blood and sweat everywhere, all giving each other The Look™ when she nods like, “Yeah, you’re right, I could use a hot meal and a shower. Plus, this tracking system is so simple an idiot could use it, just try not to fuck it up while I’m gone.” Still, no one says anything because Oliver is back to trying to make it work between them, and she occasionally helps William with his homework, so he can’t complain.

William btw, while appreciating the fact that F*licity brings intelligent conversation with her, has not forgotten how much of a bitch she was when trying to save him. Sure, he wasn’t present while all the shit-talking was going down, but there was no way that Samantha didn’t mention it at least in passing later on. “I’m amazed at how much Oliver has grown as a person. He was a real jackass when I knew him before, but he was genuinely worried about you and how we’d get you back. I just wish that the blonde chick he was working with wasn’t being such a pain about it. Like she had any right to any of our business, or any right to be a bitch about the rescue mission.” At this point, nolicity’s domestic life is pretty much out of some crappy fanfiction, and I will be damned if William doesn’t get to bring up F*licity’s pettiness at least once.

And since F*licity apparently feels threatened when Oliver’s past love life gets brought up, William tends to go to his Aunt Thea whenever he feels the need to talk about his mom without having to feel as if he’s the one bringing up a touchy subject. She’s also the one to get him out of the house whenever Nolicity gets especially nauseating at home, and he ends up growing a bond with the rest of Team Arrow in the process. While he still doesn’t want Oliver to be the Arrow anymore, he grows to respect the rest of the team, and ends up with all of their numbers in case he needs any of them to kidnap him for the day. He gets to spend some time in the bunker while they’re out on missions (with Diggle under the hood, of course). Funnily enough, after one mission without F*licity or Oliver, he asks Thea, “So what exactly do you need F*licity for anyway?” And Thea explains that she’s usually down in the bunker handling all the tech stuff while they’re all out in the field, but then he says, “Yeah, but Curtis was handling all that and working in the field??” And Thea and Roy exchange The Look™ again and change the subject.

Things finally come to a head during the Crisis on Earth-X crossover. Oliver, totally taken by the magic that is WestAllen still proposes during the rehearsal dinner, and F*licity, still very publicly says no. Classy. Naz*s invade and everything goes to shit, and Oliver and F*licity still try to make things about them while shit is literally falling apart around them, and to the people whose wedding actually got ruined for some reason. To her credit, Iris doesn’t outright tell F*licity that she’s being a self-obsessed drama queen at what is literally the worst possible time, but she does put out a few comments that both remind F*licity that it was in fact Iris’s day that was ruined, and gets her to shut the fuck up.

F*licity: Oh, wah! Oliver and I had a fight and then naz*s ruined any chance of makeup sex! Wah!

Iris: They literally ruined my wedding and abducted my groom.

F*licity: *internally* oh fuck I forgot about that

Meanwhile on Earth-X:

Oliver: Oh, wah! F*licity said she wouldn’t marry me after I proposed at your rehearsal dinner! Wah!

Barry: Yeah, what the fuck was that about anyway?

Oliver: Ikr? She wouldn’t say yes even after all the beautiful things that were said during the speech! If that doesn’t scream romance, idk what will!

Barry: I actually meant, why the fuck would you propose at the rehearsal when you can do it at literally any other time that isn’t supposed to be about Iris and I getting married?

Oliver: There was magic in the air!

Barry: *facepalm*

No, but the conversation between Barry and Oliver would go on to a touching, if not repetitive explanation about how Oliver was so taken, not just with Barry and Iris’s union, but the idea that Barry has been able to balance his life as a hero and his personal life. Oliver had once told him, “Guys like us don’t get the girl,” but Barry actually did it. And Oliver was envious, because his own life was one clusterfuck after another, with an on-again-off-again relationship that he’s only sort of making it work, and after the Dominator’s simulator, he realized how much he wanted his life as Oliver Queen to be fulfilling and filled with love, and how much he wants a partner in both halves of his life, like Barry and what he has with Iris. And throughout all this, Barry listens and quickly notices that throughout his whole explanation, Oliver never once uses F*licity’s name; he doesn’t even bring her up specifically. Barry probably means to point this out, but Oliver brushes him off thinking that he’s just going to tell him off some more, because that’s what he’s come to expect from having F*licity around all the time, and that’s what people who love you do, right?

It’s actually Snart’s doppelganger who points this out (after eavesdropping on their entire conversation) and suggests that maybe Oliver just hasn’t found the right person to be his partner the way he wants. “Just look at Barry and Iris, or me and Ray.” Oliver shrugs him off too, and just resigns himself to the loneliness of either being without F*licity, or being with her in all the wrong ways.

They get back to Earth-1, Supergirl is saved, yadda yadda yadda. I would like to change Stein’s death into him also making a miraculous recovery and leaving the show still intact. Just, using naz*s to kill off a Jewish character? REALLY?? Fuck all of that. Anyway, Barry and Iris still decide on an impromptu wedding right after *insert literally any event that doesn’t involve killing off Martin so disrespectfully* and Barry still brings Diggle to perform the ceremony, and Joe, Cecile and Wally are present because of course they fucking are. You could even argue for Cisco and Caitlin, but it doesn’t matter to me as much if they’re there. So Barry and Iris exchange vows, say their I do’s, and-

Fucking F*licity interrupts. Because of course she fucking does. “Would you marry us, too? Would you marry me?” A moment of silence and then everyone just explodes.

Barry: Seriously, though? After waiting my entire life for this, two more seconds is literally all I could have asked for

Wally: I’m a speedster, and I could have waited a couple more seconds

Iris: Really? Can I not just have one (1) wedding go uninterrupted?

Joe: In retrospect, we probably should have waited until these assholes left and done this at STAR Labs or something

And F*licity just gets overwhelmed because she’s literally never had so many people tell her she was wrong in her entire fucking life and Diggle tries to mediate (no matter how much he agrees with the rest of Team Flash).

Diggle: F*licity, you don’t even have a marriage license.

F*licity: Oh, no, it’s okay, John! We could just share the moment with Barry and Iris, and then go get a marriage license when we get back to Star City and have our own wedding there.

And then everyone explodes again because, seriously what the FUCK? “So I have to share my second interrupted wedding, and you’re just going home to have another one of your own?” And literally everyone is so fucking frustrated and angry, even more so because they all knew they should have been celebrating at that very moment but F*licity seems to think her awkwardness is still cute when it might just be the most infuriating thing ever. Finally she turns back to Oliver, who hasn’t said anything since she proposed like, “Hey?! A little help here?!” And Oliver is busy with finally seeing her without the rose-colored glasses and seeing her as the selfish and problematic person she is and it’s fucking glorious because he’s just so calm but everyone hears him when he just says, “No.”

F*licity: What? NO? What do you mean, NO?

Oliver: No, F*licity, as in, no, I’m not gonna help you ruin their second wedding, no I’m not going to defend you after fucking this up, and NO I won’t marry you. Not here and definitely not now.

Everyone else is pretty taken aback because up until now, no one’s ever told Queen Fefe off and they’re all doing an internal happy dance at how, for once, Oliver isn’t backing her up. Oliver and F*licity have a staring contest, F*licity waiting for him to back down, and Oliver holding his ground, until F*licity, finally realizing that she’s been unanimously outvoted, just storms off without saying anything, probably expecting Oliver to come running after her to apologize. But he doesn’t. He actually just quietly apologizes to Barry and Iris, and stays in his place as a groomsman (best man, my ass) and stands and waits for Cecile to take up her new place as matron of honor (how the fuck Fefe got that position is beyond me) all the while having this look on his face that says “It had to be done, but I’m gonna catch serious hell when I get home.” Diggle repeats himself in pronouncing Barry and Iris as husband and wife, they kiss, and the crossover ends with an UNBLOCKED shot of them two while their remaining wedding party claps it out.

I would keep everything in the gift scene in next episode of The Flash exactly the same except for Iris’s line is changed to, “Okay, not on the registry, but I guess trying to get married during our wedding wasn’t on the registry either. I’m not bitter.”

The whole wedding reception scene in Arrow is also completely done away with, and replaced with a long-awaited breakup scene, the one to end all breakup scenes (between nolicity anyway). Down in the bunker, it starts off with (what else?) F*licity trying to blame everything on Oliver. “Shit like this is why I didn’t wanna marry you. And then I put MYSELF out there and what do I get? Rejected, that’s what! I get rejected and humiliated in front of everyone!” And then she rambles on and throws in a couple references of the island and how he hasn’t changed since his frat boy days for good measure. Some guilt tripping and a few hypocritical statements later, and then she ends it. Or, at least, that’s what it’s supposed to be, but it really comes off as more of a threat to end it. Her closing statement sounds a lot like “You better straighten up because you’re damn lucky to have me.”

And Oliver just kind of silently stews until she finishes and he immediately jumps into how far he’d obviously come since his five years on the island, and how unfair it was for her to throw that in his face, and even worse how she tried so hard to justify butting her way into Barry and Iris’s special moment to further put herself in the spotlight. She tries to butt in a couple times (like she does) but gets immediately shut down because hell to the fucking no that was not okay. It ends with them trying to yell over each other, and F*licity yelling, “Well maybe I shouldn’t even be on this team anymore since you’ve made it pretty clear that you don’t need me!” right as the rest of the team walk in. They immediately try to backtrack, but F*licity, being her usual dramatic self yells, “No! No, you stay! I’ll go! He obviously doesn’t need me anyway!” and just leaves.

