#assorted rogues

[ghost-bxrd]

Jason “my dad actually has a lot of siblings so I have some cousins I didn’t know about in star city I’m gonna meet :D”

Every single batfam member:

[cloudyfacewithjam]

Eoin McGonigal (Dónal Finn) in SAS: Rogue Heroes Season 1 Episode 2

[tuna-keyboard]

dear diary: unfortunately, i had work today, which means i could not passively think about my blorbos nor indulge in their medias. not to worry! i have instead taken all those thoughts and thought them all at once and made myself ill with the intensity of it.

i have also coped by animatedly teaching coworkers who did not ask what an omophagea is and why it is important. i have secured several new alliances this way.

[rogunetocentral]

If I had a nickel for every time Rogue roughed up Magneto and he was absolutely into it, I’d have two nickels…

Which isn’t much, but it’s somehow enough to convince me that Magneto is the submissive one in their physical relationship 🤪

I definitely think Magneto likes his partners playing rough. I mean, who can blame him for wanting to be dominated by Rogue? He totally bottoms for her.

Although, I don't think a direct punch is his go-to for foreplay.

[ramenflavoredchaos]

Hula

It was very typical of Harley to host a rogue’s only talent show, it was also very typical of her botanical girlfriend that everyone’s safety hinged on their participation. Now Oswald found himself in the back row of an abandoned theater while a handful of criminals were showing off their skills ranging from dislocating and relocating their arm (It was glaringly obvious Jonathan was getting a kick out of the reactions he got out of that) to recounting the entire ace attorney series word for word (Harvey was very hung up on the spin off series being chess themed). The gentleman rogue was trying to find out of this predicament, weighing out whether he could sneak out through the fire escape or just blow a hole into the side of the wall and book it, both ending is Poison Ivy either strangling him or Harley tackling him to the floor.

“Next up! Edward Nygma who will be performing a,” the clown girl held her cue cards closer to her face and muttered something in Korean, “He will be performing three hula numbers back to back honoring the the lava goddess Pele and- Aigoo this handwriting is atrocious…”

“I don’t need your input on my penmanship just read what’s on the card,” a voice backstage yelled.

“How!? You write like you don’t have hands!”

“Forget it I’m going to start!”

Thinking back, Oswald did remember Edward mentioning that when he was growing up in Hawaii he use to dance hula professionally.

“He must have had a hard time looking for a green aloha shirt,” Oswald chuckled to himself thinking about how the Riddler was seen in skin tight costumes or sparkling suits, a button up shirt and khakis was probably a change of pace for the prince of puzzles.

That is until Ed began to dance out once the speakers played a prerecording of Ed chanting to the beat of a percussion. Oh wow! Oh dear! He was wearing a cloth barely covering his lower half and wreaths around his limbs and head. With each turn the cloth moved out of the way to briefly show his ass giving way to a couple of whistles from the crowd. Oswald meanwhile was preoccupied by Ed’s expressions, the way his eyes followed every movement his hands made, the way he would call out the first word of each verse, the way his face displayed this unadulterated joy and love of his performance. Of course, the fact the man was practically naked didn’t go unnoticed by Oswald but there was something charming about Ed’s enthusiasm radiating from his body once the second number started and he was alternating between standing and dropping down in his dancing.

“You’re really focusing in on him,” Selina pointed out from behind him, “Wanna share with the class?”

Oswald blushed, “I don’t know what you mean. Ed is just a very charismatic performer.”

“Sure.”

“I am. I am sure!”

The cat thief just hummed a response, turning her attention to the stage where Ed was on his knees and bending backwards, his upper body just barely touching the floor. In that moment, the dancer’s eyes locked onto Oswald’s and everyone else seemed to disappear from their mind’s eye. Edward held his position for a good while and winked before shooting back up to wrap up his dance.

Suddenly, an escape plan sounded like a terrible course of action and it was swiftly replaced with how he can get this man to dance for just him.

All based on this picture I drew of him-

[mandatory-blog-stop-asking]

March 12 2025 comic reviews

Here's my reviews for this week, March 12, available over at my other blog, @pedrocomicreviews.

Didn't get a chance to read everything I wanted this week, so I'm probably doing more reviews than usual next week. Someone send me a copy of Assorted Crisis Events, damn it.

There's also a spoiler discussion for Iron Man #6 you can read here.

Tumblr changed the way it auto-makes thumbnails yet again and I'm not really interested in going against it, so enjoy that blog's avatar.

[ditzybat]

non-gotham locals think the most prolific bat-villain is the joker, or scarecrow, even the riddler — or any of their assorted highly dangerous deluded rogues.

but a real gothamite knows how big a pain in the ass condiment king is, in fact, urban legend says that the bat kids have formed a pact to not tell batman if condiment king just happens to turn up… at the bottom of gotham harbor.

