#DC has made more than enough of it all on their own and its all equally horrifying

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC X DP Fanfic idea: It's all Fun and Games Kids!

Danny Fenton moves to Gotham.

He moved there not because his parents ran him out of the house. His dad was bawling and begging him to stay while his mother spent three full days writing up different graphs to show how much safer was by nearing by so they could protect him.

(It's not like he still lived with them. Danny had moved out to his own place in amity when he was twenty-five. Moving clear across state lines wasn't much of a difference in his eyes)

He moved there, not because the ectoplasm was high. Ectoplasm is everywhere on Earth, and quite frankly, Gotham's was as polluted as its water was. It made the air spicy.

He moved there not because he was offered an amazing job or a life-changing opportunity. Danny's full-time job was writing novels. They were all based on his adventures in the Ghost Zone -with changed names of course- and were a hit online. He also had all of the Ghost King's gold.

He moved there simply because Danny wanted to.

Something about the city called to him, in a way that said "Hey this could be your home." He visited once for a Humpty Dumpty concert and fell in love with the sights, the people, and the life of Gotham.

Now some people would accuse him of being mad. Those people probably had a rebellious teenage stage where they had done crazy things like sneak out of the house, underage drink, sleeping around, or smoke something.

Danny, when he was a teenager, was fighting for his life and the lives of the ungrateful townspeople.

He didn't get to his rebellious stage. He didn't get his rush of doing something stupid because he was young and thought himself bigger than life.

So here Danny is, living his life as he pleases to make up for it.

He doesn't have to sneak out of his house since he owns it, he rather not drink or smoke (would they even affect him? His healing factor has never been tested against it) and Danny would like to be emotionally attached if he decided to sleep with someone.

What then does a man with too much time, too much power, and not enough bad young person decisions do?

He flirts with Death.

Death just so happens to be Batman-shaped.

Now it's all fun and games. He knows he doesn't have a real chance with Batman- it's Batman. Way out of Danny's league.- but that doesn't mean he can allow himself to fall into stupid situations and be dramatically rescued by the crime fighter.

Now if only his kids weren't so good at their jobs.

"You really should be more careful, Mr. Fenton. This is the third time this week" Nightwing says while untieing him. Danny does his best not to pout at the other. He had been having fun finding the answers to the riddles.

He wasn't at all worried about the fact he was placed over a pool of burning chemicals. He had been tried to a chair that was carefully balanced on overlapping ropes. It wire would snap with each correct answer, until he would fall his demise unless they could outsmart the Riddler.

Danny had gotten five out of ten correct before Nightwing burst through the ceiling.

"I don't mind," Danny says rubbing his wrists. "Better me than someone innocent."

Nightwing's lips purse "You are innocent."

"Yes, but I hardly matter in the grand scheme of things." Danny waves his hand missing the look of distress on the hero's face. He looks around the darkness of the ceiling hoping to spot a certain crouching figure.

"Is Tall Dark and Daddy here with you?" He asks Nightwing when he fails to see him.

"Please don't call him that."

Danny shrugs, suppressing his smile. He twirls back around to Nightwing pulling out a piece of paper from his jean's pocket. "By the way, I found the other victims, hid them in the cellar, and drew a of map of Riddle's bombs for you. You're welcome."

Nightwing stares before carefully taking the map. He taps his ear twice, muttering in a code- for that may be English but sounded like gibberish that it can not be anything else but code- and only after he hears a voice respond back does the hero give a strained smile. "Thank you, Mr. Fenton. This helps a lot."

"You're welcome!" He repeats with a bright smile. It's so odd for his efforts to be appreciated. Odd but nice.

Danny waits for the other to do his Bat-trained disappearing act- sometimes he wonders if Gotham gave her Knights a form of invisibility- but the man remains.

He shuffles his feet uncomfortable and Danny's eyes light up. Oh! Another attempt to get him to stop flirting with his father. What fun~!

"Mr. Fenton.....last week Red Robin rescued you from the Joker. Do you remember?"

"Yes. Red Robin is a great kid."

"A kid....weird for you to call him that when he's only a few years younger than you." Nightwing starts but Danny holds up a hand.

"I'm older than you"

There is a tight frown on the other man's face now. "You are not."

"I am." Danny pulls out his wallet flashing his ID card. The downside to his Ghostly powers is that he seems to be aging at a slower rate- at least physically. His parents theorized that he would take two years instead of the one that his aging required. Not an accurate number but the closest they had especially since both his parents were late bloomers and had baby face.

While Danny might be thirty-eight he appeared to be no older than nineteen.

"Mr. Fenton I don't think you should be carrying a fake-"

"Stay away from my father Harlot!" Robin screeches falling down from the shadows above. He points a very sharp sword at Danny's neck, sneering the whole time. "He has better things to do than rescue a love-struck worthless fool!"

Danny, leans on the top of the sword, eyes drinking into Robin's slight flinch when it cuts his skin a little. This is it. The Rush he had been craving for.

"I don't mean to be kidnapped Robin honest. It just sort of happens in Gotham." He makes his voice and body innocent in a way even Orphan can not tell he is lying. He knows because Clockwork confirmed the last time they met that the girl read his body language just as he wanted her to.

The two ghosts met up regularly to watch his overly "sweet" eyes fluttering and cheerful "Oh Batman you rescued me~!" performances together for a good laugh.

"You lie! You plan for this to happen to try and seduce my Father!"

Huh. The kid was smarter then his foul mouth and snobby behavior looked. Still Danny only had to twist his face into confusion for Nightwing to step in. The other vigilantes pulled the scowling child away, scolding him for harassing frightened civilians.

It was fun to see but nothing beat making polite come-ons to Batman- nothing gross like catcalling but more of overly thankful and dreamy sighs. Maybe he should see what Two-face is up to?

Surely the man would take him hostage and Batman's many children would be too busy to save him thus leading the Dark Knight himself to come to his aid.

Or in a world where Danny Fenton decides that it would be hilarious if he took on a Brucie Wayne persona in Gotham. Complete with a Heart-eyes-it's-beefy-Batman mentality that tricks the Batfam into thinking he is a Himbo who has bad luck for always getting caught up in villain schemes for being at the wrong place and wrong time.

Also, the Bat kids make it their life goal to keep Bruce from rescuing Danny since they do not like watching Fenton flirt with their dad. Even if Bruce himself ignores the boy they can't really threaten him.

Danny Fenton isn't being malicious or anything. He's just a boy with a crush who doesn't know better.

Clockwork is cackling, recording his favorite parts of Danny's interactions with the Bats.

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x DC AU: Danny didn't want to rely on his rogues, but Tucker's computer skills only got them so far and if the media black out continues... Danny knows it's not going to be pretty for them. Nightmares begin to plague the Justice League.

---

Danny gets back from a shitty conversation with Clockwork and in his frustration, accidentally sets off one of the new GIW sensors that his parents allowed to be installed in the lab. Their collaboration seemed to be going no where but when Danny had new holes blasted through him... it must be going somewhere. Damn it.

The commotion is loud enough that Jazz hears it from her room above the lab (he knows she listens to more than just the lab... it's cause she cares, even if it is a bit invasive.) and rushes in to play the distraction while Danny gets away. This time it works- the Drs. Fenton might have the worst aim in the city but they demand all shots cease if a civilian is nearby- Next time his mom might be aiming her gun at him and not the ground. Danny decides he'll buy Jazz a coffee on his way home.

But first, new holes. Yikes. That like, needs medical attention- He heads to Tucker's place and he's pretty sure Sam is already there.

"Danny! What the fuck, did Clockwork-" She starts, her meticulous cat eyeliner making her glare all the deeper.

"Nah, it's the stupid GIW sensor, the stupid one I told you guys about that has a spring lose in the back?"

"I thought we decided those weren't a concern?" Tucker looks him over, face covered in undisguised and very blatant concern.

"Yeah well, Clocky pissed me off so I forgot about them when I came back in through the lab portal-"

"you were supposed to be practicing making your own." Sam interrupts.

"-And when I did, the thing got knocked and I was swatted like immediately. Jazz launched herself into the lab so Mom made them stop shooting and it gave me enough time to get out." Danny continued to explain, ignoring his friend's 'i told you so' faces.

"Dude. We're pushing it close this week. Sam already had a confrontation with the lab guys and I already got blacklisted on my new persona accounts. We're like seriously threading the needle for getting caught." Tucker, pulls his glasses down to pinch the bridge of his nose and Danny and Sam both get what he's really saying. They need to lie low.

"What did CW say to piss you off?" Sam asks after a silent moment.

"He said nothing really, just like he always does, but insinuated I should try getting a rogue to help." Danny sighs.

"What, Like getting Ember to announce the GIW invasion on her tour? We already agreed that-" Sam is getting angry as she speaks so Tuck cuts her off- "It's a bad Idea. She is- They are all just as likely to get captured and hurt as you are if you go out of town." He comes to the same conclusion they've agreed on for weeks. No rogue involvement.

"Maybe we just need to sleep on it... Hey... wait." Danny sighs, but then his gears start to turn.

"Nocturn. We need Nocturn to help us. He can get the message out through dreams." Danny comes to the new conclusion and his friends look hesitant but at least like they're considering it.

"Isn't he an ancient? He's not going to help us for free." Tucker, ever the Egyptian god in these moments.

"Most people don't take their dreams literally." Sam, ever the skeptic in these moments.

"Yeah but, if they dream it enough times, and they're the right people to do something... they can look it up and then at least see that there is a problem?" Danny sounds hopeful and its the first time he's sounded that way in months.

"What, you're gunna give Batman nightmares?" Tucker snickers but Sam looks inspired.

"That's exactly what he's going to do. We need to haunt the Justice League. They'll see past the fake facade the GIW put up online and they'll be able to get the right legislation passed." Sam is practically buzzing.

"Okay, so lets get scheming- What do you get the primordial beast of the unconscious? Should I google 'what to get someone who has everything'? " Danny laughs.

_____

Bruce and his children rarely do feelings when they have breakfast in the morning after a night of separate patrols, but it seems as though the room is plagued with unease. Tim looks about as tired as ever, so his unease is probably attributable to WE board meetings, but its unlike the rest of his children to be so... disturbed. For some reason, after Alfred has excused them all from eating more than a few nibbles, they make it to the cave. Bruce is glad for the noise his children bring.

The nightmare's he's been having are following a dark plot. A town, a boy who looks like he was kin, and so, so much death. Bruce has had vivid dreams before in life, but this nightmare is... unreal. He tries to remind himself that it's just a nightmare.

When his JL emergency communicator goes off at the computer desk, he's not expecting it to be Dinah Lance. She and her Birds are typically wary of him in Gotham, even if they work well together in the League. He answers it like he would any Batman call, with silence.