The rest of the team is just so shell shocked and embarrassed at having walked in at that exact moment (they’d all secretly been hoping to be there at that exact moment because that’d mean they’d officially have permission to drag F*licity the way she should have been several seasons ago) but the moment turned out to be more awkward than anyone could have hoped, so no one really knows what to do. “You alright, Hoss?” Oliver pretends that the past minute never happened and redirects everyone’s attention to the latest update on Cayden James. Meanwhile, Laurel, recognizing that Oliver is going to opt out of dealing with the problem, quietly excuses herself and leaves the bunker after F*licity. And Laurel finds her just outside the bunker, pacing because was she was actually expecting Oliver to run up after her after causing that big scene.

Laurel: That was some fight you guys just had.

F*licity: What, oh that? Nah, Oliver’s just being a jerk. Don’t worry about me, we’ll be-

Laurel: Where the hell do you get off talking to him like that?

F*licity: Wait, what?

Laurel then unleashes the mother of all lectures, bringing up every single problematic thing F*licity has ever said or done, which is pretty much anything and everything anyone has ever had to complain about the Mary Sue-ish nature of her character, every time she’s been an asshole, every time that she and the rest of the team has wanted nothing more than to tell her to shut the fuck up but how Oliver had asked them not to because of how much he wanted their shitty relationship to work, whether they were together or broken up at the time. F*licity tries to keep a stoic facial expression, but it’s pretty clear that she’s embarrassed and angry and incredibly surprised because damn, first Oliver and Team Flash, and now Laurel is calling her out on her shit and she was so far from expecting it. Laurel, to her credit, never even raises her voice, because she doesn’t want the rest of the team to hear and get involved, and she makes it clear that no one is kicking her off the team (if she wanted to leave, then that was her own prerogative) but she’s just so glad that she finally gets to unload everything she’d been holding back since Oliver and F*licity had gotten together and the bitch was not going to worm her way out of it this time. Her rant ends with the sentence, “Don’t think for even a second that you’re in the right about any of this,” and she turns on her heel and heads back down to the bunker while F*licity stays frozen where she stands, still trying to absorb that she’d just been told off, and how no one was going to apologize for it.

In the upcoming days, it seems like F*licity is gone for good; she hasn’t come back down to the bunker or contacted anyone on the team, and the team slowly adjusts to not having her around (and encouraging Oliver in that he did the right thing by breaking it off). Curtis pretty much takes over her role on the team (he’s the third smartest person in the DC universe, dammit! Why in the fuck has he been reduced to Fefe’s sidekick?!) and makes time to go out on patrol with the others and besides not having anyone back in the bunker, the team dynamic really doesn’t change. But just as things escalate with Cayden James, F*licity comes back; she shows up unannounced at the bunker after the team comes back from the field, and insists that she’s ready to resume her role as Overwatch. The rest of the team is pretty iffy considering all the drama that she’d left in her wake, but they agree to take her back because they’d probably need all the help they could get against Cayden. So the show goes on, with some tension still between Oliver and F*licity, but Laurel quickly shuts her up with a look every time it looks like she’s about to start some shit.

Team Arrow obtains the list of people on Diaz’s payroll, and after some celebrating on taking down the bad guy, F*licity announces that she was officially leaving the team. There’s a lot of confusion, since she made such a big deal about wanting to come back, but she explains how she only wanted to finish what she started with Cayden James, and now that the mission is over, she’s ready to go back to a normal life, like what she had originally planned when joining the team back in the first season. This scene is actually a bittersweet one; no matter any of our opinions on how badly this character was fucked up, she was a part of the original team, and her departure from it should be treated like the end of an era. She leaves, but not before assuring them that she would help out if they ever need it.

Idk what the future holds for the plot, but as far as GA/BC being endgame (because they were, dammit) I actually wouldn’t want it to happen in the next season. Now with F*licity gone, Oliver got bumped up from the second to the biggest asshole in the Arrowverse, and like I said before, Laurel absolutely does not deserve his shit. So I don’t want there to be any romantic relationship between them at all, for at least one whole season. Hell, I want them to date other people during this season. At this point, I’d just really like to see their friendship to become more solid. I want them both to come to terms with what happened between them in the past, and decide to extend their partnership. I want Oliver (and the rest of the team) to see Laurel as his equal, not as his potential love interest, and definitely not his sidekick. I want Oliver to start resembling his comic book counterpart at this point. I want him to more frequently crack jokes and become less like a Batman wannabe. It felt like that’s the Oliver we were supposed to get when this show started, after he’d had a chance to deal with some of his trauma.

The eighth season is when Oliver and Laurel start showing romantic interest in each other again. They maybe start flirting while on the field, and eventually they go out on dates without the masks. And at first it’s weird, because of all the history they share, and a running gag where every time they sit down, they’re immediately summoned on a mission (original, ik). But they not only find the time to be together, but they actually realize that the life actually works for them, because there are no more secrets between them anymore. I want them to start calling each other Pretty Bird and Robin Hood and pretty much all the fluffy (and probably smutty) scenes that it would take for their relationship to better resemble their comic book counterparts. And their chemistry is just as good as it was in the first season, when you could just look at Oliver and see just how in love he was with Laurel, only better now that they both share the vigilante lifestyle.

This all eventually leads to them getting married; it doesn’t matter if it happens in the eighth season or the ninth, but the proposal is similar to the 2010 Green Arrow short, where he proposes while in full costume after completing a mission together.

Their wedding could be the premise for the annual crossover, but I wouldn’t mind if it was purely an episode of Arrow. If it’s not a crossover, then I would at least like a brief cameo of Barry and Iris, probably calling or video chatting them before the wedding, wishing them luck because they sadly can’t make it due to having to deal with this season’s villain. But Sara has to be there, for sure; with or without the rest of her team, she needs to be present as the maid of honor.

And their wedding gets interrupted, because of course it does (probs by Orm leading the Atlanteans or some shit) so they break up the wedding party to suit up and join the fight. This is actually the first time we see F*licity since she left. They need her tech skills yet again because Curtis was either incapacitated during the fight, or he’s off on a trip somewhere with the hot police officer from this past season. Anyway, they’re at whatever office/genius bar she’s working at, hovering while she does her thing, and she’s rambling on as per usual until she says something like, “I expected to hear from you like everyday, tbh. I’m honestly surprised everything didn’t fall apart the moment I left.” And everyone just kinda rolls their eyes like, damn, what a bitch. And then she makes it more awkward when it comes out that Oliver and Laurel’s wedding was supposed to take place earlier that day, and it’s like, “Oh, so I guess you are willing to get married, just not to me!” And Oliver has to physically hold Laurel back from cussing her out because, “We need her, okay?”

The episode/crossover ends with the team (and William and F*licity because reasons) back in whatever location they’re using as the Arrow Cave at this point, everyone in full costume, patching up their injuries, and it overall looking like the shawarma scene from the first Avengers movie. And despite having just won the day, everyone’s still sorry that they couldn’t finish the wedding. So, just like how Barry and Iris should’ve had their second wedding in STAR Labs, they decide to hold their wedding in the Arrow Cave. So, everyone still tired and dirty from their recent fight, but it still makes for an interesting ceremony. But it’s mostly because I want Oliver to lift Laurel’s mask the way he would’ve lifted her veil. And not only do they actually have vows, they’re actually pretty fucking beautiful. Like, Oliver’s are about how he’s loved her for most of his life, but how this is the first time where he feels like he’s finally worthy of her, and how he sees her as an equal, and as his partner in both halves of his life. Laurel’s reflect on how they went from friends to lovers, to strained acquaintances, back to friends, to actual partners, and eventually back to lovers. And no matter how many times their paths lead away from each other, they were forever intertwined. And then Diggle pronounces them husband and wife and everyone cheers.

F*licity hangs back from the rest of the crowd that’s hugging and kissing and congratulating, because she really can’t stop herself from thinking “That should have been me,” but she manages to keep it (mostly) classy and only hints towards the thought twice in her rambling congratulations. In the end, she hugs the both of them, and makes her exit right after Oliver and Laurel stroll out to catch their plane to their honeymoon.

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eileentothestars · 6 years

Text

Today I am going to kind of review but mostly scream about Batman ‘66 Meets The Man From UNCLE because it makes me happy. Yes, I know this comic came out like two years ago but I don’t care and you can’t stop me, so either strap in or scroll past, kids. No knowledge of either show required. Spoilers ahead.

So ‘60s Batman is famous for being a camp fest, but The Man from UNCLE did that too; the 1965-66 season started to slide into light camp and even did the whole two-part-episode-separated-by-a-cliffhanger thing (”Alexander the Greater Affair,” Parts 1 & 2) several months before Batman debuted and made it legend. But it wasn’t a one-way relationship. When Batman proved a monster hit, MFU cranked the camp up several notches to try to siphon off some of their success.

In other words, this is a perfect choice for a crossover, even if the timing of this comic’s release (early 2016) makes me think they only did this in response to the 2015 MFU reboot movie.

So the comic revolves around a mysterious agent of THRUSH, the evil organization UNCLE frequently went up against, recruiting several Batman villains for some nefarious purpose, and you know what that means: STUPID DEATH TRAPS GALORE WHEEEE

Once again Illya is given reason to despair of heterosexuality.

The villainess there is Olga, Queen of the Cossacks. Her captives are, of course, Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin, the men from UNCLE. If you’ve never seen the show, that’s okay, the comic helpfully pilfers the opening sequence from the very early episodes to introduce them to you.

Olga takes a liking to Illya based on the fact that they were both played by actors who are clearly not Russian and lets him go... as long as he promises to kill Napoleon. Illya is very happy to go along and semi-pretends to smack Napoleon around a bit.

Well he wasn’t THAT happy about it. But what would either of these shows be without blatant innuendo?