[yourlocalsurrealism]

DP X DC PROMPT: DANNY'S AN ASSASSIN?!

So Danny gets adopted by the Waynes somehow.

Now, he's a teenage vigilante, he knows all the signs. And he can clearly tell that Damian and Tim are sneaking out under the cover of night to fight crime as Robin and Red Robin.

While ordinarily this would lead to the connection between the Waynes being Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, and various other assorted vigilantes, that's not what we're here for, so instead, what happens is that Danny thinks that his two absolutely normal little brothers are sneaking out, meeting strange people dressed in spandex and Kevlar on rooftops, and punching criminals.

He has no issue with this.

The only issue he has is that Tim and Damian are inexperienced, I mean, Damian's twelve or something like that, he can't have been Robin for long. He's not particularly willing to get back into heroism himself, though, so this leads to him casually dropping random tidbits of information that only an ex-vigilante/hero/assassin/other part of the caped community, would know into regular conversation.

Like, if Tim's using bandages on his hand, Danny will suddenly drop the fact that that particular brand is very absorbent and works really well to take care of large, bloody wounds, like bullet holes in important places.

If Damian's reading a book about different knives, and their creation processes (because be real, he totally would) Danny will read over his shoulder a bit and then just point out a knife that would particularly good for stabbing someone in the stomach, or slitting someone's throat. (he knows this because of a. his rogues trying to kill him and b. Dan likes sharp things.)

The three of them are watching some superhero movie or something, and Danny goes on a twelve-minute rant about how the fight scenes would never work that way.

Tim and Damian come to the conclusion that their new brother has been trained by the League of Assassins or something.

Here's the issue. Danny hasn't.

So Damian starts dropping little hints that he knows that Danny was part of the League, for example a reference to a technique that only a League member would know. Danny, who has been trained in hand-to-hand by Dan, who was trained by dead League assassins in the alternate timeline, knows the moves.

Danny is just happy that his baby brothers are taking his advice, and opening up to him too. Damian is even starting to talk about fighting with him, and he thinks that they might actually tell him about their nighttime activities soon.

Finally, the two confront him on it. And by that, I mean that like the emotionally constipated bats they are, they utterly fail in their interrogation because they can't just come out and say it out in the open.

Tim: so Danny, I noticed how you know a lot about fighting. and first aid, and stuff.

Damian: I have noticed this as well. Might I inquire as to where you gained these skills?

Danny just thinks that they have figured out his past as a vigilante and that they are worried about him being hurt.

Danny: Don't worry about it. I don't do that type of thing anymore.

Now that's a deflection if Tim's ever heard it.

Damian, digging for more information: I wish to know. Maybe I can learn from whoever it was that taught you?

Danny grimaces slightly before answering.

Danny: Trust me, kiddo, you don't wanna learn from the people who taught me this stuff. They squash you like a bug.

Tim and Damian take this as confirmation that Danny was involve in the League. Danny just means that pitting his rogue gallery, which consists of exclusively ghosts, against living boys would be unfair.

[aealzx]

_______________________

Prologue Next

_______________________

“We’ve secured the suspected meta.”

“Copy that. Red Hood, do you have eyes on the last of them?”

“Not yet, but I’m pretty sure she’s in this apartment.”

Several months ago a group of unpredictable rogues had popped up in Gotham. Nothing unusual for the city, other than they appeared to be a group of teenagers who were both criminals and heroes. Stolen goods of various types ranging from common camping supplies, food, and clothing, to an odd assortment of medical supplies and technology. Assaulted police, other heroes and vigilantes given the slip. And yet there were also many criminals dealt with that hero teams couldn’t account for who was responsible. The main lead they had gotten was the suspected meta human. A girl with white hair that could fly, phase through walls, and various other super human feats. She had been the first lead they could latch onto, and from there they had built profiles on the other three. The oldest girl appeared to be in her late teens, another girl just a few years younger, a boy the same age as the second girl, and then the metahuman, younger than all of them. They had been more of a curiosity than a serious threat. Until they had stolen something from the wrong people and painted a target on their heads. Now they were in a cross between a rescue and capture mission as the team only known as The Phantoms were being raided by pissed off crooks.

The three youngest had already been caught by the rest of the team sent by Batman, it was only the eldest girl that remained. And unless Tim could pull off a miracle Jason only had ten minutes to find her before the planted bomb destroyed the building they’d been hiding in.

With Barbara’s help he and a few of the others had searched the entire apartment building, checking each room for the remaining Phantom and placing eyes where they’d been to make sure she didn’t give them the slip and run to somewhere they’d already been. Jason had just slammed through the front door of one more apartment when he’d answered Barbara’s question, a scattering of food wrappers in a trash pile, a small cook top, sleeping areas, and other items for basic needs betraying recent habitation. It was a good hint that this was where the Phantoms had stationed, especially with the scrabbled together computer workstation setup off to one side.