"Bats, we have a problem. Any chance you've been having weird dreams about a kid getting experimented on or a town being burned down? Ghosts? Lazarus portals?" Dinah sounds exhausted, but Bruce snaps to her voice with rapt attention. As do all of his children.

"I-" Bruce takes a look around the room, everyone's heads except for Tim's nodding up and down with distress," We all have."

"Something tells me that they whole JL is. Everyone I've talked to this week has had a variation of the same dream. We either have a telepath trying to tell us something, or something even worse than that."

"I'll call emergency meeting, we need to collect details and try to determine the complete message."

"I'll send you what I've noted down so far, sans personal details of course, it's definitely in a town called Amity Park though. My client this morning saw the sign."

Batman grunts and the call ends. It's time to get to work.

----

When the Justice League finally arrives, the town is glowing, and everything feels like... sleep. smothering. snoring. smoking. smoldering.

And then, despite the exhaustion that echos within them, the trudge onwards. The noise of laser guns certainly wakes them up a bit.

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) Drowning in formaldehyde (Pt. 1)

—

Tw: one instance of canon-typical violence (DC), vivisection mention

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Prologue) - (Pt. 2)

(Subscription post/masterlist)

—

Danny has been working for Mr. Cobblepot for over a month now.

The first few weeks he was in the Penguin’s company, he couldn’t do much of anything. Instead, Mr. Cobblepot made sure that he was well-rested and beginning to recover.

Danny cried a lot in the first week that he was there.

He cried when he ate for the first time in years; the GiW had kept him on IVs and a feeding tube, so they wouldn’t have to move him from his surgical table.

He cried when he was given his own room to stay in, when he was brought clothes to wear, when he was given a bodyguard to protect him.

He cried when Mr. Cobblepot’s doctors told him that the damage to his vocal chords was likely permanent, and that he would never sound the same again. That he would find it hard to speak at any volume above a whisper.

Apparently, he had a lot more damage to him than he had thought.

The doctors said that the scarring in his brain stem suggested his entire brain had been removed and had regrown. Danny couldn’t really disprove that, and it did line up with a pretty substantial gap in his memory, but if that was the case then why couldn’t his voice recover too?

The scarring and incredibly new tissue that showed up in scans of several other parts of his body suggested that the GiW had done the same thing with most of his organs, as well as a few limbs, and all of the fingers on his right hand.

Danny could remember that. He just didn’t want to.

Perhaps it was the feeling of pity that kept Mr. Cobblepot so understanding of Danny’s slow recovery. That didn’t really matter much, though; Danny’s energy was focused on keeping his place here, ensuring that Mr. Cobblepot didn’t decide he was no longer worth the effort.

As it turned out, there was an easy enough solution to that.

Danny was the only one who knew how to properly operate and modify the weapons and inventions stolen from the GiW.

And so, Danny had a niche he could occupy. He could be useful, useful enough that Mr. Cobblepot couldn’t get rid of him, even if he wanted to.

And, as it turns out, Danny remembered quite a lot of the theories he heard while he was on the cutting board.

As soon as he had enough muscle control of his arms to do so, he was working away at the machinery created by the GiW and his parents.

No, not his parents.

Doctors Madeleine and Jack Fenton.

Regardless of their creators, he was able to understand them quite intimately.

Maybe it was because the ectoplasm flowing through the weaponry was his own, maybe it was because he had nothing to listen to for three years other than the excited chatter of his vivisectionists as they cut him open. Maybe it was because they were both simple weaponry without a purpose.

Danny found working on the machines soothing in a way that nothing else was.

The smell of oil and grease, the sounds of mechanical clanking and metal joints squealing, the feeling of cold steel beneath his fingertips.

The first thing he did to the machines was replacing the paint, from shiny white to a matte black. That way, they were recognizable as his own modified creations.

It was only a bonus that he didn’t catch his reflection in the metal surfaces this way.

Still, his reflection was starting to become more familiar to him. It was still strangely off-putting to see, but his face was beginning to plump out from consistent eating, and his skin was beginning to lose its unhealthy pale tone, going back to a more natural pinkish color.

His eyes still looked devoid of life, but that could be ignored as long as he didn’t look at himself for too long.

Danny sighed, leaning back in his chair as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He was working on modifying the ectoblasters so that they could properly hit humans, as per Mr. Cobblepot’s orders.

He probably should feel some sort of moral conflict over it, but really, Danny couldn’t find it in him to care. Maybe it was some sort of deep internal flaw, or maybe it was because he knew that they wouldn’t be shot at anyone without blood on their hands. Either way, he didn’t have any qualms with what he was doing.

As Danny reconnected the circuitry within the gun, the indicator lights on the side of the muzzle blinked to life, a familiar neon green.

Danny would have to change that color too, he thought. Maybe red would be nice instead, or an icy blue?

He was pulled from his thoughts by the door to his temporary workshop opening. Danny looked up, and smiled when he saw that his bodyguard was the one standing in the doorway.

The man, known only as Derringer, was 6’2”, built like a tank, and known for his love of unusual firearms. He was also a big fan of card games, and had been teaching Danny how to play Blackjack during their meals.

He gently closed the door behind him, strolling into the workshop.

Danny hopped out of his seat, hugging the man tightly. Derringer laughed, patting Danny on the back as he clung to him like a koala.

“Good to see you too, kid,” the man said, his deep voice rumbling in his chest, “you just about done in here?”

Danny nodded, letting go of the bodyguard. He picked up the gun on the desk, handing it to Derringer, and pointed to the target resting in the far corner of the room.

Derringer glanced down at Danny, shrugging before aiming the gun.

He pulled the trigger, and a large scorch mark appeared in the center of the target.

Derringer whistled appreciatively, walking over to inspect the damage.

There was a deep dent in the center of the metal target, around an inch in diameter, and a large scorch mark surrounding it. The metal of the dent was white-hot, and the area around it was somewhat warped.

“That’s real nice, kid,” Derringer said, “don’t know how you do it.”

Danny grinned, baring his teeth at the man. He smiled back, ruffling his hair.

“The boss is gonna go forward with the Arkham raid soon, so long as your guns are ready,” he said, “he’s eager to try them out for real. You think you’re up to talking to him?”

“Yes,” Danny signed, nodding to the man.

“Good,” Derringer signed back.

Mr. Cobblepot, not wanting Danny to be limited in his speech by the damage to his vocal chords, had ensured that all of the people who interacted with him knew at least the basics of ASL.

When he wasn’t working on the ectoblasters, Danny was practicing his ASL with a dedicated tutor, or with Derringer, who learned the language when his mother had gone deaf.

“Can I eat first?” Danny signed, “I forgot to.”

“You forgot, or you didn’t want to leave your work?” Derringer asked, signing as he spoke, the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement, “and yeah, the boss wants to talk to you in thirty minutes. You’ve got plenty of time before then.”

“Thank you,” Danny signed, “let’s go.”

“Hey, just a sec,” Derringer said. His face had dropped into something unusually serious.

Danny nodded, tilting his head as he signed a quick “what’s wrong?”

“You’re a good kid. Even after what you’ve been through, you’re…you’re a really sweet kid,” Derringer said, looking away. “But you…you can’t keep being sweet to everyone. You gotta act tough, alright?”

“Why?”

“You just…” Derringer sighed, combing a hand through his thick, curly hair, “a lot of the guys think that you’re too weak to be here. They’re calling you the Penguin’s pet project, and the problem is that they’re not really wrong. You gotta be scarier to survive, alright? Gotham’ll eat you alive if you don’t. Just make up a persona and roll with it.”

Danny nodded slowly, processing his words for a moment.

“Like a mask?”

Derringer laughed, a bittersweet smile on his face.

“Yeah, like a mask. Just don’t start fighting crime while you’re at it.”

“Okay,” Danny signed, his movements slow. “I can do that.”

“Good on you, kid,” Derringer said, ruffling his hair once more, “now let’s go get lunch.”

The two of them ate quickly, Danny’s mind on Derringer’s advice the entire time.

He was right, and Danny knew it. He’d seen the way that some of Mr. Cobblepot’s men had looked at him.

He wasn’t anywhere near big enough to pull off the looming intimidating look that Derringer did; his doctors back in Amity had told him that he would grow to be over six foot, but his time in the GiW seemed to have stunted his growth significantly. He was only around 5’6”, and it seemed that he was going to stay that way.

In the same way, he wasn’t nearly frightening looking enough to pull off the terrifying stares of the smaller individuals working under Mr. Cobblepot. He just couldn’t get the glare right; his face would always fall back to a blank, dead stare.

Though, maybe if he played into that…

A few minutes before they had to leave, Danny excused himself to go to the restroom. He stared into the mirror, looking into his cold, dead eyes, and let his face drop.

When he adjusted his stance, and kept his eyes a bit wider than usual, he looked downright unnerving.

Danny had already noticed that most of his mannerisms were…unusual, after his stay at the GiW base. Put simply, he had forgotten what it was like to be a human.

He had noticed that most of the people around him would avoid being in his presence, and had begun mirroring their body language as much as he could to seem more normal.

Maybe, though, it would be better for him not to.

He could lean into the whole thing. An unstable young adult, experimented on by the government for years.

Danny looked into the mirror, and wide, icy eyes stared back at him.

Danny left the restroom. Derringer turned to greet him, jolting when he did. After a moment, he nodded.

“That your new look?”

“Yes. Is it good?”

“Yeah. Freaky. Gonna take some getting used to, but yeah. Now,” he said, getting up from his spot at the break room table, “let’s go see the boss.”

Danny felt anxiety bubbling up in his chest, his entire body beginning to twitch. If Mr. Cobblepot didn’t approve of the weaponry, or if he thought they were underwhelming, would he be thrown out? Would he be tortured again, or killed?

Danny shivered when they came to a stop in front of the door to Mr. Cobblepot’s office. Failure wasn’t an option. He had to make sure this went well.

“You’ll do great, kid,” Derringer whispered, pushing the door open.

Mr. Cobblepot had been talking with a few other people, but their conversation died out when Danny and Derringer entered the room. Danny’s skin crawled.

“Ah, Danny! Just the person I wanted to see,” Mr. Cobblepot said, a large smile on his face, “Do you have one of your guns with you?”

“Yes,” Danny signed, nodding.

“Wonderful. I was just telling my associates here about your work. Do you mind giving a demonstration?”

“Where should I shoot? Do you have a target?”

Derringer was quick to translate. Mr. Cobblepot nodded, gesturing for a hired hand in the corner of the room to pull out a small wooden board, holding it up in the air.

Danny paled. He would definitely burn the man’s hands if he hit the target, even if he aimed for the furthest corner of the board.

Still, he was more terrified of disappointing Mr. Cobblepot than he was empathetic towards the man, so he drew a blaster from the holster on his leg and aimed carefully.

The blast hit the center of the board. The man holding it howled in pain, dropping the target and drawing his hand close to his chest. The nauseating smell of burning flesh filled the room.