Skipping ahead (do I even need to tell you they escape?), Batman and Robin have their own near brush with death at the hands of the Penguin, who admits he was working with THRUSH. Thankfully for the Caped Crusaders, their butler Alfred just happens to be an old friend of Waverly’s, and both sets of characters finally come together at a fancy-pants soiree at Wayne Manor.

1) I love the fact that Alfred and Waverly were army buddies

2) I need to talk about the art for a second. It’s mostly pretty good, but then you get weirdness like the above.

For the uninitiated, Alfred was played in the ‘60s show by Alan Napier, who was 6′9″ to Adam West’s (Batman’s) 6′2″. And yet somehow here he’s the same height as Waverly, who was played by Leo G. Carroll. IMDb says Carroll was 5′10″, which I suspect is an exaggeration, but regardless, Alfred should be TOWERING here.

Now this panel seems a little more accurate in terms of the height differences. (Robert Vaughn was apparently about 5′8″, making him Burt Ward/Robin’s height, but again, this is from IMDb which is a lying liar so idk anymore). Clearly the artist knew what the actors were supposed to look like, so I really don’t know wtf was up with Alfred there.

Speaking of weird artistic choices, there are some artist’s notes included in the back of the book as a bonus feature.

“handsome but generic” lol ouch

asldfhalsdjflasldflaks;dl

Um pardon me but what universe is this artist living in that he thinks that sweater is “frumpy?” Lana Turner could walk into a malt shop and get discovered in that sweater.

ANYWAY back on track.

THRUSH’s Bat-recruits crash the fancy-pants soiree to steal a science doohickey. Said recruits include some relatively minor villains from the ‘60s series, like Siren, Egghead, Sandman and Mister Freeze, as well as characters who never got a chance to appear on the show, like Scarecrow and Poison Ivy. Ivy has a southern accent for some reason, but it works, so I’m not complaining.

The attack leads to this fantastic panel.

So now our heroes have to figure out where the bad guys took the science doohickey and what their ultimate plan is. The Bat-clan and the UNCLE agents hold a video conference to compare notes, which Robin is super hyped about because VIDEO CONFERENCE IN THE ‘60S YOU GUYS

Wow wait what the sh--

Never let Napoleon run a Skype chat

So UNCLE has discovered the bad guys’ hideout is off the coast of Monaco, with the help of a random lady named Blanche (she of frumpy sweater fame). See, part of MFU’s shtick was that some innocent bystander--usually a woman--would get dragged into the mission du jour and help our heroes resolve it. That element really gets shoved to the sidelines in this comic, and that’s fair enough. We already have a lot of main characters running around. Blanche only shows up for like three pages, but it’s long enough for Bats to give his unsolicited opinion.

Surprisingly, Waverly’s response is not “Yeah well you bring an underage boy in hot pants on your missions so stfu.”

So off to Monaco we go--and yes, an ersatz Princess Grace does show up, thanks for asking--only for everyone to get captured and dragged to an undersea base. There we finally discover our main villain: Doctor Strange (not that one... though now I want that crossover too), a THRUSH agent who got into Arkham Asylum as a psychologist in order to determine which villains would serve THRUSH best.

I mean she’s not wrong.

Basically Hugo Strange’s plan is to slowly brainwash all of our heroes into becoming his pawns so they’ll help him achieve world domination. His brainwashing methods look suspiciously like the Bohemian Rhapsody music video, anachronisms be hanged.

NEVER LET ME GO (LET ME GOOOOOOOOOOO)

FOR MEEEEEEEEEEE *vigorous headbanging*

Okay this post is already way too long so let’s wrap up. Our heroes manipulate the Bat-villains a bit, pointing out that Strange only sees them as subordinates, which hurts their egos enough that they’re willing to team up with both dynamic duos to defeat Strange.

Side note: Batgirl is in this comic and she is amazing.

Look at her kicking the heads off Ivy’s plant men like a BOSS

A hundred feet under the ocean and outnumbered seven to one and she’s still ready to throw down. THAT’S MY GIRL

And you can probably guess the rest of the story: heroes triumphant, villains defeated, and there is also a giant octopus involved. So if you were disappointed in the ‘66 Batman movie where Penguin mentions having a trained octopus but never shows it to us, I hope this will heal the octopus-shaped hole in your heart.

So anyway, that’s the comic. I skipped over a whole lot of cool stuff so please buy it and also both of these shows and also the Batman ‘66 comic in general. One day I may do a post about Batman ‘66 Meets The Green Hornet too because it is actually EVEN BETTER

#dc #batman #the man from uncle #i may have gone a little overboard on this #i just love batman '66 and mfu okay #batman '66

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crookedspoonfic · 7 years

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Fingers to the head, 2.I (Arkham Knight: Harley+Jason, T)

Title: Fingers to the head, pointed like a gun: chapter 2, part I Fandom: Batman: Arkham Knight Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Characters/Pairings: Harley Quinn & Jason Todd, Thugs Word count: ~1.2k A/N: I’m sorry. I’d meant to post the entire second chapter of Fingers to the head today, but I was busy and got sick during the last week of September (not to mention that I got completely sidetracked by a new fandom vortex and a gazillion new ideas). However, so as not to let you go completely without a new chapter on this day, I’m presenting you with the first part of it. I sincerely hope I can whip up something in the remaining days of October, even though I’ll probably be distracted by all the kinky ideas I have for Kinktober.

Nevertheless, I’ll try. In the meantime, I hope there’ll be at least someone who can enjoy this first part!

The liquid is a poisonous green, almost glowing as if radioactive, the kind of color Mr. J would have approved of, even sought out in a concoction of his own making.

Could this be a sign? If it is, this vial of toxic waste inspires more confidence in its promised effect than it should. Harley grips it tighter, holding it against her chest, as if to pour into it all the senseless, screaming hopes she clutches in her broken heart, willing this to work.

"That does so not look healthy," a goon comments.

Harley ignores him; she has no time to spare. Her boy doesn't look healthy either.

Before her, Jason is wan and trembling despite the many layers he's wrapped in. The bullet had shredded into him and dented his armor so that it curved into the wound, ripping it open. It's a miracle he's still alive. She'd managed to extract the shell fragments but couldn't do anything about the blood loss. The hospitals are overrun and their blood banks are draining fast. She's sent her thugs to fetch some bags without causing any more bloodshed, but her boy has already bled through anything compatible. Last time she checked, his wound was infected and the skin around it discolored. He is bleeding internally and she has no way to stop it.

There really ain't much to think about. She'd exhausted any other option. This vial of what looks like cartoonishly contaminated reactor water is her only shot. (Under different circumstances, she would have patted herself on the back for the unintended pun. In this situation, however, her only course of action was just that: to act.)

She drains the liquid into his bloodstream and prays. How many more miracles would she be granted? She doesn't deserve any more, yet her boy does. He must survive this. He must.

She dares not breathe in the moments to follow, afraid she'll miss any sign of improvement. She might disturb the universe at work if she moved. Irrationally, she's disappointed when there are none after several heartbeats, even though she knows these things take time. But with a miracle cure like this, she's been promised immediate return to health.

So far, nothing.

If this were Grey's Anatomy or some other TV show, she'd expect a heart monitor to beep dramatically and doctors to come rushing in, a bustle of activity to save her boy's life. But she doesn't have the luxury of medical equipment to announce a flatline, and even if she had, she wouldn't believe it anyway.

All she can do now is wait.

It's excruciating.

Just as her body is growing tired from the high tension it's been under, he spasms and sits bolt upright, his eyes wide and eerily phosphorescent.

Her guys seem to sense danger, because they rush to pull her away from him. Bad decision. Her boy catches sight of the movement and jumps at them like a feral cat, all claws and rapid action. By any normal standard of recuperation, he shouldn't be able to tear through them like that, twisting out of grips, leaping over heads and punching with his whole body. Part of her imagines his stitches to popping from the strain and his wound to be spraying blood.

But mostly, she's overjoyed to see him up and running. Even if he's running her guys to the ground.

It takes four of them to subdue him. They're lucky her boy is still weak, lucky that he seems to be out of his mind, because otherwise he wouldn't be just reacting, he'd be calculating his moves and then they'd have no chance in hell against him. Yet there's so much unconscious anger rolling off of him, it's a surprise they can pin him down at all.

It's kind of a repetition of their first encounter, with Jason beating up her thugs and Harley screaming at them to just let him go. She's struggling against them, even as she's giddy that he seems to have survived the dose of what looked like something that would surely kill him. But he's nowhere near over the worst of it, and she needs to check on him, needs to make sure that now he has a chance, needs to make sure they haven't blown it already by taking him down.

She rips herself free with the strength of a lioness protecting her cub, and shoves her goons out of the way.

"What are you doing?" she shouts at them. "Get away from him."

There's a dart sticking out of her boy's neck and he's slowly succumbing to the tranquilizer that was no doubt in it. At least, she hopes so, for their sakes.

"Who did this?"

No one answers. Smart. If he doesn't make it because whatever they administered doesn't agree with that supposed cure, none of them will leave this building alive.

She's had it with false hopes and losing her loved ones. Can't she catch a break already?

With trembling hands, she strokes his cheeks, assures him that it's going to be okay, that she'll be waiting for him to wake up.

His eyes roll back and close, and his body softens as if he's heard her and can relax now that he knows it's fine, she'll be there.

She needs another moment to catch her breath and gather herself before she rolls up the hem of his plain shirt, something she'd provided him with after taking off his battered armor. It's spotty with red where he'd bled through his bandages. He's been going through a lot of those; she barely did anything other than exchange them for new ones.