There were only three other doors in the apartment, and Jason moved to the first one quickly. A closet near the front door. Empty. A bathroom across from the front room. Also empty. Which meant the last room, the bedroom, had to be where she was, if she was there.

Jason flung the door open and promptly caught the crowbar that was swung at his face, accompanied by a near frantic screech from the girl he’d been looking for

“Got her,” Jason announced to the comms, deftly yanking the crowbar out of the girl’s hands and tossing it to the side. “Begin evacuation, I’ll be out in - ….. Shit.”

As Jason spoke to Barbara and the rest of the team he decidedly ignored the girl’s demands for him to get out, having to block a fist thrown his way. He’d noticed she was obviously distressed, tears marking her dirty cheeks and a fierce glare directed his way. It wasn’t unexpected considering she was the last of her team they didn’t have in custody; she must have felt any myriad of emotions ranging from despair at failing to fear that they would hurt her. Yet Jason quickly noticed something that made him cuss mid report, and realize the girl's actions weren’t out of defiance, but protectiveness.

“There’s five of them,” Jason reported, finger pressing to his comm and eyes locked onto the new figure that hadn’t been part of any of their intel. And for a good reason. The lad was unconscious on a cot, one of the stolen items in the team’s list, and he didn’t look good. If it weren’t for the shallow, shuddering breaths from him Jason would have thought he were already dead, his skin ghastly pale other than fever flushed cheeks. “There’s another boy, heavily injured. I’m bringing them both out, have someone standing by.”

“DON’T TOUCH HIM!”

Of course the girl heard his report, and renewed her efforts to fight Jason, blocking him from reaching the fifth member. They didn’t have time to converse gently though, and so Jason grabbed her arm and yanked her forward. “Listen! I’m not going to hurt you, I’m trying to rescue you. There’s a bomb! We have to get out of the building, and get him to a hospital.”

The girl was smart. Or at least not dumb enough to ignore Jason’s words completely, for she froze the moment he mentioned the bomb. “...What?” she asked, wide eyes locking onto him, daring him to trick her.

“Look, you guys trying to steal Lazarus water pissed off the wrong people. They planted a bomb, and my team and I are here to rescue you. We can talk about your crime runs later, alright?” Jason explained a little more, really not wanting to have to knock the girl out too just to get the two to a safe area if he could help it.

The way the girl’s eyes opened, a horrified gasp escaping her, told Jason she wasn’t a bad person. Or at least reinforced what their actions aside from theft had suggested. That was the reaction of someone who realized they’d made a mistake, and felt the weight bearing down from the mess that had been caused because of it. She stopped trying to fight Jason now, pulling away and rushing to the 5th member’s side, grabbing his limp arm and hooking it around her own shoulders to try and lift him up.

“Is he safe to move?” Jason asked, stepping forward to help. Even though the lad looked fairly small, he was still too heavy for the girl judging by how she was struggling to even get him upright. “His spine isn’t hurt? No broken bones?” he asked to clarify when the girl looked at him with a question half voiced.

“No. Nothing broken, just the-” she confirmed, cutting off when Jason reached forward and effortlessly scooped the frail teen up.

“Hold onto my back. We’re going that way,” Jason directed, ignoring the way she tensed, holding herself back from demanding he not touch her friend, and nodding towards the window.

“WhAT?” the girl sputtered, hands jerking as she internally wrestled with being obedient to him or her own sense of self preservation.

“We’re out of time. Just grab on,” Jason half snapped, roughly kicking the window to shatter the glass, twisting his frame to shield the lad in his arms as well, just in case. “One minute,” he added, repeating what Barbara announced in his comms to reinforce his directions.

It was enough. Pursing her lips and giving a soft whimper the girl rushed forward to throw her arms around his shoulders from behind, clinging to him with a death grip. Jason wished he had a better way to carry both of them, but he hadn’t been expecting there to be two of them in the first place. So he could only hope the girl’s grip was strong enough to hang on as he shot a zip line towards where the others were gathered. After getting the other end secured to the building they were in, Jason latched the clip on the rope and swung over the fire escape, curling his legs up to make sure the lad he was carrying had plenty of support. He could hear a muffled, drawn out squeak from the girl on his back, but didn’t comment.

“Wh- Ja- DANNY! LET HIM GO YOU-” the mid teenage girl caught sight of them first, snarling and trashing against her restraints when she saw who Jason had. Cass refused to let her go though, pulling her back to kneeling and considering pushing her down further if necessary. She didn’t get to finish her protests though.