Danny breathed shakily, in and out.

Mr. Cobblepot, for what it was worth, looked like he couldn’t possibly be happier. He and the others inspected the board on the ground closely, ignoring the hired hand as he ran out of the room, still cradling his damaged hand.

A large hole had been blown into the board, and a good portion of it had been incinerated.

“Look at that, ladies and gentlemen! I told you that Danny would deliver, and deliver he did! Imagine if that had been a person instead! Danny, what would you say would happen?”

Danny paused, trying to wince when he realized that the question wasn’t hypothetical, and Mr. Cobblepot actually wanted an answer.

“It would give them S-E-V-E-R-E burns,” Danny finger spelled the word that he didn’t know the proper sign for, “mostly S-U-R-F-A-C-E. It can’t P-E-I-R-C-E, because there is no bullet, just energy.”

Derringer translated for him.

Mr. Cobblepot frowned, and Danny frantically continued, “but it can be L-E-T-H-A-L! Burns on the head kill fast. Burns on the body make S-H-O-C-K, and kill. Strong I-M-P-A-C-T, too.”

“So they do still kill, just not instantly?”

“Yes,” Danny signed, “they’re fast. They hurt bad. Bad way to die, hurts a lot.”

“Well,” one of the other men in the room piped up, “I guess he’s not completely hopeless.”

“Of course he isn’t,” Mr. Cobblepot replied, fixing a terrifying glare onto the man, “it was my idea to bring him in, after all.”

“Danny,” Mr. Cobblepot said, turning his attention back to him, “we’re going to be collaborating with these fine individuals in the future. I’m going to need twenty guns ready for use in a week. You can handle that, can’t you?”

Danny nodded frantically.

“What kind?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Mr. Cobblepot said, waving his hand dismissively, “semi-automatic is preferable, but handguns and shotguns also work. Just make sure they work perfectly.”

The room was silent for a moment.

“Well, that’s all. You can leave now, and I’ll finish discussing the details with my associates.”

Danny nodded, signing him a quick “thank you, goodbye,” and slipped out of the room alongside Derringer.

They made their way back to Danny’s workshop in silence. Once they were inside, Derringer heaved a heavy sigh, running his fingers through his hair.

“You really think you can make that many guns that quickly, kid?”

“Yes,” Danny replied, “but I need your help.”

Derringer groaned, a smile on his face.

“Of course you’re putting me to work. I should’ve expected it. Now, what do you need me to do?”

“Well, first, hold this…”

—

[heavenlyhischier]

hit the target - jason todd

summary: jason wants to teach you how to shoot a gun. you end up hitting a target; just not the one he had planned for.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: author has no knowledge of how to use a gun, maybe some inaccuracies, kissing, maybe a little angst, unedited

note: i have never written for DC before so pls forgive me if anything is off. also - this isn't based off any specific version of jason so picture whichever you'd like

Jason snuck into your apartment early in the morning, instructing you to get up and dress warm before leaving to presumably raid your kitchen. He neglected to inform you on what exactly he was dragging you to do, but you knew him well enough to assume it was probably something ridiculous. After sluggishly getting yourself ready, you walked out of your room to see Jason leaning against the counter with a bowl of cereal in his hands.

You paused your movement, admiring the way his shirt clung to his biceps and the way his tousled hair covered his forehead. There was no denying that Jason was a beautiful person, but looking was all that you could do. Once Dick had introduced you to Jason and took notice to the way you watched him, he implied that getting involved with him wouldn’t be the best idea. You could never figure out a real reason as to why, and he never gave you one either.

“A picture might last a little longer,” He teased, eyes unmoving from the bowl.

A light blush creeped its way on your cheeks as you walked forward, “Oh, I’m sure it would. What are we doing anyway?”

“Well, princess, I’m going to teach you how to shoot a gun.”

Naturally, you had assumed that he was going to take you to one of the training areas Bruce had at the manor, but he pulled off down some unmarked road into the trees instead. You knitted your eyebrows in confusion, but kept quiet for the time being. He parked near some sort of open area and stepped out of the car before going to open your door.

“Remind me again why we have to do this is out in the middle of the woods,” You questioned, leaning against the car to watch as Jason lay a few small handguns on a fallen tree, “Bruce has a perfectly good and warm indoor area for stuff like this.”

“Felt like it would be easier to focus with just me and you,” He shrugged, turning to give you a mischievous wink.

It would, in fact, not be easier. Your body warmed at the thought of Jason standing behind you, placing your hands in the correct position on his weapon with his body flush against yours. The way his breath hit your face as he told you what you were supposed to do filled your mind and that was enough to form an all too familiar knot in your stomach. You were so far wrapped in your own thoughts and fantasies that you didn’t realize Jason had been calling your name.

“You there, princess,” He chuckled as he gently shook you by the shoulders, “Lost you for a second.”

“Sorry,” You mumbled, too embarrassed by the images that had just been at the forefront of your brain to say anything else.

“Now that you’re back with me, let’s get started! We’re gonna start you off with a 9 mm because they’re easier to control than the ones I normally use,” He explained as he took your hand and pulled you over to a more empty area, “Here, take this.”

You take the small gun from his hands, the coolness of the metal making your skin tingle. It had a little more weight than you anticipated, but it was small enough to fit in your hand almost perfectly. You listened as he gave you instructions on how to eject the mag and load it correctly. You managed to do that as soon as you figured out where the button to eject the mag was.

Once it was loaded, you watched the way his hands moved along the gun like it was second nature to him, which it kind of was. His instruction fell to deaf ears as you remained focused on his hands and thoughts of other ways he could use them filled your thoughts. Jason noticed the way you spaced out on him, again, and it made him wonder what had taken you so far away. He knew he could just ask, but he’s known you long enough to know that you wouldn’t tell him. You never did.

“Alright,” His deep voice cut through your daydream, “I want you to first make sure the safety is on. Then, hold and aim the pistol the way you think you should so I can see what we’re working with.

Ensuring that the safety switch was indeed on, you gripped the pistol the way you thought you had seen the others do many times. You glanced towards Jason who was sporting an amused smile as he watched you hold the gun. You looked so out of place and awkward as you attempted to grip the weapon correctly, but Jason was going to take the opportunity to get closer to you.

Shaking his head, he moved so that he was now behind you, the front of his body pushed up against the back of yours. Your cheeks flamed red at the proximity, and they worsened once his large hands took your own and changed the position that they were in. “You were close, but you should always have your dominant hand underneath your non-dominant one.”

“Okay,” You whispered, doing your best to ignore the way he made your entire body ache for his own.

He clicked the safety off with his thumb as he started, “Now, to load the barrel, just take this hand,” He guided your left hand with his own to the slide, “And pull it towards you. Once it’s gone back forward, it’s ready to be fired. You only have to do this with the first round, everyone after will automatically slide in. This gun holds twelve rounds. You want to make sure you always count how many shots you take so you’re not fucked when they’re out. Got all that?”

“I think so,” You mumbled as your eyes darted over to his. He was close enough to you that you could see just how blue his eyes really were. You wanted to admire him a little more, but he cast his glance towards you and you quickly looked away in embarrassment.

“Never, and I mean never, look into the barrel even if you think it’s jammed and never aim it at something you don’t want to shoot. For now, I want you to aim at that tree right there, and shoot it,” He pointed at a tree he had drawn a big red ‘X’ on at some point.

He quickly moves his hands down to your hips and moves you so you're angled towards the target instead of facing it head on. He lightly kicked one of your feet forward and moved your arms so they were in the correct position. Assuming you had been placed in the right position now, you aimed the gun at the tree and fired. The recoil from the pistol wasn’t bad, but you still weren’t expecting so much. You stumbled backwards into Jason’s chest, making sure to keep the gun pointed away from the both of you.

“You definitely did not hit anything,” He laughed, his right arm holding you close to him, “But it’s a start.”

“It’s hard to focus when you’re so close to me,” You let out, pushing yourself off of him as you groaned.

Jason swiftly took the gun from your hand as you took a couple of steps away from him and unloaded it so quickly that you didn’t even notice. “I do have that effect on people,” He joked, trying to suppress the nerves bubbling in his chest. He wasn’t sure if what you said was good or bad and that intimidated him.

“Yes, Jason, you do,” You huffed.

He was hyper aware that you were avoiding eye contact with him now, and the last thing Jason wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. He always removed himself from the situation when he thought he was, but he couldn’t exactly abandon you in the woods.

“I’ll try and convince Dick to teach you some things, then. I know you’re more comfortable with him. He doesn't think you need it, but I think you should be prepared just in case anything happens to you,” Jason tried to hide the defeat and worry in his tone as he began to put his stuff back up, but you heard it.

“No,” You rushed out slightly too fast, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. You’re aware of his past and the way that he naturally assumes that everyone fears or hates him because of what he’s done. You had never felt that way towards Jason, and you were going to make sure that he knew that.

“I don’t want him. I want you,” You spoke through a surge of confidence that was sure to be gone as soon as Jason rejected that.

You watched as his movements froze, and you could tell he was trying to figure out how you meant that. Jason has wanted you to say those exact words for so long, and now that he had, he wasn’t sure what to do. All of the confidence he usually displayed was now replaced with a veil of uncertainty. It was too good to be true.

“We can pick up sometime tomorrow then,” He finally spoke, making the safe assumption that you were strictly talking about training, “We’ll have you hitting targets in no time.”

“That isn’t what I meant,” You whispered, gaze staying trained on his back Though if this went the direction you hoped; you would be hitting a completely different target.

The weapons thud against the tree as they fell from Jason’s grasp. You were still close enough to him that all he had to do was take one swift step and he was pushed against you. He was scanning your face for any sign that he was reading the situation wrong, but you had enough courage to close the gap between the two of you.

His lips met yours in a searing kiss that was sure to leave you seeing spots afterwards. One of his hands cradled your cheek, and the other moved to the lower part of your back to pull you closer. You buried a hand in his curls and lightly tugged, eliciting a groan from him that enabled you to deepen the kiss. You felt yourself becoming dizzy, but you had been waiting for this moment for far too long to back away so soon.

“This can not be happening,” A familiar voice broke through the tension filled air.

Jason pulled away and immediately unholstered his gun, aiming it at the intruder while making sure you were shielded by his own body. Dick stood there, slack jawed and eyes wide as Damian, who was a foot or so behind him, looked as amused as ever.

“What the fuck, Dick,” Jason groaned, safely sliding his gun back into its thigh holster.

“Me what the fuck? You what the fuck,” He yelled, pointing at himself then his younger brother.

You slyly walked over to Damien as his two brothers argued, and he gave you a teasing grin before he said, “Dick owes me fifty bucks.”