Now, as she takes them off again, she's prepared to see fresh blood flowing her way. Or at least start to ooze as soon as she lifts the compression. But there's nothing. Not a single fresh drop. All she sees is dried blood on closed skin where an ugly, discolored wound should be.

His thigh is the same: closed up, hole-less, healed.

She can't believe it. She'd been promised immediate results, but this went beyond what she could have imagined. And Harley can imagine a lot.

She leans over him, hand bracing on his chest and ear hovering above his mouth. His heartbeat is strong and calm, his breath steady and relaxed.

Tears sting her eyes.

"He's safe," she whispers. Her boy is safe.

They did it. She barely dared hope, but they really did.

She can't help herself. She's brimming with joy and jumps into the air, jumps into the arms of the nearest thug. He's a tall one and built, but she twirls him around like he was nothing more than a paper doll. The pained groans of his peers serve to time the music in her head.

Some stop tending broken bones to watch her, and some manage laughter and jeers when she pulls him down to plant a loud kiss on his bandanna-covered lips. His painted face cycles through a series of expressions, all of them rendered hilarious by his clownish greasepaint.

He curses and rips off his bandanna, as if hoping she'd kiss him again, this time without cloth getting in his way, but she's already tending to her boy again, wrapping him in blankets he might need now that he's no longer moving.

She can't wait for him to wake again. But he'll need his rest, and that's what she'll give him.

#batman: arkham knight #fanfiction #snippets #harley quinn #jason todd #a fool's legacy #rating: t #wips #tumblr-exclusive preview

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acapelladitty · 7 years

Note

"why is your penis on a dead girl's phone?" for the prompt meme

“No specified pairing make Ditty something-something”“Write BruHarvey?”“DON’T MIND IF I DO!!!”

Here ya go love lmao xx

The feeling of cold metal wrapped around his wrists was the first sensation which Bruce experienced upon waking. He was seated upright and from the stiffness and chill of the seat he could tell it was made of some flimsy metal.

Easy to break through in a pinch.

The last thing he recalled was a feeling of extreme dizziness, of being drugged, as his vision failed and he collapsed. As he tensed his body, he could feel that his expensive suit was fitted around him comfortably and he took a moment to gather his wits as he prepared to face whatever was holding him here. From the breathing in the room he could detect three others present, men, and he inhaled as he put his best expression of panicked confusion on as he feigned awakening.

Bruce Wayne would panic in this situation.

“W-What is going on?” He stuttered, squinting as his eyes to dart around the floor. There was a table before him and he could faintly see the outline of black leather shoes indicating that someone was sitting across from him - waiting for him to look up.

The room was reminiscent of a prison holding cell in its barren state, and aside from the men held within it, the table was the only other item.

Glancing up, Bruce felt a jolt of surprise as he recognised his captor.

Harvey Dent.

Two-Face.

“Harvey.”

Only a slight hint of his confusion had seeped into his tone.

“Bruce.”

Harveys’ voice was calm yet clipped. It was the voice of an irritated Harvey Dent, rather than a relaxed Two-Face, and Bruce was put off-guard by the uncomfortable familiarity of it.

Sparing a glance for the two thugs, unarmed, who stood in both corners of the room opposite him, Bruce was quick to return his gaze to Harvey.

The main threat of the situation.

His expression was closed-off and the scarring which had torn through his handsome face on his left side was looking somewhat healthier than usual, despite its inherent grotesqueness, and the healed nature of it led Bruce to suspect that Harvey was in the middle of one of his ‘good’ periods.

Harvey had participated in a mass breakout from Arkham two months previously and Bruce had heard nothing concerning him since. No sightings by the docks, no whispers of plots on the wind and he had brushed it off as he sought out other escapees such as Tetch, who had been determined to cause as much havoc as possible immediately after his escape.

The only thing of interest which had cropped up concerning Two-Face was that he had been in contact with his psychiatrist, a specialist whom Bruce had flown in from Bludhaven to assist in Harveys’ care, and had contacted her via phone several times.

However, any hopes Bruce had possessed over Harveys’ potential reform were being severely shaken by this current predicament.

“Why am I here, Harvey? What is this?”

The million dollar question.

Two Face attacked Batman with no reprieve but Harvey Dent did not attack Bruce Wayne.

Even in his darkest moments as Two-Face, Harvey had never specifically targeted Bruce as a victim of one of his crimes. There was too much history between them and the lack of persecution had always left Bruce with a vague feeling of hope that Harvey could still be saved and even as he sat, he could feel no rage emitting from the other man.

But even the fact that Harvey had went out of his way to kidnap and handcuff him was disturbing.

“Harvey,” he prompted again as Harvey just continued to watch him, his scarred eye unblinking as he stared, “why have you brought me here?”

“Why is your penis on a dead girls’ phone?”

“What?!”

Whatever he had been expecting, it was not that.

As Harvey slammed a photograph on the small table which sat between them, Bruce was uncomfortably aware of how ironically this mirrored their usual encounters with the only exception being that Bruce was the one performing the interrogation in his full batsuit and cowl instead of a split-toned suit.

Moving his head forward, Bruce stared at the image. It was an explicit screenshot of a male penis and the mobile number which sat above it, the sender, was very familiar to him.

After all, it was his own.

Feigning embarrassment and surprise, Bruce slammed his own hands on top of the image.

“That’s not mine!”

And it was true.

In-keeping with his playboy persona, he had to experience the occasional media scandal and he had assumed that a leaking of private images would be enough to last the tabloids and paparazzi for a good while. So he had dedicated a very concise amount of time to finding an image which was similar enough to his own 'package’ to pass by those who were familiar with it without the actual humiliation of having to take and release his own pictures.

Gotham could take a lot from his but he would retain his dignity.

It had been an excruciating activity and he was thankful that neither Alfred nor his kids had walked in on that particular batcomputer search.

“Don’t lie to me, Wayne!” Harvey hissed as he balled up his fists. “This was found open on the phone of Victoria L'Amont next to her strangled corpse and the police have made you their first person of interest because of it.”

Bruces’ eyebrows shot up in surprise. He had no knowledge of any of this information so it must have been a very recent development within Gotham. Victoria L'Amont, an air-head socialite, was a woman he had very vague contact with and she was one of the few he had 'leaked’ his images to because it was more likely that she would go to a tabloid and attempt to sell him out.

His gut twisted as he considered the circumstances of her death and he hoped deeply that he had not been indirectly responsible for her death in any way. He had only ever sent images to women who were notoriously single and held no commitments. Her death was something he would need to investigate privately as soon as he was free from this interrogation.

Still protesting his innocence, Bruce shook his head vehemently.

“Harvey, I swear that’s not mine.”

“Cut the shit,” growling, Harveys’ frustration was clear as he continued using Bruces’ surname, “and stop lying, Wayne! Even I recognised that it was you and it’s been years sin-”

Harvey cut himself off suddenly, unwilling to disclose any more information than was necessary to the others in the room, as the faint memories of youthful indiscretions and heated debates which always ended with even more heated actions flooded Bruces’ mind.

“I have my sources within the GCPD,” Harvey explained as he picked some imaginary dust off the front of his suit, “and they told me that you were a suspect. So, tell me, why did she have it? What excuse will you give the police?”

Folding his arms on the table, Harvey stared him down and - for a moment – Bruce could see the ghost of his old friend sitting in the exact same position, questioning him as he practised and developed the persona he wanted to adopt in court.

He could also see his fingers twitching and he wondered if Harvey was fighting the urge to bring out his coin.

“I must have sent her it during one of our 'conversations’,” Bruce lied easily placing emphasis on the final word, “but I cannot recall doing so. When you’re in my position, you send a lot of images to a lot of different women and it can be hard to keep track.”

A tiny hint of disgust entered Harveys’ gaze as he rolled his eyes and Bruce could feel small tendrils of shame gripping him as he sensed the disappointment within the other man. However, his appearances had to be kept.

“What the hell happened to you, Wayne?” Harvey muttered, his scarred lips barely moving as the soft words escaped him.

“What the hell happened to you, Dent?” Bruce shot back, irritated at having been scolded by this man whom he had arrested more times than he cared to count, but he instantly regretting the words as he saw Harvey fight back a flinch.

Bruce knew exactly what had happened to Harvey Dent.

Feeling a touch guilty, Bruce tapped his handcuffs on the table and tried a different tactic.

“Why am I here, Harvey?”

His voice was soft and as his gaze focused on Harveys’ face, he was surprised by the look of confusion which had clouded it at the simple question. The small room was silent as Harvey internally debated his own reasoning and the answer which he would eventually give.

Mildly amused by Harveys’ uncertainty, Bruce sat with a thoughtful expression as his former friend came to a decision.

“You paid for us to receive treatment from that Bludhaven psychiatrist instead of the usual Arkham swines,” Harvey admitted, not quite meeting Bruces’ eye, “and she was,” he paused again, “kind to us and we thought that you deserved the jump on this.”

This was an excuse, a lie, and between the shifting glances and the mild flippancy, Bruce did not have to be the worlds greatest detective to work that out.

“So you kidnapped me just to warn me?” He concluded.

“A necessity,” Harvey contested, “because you would not have come willingly and I am a wanted man.”

“We could still ransom him boss if ya wanted to,” one of the henchmen piped up from his position in the corner, “like, we could make him pay for a safe return home. I’m sure the pretty boy can afford it.”

Twisting in position, Harvey snarled at the man and his face turned ashen as he realised his mistake.

“YOU WERE TOLD TO STAND THERE AND STAY QUIET!” Harvey bellowed, his tumultuous nature taking a turn for the worse as he rounded on his employee. His scarred hand dug into his pocket as he pulled his infamous coin free and tossed it high in the air in a threatening manner. “WANT TO TEST YOUR LUCK? GET OUT!”