“HEADS DOWN!” Dick shouted after Barbara announced a second to detonation, and those who had capes were throwing them over their targets and each other, hunching over to bodily protect them from the cascades of blasts ripping through the apartment building the Phantoms had been stationed in. They were far enough away that they shouldn’t get hurt from the collapsing rubble, but there was still the possibility of smaller debris getting thrown at them. So they remained huddled on the ground a safe distance away until the rubble settled, and only when it stopped shifting did they stand again.

“Oracle, status on the inbound units?” Dick was the first to speak, the others giving sighs of relief and partially relaxing.

The two middle teenage children had quieted significantly after the explosion, the boy looking at the rubble in shock as he realized they would have been caught in it if it weren't for the group of vigilantes that had captured them. And the girl held a similar period of stunned silence before she started kicking at Cass again. “Get off me! Get your filthy hands off Danny!”

“Sam, it’s okay.” The eldest girl spoke with a shaking voice, slipping off Jason’s back and leaning her head against him in a moment of despair. Cass’s hand froze where it had been about to knock out chop her feisty captive, blinking and looking up instead. So the middle teen’s name was Sam? And the unconscious lad was Danny?

“The meta is waking up. Should I dose her again?” That was Damian, keeping an eye on the youngest Phantom. She was starting to stir, but the eldest Phantom spoke up before the others could.

“Don’t. Please. They’ve been through enough. Just please bring her over here, I’ll manage her,” the eldest girl directed. Her voice was still shaking, but it had steadied somewhat after Jason had turned slightly while remaining crouched to allow her to sit next to their 5th member, her hand resting on his cheek as she was gathering the breaking pieces of her determination.

Stephanie and Cass only exchanged looks with each other, and also Dick and Tim, before Jason spoke up. “Just bring her over. She might be more docile when she’s near this one.”

They didn’t seem completely convinced, but Stephanie at least complied, moving to crouch on one knee with the youngest girl while Damian hovered nearby with another dose of sedatives.

“You’re doing the right thing kid. When the cops get here with the paramedics they’ll get Danny taken care of. You don’t have to worry,” Jason encouraged the eldest girl, grateful that she was getting her team to behave.

“They can’t take him,” she rejected, catching the rest off guard.

“What? Look if it’s about money don’t worry, it’ll be taken care of,” Jason insisted, hoping it wasn’t because of a different possibility he was quickly starting to consider. He’d thought it was just his imagination, but Danny was unusually cold to the touch. Almost like ice. There was another common reason he knew people avoided hospitals despite being this injured.

The eldest girl shook her head again. “It’s not that it’s….” she paused, seeming both reluctant to tell them but also not sure how to tell them what was going on. She wasn’t even sure what was wrong. But when the youngest teen groaned and started to shift the eldest looked at her and found her answer. “Danny is like Danielle. Doctors can’t help them. They’re too different.”

That’s what Jason thought, but it didn’t mean he wanted to hear it, and it earned an understanding but frustrated groan from him and some of the others. “Shit. Alright,“ Dick took charge of the situation, hissing slightly and reaching to his own comms. “Oracle, where’s the nearest safe house? The 5th member is another potential meta, unconscious, and heavy bandaging over the whole torso. Can you contact home and have Penny-one or The Doctor on standby?”

As Dick took care of directing the team, Jason took care of keeping their tentative ally willing to listen to them. “We might have some contacts that can help. We have friends that also need more attention that the regular doctor can give them. Do you kids have names we can use?”

It was more of a lead than they’d had since they’d gotten stranded there, so the eldest teen seemed hesitant but hopeful to grab onto it. After a moment of thinking, her other hand reaching out to Danielle as she started to blink her eyes open, she responded. “My name is Jazz. This is my little brother Danny, my little sister Dani with an I, and our friends Sam and Tucker.”

“... Your parents gave your little siblings the same name?” Jason couldn’t help asking after hearing the relationships. That also explained a lot about why Jazz had been so frantically protective of Danny, aside from her being the oldest of the group.

“It’s… a long story,” Jazz admitted, grimacing a little. “Danielle… was unexpected.”

Looked like Jazz didn’t quite trust them enough. That was fine, they didn’t need a whole backstory right off. Oracle could probably figure it out easily now that she had names and relations. “Fair enough,” Jason dismissed with a grunt, ending his conversation as Dick approached them.

“Hey. There’s a whole mess of stuff going on, I know, but right now we’re going to focus on making sure everyone is taken care of, and then we can figure out the rest of the mess later, okay?” Dick started, leaning low with his hands on his knees and speaking gently. “The police and paramedics can take care of the criminals that were hunting you, but since he’s a special case we’re going to move to a different location where we’ll give everyone a check up. Sound good?”

Jazz didn’t jump at the offer, but they could see she saw promise in it, and hesitantly nodded. “My friends and I stay together at all times. Got it?” she demanded.