[utilitycaster]

look, I know polls are silly and fun and so I want you to understand writing this rant is silly and fun for me but EMON? Emon is the Critical Role Entry for Most Place of All Time? I must call bullshit. And so:

Friends, fellow critters, and people who have me blocked but hate read my blog each morning over breakfast: Emon is not even the Most Place on the Material Plane. It is not even the Most Place in Tal'Dorei. Hell, it's not even the Most Place on the fucking Bladeshimmer Shoreline, which includes a destroyed city now overtaken by bandits, and a cave system that hosts both a rift to the Far Realm and a different rock than residuum that can make a different magical drug than suude. Emon is if you took the aggressively mid vibes of Washington, DC and transplanted them to the inconvenient location and city of refuge for flaky people who avoid gluten for non-medical reasons of Los Angeles. The second Percival Frederickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III invents the motorcar that sumbitch is going to have traffic bad enough to summon Tharizdun. Also there's a literal pit of fire that's been burning for 30 years that both hasn't been adequately addressed but also doesn't really seem that interesting. Like oh a bunch of dragons destroyed your city? Big deal. Draconia got so fucked up it doesn't exist anymore, and at least Westruun has some fucking charm. At least Pike and Grog actually lived there, whereas Vox Machina got a house in Emon and proceeded to spend their time literally anywhere else.

Here is a brief list of places on the planet of Exandria in the Material Plane - not even across Critical Role's main campaigns/EXU, which includes such non-Exandrian places as "living city of people who mind-melded and escaped to the Astral Sea during a century-plus-long war of the gods"; "Ligament Manor"; "Ryn's groovy pied-a-feu, man I wonder what made the scorch marks on that furniture, anyway", and "THE MOON THAT IS ACTUALLY AN PRISON FOR A THING THAT EATS GODS AND IS POSSIBLY HATCHING" - that are more of a place than Emon:

Jrusar: 5 spires no waiting, sweet cable car system, city almost entirely destabilized by goo creatures as part of an overly complicated plot to blow up the aforementioned moon

Bassuras: (literally "garbagetown") Run by Mad Max gangs and everyone is cool with it; regular sandstorms; one of those gangs apparently sits atop a hive mind and NO ONE has examined this (except for them)?)

Whitestone: has a tree planted by one god over a buried temple to another god that was corrupted in the name of a third, shittier god; overrun by zombies but it's fine now; streetlights and two bears that are allowed to do whatever the fuck they want.

Yios: The canal system of Venice meets the colleges per capita of Boston meets the orcs from your fantasies, also there's some kind of kitchen-based organized crime ring so intricate it could be its own campaign (so, also like Boston).

Vasselheim: literally no one understands what the fuck its government system is. Old as balls. Temples everywhere! Temples full of trees. Temples full of blood! Temples full of an old guy who will kick your ass. A sphinx that regulates the monster hunter mini-game. Presumably the giant titan full of the ancient cannibal dwarf city is like, still there, as a new fixture, since I don't see how they're moving that.

The arctic: where teleportation doesn't work, there's a river of lava in the middle of the snow, ancient ruins full of snow globes full of actual people, and the Chaos Bisexual Emerald - and that's just a smattering of what Eiselcross has to offer.

Since this is about space and not time we can toss Aeor and Avalir too, since they once were places, and while we're at it whatever the fuck is going on with the Shattered Teeth and its permanent fog cloud and fish dream cult and capitalist shipwrecked merchants.

And, of course, any arbitrary square millimeter of Wildemount, frankly, has more Mostness than the entirety of Emon could muster under absolutely ideal conditions. But for the sake of one place per region, let's hand it to Rosohna (city of eternal night for practical purposes, built over the Evil God Headquarters); Uthodurn (underground! Giant goats! Elves and dwarves, living together, mass hysteria!); Hupperdook (steampunk gnome party city); Nicodranas (Fjord, Jester, Veth, Marion, and Yussa literally all live there at once; plumbing used to be courtesy of an imprisoned marid...but watch out); and Blightshore (Blightshore).

In conclusion: Emon is boring, nominating it was a mistake, there are literally sealed gods in other parts of the world and also way better taverns, good night, and what the fuck.

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (VII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and whatever prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWOis here PART THREEis here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and this is lucky number seven baby 💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts

Where we last left off... Martian Manhunter did a Whoopsie. Things are better than they were though, so...success? YJ got in trouble with Batman but Danny wasn't exactly cognizant enough to notice so that got relegated to the tags.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my awful attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

The debriefing team meets J’onn in a meeting room not too far from the cafeteria. By the time he makes it to the correct floor, the team has clearly been waiting on him; on the table are a pack of Chocco cookies, a large order of fries, and a ten pack of chicken nuggets. 

J’onn inclines his head. It’s nice to see that his favorite meal is remembered. “Thank you, Batman.” 

Batman’s nod is equally as formal. The human is already most of the way through his italian sub. “No thanks needed. Were you successful in your contact with the entity?” 

Ah. Right to the details, then. J’onn obliges the question with a seat at the table. Black Canary, a chair to his right, gently scoots over to provide him more space. 

In the end, J’onn is relieved to have a prop in his hands. It creates a small, if flimsy barrier between himself and the images the boy had shown him. 

What he knows now…

J’onn sighs. 

The room is peaceful— likely intentionally so, in order to ease the oncoming conversation. Wonder Woman and Black Canary sit beside each other, their individual meals open and half-eaten between them. As the facilitator of the conversation, Batman sits at the end of the table; as the secretary of the meeting, Superman sits beside him, his sloppy joe in one hand and a keyboard beneath the other. 

J’onn quietly tears open the packaging of his pack of cookies. Plucks one from its plastic insert inside. Chews. Swallows.

“The first thing to note is that although the entity's primary language is not known to me, he is extremely familiar with humans— and, likely, with Earth.” 

Superman swallows the rest of his sandwich in one gulp, nods, and begins to type. Batman turns to face J’onn directly. “How so?” 

“He has many memories of flying freely in Earth’s atmosphere, specifically; the stars line up with the star patterns as viewed from this planet. He is intimately familiar with several aspects of Earth’s culture, including the idea of ‘a bedroom’, which he identified as his own, and a childhood toy, which was a scale model of an Earth spacecraft. If I was shown a variety of options, I could likely pick out which craft specifically. He has a mind for detail.”

Superman’s fingers flick rapid-fire over the keyboard. J’onn happens to be aware of the Krytponian’s career, as the local telepath, but rarely is the man's passion so clearly shown; the focus and quick hands certainly project an air of professionalism around an otherwise at-ease debriefing room.

“You’re using he/him,” the Kryptonian observes, making additional notes in the margins of the in-progress report. “How did that come about?”

“He does have an understanding of the most common gender identities of Earth, and has a favored one. How he came about it…” J’onn inhales. It is a very human gesture. “…I do not know his origins for certain, but I have several theories.”

Batman cuts off an oncoming question from Superman with a silent wave of his hand. “Base information first. Questions and theoreticals at the end.”

Superman’s face at the hindering of his professional instincts is perhaps less than completely mature. “Yes, yes.”

J’onn takes a second cookie.

It’s easy to report on certain things; the entity's initial inability to communicate without acute pain, the subsequent reaction of the teenage team, the eventual discovery of clear communication and transference of emotion.

“Not all of his thoughts were particularly clear.” J’onn nibbles on the edge of his cookie. Black Canary pushes aside her empty tray of California rolls to give her pen and notepad space. This portion of the debrief necessitates more of her skills. “Most of the memories that he aimed to show me were value-neutral, or otherwise unrelated memories, likely due to the stress of his current and deeply traumatic situation. He preferred memories that did not have pain or distress associated with them. When prompted—I displayed my own perspective of the crash we had found him in— the associated memories that were brought up implied that not only was he the pilot of the craft, but that he had a hand in building it.”

Superman’s rhythmic tapping undercuts the soft conversation. “So he is sapient, then, despite the difficulties in communication,” Wonder Woman confirms softly.

“More than. There are echoes of formalized schooling and other instruction in his mind, although I couldn’t discern the topics of the lessons.”

“Were there other beings like him? Anyone we could reach out to? Family members, friends…?”

J’onn hesitates. There’s no way to confirm what he saw. However…

“…There are memories that he has of his own person, in which he looks very human. His self-conceptualization is of an adolescent human boy.”

The grief in the room is palpable. J’onn doesn’t have to look up to feel it press in on him from all sides.

“I suspect that…in the same way that Superman has largely spent his life on Earth, this boy has at least spent several years on Earth as well. There are glosses of memories of an adapted human house, though I was unable to safely explore how far back they went. There are humans who prominently play a role in his self-image and expected worldview, although the mental representations of them have scarred over with some form of psychological trauma. Overall, despite his current form, there was likely a time this child felt safe around both humans and human scientists.” 

Silence rules over the room. 

“...Do we know what changed that?” Black Canary asks, without looking up from her notes. Her pencil eraser taps quietly against the table. 

J’onn sets the package of cookies to the side. “Not…so exactly. There were hints of memories threaded throughout the recalled moments that he did not wish to pin down. Claustrophobia. Fear of incarceration. The fear of physical harm done to him— and the psychological harm of knowing with exact certainty that there were those willing to hurt him. …Intimate betrayal.” 

Superman and Black Canary’s eyes quietly close. Batman looks hardly moved under his cowl; if J’onn could not feel the man’s stress spike in the air, he might not have ever known how worried the human was. 

J’onn isn’t actually meant to know Superman’s circumstances as to his arrival on planet Earth, but there are equally few ways that any of the league can hide the entirety of their thoughts from him— especially at the time of his initial arrival into the League, when mental defenses had yet to be erected in a comprehensive manner. This situation smacks strongly of the story of Clark Kent, son of his human parents. 

“There is no way to confirm my guess without further conversation on the topic. However, it is incredibly likely that he lived under the radar, on Earth, for a lengthy enough span of time to acclimate to human society. The discovery of his non-human biology would have spurred further action, and the result would have given reason for his fear of medical professionals, scientists, and adult humans. Likely, the other humans in his memories meant to support him, and were prevented from doing so or injured in the process. The vehicle that had crashed back to Earth would have served as—”

“—An escape route,” several voices overlap together. 

J’onn nods. His fingers steeple together. “There is no way to know how far into space he had gotten, or if his escape was aided by others of his species, or even if the point of origin was in low atmosphere or Earth's orbit. Either way, our patient is alone now, is in extreme background pain, has lost perception in several of his senses that exclude taste, and has reluctantly bonded with the junior team due to a lack of more familiar presences.”

Batman’s emotional presence circles into a silent exhale of frustration. “That would be Impulse’s under-the table operation,” the human correctly identifies, dry as the desert. 

(J’onn is certain that the vigilante will never reveal it, even to himself, but the exhale has its own quiet, microscopic tinge of reluctant amusement.)

“I don’t think it qualifies as under-the-table if you have a running file on his activities, dated and timed by every individual interaction,” Superman points out, not even bothering to glance at the now-slightly-peeved Batman. 