As both men scrambled to leave the room, Bruce watched them passively.

“Harvey,” Bruce interrupted as Harvey continued to breathe heavily as he fought to control his temper, “thank you for warning me.”

His tone was soothing as he attempted to lighten the mood before he was forced to bring Harvey in for yet another murder and, leaning over the table with his cuffed hands, he placed one on Harveys’ shoulder and squeezed it lightly.

Distracted by the touch, Harvey turned and Bruce locked eyes with him for just a moment as he allowed him to understand his genuine appreciation for the warning.

Harvey could only hold his gaze for a moment before breaking away and he looked almost deflated as his aggression left him as quickly as it had appeared.

“I hope your alibi is strong, Bruce, because if it isn’t they’ll come down hard on you for this one. She was an heiress and the family has a lot of ties.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “It’s moments like this where you need friends.”

“It’s moments like this” Bruce agreed, “that I truly regret that the greatest lawyer, maybe even one of the greatest men, this city has ever seen has been lost to her. For now, anyway.”

“Good old Bruce. You’ll never give up on me, will you?”

Harveys’ wistful tone implied that the question was intended to be rhetorical but Bruce responded anyway.

“Never. I have, and always will, believe in Harvey Dent.”

Harveys’ grin exposed all of his teeth on his left side and the wolfish nature of it held a certain charm which even the scarring could not completely ruin.

“And Harvey Dent believes that you should stop sending out pornographic materials to women whom you barely know.”

Clasping his hands defensively, Bruce fought off a small smile at the rare display of humour.

“Noted.”

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11580897

#im not 100% happy with this but this is my first time writing them and it was an odd choice of prompt so leave me alone #bruharvey #bruce wayne #harvey dent #two face #batman #Anonymous

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fuck-you-i-am-spiderman · 7 years

Text

I won’t say I’m in love: Ch 4

Chapter 4: Aliens and butterbeer confessions

Find it here Ao3 and here ff.net

Summary: A trip to Hogsmeade later and Kara's blushing like crazy, what weird stories has Alex been telling Lena?!

Finally got round to updating so here you go guys!

Kara takes no notice of the suspicious glances Alex is shooting her as she practically bounces on her heels. Every few seconds she can hear someone coming around the corner, instantly whipping her head around to eagerly check who it is. Each time she fights back the disappointed sigh when it isn't the person she was hoping it would be. Kara is a mixture of nervous and excited, stopping her bouncing for a moment to tug at her sweater. She bites her lip, turning to address Alex.

"Are you sure I look okay?"

"For the fifth time, you look fine! It's just a trip to Hogsmeade, not the Yule Ball!" Alex cried throwing her hands up in frustration.

"I know that...I just want to look nice."

Kara could see Alex's expression immediately soften, her hands coming up to rest on her shoulders. "Kara, you look great so please try to relax, anyone would think you're trying to impress someone!"

Kara tries to laugh it off but can't fight the blush that appears at the thought of Lena liking her outfit. She watches in slight fear as Alex raises her eyebrow, narrowing her eyes as she removes her hands from Kara's shoulders.

"Are you trying to impress someone?"

"Nooo! what?! Ha...that's just- I mean whaaaaat?!"

She attempts to look away but the feeling of Alex's judgement draws her back -awkwardly shifting under her intense stare.

"Kara," Alex draws out her name and asks her again, "Are you trying to impress someone?"

"Nope, not at all. No way ho-say."

"You are a terrible liar."

Kara huffs indignantly but the sound isn't enough to deter Alex.

"and you can't keep secrets to save your life which means you must really like this person. So, you better spill right now Kara Zor-El!"

Kara looks aghast, pouting at the use of her old nickname. "Alex," she wines, "you promised you wouldn't bring that up again!"

"Come on, your alien phase was hilarious," Alex smirks before shaking her head, her features hardening once more "don't think you can distract me, I want to know who you're wanting to impress."

Luckily Winn and James chose that exact moment to come storming around the corner, saving Kara from further interrogation.

"You're full of bat bogeys! Barry Allen is sooo much better than Bruce Wayne." Winn exclaims shooting a disgusted look at James.

"All I'm saying is that Batman can hold his own in a fight, that's all."

"I don't know why we're still discussing this. You don't know anything about true superheroes!"

Kara watches in amusement as Winn stands on his tiptoes in an attempt to get in James's face.

It's Alex who breaks the tension. "Really, this again?! If you're both finished nerding out we can get going."

Kara shakes her head, gripping Alex's hand to still her.

"I may have invited someone else..." she trails off as all eyes fall upon her.

"I already told Lucy we'd meet her in the Hog's Head." James smiles down at her.

"It isn't Lucy,"

"Who did you invite Kara?" Alex's voice has that accusatory tone again causing Kara to bite her lip.

"Well I..."

"Is it Mon-El?" Winn pipes up. Kara can hear the eager edge to his voice. She doesn't have time to question it as Alex immediately jumps in, unable to hold the disapproval from her tone.

"Oh Kara, please tell me you didn't invite the poster child for white male privilege?!"

Kara is about to answer but the sound of footsteps approaching causes her attention to drift; her eyes twinkle and a bright smile instantly forms when she sees who it is. She shamelessly lets her eyes roam over Lena's outfit. The Slytherin is wearing a white dress with a thick black belt around the waist, paired with a light brown collared overcoat. Her usually straight hair is styled with simple flowing curls graciously hanging over her shoulders; and of course, she is wearing a set of plain black heals. The dark pink lipstick tops off a perfectly classy outfit, the sight of which only makes Kara smile more as she fights the urge to swoon.

Lena locks eyes with Kara, the two sharing a familiar smile as she approaches the group. She would never admit it out loud but Lena does feel somewhat nervous, especially when she catches sight of Alex's guarded expression. Out of the corner of her eye she can see Kara shooting a warning glare Alex's way before the girl turns to address Lena with a smile.

"Lena, I'm so glad you could come."

"Of course, as if I could ever say no to you Kara."

Kara blushes before she remembers they aren't alone and then with as much confidence as she can muster she begins to introduce Lena to her friends.

"So, everyone this is Lena. Lena I'd like to officially introduce you to Winn, James and my sister Alex." She gestures to each one, waiting to check Lena is okay before moving on to the next person.

Once Lena has exchanged pleasantries with them they decide to start walking. Kara's smile only grows as Lena extends her arm for Kara to link and they slowly make their way to Hogsmeade chattering amongst themselves as they do.

....

"You still have one question left Kara."

Kara hums in response, subtly edging closer to Lena as they walk together. Winn and James are debating something while Alex walks on the other side of Kara. Kara is about to respond but Alex perks up, turning with curiosity and a little bit of apprehension as she questions Lena. Kara narrows her eyes and gives Alex a warning nudge as she speaks.

"What does my sister have left, Luthor?"

Lena smiles in response, despite Kara aggressively nudging Alex. Lena turns her head to address her.

"Oh, it's just a little game Kara and I play, a chance to find out random facts about one another. You're more than welcome to join."

Kara shoots her sister a pleading look encouraging her to play nice and smiles when she can see the fight disappearing.

"Okay I have a question. How on earth do you get away with wearing heels, how is it that you haven't tripped over yet?!"

"Plenty of practice, during my third year I spent a lot of time on the ground," she laughs fondly before continuing "but I like to make a good impression so I practiced and then when that still didn't work I tried a few enchantments, eventually I came up with one which enables me to walk in heels and the shoes act like flats so I don't risk falling over."

"That's incredible Lena, you're very talented," Kara grins, turning to Alex with a desperate smile "don't you agree Alex?"

Lena observes the way Alex shifts and then nods in confirmation.

"That is very impressive, Luthor. Tell me, do you know any more homemade spells, say like ones needed to torture people?"

"Alex!" Kara growls. Her glare doesn't ease up even when Lena rests a hand on Kara's chest to stop her.

"It's okay Kara," she offers the girl a reassuring smile before turning back to Alex "It's a perfectly valid question. I understand how many people view me and my name but I have not been, nor will I ever be a part of my brother's tyrant. I do not share the same morals as my family and I can assure you that I do not intend to put forward any of the practices I have been forced to endure. All I ask is that you choose to judge me on my own convictions and not by the one my surname has unfortunately burdened on me."

Lena patiently waits and is rewarded by a sharp nod, noting how Alex's shoulders deflate somewhat and the older girl seems to relax a bit more as they proceed to walk again. Kara instantly grins, letting her fingers brush against Lena's every now and again as they walk. Her cheerful tone breaks the silence.

"Alex is just jealous because she could never master heels, one time she-"

Alex immediately cuts in with a teasing smirk. "Hey Lena, would you like to hear about the time Kara tried to convince us she was actually an alien from the planet Krypton?"

By the time the group reached the Hog's Head Lena and Alex were laughing as Alex recalled a time that Kara had whizzed around the house using a red towel as a cape. Kara flushed a beetroot red as she stomped over to one of the corner booths. She grumbled at the sound of their laughter as the group, now joined by James's girlfriend Lucy Lane, all slid into the booth. Lena sat on Kara's right with Alex on Kara's left, Winn chose to sit opposite Alex with James and Lucy sitting beside him.

Still smiling Alex moved to stand up, addressing the group. "Alright, who's for butterbeer?"

Everyone nodded and Kara grumbled which only made Alex grin more as she nudged her playfully.

"Come on Grumpy, I'll need help carrying them back."

Kara sighed but started to get up, only to be stopped by Lena's hand on her wrist. She turned to see that Lena had already risen.