“Sure,” Dick agreed, not seeing any issue with that. “But we’ll keep the restraints on if necessary, alright? You all still have charges of assault after all.”

It was easy to see Jazz’s expression fall significantly at the reminder, as though her soul had been slightly crushed. “Yeah… okay,” she agreed, swallowing some nausea that had churned her stomach at being reminded they were criminals. Then, before Danielle could fuss too much, Jazz turned to rest a hand on the small girl’s arm. “Dani, these guys have agreed to help us. So behave and don’t pick any fights unless I say otherwise, alright?”

The fist that Danielle had prepared to punch her holder didn’t move, and after a moment Danielle groaned in reluctant relent. “Guhhhh can I at least punch the guy who drugged me? I feel awful.”

The comment earned a weak chuckle from Jazz, and she patted Danielle’s arm. “I’ll think about it. Just rest for now. We’re moving to a safe place.” She hoped she wasn’t lying to Danielle, and that these people would actually, finally give them the help they needed.

________________

I guess I go here now =v=;;;

Partially inspired by this post. But not including everything because there's a lot of stuff I don't understand. |D This just got stuck in my head so hard I couldn't work on anything else.

[greenglowinspooks]

Honestly I think the fics where Danny’s a Kryptonian have a lot of potential, so here’s me throwing my hat into the ring

Danny was born a human. He was born to two loving (though slightly neglectful) human parents in the painfully mundane state of Illinois.

Then, he died, but he didn’t do it right. He became a Halfa; too alive to be a ghost, but too dead to be human.

Then, through strange, uncontrollable circumstances, that changed as well.

He had been heavily injured, missing a large percentage of body mass, and was at the cusp of either dying fully or just fading from existence.

(Perhaps it was an ordinary fight. Perhaps it was the GiW, or his parents. Perhaps it was a simple accident. That didn’t matter now.)

He fled, phasing through the ground, trying to bury himself as deep as possible.

(Perhaps he didn’t want to be unmasked in death. Perhaps that was already too late, and he just wanted his body be able to rest in peace.)

Unfortunately for him, he was in Metropolis, and ended up in a secret genetics lab below the earth.

Danny detransformed, completely exhausted, falling onto a table covered in different labeled specimen containers. He closed his eyes, and prepared himself for what would happen next.

And… nothing.

Slowly, cautiously, he opened his eyes.

Danny sat up, brushing off the foul-smelling liquid from the specimen jars, petri dishes, and assorted vials.

He felt…fine.

No, better than fine. He felt normal. Healthy.

He felt like he wasn’t missing most of his internal organs anymore.

Danny looked down at his stomach, and saw that the wounds that were killing him had completely disappeared.

(The blood blossoms, if there had been any, were still there, but they no longer hurt. At most, they itched a little, or maybe just tickled a bit.)

He wanted to question what in the hell had just happened, but he didn’t want to jinx it. He just quietly changed back to Phantom, going invisible and phasing out of wherever he had found himself in, ignoring the loud alarm system that had begun to blare when he broke the samples on that table.

Life mostly went back to normal after that.

If, like Danny, you ignored all the physical changes in a valiant effort to remain in denial that something was horribly wrong.

His skin was tougher, now; he didn’t get scrapes or cuts, even when he accidentally fumbled a knife while trying to cook. His ghost form was stronger, too; he was barely knocked down by his old rogues anymore.

He could fly, even in his human form. Though, admittedly, the flight was much different. It was like using a muscle he hadn’t known existed beforehand. He didn’t just ignore gravity or wind resistance, though he felt more graceful in the air now than he ever did as Phantom.

There were more powers popping up, lasers and cold breath, x-ray vision and super strength. His lungs and heart were larger, and he could handle temperatures much easier. He didn’t have to transform to handle the pressure and cold of space anymore.

His reaction time had improved, becoming much faster than ever before. His senses were much stronger, and he had even seemed to gain a sense of electric fields, like a shark.

The only thing that separated him from a Kryptonian was that he had developed electrokenesis, which he had never seen any of them use on TV.

So, surely, he was fine.

Everything was normal, he hadn’t been transformed by alien DNA in a sketchy lab, he had just had a really weird and specific metagene activation.

—

Clark Kent, Kal-El, was panicking.

It had been around a month and a half since a particularly brutal fight between Intergang and an unknown assailant, and it seemed that Intergang was determined to draw out whoever had scorned them.

Their method of doing this, of course, was trying to level the city.

He and Jon were doing their best to stop them, but with both Kon and Zor-El away on their own business, it was difficult.

And by difficult, he meant almost impossible.

Slowly but surely he was driving them back, but not without massive amounts of damage to the city, especially with only Jon on dedicated rescuing duty.

He was distracted, trying to draw a group away from a heavily occupied building, when a projectile hit him in the back of the head.

The world spun for a moment, and then it went black.