“Hn.”

“Oh, very mature.” 

“It was not league sanctioned.”

“Neither are the majority of your movements,” Wonder Woman points out. The fork from her salad punctuates her sentence with a tease and a wave. “If you informed us your security plans for the Watchtower any earlier than a week after you had already installed the new measures, I would assume you were an imposter and prepare for battle.”

Batman hardly looks put out. He achieves deception with his whole body. J’onn genuinely admires how discordant his behavior and churning thoughts can be. 

“Hn.”

 “Oh, very well-spoken,” Black Canary flatters insincerely, toying with her pencil against her paper. 

It would be very immature of Batman to sulk. Therefore, he does not. 

“Returning to the point of this meeting… Are there any other pertinent details we ought to know?” 

J’onn considers shrugging. He packs three chocco cookies into his mouth instead, chews, and swallows. There are only two cookies left in the pack, now. 

“The biological mechanism utilized for his empathic sense is vibrationally-based. That would be why my initial attempt at communication failed so tremendously; if he does have a neurological center, it is too deeply damaged to interpret telepathic input. He has a fondness for astronomy, can recognize the color red with greatest ease, and likely needs high contrast if we would like him to recognize any materials we provide. He imprinted on Impulse likely because the boy’s presence in the Speedforce mimics the energy readings he expects to see in those of his species.” 

Superman hums. His fingers fly. “So he must have met others of his species before.” 

J’onn makes a so-so motion. “There is no way to be certain. His abilities may be instinctually pre-programmed, or he may have had access to outside materials to teach him.” 

Batman’s arms cross. His sandwich, which had been sitting on the table, is now entirely vanished— wrapper and all. “Was there any evidence as to either particular theory you were able to pick up on?”

“...No.” Hadn’t he indicated such?

“Was there any personal information you were able to pick up on?” 

J’onn has to think about that one. The topic hadn’t come up during their mental exchange, when so much more of the focus had been on creating basic understanding of the Watchtower, his presence within their base as a patient and not as a prisoner, and his current location on the moon. Anything else that J’onn might have gleaned would have to be determined on supposition and analysis. 

“...He enjoys astronomy.” J’onn tries to recall the exact memories he had seen, and only ends up reiterating what he has already said. Perhaps highlighting certain moments will make the narrative clearer. “His childhood dwelling had little stickers on his ceiling. They would stay lit even when the room went dark—”

“...Glow in the dark stars,” Superman whispers under his breath. J’onn exhales. This isn’t a familiar point of human culture for him. He’s glad his description is recognizable. 

“Yes. He organized them to mimic Earth's constellations. He had smaller, handheld versions of rocket ships. Even if he had not known of extraterrestrial origins, he was drawn to the cosmos.” 

Batman coughs. The gesture is a reflex to suppress some welling emotion. J’onn pretends that it works. “Both items are…markers of a young child,” Batman admits. “Indications of a quite young, very human childhood.” 

Ah. J’onn can more deeply recognize the sense of tragedy welling in the air. The items are astronomy-based yes, but they equally highlight his age. 

“When he donned a human appearance, he matched the coloration of the human family who took him in. As fleeting as their acquaintance might have been, he modeled his human form after them— solidly enough and surely enough that, if he feels strong enough to form a mental self-representation, I can see the outline of it in his memories.” No details, beyond vague hints in the entity's mind of his hair and her eyes and their skin.

“Very loved,” Wonder Woman murmurs. 

“Very young, and very loved,” Black Canary reiterates with a sigh. Her notes are a black mess of graphite. “And now he fears adult humans.” 

“Yes,” J’onn admits. The cookies are gone. He sets the wrapper to the side. He reaches for the chicken nuggets. “That said, he has an instinctual familiarity with black and with red hair, will likely experience less fear with a female profile as opposed to a male, and responded favorably when offered the chance to interact with an adult who did not mean him harm. The fact that we have largely indestructible adults at our disposal works to our advantage.”

It is very, very clear who exactly fills that description. Wonder Woman sits up straight, laces her fingers together, and very kindly curtails her smugness. If Superman and Batman would like to be jealous of her current position, they may do so at their own discretion.

[thelegendofmik]

Stop Defending Ableists Challenge (Level: Impossible)

So the other day I made a post listing all the ableist things Jacob Richmond has included in Legoland and Ride the Cyclone.

And the response was abysmal - the amount of "well actually..." kind of responses I got was disgusting and I took down the post because I find it counterproductive to argue with teenagers on the internet. However, I stand by the belief that if you think you are old enough to post publicly on the internet, you are old enough to be held accountable for what you post.

But I think what I had to say was quite important, so I am going to reword it here.

TW here for the discussion of ableism and ableist slurs (they are all censored)

There is ZERO (0) justification for the use of THREE (3) ableist slurs across both works. I don't fucking care if it was the 2000's. The ADA predates both shows and disability activism had existed for decades before that (as yannick very kindly reminded me). So no, it was not ok for Richmond to use those slurs in his works, regardless of the time period. Because there is nothing "correct" (politically, or otherwise) about ableism.

And before you say "Oh, but it was the character who said it, not the writer..."

CHARACTERS ARE NOT SENTIENT BEINGS! They are not created in a vacuum. Their thoughts and actions are often a reflection of the author's own beliefs and morals.

It was not Ocean who decided to use the word cr*pple. It was Jacob Richmond who decided to use it. Same with the r word and sp*z in Legoland. It wasn't Penny and Ezra who decided to use those words, it was Jacob Richmond. Because each character's actions are dictated by the decisions that the author makes for that character. And in this case, the author decided to be an ableist asshole.

Yes, characters can be assholes. They can be complex and nuanced beings. But there are better ways to portray such experiences than being violently ableist (i.e.: without using slurs). And why does the ableist character get complexity and nuance, but the disabled character is simply the sad, disabled kid, with not much else in his personality until he magically becomes abled bodied. Like we deserve nuance and complexity as well, people!

In a 2022 interview with Curtain Call Bway (here), when asked who his favourite character to write was, Richmond responds with the following:

Ocean is definitely my favorite character to write because it’s based on certain people I’ve met and certain aspects of myself too.

Like he literally admits it himself, that his decisions when writing an ableist character were based off aspects of his own personality.

The reality is, disability has never been more than a comedic plot point to Richmond. He has never cared about portraying a realistic disabled experience. He has never cared about disabled people.

And the cherry on top is that his response to yannick-robin being hate-crimed was to rewrite Ricky so that he could be played by an abled and therefore production teams wouldn't have to give a shit about ensuring their spaces are safe and accessible for disabled performers. If he actually cared about disabled people and properly representing our experiences, he would have worked with a disability consultant and fixed the issues within the show. Instead, he doubles down and causes even more harm.

To add insult to injury, he then licensed that script to Sarah Rasmussen and her team of ableist cronies for the DC production. Because him choosing to continue working with Rasmussen and her team just shows that he shares the same ableist values as the McCarter/Arena team.

So by saying that "its the character, not the author", you are defending Richmond and his violent ableism. You are attempting to justify the harm he has done and CONTINUES TO DO to disabled people. YOU. ARE. A. PART. OF. THE. PROBLEM.

Ride the Cyclone and Legoland (in ALL its forms and versions) contains so much ableist violence. This violence has traumatised REAL PEOPLE, but yannick, myself, and other people speaking out are the ones ruining the vibe by calling it out? Be fucking for real people.

Now if only my university papers were this thorough...

[cantsayidont]

For a long time, the main impetus for DC reprinting any its voluminous back catalog was some promotional or licensing tie-in: a movie, a TV show, some merchandise they were trying to push, or just a popular ongoing book. Given how prominently Dr. Fate was featured in the recent BLACK ADAM movie, therefore, it's surprising and somewhat disheartening that DC didn't take the opportunity to do some kind of greatest hits compilation for the character, who was certainly the best thing about that mostly terrible film.

This is especially unfortunate because you could fit quite a bit of Dr. Fate's Silver Age and Bronze Age non-JSA appearances in a single volume, starting with the two 1965 SHOWCASE team-ups with Hourman shown above, by Gardner Fox and Murphy Anderson. There are also a number of later team-ups with Superman and Batman:

Fate then got a couple of solo features in the '70s:

Kubert cover notwithstanding, the 1ST ISSUE SPECIAL story, which is written by Marty Pasko, has some really outstanding early Walt Simonson art, while the SECRET ORIGINS OF SUPER-HEROES story has an eight-page retelling of Fate's origin, narrated by Kent Nelson's wife Inza, by the ALL-STAR team of Paul Levitz and Joe Staton.

In 1982, Doctor Fate got his own eight-page backup feature in, weirdly enough, THE FLASH #306–313. Despite what a couple of the covers imply, there wasn't a team-up between the Flash and Fate (who in those days still existed on separate parallel Earths); the Fate strip was just an unrelated second feature.

This strip, written by Marty Pasko and Steve Gerber with spectacular art by Keith Giffen and Larry Mahlstedt, presents an array of interesting ideas (some of which obviously paved the way for Giffen's 1987 revamp). Pasko had already established (in the 1975 1ST ISSUE SPECIAL story) that Doctor Fate wasn't exactly Kent Nelson: He was really the ancient Lord of Order Nabu, the entity who trained Nelson in the magical arts, who possessed Nelson's body whenever he put on the Helm of Fate. In other words, the Dr. Fate of these stories isn't so much a man wearing a magical helmet as a magical helmet wearing a man. Nabu has made both Kent and Inza ageless — they both appear about 25, but by this time, they're really in their 60s — but allows them little real control of their lives. Kent has more or less resigned himself to it, but Inza is feeling the strain of being trapped in a magical menage à trois with her husband and an inhuman entity that has little regard for Kent's welfare and even less for hers. Nabu, for his part, seems to exist in a state of constant mystical urgency in which human frailties are an unaffordable distraction.

This could have been really compelling, and it's both graphically interesting and quite strange, but all that is a lot to squeeze into eight-page installments, and having them crammed in the back of one of DC's most conventional superhero books was obviously not optimal. It was also having to compete for Giffen and Mahlstedt's attention with LEGION OF SUPER-HEROES, which I assume was why the Fate strip was dropped after only eight installments.

To everyone's surprise, there was even a Doctor Fate action figure in 1984 as part of the Kenner Super Powers line. This came with a little minicomic, which to my knowledge has never been reprinted:

All of this stuff would add up to something in the realm of 230 pages, which would easily fit into a single trade paperback collection with a digestible price point. Maddeningly, DC has already done the color remastering for roughly three-fifths of this material, so even that probably wouldn't be a huge chore (although the Giffen/Mahlstedt stuff, which has a lot of color holds and graphic effects, really calls for more care in remastering than DC has tended to give its older material of late.)