"Don't worry Hun, you stay there; I'll go."

Kara didn't know whether to smile gratefully or frown at the thought of Alex sharing anymore embarrassing childhood stories. Lena's hand lingered for a minute before she left leaving Kara to slump in her seat.

"Yeah, you guys totally aren't a couple, Hun." Winn teased the girl.

"Shut it Winny." Kara all but growled in response, glaring at the boy as he continued to snigger.

She sighed as Lucy stopped her and James' conversation mid-way through, turning to look at the pair with a raised eyebrow.

"What's going on?"

"Kara's just mad because her girlfriend left."

Kara swiftly kicked the boy's shin, immediately stopping his laughter as he grimaced.

"Don't worry about it Kara, Lena will be back soon and then you two can be as soppy as you want."

Kara's mouth fell open as Lucy smirked, and leaned over James so she could high five Winn.

"Eugh, you guys!" Kara's whining only made them laugh more as she shot James a pleading smile.

"Alright, alright. You two leave Kara alone."

Lucy rolled her eyes but then she stopped and changed the subject, much to Kara's relief.

"So, did you guys hear the rumours about Professor Grant retiring?"

"I hope she isn't, I've learnt a lot from her. She's a really good teacher." Kara defends, clearly saddened by the possibility of losing her favourite teacher.

"She's scary though." Winn shuddered before he spoke again "The other day she caught Mon-El chewing gum in her class, I thought she was going to skin him alive!"

"That guy needs to learn some manners, for an entitled rich boy you'd think Daddy would have bought him a brain!"

Kara nodded in agreement as Lucy spoke.

"You should see him waltzing around the common room like he owns the place." James added.

"Aww come on guys, he isn't all bad."

They all scoffed at Winn's comment, just as Lena and Alex walked back, holding several large glasses of butterbeer.

"Who isn't all bad?" Alex asked as she passed drinks around, whilst sliding into her seat as Lena did the same.

"Mon-El."

Kara watched both Alex and Lena frown, with matching looks of disgust on their face.

"I wish Mon-Smell could take a hint."

"Ha, Mon-Smell. That's a good one!"

Kara smiled as Alex raised her glass in cheers. Lena smirked, clinking her glass against Alex's as she spoke. "Here's to a wonderful outing without the presence of Mon-Hell,"

"and to many more without his boy-band haircut." Alex retorts.

"here, here."

Kara couldn’t help but giggle into her drink as the two started to exchange Mon-El targeted insults. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Winn's face change, and not for the first time she noticed a sadness clouding over him. She quickly nudged Alex to get her attention, trying and failing to be subtle.

"Um, maybe we should ex-nay on the Mon-El bashing,"

Alex followed Kara's eye line and after a quick glance Kara was grateful that Alex took the hint and moved to engage Winn in conversation talking about the mechanics of Quidditch.

...

Kara finally got a chance to talk to Lena again. Angling her body so she moved closer, effectively closing the gap between them as she spoke.

"Are you having a good time, Lena?"

Lena took a sip of her drink before licking her lips, her ego boosting when she saw Kara's eyes darken slightly at the movement.

"I am. Your friends are all lovely, I honestly can't believe how quickly Alex has warmed to me. From your descriptions, I was expecting the cold shoulder."

"Yeah, Alex can be fierce sometimes, but really she's a big ol' softie."

"I'm glad we're getting along, she was telling me some fascinating stories about you."

Kara flushed again as she tried to wave her embarrassment off. "Don't listen to her, she loves to embarrass me!"

"Quite the contrary, I love hearing about little Kara and her adventures. My childhood was never as exciting and I had to grow up a lot quicker than most," Lena said nostalgically, "it wasn't often that I got to just be a child or play pretend, heck I haven't even made a fort!"

Lena watched as Kara's eyes widened comically.

"That has gotta be a rite of passage! It's settled; I am going to make us a fort,"

"Oh really?" Lena flashed the suddenly very determined girl an amused smile.

"Mhmm and it will be the greatest fort you'll ever have! Just you wait and see!" Kara grinned proudly, taking a large swig of her drink.

Lena held her hand up to her mouth to conceal her chuckle as Kara resurfaced with a butterbeer moustache along her upper lip. Kara blinked at her fake girlfriend with an innocent smile which only made Lena's chuckling harder to control.

"You have a little something," Lena gestured vaguely to the spot. After watching Kara fail to lick it off she leaned forward, her thumb coming to gently wipe the excess foam away "right there."

Kara stared as Lena locked eyes with her and proceeded to lick the foam from her thumb. All the while keeping eye contact with Kara.

The sound of Alex's voice broke their intense staring match.

"Would you two quit eye-fucking for one minute!"

"We weren't!"

Kara's protests were met with several scoffs; when she turned to address Alex, she could see that all eyes were upon her and Lena. She was met with varying levels of smug and teasing smiles.

"Oh please, Kara you were looking at Lena like she was your favourite potsticker!"

Winn snorted at Lucy's remark, still laughing when Kara's gaze cut to him.

"We've been talking about toilets and Filch's underwear for the past twenty minutes, but you were both too busy giving one another heart eyes to notice!"

Kara's face was so red that Lena thought that it may stick like that, she was always better at controlling her emotions but even she couldn’t hide the pink tinge that flooded her cheeks. Feeling the need to comfort the other girl Lena moved to place her hand in Kara's, squeezing it for good measure -an act that immediately caught Alex's attention, causing her to shoot a suspicious glance at the pair.

"Alright, what's going on?" she gestured at their joined hands with an expectant look.

Kara fidgeted a little but after receiving a reassuring nod from Lena she took a deep breath and then turned to address the rest of the table.

"So, I invited Lena to join us today because I-" she shook her head before correcting herself, "I mean we...we wanted to tell everyone together. Lena and I are dating....we're girlfriends."

After receiving no response Kara decided to confirm even further; the nervous edge she felt clear in the shake to her voice.

"I'm sorry that we kept it from you...we wanted to be sure of how we felt before we told anyone but I guess the school paper did that for us."

"James is really sorry about that," Lucy responded, smiling in sympathy for the nervous girl.

"Is everyone okay with it, with us? Would someone say something!"

Kara's eyes darted back and forth as the table remained silent for a moment, their expressions unreadable until Winn sighed and turned to a smug looking Alex.

"Crap."

"Pay up Schott," Alex held her hand out as Winn begrudgingly handed her 2 galleons.

"I thought it was going to take you longer than that Kara. Damn it!"

Kara watched in confusion as the boy continued to whine to Alex who shrugged pocketing the cash as she responded: "Shut it loser, I know my sister!"

"Okay, what on earth is going on?!" Kara demanded.

The sound of Lena's soft chuckling beside her caused her brow to scrunch. She turned to question Lena instead.

"What's so funny?"

"It's obvious, isn't it? Your friends clearly had a bet going on about when we'd tell them. I guess we aren't as subtle as we thought, darling."

Kara looked offended but then she started to smile before a loud belly laugh erupted and the whole table is amidst with laughter and joy. Alex and Lena left the table for a few minutes. Kara watched them closely, observing how Alex squared her shoulders: a tell-tale sign that she was in defence mode. Her gaze shifted towards Lena, who stood tall, a serious expression on her face as she gestured with her hands. She watched as Lena said something else and she could see her name falling off Lena's lips followed by a soft smile. Kara looked to see Alex nod, clearly impressed by Lena's charm. She quickly turned back around as they rejoined the table, waiting a few seconds before checking in with Lena.

"Is everything okay? Alex wasn't too scary, right?"

"Just the right amount," Lena winked playfully before continuing "don't worry Kara, your sister cares about you a great deal and it's only to be expected that she'd want to take me aside to make sure I'm going to treat you right."

Kara smiled as Lena objectively reasons. "What did I do to deserve someone as amazing as you?"

Lena didn’t respond as Kara let her head rest against her shoulder with a content sigh. She allowed herself to sink into the girl's embrace revelling in the warmth Kara brought and thinking the exact same thing.

#supercorp fake dating hogwarts au #supercorp #supercorp fanfic #supergirl fanfiction #lena luthor #kara danvers #my fics #enter chapter 4

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tessatechaitea · 7 years

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Batman Annual #1

Holy fuck a lot of people got paid for working on this issue!

Has anybody reading this ever tried reporting a picture on Facebook? I'm going to assume not because if you enjoy my blog posts, you probably have a similar temperament to me which, I think, the kids call chill as fuck. I'm sure it's something different now like maybe cool as penguin testes. But anyway, I actually clicked on the report link today — not because I actually wanted to report something but just because I was curious — and I can't fucking believe the options they give you for wanting to report a photo.

Are you fucking kidding me? "It's annoying or not interesting"?! Who the fuck is the arbiter of interesting and annoying on Facebook? No wait. Don't answer that question because it will seriously depress me.