(It was, probably, then, some sort of Kryptonite-metal alloy. Intergang at its finest.)

He woke slowly, forcing his eyes open. He felt like he had been hit by an eighteen wheeler.

Clark jolted up, preparing for the worst.

To his shock, though, the city hadn’t been reduced to rubble while he was out.

Jon seemed to still be working on evacuation, either unaware that he had went down or forcing himself to focus on the task at hand.

Then, a lightning-quick figure flew into view, and Clark’s mind went blank.

He thought, for a moment, that Kara was back. But, no, that wasn’t right, she was supposed to be off-planet for another week or so.

Besides, this new figure didn’t move like her. They were lankier and more slender, and they flew quicker than any member of his family.

Their powerset was different, too; they focused mainly on using blasts of ice and electricity to drive enemies back, only occasionally using their strength or lasers—ones which came from their hands instead of their eyes.

He had woken up at the tail end of the fight, it seemed. The remaining Intergang members were fleeing from the mysterious metahuman.

They stayed in the sky, motionless, watching them leave.

As if they could sense him staring, they turned.

They were small, still clearly young. Probably around Kon’s age, or maybe even younger.

Instead of the colorful clothing he had inherited from his family, the stranger wore black and white clothes which looked similar to a hazmat suit, their face covered by some sort of gas mask.

Interestingly enough, instead of the S-shape crest that he was so used to seeing, the stranger wore the letter D on his chest.

Kal’s heart sped up.

From up in the sky, he heard the stranger’s heart, on the left instead of the right, speed up in return.

But before he could say a word to them, they sped off, disappearing into the deep blue sky.

[fanfic-obsessed]

Feral Tim

I have found I have a great love for Feral Tim Drake. This is a Tim Drake who has built his own moral code in an echoing, empty house and tracking vigilantes across rooftops. First it should be noted that Tim’s loyalty is tied closer to Robin than it is to Batman.  That his motivation for blackmailing Bruce to become Robin was more toward saving Robin’s Dad and Robin’s legacy than saving Batman. 

Little Tim Drake is Obsessively, Desperately, Dangerously protective of the Robin legacy and his predecessor Robins, particularly Robin #2 Jason Todd.  It becomes well known in Gotham, really quickly that it is not a good idea to insult Robin while Robin #3 is around.  

As always, I have no idea what is cannon here.

Like, if you insult Robin #3 to his face, you will get a laugh and an agreement-He will still stop you from your crimes but you won’t end up extra hurt. If you insult Robin in general, Robin #3 will be more aggressive in taking you down and you will get some extra bruises. If you insult Robin #1, you can expect at least one additional broken bone, which bone depends on the insult. However if you insult Robin #2, Robin #3 will bite and he will bite to the bone; you will be mauled and chances are Batman will have to pull Robin #3 off you. 

Count of Bites, before all of Gotham got the point: 4 low level criminals, 3 civilians (all of which were drunk, belligerent, and woke up the next day confused about their injuries), no less than 16 assorted Goons, and The Penguin. 

I want you to take a moment to picture Batman, who got a bit less violent after getting Robin #3 but got substantially less violent because he had to be a tired dad prying his little gremlin’s jaws off The Penguin. Everyone is distinctly uncomfortable with Batman apologizing to The Penguin. 

So Gothamites, no matter the type, learned that one does not insult Robin #2 ever. In fact avoid insulting Robins, unless you are specific enough to be insulting Robin #3 (Though they would not have cause to know for several more years, this protectiveness extended to both Robin #4, the girl Robin, and Robin # 5, the Stabby Robin). Batman gets less violent by virtue of now chasing after a child with negative fear responses (Seriously, Scarecrow once dosed him with his latest fear gas and Robin #3 did not even appear to notice). Gotham, as a whole (Goons, Civilians, all of the other Rogues, other vigilantes) and without consulting each other, decides that Robin #3 and The Joker cannot ever meet. There is a herculean, sustained effort by all of the Rogues and Goons to keep the Joker distracted until Batman can send Robin away whenever the Joker breaks out. Consensus is that no one quite knows which will come out victorious, but there would be substantial damage. Also, Robin would end up biting the Joker and no one is sure what the Joker’s blood would do to him.

We fast forward to Red Hood taking over Crime Alley. He does not notice but the first time he ranted about Robin every one of his subordinates, plus the three Black Mask Goons in the room, flinches. They all relax when it becomes clear that the Robin Red Hood takes offense to is Robin #3.   No one quite knows how to tell Red Hood that, for his health, he should stop insulting Robins (there had never been any real discussion about it). Black Mask and Ivy, at separate times, try to awkwardly pass on the warning but did not quite get the message across (there really is no way to phrase “The tiny child in the traffic light colors is dangerous and will do you actual damage if you disparage his personal hero, the dead Robin”). 