[ufonaut]

"a disaster beyond description" - the parallax view on parallax (& coast city's destruction)

i've often talked about the importance of pre-parallax retcon hal jordan, what a radical move his downfall had been for an art medium so uniquely focused on status quo and how much walking that back in post-2005 continuity damaged the character & his development. however, something i've become increasingly interested in lately is the outsider point of view on the magnitude of coast city's destruction and hal's descent into madness -- the reverberations of one of the darkest days in the dcu were far and wide for a good long while there but rarely acknowledged outside of nostalgia pieces nowadays and even more rarely understood as a thoroughly visceral, well-written, well-planned arc that intentionally portrayed the superhero world as largely unsympathetic to the trauma of one of their own but the average civilian as grappling with that loss nearly on the same scale that hal did.

to that effect, i thought i would show a highlights reel of this outsider POV and how much it adds to the weight of the pre-2005 story. while i've accepted some tie-ins to major events (ie zero hour 1994, final night 1996), this will feature titles entirely unrelated to green lantern presented in real life chronological order by publication date in order to showcase the impact that's compelled me so (that's no convergence: green lantern, no legends of the dcu #33-36, etc).

"every office, every home, every school and hospital is atomized. the west coast and its entire ecosystem is instantaneously shattered-- and more than seven million men, women and children that once called the coast city area home-- die."

to set the scene, the explosion that destroys coast city actually appears in superman 1987 #80 (cover date: aug 1993) as part of hank henshaw and mongul's plan.

the destruction had spread as far as santa barbara & the los padres national forest. getting closer to ground zero, hank henshaw also proceeds to resolutely take care of a handful of the sole survivors:

(adventures of superman 1987 #503, cover date: aug 1993)

you all know the reading order here. past the return of superman and the events of emerald twilight, the first outsiders to have gotten the news are the darkstars

whose immediate course of action is to brand hal jordan a criminal (darkstars #23, cover date: aug 1994)

and as zero hour-induced temporal anomalies keep coming up, the darkstars start seriously considering further tampering with time in order to prevent "the creation of a power-mad monster" (darkstars #24, cover date: sept 1994).

it's a sentiment that the majority of hal's justice league colleagues share, as zero hour: crisis in time and the final night both tell us, but a more sympathetic view comes two years later in the spectre 1992 #47 (cover date: nov 1996)

and a more neutral one from waverider in superman: the doomsday wars #2 (cover date: dec 1998)

interestingly enough, more details of the in-universe perception of hal's actions comes from deadman: dead again

where we learn that "sources close to the JLA" have actually issued a press statement naming hal as wholly responsible for the green lantern corps massacre, with no hint that they've been equally forthcoming about the motive behind his actions (deadman: dead again #4, cover date: oct 2001)

the last pre-retcon word goes to superman: day of doom #3 (cover date: jan 2003), a sobering portrayal of the immense horror of coast city's annihilation and subsequently a look into the reality that had made hal snap:

post-retcon, nostalgia pieces like dcu: legacies #8 (feb 2011) and dc retroactive: superman - the 80s (oct 2011) both treat the mad-with-grief version of the story as the truth -- as does the 2015 convergence event --but outside of these few instances, the tour de force of storytelling that is this years-long arc has been cast aside in favor of an unnecessary retcon. as the zero hour: crisis in time 30th anniversary approaches, i'd say it's just the right time to remember that hal (unrepentant hal, power-hungry hal, hell-bent on making everything right hal) had had a perfectly proportional reaction to the tragedy he'd endured, if not outright a justified one.

[ordinaryschmuck]

I think the reason why you often see more game/show/movie announcements for a random Marvel character you never heard of where DC primarily focuses on Batman and Batman related characters is because...Marvel built more trust with the obscure.

All the way back when they started the MCU, Marvel didn't have the rights to its more iconic, recognizable, and, more important, marketable characters. Spider-Man went to Sony, X-Men and Fantastic Four went to Fox, and even the Hulk was technically owned Universal. By the time the MCU was being conceived, Marvel only had its C-listers and D-listers. No one even HEARD of characters like Ant-Man, Doctor Strange, and ESPECIALLY the Guardians of the Galaxy before the MCU. Even characters like Iron Man, Captain America, and Thor, characters considered Marvel's big three nowadays, characters who the MCU relied on, weren't as huge as DC's big three. Meanwhile, DC had access to ALL of its characters, relying on its most recognizable IPs like Batman and Superman...And, oh yeah, I guess Wonder Woman was there too...Sometimes.

But the biggest seller was always Batman. Because how could he not be? He looked cool, he had an impressive rogues gallery to make toys of, and is everything for DC as Spider-Man was to Marvel. Both Batman and Spider-Man could sell anything. But Marvel technically didn't have the FULL rights to Spider-Man and DC...didn't bother with its other characters. Batman made bank with his videogames, movies, and TV shows to the point where they could sell a Gotham prequel series to Fox and STILL make a lot of cash. Why bother making a movie about Aquaman or The Flash when it likely won't sell as well as BATMAN. Sure, you got a Green Arrow TV show on the same network as a Superman prequel series, but that didn't change how most of DC's other projects weren't connected to Batman in someway.

Teen Titans was a show that starred Robin, Batman's sidekick. Same with Young Justice. And the only time kids got introduced to other DC characters, it was for a campy show like Batman: The Brave and the Bold where BATMAN teamed up with a hero a week. Which would have been a smart way to bring other characters into the light, but it's still connected strictly through BATMAN. Even now, DC has what is best described as a Batman problem. The Flash was a movie that featured two versions of Batman, one of them bringing in nostalgia through a past Batman movie instead of focusing on an old Flash product. And with the last few years, the only video games were Batman related, with Gotham Knights starring Batman's sidekicks and that Suicide Squad game starring Harley Quinn, a BATMAN villain who goes to kill BATMAN that's actually the same BATMAN from an old BATMAN game.

And yeah...I love Batman. We ALL love Batman. He's the coolest character ever conceived and it's the easiest thing in the world to make a movie about him. It might not be a GOOD movie sometimes, but it's at least a movie that'll make billions. But with this over-saturation of Batman, it left DC unsure if they can make anything big WITHOUT him. Because how can they be sure it'll succeed without their signature character that gave them a shitload of money?

But let's go back to Marvel. Starting a cinematic universe without their most popular IPs was a risk. They SORT of had the rights to the Hulk, but...there was no way Hulk would have made more money than a Spider-Man movie. If they wanted to make a successful franchise, Marvel had to put more faith in its other characters, allowing to make good movies and hope that enough people would be interested to see more. And...it worked. Iron Man was a hit, Thor and Captain America got people interest, and the big pay off was the box office smash that was The Avengers. Everyone started to know these characters and it didn't stop there. Guardians of the Galaxy became popular enough to be another big franchise for Marvel, Black Panther became the most popular Black superhero after Blade (another Marvel character), and people were left BEGGING for Spider-Man and the X-Men to join this universe so they could see their old favorites interact with their NEW favorites. And that just...never stopped. Marvel kept pushing more and more characters to the spotlight, with it paying it off for them.

Before 2014, NO ONE would consider buying a Guardians of the Galaxy game. But due to the MCU's revamping of those characters, it was enough to make people willing to do so. And in a few years, we're getting games based on Iron Man, Captain America and Black Panther, and JUST Black Panther, all because the Marvel had enough faith to turn this C-listers into A-listers. As for TV shows, we've got connected MCU stuff like Moon Knight and Ms. Marvel, but also a really good and imaginative cartoon with Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur.

Now, to be fair, it's not paying off for Marvel, especially with Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania and The Marvels causing the studio to lose bank. They're even thinking about cutting back on riskier stuff and focusing on their bigger franchises. Which...honestly sounds dumb to me not only because the MCU was founded on taking risks, but also because DC is exactly what you get when you focus on JUST the money makers. We're still getting nothing but Batman and Batman related characters or movies/universes that references nothing but Batman. To the point where I just want DC to retire Batman for a year, maybe TWO tops. Marvel proved that you can make a hit if you let other characters than the most marketable one. Even if it fails like The Marvels did, it's not because Captain Marvel isn't as iconic as Iron Man, it's because the movie wasn't as well-written enough. It was a fun time, sure, but not as strongly written as other MCU films. And that's what DC needs to learn and Marvel to remember: It's not about who's the most popular, it's about strong writing.

Hopefully we get more attention on lesser-known Marvel and DC characters in the future.

[idontbeatgames]

DC's Blue Beetle has officially debuted with a 94%(!!!) audience score on Rotten Tomatoes!

As I said in so many other posts: Please go out and watch Blue Beetle with your friends and family. As the first live-action Latino superhero film, the representation that it's bringing is such a warm welcome and no matter what people say, we need more superhero projects that represent massive cultures to have amazing lighthearted success stories now more than ever. Let Blue Beetle be the beginning of this amazing trend of these incredibly important films overcoming all of the odds no matter how many people choose to immediately write it off.  And if that's not a good enough reason, here's multiple reasons why you should join the Blue Beetle Battalion by watching Blue Beetle in theaters:

Blue Beetle is the first live action Latino superhero film.

The film stars Cobra Kai's Xolo Maridueña as Jaime Reyes, Singer and Actress Becky G as the voice of the Scarab and George Lopez as Jaime's crazy uncle Rudy.

Blue Beetle is the first character in DC Studios' DCU timeline, as confirmed by DC Studios Co-Owner James Gunn

Blue Beetle was made as "the first act of a saga" and is currently planned to have a trilogy, assuming the first film does well.

Blue Beetle's Director, Angel Manuel Soto, prioritized real locations and practical effects for Blue Beetle, stating VFX is "a tool, not a dependency."

Blue Beetle's Director also didn't overwork the movie's VFX workers, which is a very common problem in the movie industry, stating "We didn't want to exploit the VFX artists as much as they have already been exploited. And using real locations allowed us to have better integration of the practical suits, so the VFX serve as an enhancement. It's a tool, not a dependency, and that really helped to make this whole thing feel bigger than life. We shot the third act in a real 500-year-old fortress in Puerto Rico. The communities depicted weren't a set. We went to the barrios of Puerto Rico and shot there. A lot of the people in the background are people from that community. So being able to make the film as lived in as possible felt worthy of the big screen experience."

Blue Beetle's Director also supports the ongoing strike and had this to say about the entire cast of Blue Beetle striking throughout its press run: "I do believe that the strike needed to happen. I wish it happened after the release of our movie, but at the end of the day, there's no better time than now. So, having them actually sacrifice this opportunity to be on the picket line and to fight for a better future — not only for them, but also to secure something better for future generations to come — is a heroic act of its own. So I'm celebrating them through their sacrifice in this moment, while also honoring the amazing work that they did. Representing them gives me the energy to continue doing this."

There is a genuine possibility that Xolo Mariduena's Blue Beetle can end up appearing in the upcoming Booster Gold show.

Blue Beetle is out NOW in Theaters!