The only reason given here that makes any sense is the second one. Even the spam one is bullshit because users on Facebook have a lot of options to avoid spam. Well, they have one really great option: unfriend the fucker who keeps spamming you! But the other reasons? My God, what kind of touchy fucking society are we living in that people need this kind of power and control over other people? "I think it shouldn't be on Facebook." Fuck off, you annoying prick! Anybody who has ever clicked that bubble can suck shit out of my asshole. Unless they have a shit fetish and then they can't do that. These options for reporting a photo aren't to make Facebook a better place; these options are to allow petty assholes to exert some kind of power over somebody they dislike. Even if I think the other options (like unfollowing or unfriending a person) are better, I wouldn't even mind if one of the options was "Overtly sexual." At least it's a more defensible reason (you know, for prudes) than "It's not interesting." Another option should be "Too gorey," like when your oversharing friend posts pictures of some organ they had removed. Although, yet again, I still maintain that the other options are better than declaring some picture shouldn't be posted by some person on their own fucking timeline. You have control over your own fucking Facebook environment, assholes. Stop trying to control everybody else's too. This issue begins with Batman's throat being torn out by Ace the Bathound. Or it's a different Ace who's the mascot for the Royal Flush Gang. The title of the story is "Good Boy" which means it's going to be fucking melancholy and depressing. I guess there will be multiple stories since "Good Boy" doesn't list the same amount of artists in the credits as there are on the cover. This already has me thinking of the end of Cujo which goes something like this: "He had always tried to be a good dog and do what his master said and never wanted to kill anybody but something about a degenerative nerve disease called rabies or something." I suck at remembering quotes. I can't even remember my own quotes and I truly love and adore most of everything I say or write. So here's the actual quote:

“It would perhaps not be amiss to point out that he had always tried to be a good dog. He had tried to do all the things his MAN and his WOMAN, and most of all his BOY, had asked or expected of him. He would have died for them, if that had been required. He had never wanted to kill anybody. He had been struck by something, possibly destiny, or fate, or only a degenerative nerve disease called rabies. Free will was not a factor.”

When I first read Cujo in Junior High, I don't think the book touched me at all. Until that fucking paragraph. I think Stephen King wrote that entire fucking book simply so he could stick in that final paragraph and rip the fucking heart out of everybody reading it. I'm crying thinking about it now! Stupid Cujo! Batman's throat was torn out by Ace of Spades the Cardhound on September 2nd. I bet the rest of this story is just panels of Batman getting rabies shots across the next few weeks.

Whew. I don't have to be sad! This is about the adoption of Ace the Bathound! Although now I'm suddenly tearing up out of happiness. Good boy!

Why do our stupid bodies cry when we're extremely happy or extremely sad? Doesn't it know they're vastly different emotions that should really call for vastly different reactions? If I were one to believe that some omnipotent God created the human body, I wouldn't be impressed by Their workmanship. God could imagine every vastly different and crazy thing in the Universe but They couldn't think up two different reactions to emotions on the opposite ends of the spectrum? Now is probably the time I should reassess this whole happy versus sad thing and try to reconcile why people cry from both emotions. But I don't want to. I'd rather point out God is a terrible artisan. Ace is sent to a kill shelter because The Joker has made Ace into a monster. But Alfred donates a shit-bunch of Bruce's money to the pound so that the kid at the front desk could illegally adopt the dangerous animal out. Alfred also demands that the Gotham Pound be renamed the Martha and Thomas Wayne Humane Society." Why would the Gotham Pound use another organization's name, the Human Society, in their new name?! Oh! I've also just realized something! Every building or organization in Gotham that is named after Martha and Thomas Wayne accepted a bribe from Bruce or Alfred for engaging in some illegal activity that helped out Batman! For shame on them all!

This scene takes place on my birthday!

Titus might not be too happy about Bruce adopting a dog with cannibalistic tendencies. Bruce is all, "Knock it off, Alfred. Just kill the dog. Put it down like it deserves because it has a wound that can't be healed." Then he walks off oblivious to the irony. By Christmas, Alfred has trained Ace to be a good boy.

He then somehow travels back to when Bruce was thirteen years old to give it to Bruce's younger self.

I don't know what the next story is called because I've only read the first page so far.

If it isn't called "Dragnet", I'm going to be sorely disappointed.

The story is called "Silent Night" and makes no reference to Dragnet so I'll just assume Scott Snyder and Ray Fawkes subconsciously stole the style of the beginning of every single episode of Dragnet ever. The next story is called "The Not So Silent Night of the Harley Quinn." I'm sensing a theme here! Was I supposed to read this comic book around Christmas? There's this other story about Minister Blizzard and somebody named The Stag who is going to be a huge threat in 2017 or else why even introduce her here and end the story with "End? The Stag is coming in 2017..."? See how it ends in three dots and not four? That means it's open-ended! She will be back! Then there's a final story about some woman or something or whatever. Happy Holy Days, suckers! The Rating! I guess Ace the Bathound is back! Wayne Mansion is fucking infested with animals now. I hope they get some more!

#Batman #DC Comics

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lackadaisical-pottymouth · 6 years

Text

Batmans Apology

this is so late oh my gosh im ashamed i forgot about it

Fandom: Batman

-- is a change in perspective

xx is a change in snippet

There was a rumour in Gotham City.

Tuesday. The city lit by streetlights and apartments that hadn’t quite settled for the night. Empty roads hummed with drifters going this way or that.

Fingers, frigid. Ears, nose, frozen. Jim was losing the battle against frostbite.

Restless shivers sent his shoes bopping against asphalt. The pocketwarmer abandoned him by the time he’d lit the big black bat signal, but blessed be his luck, it was a clear night in Gotham City.

The --what did springy Robin call it? Bat-phone?-- the Batphone weighed comfortably in his pocket and pulled double hours as a heater. A small heater that touched barely four by two inches of skin. Only minutes prior had he sent out the signal.

“Commissioner.”

And there was the person of the hour. Imposing, dark, familiar. Maybe a little too familiar. It was easier now than it had ever been to imagine big blue eyes and his father’s jaw--but then again, he hadn’t been privy to that information before.

No, no, Jim. That hadn’t been confirmed yet.

His soul promptly left his body at the greeting but he pulled it back with gum or staples or whatever the hell had kept it in place for all these years. Right. He straightened his spine and tried hard for the composure that’d been trained into him. Drivers-licence Robin watched from the shadows, the whites of his mask luminescent.

“Batman,” he greeted, refusing to question how he snuck up behind him when he was backed against a wall, “Robin.”

The child vigilante nodded in acknowledgement, stepping forward to join his mentor. He was young, very young despite the upp of his nose and the overconfidence in his posture. The Robin sent an unkind look that he probably deserved.

Batman grunted, “You said it was urgent.”

Right. He brought his hands to his lips and blew softly, all the while wishing for the gloves Barbara had bought him. Like ripping off a bandaid, Jim, he assured himself. “I’ll spare you the details. Word has it you’re Bruce Wayne.”

He imagined the silence that followed was a raised eyebrow, the sardonic sort that wouldn’t have been seen through the fabric--metal?--of the cowl.

“I get the feeling you won’t tell me who’s under that mask,” Robin bristled but the Bat raised an arm and the boy stayed put, “And I don’t want to know who. Just thought you should know.”

“I take it you’ve looked into it.” said as a statement, as always. But Jim quirked a self-hating smile nonetheless and presented the manilla folio.

“Lot of it is hearsay,” he said, recounting the he said she saids and ‘cousin sally’s he’d gone through to get even that,

He’d look back and they’d be gone, like always.

The intercom rang with yet another arrival and Alfred clicked to connect between pressing shirts. Instantly the feed lit up with a face full of adolescent pimples and aged sweaters. Teenagers, he noted, temporarily setting the emergency protocol to ‘Civillian’.

“Oh my gosh there’s a camera! Kim, look! We’re famous!”

Nervous skittering was followed by a harsh rebuke that put an end to the abrupt tizz of movement, “Shut up, Barlow. This is a bad idea. We should go home and--.”

A composed cough sent a shock through both teenagers. “I take it you don’t have an appointment,” Alfred said, more or less reciting lines by this point, “Name and purpose for the visit, please.”

“Barlow” paused in confused shock, “Is Bruce Wayne british?” they asked, peering up into the surveillance as though it’d deliver answers. “Never met the guy--Kim? Is he?”

“No!” “Kim” snapped, “He’s from Jersey!”

“You don’t say,” said with the lightest whistle of amusement while “Kim” seemed to seethe embarrassment.

A beat passed and he considered dropping the line, picking up whatever they’d brought later. But they spoke, pulling a thatched cap down over unruly curls, “Uhm, Kim Long. My Ma sent gifts for--,” a stutter as the voice dipped to the faintest of whispers, “For Bruce Wayne.”

Kim looked over a faux-fur shoulder and Alfred paused, his attention fully on the video stream, “He-uh-Batman, stopped a fire in my apartment building. And Wayne funded the whole rebuilding thing. So, thanks.” They looked around, then paused to be incredulous as Barlow gestured to a ziploc container, “we’ll just leave it here, then. Bye.”

He waited till they were gone before sending out the robot rover-- things were mucky enough without added speculations that Bruce Wayne housed Robot Butlers. The goods would be inspected thoroughly before being sent to the furnace. “Kim Long” would be added to the growing list of thank-you card recipients once the ordeal was over.

It was always a toss-up going to work after times as these. Odds were that Wayne Ent would be attacked because he was there, or that Wayne Ent would be attacked in his absence. Rarely was there a third option, so he tended instead to make one.

This he stole from Tim’s book, which Tim claimed was stolen from one of his.

The tux was an authentic Pennyworth, lined with hidden pockets a-plenty and the most lightweight of bullet-resistant fabric.

Shocker of the year, Wayne Enterprises was under attack.

Mr. Wayne struggled to show his disappointment. Anaji’s presentation would need be postponed for another time, one with a few less looming threats. But the real travesty was that Anaji would have another sixty minute segment scheduled for some later date. Such things were better experienced once and in very small amounts.

Anaji’s apparent dislike translated to stabbing him in the back with her purse as they hurdled through the halls like business-dressed tuna.

The walls groaned and although he was no stranger to their echoing lengths, today they were cold and warped. The steel panels danced under flickering lights. Rivets stared judgmentally as board members stampeded to safety.