As soon as it got around that Red Hood hunts Robins, with Robin #3 specifically being a target, Batman does ship him out to Titan Tower at once, but not for the reason that Red Hood thinks.  It is not actually to protect Robin, not really. It’s because Batman has figured out that Red Hood was once Jason, and he knows down to his bones that Tim’s moral compass stays on this side of the killing line because he believes that both Jason and Dick would have a problem with him killing.  If he finds out that Jason, the preferred of the two, is ok with killing, that line goes out the window.  And then Batman is going to need to put Robin on a child leash. 

So Red Hood goes to attack a Robin far from the nest and it starts about how he expected. He got in a few good hits, and his replacement actually does have some decent moves. Then Jason makes a disparaging remark about ‘the Robin that died’ that, had he been allowed to finish his sentence, would have circled back around to insulting Tim. However he was not allowed to finish his sentence because instead of fighting on human teen, he was suddenly fighting some kind of demon (metaphorically), who in between mauling him (and how the fuck is this kid biting through kevlar, Jason would like to know) is screaming about how Red Hood was not allowed to talk about Tim’s Robin like that. 

For a few moments Red Hood gets to realize Robin is not locked in with him, he is locked in with Robin.  Then one of Robin’s attacks pulls off the helmet (no bombs at this time, thankfully). As soon as Tim sees Jason’s face he stops attacking and hugs him tightly, babbling about how good it is to see him alive and apologizing for attacking him as Tim thought it was just some villain being disrespectful.  Tim pulls him through to the med bay to treat his injuries. 

While Jason is being treated, and they wait for the lockdown to lift, Jason is struck by the realization that if he even implied he wanted it, Tim would go try to collect the Joker’s head for him.  This is quickly followed by the terrifying realization that Jason is 45% of this child’s moral compass (With Dick being about 30% with the remaining 25% being all Tim). 

The Pit Rage is practically running from this level of crazy. 

Jason finds himself escorting Tim back to the Cave, with Jason low key panicking.  While there is some sympathy in the form of Dick, it turns out that Dick and Tim have a similar way of thinking (except where Tim imprinted on the two Robins, Dick imprinted on Bruce and Alfred) and the same recklessness. It’s Bruce that Jason finds himself bonding with (Is Jason weirded out by the fact that, of his siblings, Jason-with his supernaturally enhanced anger and the bag of heads- is the most stable? Yes, Yes it does) as he desperately tries to keep Tim from doing damage (both physical and psychic) other people.

[frootertooter]

Random assortment of Rogues! The Podcast doodles

how the hell do u draw Ed

[mothsandbees]

assorted rogue trader memes for your viewing pleasure

[fancyfeathers]

Eat Your Young

Yandere!Batboys as Villains with Robin!Darlings AU Masterlist

What if the Batboys never became Robins and like their darlings being the sidekicks of Batman while they fell down darker paths instead…

-Intro Post (Yandere!Dick Grayson, Yandere!Jason Todd, Yandere!Tim Drake, Yandere!Damian Al Ghul)

-Ringmaster (Yandere!Dick Grayson)

-Yandere!Jason Todd’s & Yandere!Damian Al Ghul’s darlings being biological sisters

-Yandere!Jason Todd’s darling dying and being brought back by Yandere!Damian Al Ghul & Thoughts of Yandere!Tim Drake stalking his darling & Yandere Dick Grayson thoughts

-Yandere!Damian Al Ghul encountering his darling’s mother who is a vigilante

-The Fruits (Yandere!Damian Al Ghul)

-Yandere!Tim Drake meeting his darling

-Yandere!Tim Drake’s wedding with his darling

-Yandere!Tim Drake betraying his darling

-Yandere!Tim Drake’s darling plotting revenge

-Bruce Wayne with his baby birds (non-yandere)

-Yandere!Damian Al Ghul’s darling becoming Batgirl & what if she became Oracle’s sidekick

-Red Wine and Bullet Holes (Yandere!Jason Todd) -Creepy Yandere!Dick Grayson thoughts -Pomegranates (Yandere!Damian Al Ghul) +18 -Assorted thoughts about the Batboys (kidnapping, futures) -Road to Hell (Yandere!Damian Al Ghul) -Yandere!Damian Al Ghul's children -Superman & Batwoman (Yandere!Damian Al Ghul & Jon Kent)

-Yandere!Dick Grayson helping his darling perform -Yandere!Batboys and their children -Good!Rogues Gallery in the AU

-Talon For Your Head (Yandere!Tim Drake)

[numerous-knives]

An assortment of Rogue Trader characters as text posts (and other text): Part 2

Still more incoming. Why did I make so many of these?