[ew-selfish-art]

DPx DC Au: Might as well be brothers. Young Justice hears about a regional hero disappearing, and while they've never met the guy, Red Robin's contacts say that Ra's is hunting him for afterlife/immortality related reasons.

Tim drake hates the annoying white uniform he's wearing but breaking into this place is crucial to his 24 hour plan to rescue Phantom. He'd never even heard of the guy until a week ago when Pru came to him with info that Ra's was looking into Midwest Real Estate, and then Tim stumbled down the rabbit hole of Ghost conspiracy theories until he saw an article demanding that local officials speak on the hero's absence of 10 days. 10 days was short enough that Tim might find a sign of life and well, another federal agency being hacked by Red Robin is nothing new.

So now, he's walking down the halls with these stupid fucking glasses and this stupid fucking suit while Kon listens from the comfort of the surveillance van. He takes a turn and sees the track suits that the illegally detained inmates are wearing, and pivoting the plan, makes his way to a locker room to get one and get changed. It does take him an extra second and he considers that this might bite him- but Tim knows the place inside and out. He's scoured all their data, and sue him for being cocky, but he has a literal alien ready to tear the place apart waiting for his heart rate to jump above 80 bpm. which is a pretty low heart rate all things considered.

Tim gets exactly where he's meant to go, and waits only a few minutes before he see's the science team extract Phantom from the high security room.

Phantom doesn't make it clear if he notices Tim, but he's basically being dragged by the couple, so Tim decides to beat them to their destination. The experimental wing had shown up in their reported data not long after they made it extremely obvious that they had Phantom in their data output.

Tim's already in the room when he starts to notice that it's not exactly a room... more like a mechanical space. The way the corners curl in the room make it almost tube like... Portal like.

Phantom is thrown in and Tim grabs him the second the scientists leave, but the kill switch key Tim made to get them out isn't working for this door like it did all the others.

"Not... Not a door."

"We're in some sort of device aren't we? Something of their own design that the government isn't aware they're funding?"

"Portal. You've gotta get out, even if you get caught, you gotta get out now."

Tim's comm comes alive in his ear, its Kon responding to Tim's heart rate rising- and Tim is hesitant to call him in but ultimately tells him to start flying over for extraction.

Then the portal goes off, and while he feels pain, he doesn't feel different. Bright light subsiding, Kon's arms around him with a confused voice, and lots of lasers being fired his way... Tim wakes up to see a much younger Phantom looking at him from the other side of the young justice couch.

Kon, Bart and Cassie are all fighting at a white board that's been wheeled in but Tim can only yawn and blink his way into consciousness enough to give a shit.

Black haired and blue eyed, button nosed with large ears, a wry thin lipped smile... Tim realizes that Phantom looks incredibly similar to his younger self. And then Tim looks at his much smaller hands and realizes that he probably looks a lot more similar to his younger self than normal.

Taking in the scenery once more, the white board is divided on the traits Tim has to the children sitting left and right on the couch. Kon didn't know who was who. That meant that maybe... the government didn't either.

Phantom turns out to be a pretty chill dude despite all the trauma, and he's incredibly prepared to both fuck with Ra's and the government in their newly found childhood twin-ship.

One of the twins is scarier than the other, and despite Danny literally haunting them, its always Tim.

(Okay now its some one else's turn :D )

[laufire]

it's very funny (read: not funny) how after the new 52 reboot, dc altered two of my favourite first meetings (you know how much I care about first meetings) in a very similar war.

first you have batman incorporated vol. 2 #2, that more or less reproduced the first meeting between bruce and talia in detective comics #411 in a few flashbacks (league dude fighting it off with ra's kidnaps talia, bruce is fighting it off with him and ends up wounded and in her medical care, etc. the flashback doesn't include the very best part of the first meeting, at the end of the story, so: read 'tec #411 it's great. there's a facsimile reprint coming on march if you think you'll be into it). but then... makes it as if that meeting, and talia falling for bruce during it, was all orchestrated by ra's.

then you have red hood and the outlaws vol. 1 #0. its first sin is that it changes bruce and jason's first meeting completely: instead of occurring on the anniversary of the death of bruce's parents, involving a kid showing the gumption to steal the batmobile's tires and making bruce laugh in such a momentous anniversary... it's just batman catching jason as he tries to steal some prescription drugs (not even for his now presumed dead mother) from leslie's clinic. then it commits the BIGGEST sin of saying this was all... orchestrated by the joker, who one day saw jason and decided to manipulate his whole life (taking dad away, faking mom's death, putting him outside the clinic) to make him, somehow, become batman's sidekick.

in the first case, I don't mind it as much, if only when compared to the other. it annoys me that talia's feelings are rewritten as the result of manipulation, but a.) ra's is a mastermind type, so they're not just elevating his character for no reason, and b.) given this is the very comic that made talia a rapist, I'm gonna pick my battles. plus I only recently read 'tec #411 so as much as I love it, it's not part of my Psyche the same way batman #408 is lol.

but the second one profoundly aggravates me lmfao. first, because of just how much I love their new earth meeting!! lobdell's version focuses on what a lot of writers afterwards have tried to use to smear jason's name, aka, "he's just some juvenile delinquent". he's also made jason part of a gang, when new earth!jason clearly had very clear lines about what he was willing to do (boost what he needed to survive) and what he wasn't (becoming "a crook", joining ma gunn's gang).

and like... to be blunt, in no logical universe seeing some rando steal from a clinic would make bruce up and make him robin. it's the sequence of "shameless enough to go for the batmobile" + feisty against bruce + "ready to prevent crime on his own when it looked like batman wasn't going to" that did it. of course making any random kid robin wouldn't be logical anyway lol, and bruce's own loneliness was the deep motivating factor... but one of this versions make jason distinctive, someone who WOULD trigger bruce's baby robin fever. and the other is generic and makes me feel pretty sceptical about the whole thing.

and that's not even getting into the joker's supposed role in all this because FUCK THAT. good GOD do I hate the idea that the freaking joker is some super genius mastermind playing five dimensional chess with the bats and orchestrating events years in advance. my first story really reading joker was aditf. the guy beats robin to near death (which he manages thanks to the element surprise, deceit, and having goons help him), blows him up to hide the evidence because he's scared of what batman would do to him, then immediately admits he killed robin to taunt batman the next time he sees him. I can't ever buy him as anything other than a coward dumber than a bag of rocks that just Does Random Shit to people who can't fight back because he's a sadist, and gets away with it because unlike the people he faces, he has not an ounce of sense or morals or apprehension that could stop him. I'm not gonna lie and say I've ever enjoyed the joker as a character (I think he's trite and uninventive and his utter lack of inner life bores me), but this turn has made him completely unbearable, and his continuing survival all the more inexplicable the more dangerous he gets.

tl;dr the new 52 tried to fix a lot of shit that wasn't broken but these two examples make me want to ask for financial compensation.

[paladin-of-nerd-fandom65]

DC Comics Superhero OC: Quiver

(Artwork Made by @eerilyhollow )

Co Created by @confusedhummingbird and yours truly

Civilian Name: Camila Rodriguez Garcia

Age: 10 1/2 years

Height: 5’ 1”

Weight: 62 lbs

Personality: Ambitious, Adventurous, Kindhearted, Innovative, Willing to Learn From those She Trusts, Loving to her Parents and Generally Forgiving despite some Disagreements with them, Filled with Bravery, Unafraid to Stand Up for What’s Right, Outgoing, Friendly and Genuine With Her Words and Actions

Bio:

Born in Star City, Connecticut to firefighter Tomas Garcia and his wife Rosa who works as Nurse, Camila was raised more or less under their stern yet loving care without any major incidents during the first few years of her life. Early though, she began a small liking to the art of archery, inspired by some cartoons and movies her family would sit down to watch together, among them Robin Hood.

However her first foray into the world of superheroes and villains which turbo charged her interest in archery came when one day, at seven years old, Her family where visiting a nearby bank. All of the sudden, armed crooks and thieves held the staff and patrons visiting hostage as they made their way to the vaults with hopes to clear them out with the money for themselves. When Tomas attempts trying to stand up to ringleader of these thieves, he had said ringleader’s six barrel revolver aimed directly at his face. Just as little Camila was about to rush to save her Dad, suddenly an arrow knocks the pistol out of the leader’s hand, quickly letting everyone present to look and sure enough, Green Arrow, Red Arrow Black Canary and finally the blonde haired, yellow and red suited Speedy II had arrived, beginning to make quick work of these thieves.

Their amazing feats and skills as they dodged each and every bullet fired at them while firing back with arrows of all sorts from the traditional to the Boxing Glove and Exploding Trick ones were all a joy and wonder to behold for little Camila as her family held her close. Especially prominent of which were both Red Arrow and Speedy, most getting her attention with quippy back and forth banter and compliments to one another in the face of these odds. As the battle wraps to a close with the ringleader being taken down by Green Arrow’s boxing glove arrow, the Arrows checked everyone of the patrons for their safety and seeing if any were hurt, Speedy in particular walking to the Garcias. During which, Camila, with wonder in her eyes, reaches out to shake Speedy’s hand which she gladly and proudly accepts

Since then, Camila has attended numerous archery classes and clubs to improve her skills and hobby into new heights. This all comes for the as she secretly also begins sewing up her own suit, inspired by both the Speedy that rescued her family but also of another archer based hero, Arrowette from Young Just Us. However, in the midst of probably living up to a dream of being a small scale superhero of her own, a major bombshell in her life drops. Her parents had divorced; while cordial and respectful as they both have an understanding with each other and for certain beyond doubt they love their daughter, this was far more than what Camila can grasp at first. Even to the present day, the longer effects of this sudden divorce and its aftermath linger in her headspace when discussing with her parents.

As Rosa has primary custody of Camila, the two later moved from Star City to the environmentally progressive yet rather radically grim Bludhaven, New Jersey, renting out an apartment in a complex run by none other than Richard Grayson-Wayne, who’s own family of Kory, Mar’i and prominent for our story Jake, all reside within. Initial greeting with the Graysons were slow as per moving troubles and the like, but overtime within the months after doing so and first attending Bludhaven Academy, which has her attending many of the classes as Jake does, Camila starts adjusting accordingly and with confidence

Finally her big break came as she put the final touches on her suit. One day, local heroes Nightstar and Skybird were engaged in a massive brawl against resident local super criminals the HIVE Five but at first were hopelessly outmatched. Seeing these heroes in danger and wanting to prove herself, Camila puts on her finished suit, takes her bow and arrow and set and sticks to the shadows for a chance to strike on the side of the heroes. As a fist from Manmoth was about to pound into Skybird, she fires the arrow right to armored gauntlet around his fist, stunning him in shock and giving Skybird the chance for a knockout blow, finishing the fight with a victory for the good guys. It’s there Nightstar spots this archer clad in blue and white and the latter makes a run for it, afraid of their attention to her.