Some clutched to their suitcases and their bags, elbowing fiercely against that damn rib that he’d only just gotten clearance for. Those that didn’t sent him cautious corner-eye glances, their breath held as if expecting him to move, to miraculously solve everything. He’d the feeling it was more than just worry for his boisterous persona.

The group took a left, veering toward the shielded emergency steps that led to the back parking lot. With one arm, Wayne propped himself up. Someone and their damn elbow-knives had decided he was moving too slowly, apparently. The other ushered forward his companion of the day who was making good work of turning themselves into a human wrecking ball.

He winced as clumsy feet trampled over his left foot where the toes had yet to heal. He hissed painfully and the group froze. When he turned to them the intern withered instantly, paling several shades as their mouth gaped for air.

“I’m sorry Bruceman! Mr. Batwayne! Boss Knight!” they stuttered. The hidden gazes turned harsh, scrutinizing. Wayne stepped back, slouching as the prattling continued, “This wasn’t meant to happen--I didn’t know. I swear.”

That again. Familiarity quirked the side of his lips into a smile. They were new then, probably under the mercy of older, more mischievous co-workers. The others though, the fearful ones that stole glances, even now? He didn’t have an answer for those.

“It’s alright, it’s alright!” He stomped three times despite the pain. A wave of suited shoulders relaxed and he’d the distinct feeling he’d passed some sort of test. The frown he felt was put aside and he focused back on the intern, “August, right?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

He huffed in the slightest of ways, looking the appropriate amount of petulant while surveying the reactions, “Well, Augie--can I call you Augie?”

They nodded and he continued.

“These things happen. Don’t worry about it.” and with that he laughed deeply, loudly, too loud for the alarms ringing and the eyes that trained on him like daggers, “no harm done.”

He intended to pat the interns arm. It would be a final, clinching action that would have sealed the facade--but the intern jumped away from the contact. The tension seeped back into their shoulders and drenched the air about them.

For a moment they were ice. As though this would be the straw that broke the camel’s back. The axe that felled the oak tree.

Mr. Wayne coughed, then clapped twice.

“Sheesh,” and he peppered his voice with nervous laughter, wicking away the discomfort in buckets, “I thought this hallway was a lot shorter!”

It worked in the most ineffective of ways. The unease had already become an unwelcomed guest. It stayed there, suffocating, until the heavy steel doors were pried open and the people scrambled to safety.

In the chaos of relief, Bruce Wayne disappeared.

Curiously, Alfred picked up as soon as he beeped in. There was something in his voice, something weighty and strained despite the intentions of the deadpan commentary, “I take it the meeting went well, sir?”

Batman grunted as he moved between vents.

An annoyed sigh echoed on the lips of the old butler, “Right. I suppose I’m talking to myself now. Very good.”

Clicks fired off in rapid succession before halting sharply to an inhaled breath. Batman dove down a side-vent of the building designed for times as these. The clicking resumed, more hesitant this time.

“They came in through the north and southern entrances. Twenty altogether.”

A breath shifted the accents to one that was deeper, gruff and indistinguishable. Alfred grunted before switching back to his normal tone.

“I know Master Batman,” he continued, “they are a ballsy lot. Shame they couldn’t come up with a decent dress code. I’ll send you a visual.”

Another grunt from the aged man and a notification beeped quietly.

Clear lenses tinged blue as the scene was projected. He recognized a few things instantly--the deep crimson of the welcome desk. The bright green of the plants. The huddled forms of the first-floor staff.

Intruders taking strides held themselves with hunched shoulders and trembling guns and seemed altogether better suited in a swiss cheese factory. A few of them rapped idly with their feet while one sang along to the warning tone. Hostiles numbered ten.

The second clip was of the southern entrance, though this group was significantly less decorated than the first.

“Red Robin will be there with haste. I’ve sent him the same information I’ve sent you, sir.”

The grunt that followed was facetious, not quite to the level of gruffness as the previous imitations had been. More a whine, really.

“And we will most certainly have time for cucumber sandwiches afterwards.”

Batman himself made no sounds as he changed to his hands, working at the screws of another vent, this one closer to the breach. “Have Red Robin take the south entrance. Tell him--”

“Already on it, B!”

He froze for the briefest moment before motion returned to his hands. “Keep on your toes, watch for hostiles in hiding. They’re slow and untrained.”

Red huffed a sound, almost like a chirp, “That makes them easy targets.”

“That makes them unpredictable. Stay focused. Batman out.”

Alfred sighed, “I do so love these conversations,” he muttered dryly. And then the clicking returned, calculated and slow until the communicator was turned off.

Batman frowned as he dropped from the vent he’d crawled through. A fan whirred angrily in the distance and almost masked the soft squeak of dirty tennis shoes on polished tile. One man in particular strode with fake confidence, gesturing wildly with one gloved hand while the other clasped the gun like a lifeline.

“Activate sound,” Batman commanded, dwarfed by one of many purposefully-obscuring columns. He blended to the dark it provided. Instantly the feed was punctuated by the nasally tones.

“Come ooon out, Brucie!” the man drawled, gnarly with overconfidence and ire, “We just want a little chat, see.”

Three batarangs were unsheathed. For a moment, the intruder stopped. His back turned away. His feet shifted weight. His heartbeat skyrocketed. Then he continued in the same grainy pitch.

“Look, we’re even all dressed up to play!” he scoffed, and then he knocked the butt of his gun against the shoulder of an elderly woman. A guest, probably, from the scowl she wore. The man laughed and spat on her floral print cardigan, “Some of us anyway, but that’s alright. We can all have a honky-dory party. ‘S not fair when you’re the only one with a mask.”

Batman breathed and began to move. His strides were rapid, soundless.

“You colossal fu--.”

He flicked his wrist. The batarangs sliced through the air with deadly aim, embedding themselves into the black metal of the gun. The last nicked the mans gloved hand and he howled.

At once the gaggle of nervous accomplices exploded into tones and grunts. Good, he thought, ducking for cover. This misdirection was his disguise.

But the people--the people. He watched as their eyes like saucers roamed the place, their mouths slightly agape in hushed words. They clung to each other.

Murmurs echoed through the office and stole the places where silence hid before. “It’s him,” they said, “It’s the Bat.” Yet the stillness permeated like a sickness, so much so that the ashen faces in petrified frost could’ve been mistaken for statues.

He moved between pillars, unseen aside from movements in the corners of eyes. Unheard for the cracking of the cape between lunges.

The intruders began to circle, their chests puffed out in an attempt at bravado that failed miserably. Their uncoordinated mishmash of bootleg kevlar and camo-print was almost laughable. Nervousness rattled the guns in their hands in time with the chattering of their teeth.

Batman lunged.

Person One went down with a thud after a crack against his skull. Two had barely crossed his path when a nerve-strike robbed his consciousness.

Three and Four were back to back, but pressed against a huddle of people nearest the welcome desk. They became quick acquaintances with the big blue welcome map and the spot that said “You are Here.” and again with the burgundy carpet.

Five, Eight and Nine turned at this, fumbled with their machinery between obscenities screamed and jumbled orders. A batarang sliced through the guns like heavy leaden butter before a net exploded from a capsule and caught them.

From the shadows Batman watched, taking note of the citizens in varying states of distress, of the men that clotted together between them. His eyes narrowed on the scatter of remainders. Men by the plaque that displayed the Wayne Ent. missions statement, where a group of employees were crouched in fear. The remainders ducked behind information podiums.

It was Seven, with the dirty denim jacket and the greasy hair that still peeked out under his mask, that managed to fire a shot. It echoed loudly, startling Six out of their petrified stance.

“What the hell, dude?” Six demanded, their voice hoarse and their eyes trained on the heated barrel. Then they blinked at the people around them, who’d covered their ears in the flimsiest of shields, “We weren’t supposed to shoot! What if you hit someone?”

With a scoff, Seven repositioned his gun. With a sharp tap, Batman descended and Seven fell.

Six’s eyes were trained on his unmoving associate. Then they climbed the height of the looming figure beside him and rested on unnerving white of the irises. He muttered a single, “Christ.” before he, too, crumbled. The old lady nearest the two spat at the unmoving bodies and Batman allowed himself a smirk as she was pulled back into the protective huddle.

And then there was that silence again as Batman surveyed the area. Eyes trained on him, some awed, some afraid, many confused, were all obscured the moment the thermo-scanners were activated.

Big bad Ten remained hidden.

“Of course you came,” he sneered from some place where wooden desks surrounded him. Rage and fear caused his voice to quiver, “What a good businessman you are, Mr. Wayne.”

Batman closed in, moving fluidly, quietly, even as the man continued to jeer.

“It’s funny to you, isn’t it? Just another pastime for the rich boy.”

He arched around the desk, the man sniveling in his sights.

“Fuck you,” he spat.

The Batman descended.

Gordon had little to say as they booked the perps and led them away. Apart from the recount for the report, he’d stuck mostly to redirecting the wandering attention of his subordinates. But the gazes had lingered despite his intentions. He’d caught the looks on the ruddy faces-- cautious, so cautious, under a layer of confusion. It was echoed in the eyes of people escorted away from the building.

Batman frowned, but stood silently and watched, replaying the taunts. He scowled, etching a personal message to the Cave to scour recent media outlets.

Behind him, though, he heard footsteps. Slightly heavy, but incredibly rapid--as if pushing against something that weighed down. “Red Robin,” he greeted, turning to face the young man.

His lips were a taut line. Batman braced himself for the worst.

“B, you may wanna look at this.”

A button was pressed and a holoscreen propped up on the gauntlet.

Batman Unmasked, it said, Bruce Wayne is the Caped Crusader.

The scowl deepened.

#mal needs to chill #year end wiplash #im sorry im sorry ill finish this before school starts #stories

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