Part 1

Part 3

[worldofstoriesanddreams]

Is there an age limit chapter 3 - Christmas edition

Wrapped in a straitjacket, his utility belt and every gadget stripped away, Batman pulled himself up to a sitting position and scanned the room. 

Across the room, Superman was sweating bullets — his face as green as the kryptonite handcuffs that chained him to the wall.

Wonder Woman, in the WayneTech Virtual Reality suit, was in her own world, fighting imaginary battles, unaware of their plight.

Green Lantern was trapped in a yellow cube.

In the agency cage of fire, Martian Manhatter had lost his humanoid form — incapacitated by terror.

Green Arrow without his arrows. Black Canary was gagged and had a metapower inhibiter collar around her neck. Both of them were in straitjackets, unable to escape.

Flash was trapped in a containment field which severed his connection to the Speed Force.

A bald man in a lab coat, calling himself the Master of the World, taunted the Dark Knight with empty boxes that once contained Batman’s contingency plans and resources he had prepared to take down each and every member of the Justice League, should the need arise.

Checking his watch, he announced. “It’s 3pm. Time for Captain Marvel to show up to save his friends.”

He loaded a gun with bullets from the box with Captain Marvel’s lightning on it. These bullets were made of pure lead — deadly to Daxamites. 

“Why put one into his shoulder when I can shoot all of them into his heart?” The villain cackled.

Batman’s contingency plans were never meant to kill. They were to neutralise members of the Justice League when they are under mind control or go rogue, or otherwise become a threat to humanity.

Captain Marvel crashed to the roof, landing in front of the villain.

“Release them,” said the Big Red Cheese.

Click

“Duck,” Batman growled. “Pure lead bullets!”

Bang! 

Bang! 

Bang! 

Bang!

Bang! 

Bang! 

Captain Marvel didn’t flinch as the flurry of bullets struck his chest, bouncing off without leaving a scratch.

“My turn,” he tapped the villain’s shiny head, knocking him unconscious.

He looked at the boxes with their insignias and stared at Batman. His eyes blazed with anger while his smile dropped as he scrutinised Batman. 

“Is this what I think it is?” Disappointment coloured his voice.

“Hm.” Batman glared back.

“Then you’ll know how to free them,” Captain Marvel’s brilliant smile returned as he ripped open the straitjacket, releasing Batman.

So he’s not Kryptonian. He’s not Daxamite.

What was he?

*

Back in the Watchtower, the atmosphere turned chilly. Every hero gave him the cold shoulder. They should. In their line of work, it was unwise to trust so easily. A certain level of paranoia was essential for survival.

Martian Manhunter sat in the break room, still shaken by his exposure to fire. He refused to look at Batman.

“Have some milk and cookies,” Captain Marvel walked in with a tray.  It held a plate piled high with an assortment of chocolate cookies with cream centres, and two glasses of milk. “This really helps after a tough day.” 

The alarm went off. 

There was yet another alien invasion.

Did the various alien races have some kind of time table to invade the earth on a monthly basis?

The screen showed an armada of fiery spaceships that covered all visible space. His sensors showed each ship exuded flames with heat that rivalled the sun’s core.

“Hold this," he handed the tray to Batman.

Captain Marvel beamed, “I call dibs on this invasion.”

A blur of red cleared the sky of the fiery orbs in a blink of an eye.

The Captain was back in the room, with another mug of milk in hand. “Join us for milk and cookies?” He beamed at Batman.

*

It was the night before Christmas. Batman hadn’t a clue who or what Captain Marvel really was. He was only available outside elementary school hours, so he had to be an elementary school teacher, but the bat computer scanned the photos of every elementary school teacher in the country but couldn’t match any of them with the elusive Captain.

As he retired for the night, he noticed milk and cookies laid out near the entrance of each home. Even his own children would set out milk and cookies for Santa Claus before they go to bed on Christmas Eve. 

He looked at the chimneys. Santa was known to enter homes through chimneys. Some fireplaces were still burning, so Santa had to be flame proof.

In one single night, Santa visits every home in the entire world, delivering presents to those who have been good, and coal to those who have been naughty. Bruce knew. Ever since he started those contingency plans to take down every one of his team mates, he had been getting a coal in his stocking every Christmas.

The clues fell in place.

Captain Marvel loves milk and cookies.

He’s great with the kids.

He’s flame proof, which meant, going down the chimney while the fire is still burning wouldn’t bother him.

He moves so fast, he could visit every home in the world in one night.

The way he looked at Batman after seeing the contingency boxes in use, reminded him of how his dad would look at Bruce when he was naughty.

That bright red suit and white cape - same red as Santa's suit. Same white as the trimmings.

The perpetual smile. 

The Captain’s favourite catchphrase — “Holy Moley” — “Ho Ho Ho.”

Of course.

He knew Captain Marvel’s real identity.

Captain Marvel is Santa Claus!