By the time she reaches her window to her bedroom and takes off her domino mask, she only needs to look behind to see both Nightstar and Skybird right outside, lightly tapping the window to let her know she can have her arrow back. Realizing there’s no use hiding it, Camila lets the two in, revealing herself as that archer who helped out against the HIVE; she only had a desire to help out and didn’t meant to get in their way. She almost starts pleading with the two not to tell her mother about this.

Thankfully at that moment, Nightstar and Skybird reveal themselves as her neighbors Mar’i and Jake, perfectly understanding her and promising not to tell either Rosa nor Tomas. After some talk about what inspired her and what she wants to do as an archer crime fighter, both Mar’i and Jake later take her to visit one particular other junior archer crime fighter who can vouch for her to receive some advanced training: Lian Harper, daughter of Red Arrow himself Roy. After some introductions are made and offers for her being trained by her hero Speedy herself, Mia Dearden, all that’s left now is her codename. That one was too easy for her.

By day she’s regular student and almost average girl Camila Garcia; at late afternoon, you can call her Quiver

Primary Teacher(s): Mia Dearden aka Speedy II and Cissie King Jones aka Arrowette

Occupation: Student at Bludhaven Academy, Member of numerous Junior Olympic Archery Development clubs, and Trainee for CPR Classes for Youths at Bludhaven General Hospital

Superhero Outfit: Blue Hood, Cape, Calve High Boots, Gauntlets, Domino Mask and Skirt with White undershirts and Calve high socks. Equipped with a Blue Bow and White Quiver Set

Physical Appearance:

Brown Hair and Brown Eyes when Unamsked

Hairstyle is Medium Length and Curly

Freckles Present on her Face

Trivia:

- Like Lian and Roy, Camila and her mother Rosa have strong taste buds able to withstand the spiciness of Ollie’s infamous Chili Recipe. Rosa goes as far as to make additions and spin offs to said recipe with her own ingredients. They prove more popular than Ollie’s only because more flavor comes in exchange for Spice

- While never wining any medals or trophies in previous archery competitions, Camila has come pretty close to them on several occasions, usually landing her in between Second and Third places frequently. It’s something she and Arrowette aka Cissie King Jones can be relate to

- While not an outright member as of yet, similar also to Penelope Troy, Camila is indeed a close ally of both the Titans of Tomorrow and Team StarKnights due to her friendship with Mar’i and Jake. And yes like the many members on both teams, she’s well aware of Jake’s hidden crush for his classmate Meredith Robinson though unlike the others, she’s the one mostly likely to let Jake and Meredith have their personal space from each other out of respect for their feelings.

- Speaking of Penny, both Camila and her are both very close with each other as friends as well, Penny even offering Camila Amazon based Archery techniques she knows by heart to which Camila gladly accepts and slumber parties between them are common as well

[monstersdownthepath]

Monster Spotlight: Taotieh

CR 11

Neutral Large Construct

Bestiary 3, pg. 260

Construction Requirements: Craft Construct, and a caster level of at least 14. Geas/Quest, Limited Wish, and Plane Shift, Craft (Sculpture) or Craft (Stonemasonry) with a of DC 25.

A Taotieh is constructed from 12,000 pounds of marble treated with specialized unguents, but marble of any quality can be used, and the unguents don’t have a listed price. However...

Cost to Build: The curious internal extradimensional processes of a Taotieh, not to mention the careful carving, shaping, and assembling of its marble body will gouge its creator’s wallet by 55,000 gold!

These grinding gluttonous guardians are constructed by civilizations who not only want their sacred sites protected, but want intruders to suffer for their trespass. They’re mindless Constructs, beholden to the orders of their creator and thus easily outwitted and avoided if players know how the creatures are “programmed” (such as if they cannot go too far from the location they guard), but if their creator is present to give them orders, they become far more fearsome.

For the purposes of this article, however, we’re focusing on the Taotieh on its own. As a mindless Construct, it has no skill ranks and thus no ability or desire to use stealth; the party will likely hear it coming from dozens of yards away. Unfortunately this won’t be much help, because much like the big cats they resemble, a Taotieh exists to deliver a single devastating Pounce and then lay into its target with its Full-Attack. A simple CCB machine, the Full-Attack of the Tao is nonetheless frightening: the claws deal 1d6+10 and the bite 1d8+10. Being hit by both claws allows the stone kitty to Rake the victim for an additional 1d6+10 damage, bringing its minimum possible damage per round to 44! Average damage hovers around 60, usually more than enough to frighten whoever got Pounced on during the surprise round after what everyone believed was just a giant marble statue came charging 80ft down a temple wall.

Much like most other creatures made of solid rock, the stony hide of a Taotieh has 10 DR that’s only bypassed by adamantine weapons, and wielders of the elements are likely to be frustrated upon finding out the blessed marble they’re made from confers 10 Resistance to every element... except Sonic, which they’re vulnerable to. Unfortunately, most damaging Sonic spells tend to be AoE effects, and Tao tend to spend a lot of time directly on top of your party. Oh, wait, no, there goes the Fighter. Perfect, now you can use Shout!

Where’d the Fighter go, you ask? Where he’s probably not getting out on his own. All three of a Tao’s attacks Grab whatever they hit, and if a Tao begins its turn with a Large or smaller creature grappled, it can use a standard action to unhinge its jaws and swallow them whole. Such unlucky victims aren’t thrown into a pit of acid or a crushing stone stomach, but an airless, lightless space made of solid stone that’s just barely big enough for their body. The victims are considered grappled and thus have few options for getting out of what will swiftly become their tomb, the space grimly noted to only have enough air to sustain the creature for 3 rounds before they have to hold their breath. 

Even a creature with just 10 Con can hold their breath for a while, but that’s all they can really do in there. Unless they have some means to damage the stone that surrounds them--stone with Hardness 8 that’s resistant or outright immune to most non-bludgeoning damage, 18 AC that’s difficult to hit while grappled, and 25 HP besides--they’re forced to simply pray to whatever powers that be that their allies can free them before they die a nigh-unavoidable death. The Shout spell can be cast while grappled, and the Tao ARE vulnerable to Sonic, so it’s good to keep that in mind just in case you decide to use the last of your breath to scream.

Tao can hold up to four creatures in its extradimensional stomach at a time, but has no way to remove its dead (or insane) victims on its own, relying on its caster casting Plane Shift on it to clear its guts out. Otherwise, a victim must cut themselves out, leaping from the statue’s mouth if they manage to break out of their prison... but this in no way impacts the Tao’s function, and it CAN in fact swallow the victim right back next round with no penalty, a brand new coffin forming around the poor, unfortunate soul.

I do like the final touch in the Tao’s lore in the book, pointing out that creatures that don’t need to breathe can survive for quite a while in the space the creature creates for them. Killing a Tao frees every trapped entity inside it all at once, potentially allowing players to claim treasures of unfortunate victims long past... but they may also end up freeing something significantly more malevolent and insane that was trapped inside. Or, perhaps, if they’re lucky they’ll find a new ally instead...?

You can read more about them here.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: Snowflame

(WARNING! This analysis contains C-C-C-COCAINE!)

Imagine this absurd concept: A supervillain cartel boss whose powers are fueled by him getting high off his own supply. Imagine too that this man wears a ridiculous outfit, and exists to be an anti-drug PSA that fails epically because he makes doing drugs look awesome. Now also imagine that everything about him is played completely straight without a single bit of acknowledgment of how absurd and campy the whole thing is.

That, my friends, is Snowflame.

The New Guardians is a comic series that would have been long forgotten as a crusty relic of the late 80s if not for giving the world the absolute coolest villain ever conceived. Snowflame has amassed a cult following the likes of which would make Jim Jones envious, due to the sheer absurdity of his existence and the pure unadulterated action movie villain charm of his dialogue. He’s perhaps one of the most minor villains out there with only a handful of appearances to his name, but he’s loved more than villains who’ve appeared twenty times as much as him.

I’m here to show you why.

Motivation/Goals: Snowflame is a cartel leader, and so he really wants to peddle drugs. Guess which drug is his forte. Go on, guess. And that’s really all there is to him! I need to reiterate that his threat as a cartel leader is played completely and utterly straight even as he spouts off the hammiest dialogue you’ve ever seen and literally gets a power up by snorting coke. This is the very core of his appeal, in that he is something genuinely terrifying and threatening but presented in a way only a comic book can pull off.

Of course, his true motivation is far, far simpler.

Look at this man. That is the face of a man who exists solely to snort illicit substances up his nose. He lives to be high. That is the extent of his desires, and all else is second to that simple goal. As long as he can ignite and continue to be the instrument of cocaine's will, he is satisfied.

Final Fate: Every single time Snowflame shows up, he dies. In his initial appearance, he apparently blows up, but three decades later, he makes his coke-fueled return to do battle with Catwoman, and despite inhaling enough cocaine to kill an elephant, a feat that should theoretically make him nigh invincible, he fucking dies.

...Or does he? Snowflame returns yet again in Peacemaker Tries Hard! Here he does battle with, you guessed it,

...who puts a poison dart frog in his cocaine and kills him.

Maybe. My theory is that Snowflame is the Kenny of the DC universe, and whenever some bastard kills him his coke-fueled powers just respawn him the next day.

Best Scene: While his fight against Catwoman is unfortunately lackluster as ordained by the writers (Selina is not lasting two seconds against Snowflame and his coke-fueled powers under realistic circumstances), it gave us one of the most gorgeous and badass panels ever made:

Really brings a tear to your eye, doesn’t it?

Best Quote: Yeah, there’s no fucking contest here, it’s this:

Final Thoughts & Score: I think I speak for all of us when I say Snowflame is one of the greatest fucking characters ever conceived.

Everything about him is a towering testament to what makes the medium of comic books great. The best villains tend to be the wildest and most out-there concepts, like a giant alien starfish that mind controls people, or a gay gorilla in love with a brain in a jar, or a giant racist communist egg. And don’t even get me started on the villains the Doom Patrol fights! Snowflame is the epitome of that; he is what would happen if Tony Montana was a DC supervillain by way of Captain Planet. He is absurd, over-the-top, and so goddamn cool.

It’s very obvious they were trying to do an anti-drug PSA here given the time the comic was released, but it absolutely falls flat on its face when the strawman constructed to be defeated so that the lesson might be dispersed is an absolute lunatic who dresses in colorful spandex and spouts off the most epic lines to ever come out of a villain’s mouth. Everything about him is absurd, but unlike something like Egg Fu he’s absurd in a tasteful and cool way rather than a shockingly racist way. Snowflame is just a dude who snorts cocaine to gain superpowers, it’s as simple as that and yet it’s also completely bonkers.

It’s genuinely unsurprising that this guy managed to get such a massive cult following that he spawned a fanmade webcomic and then got to pop up in the comics again over three decades after his supposed death. And it’s said cult following that has allowed him to pop up time and time again, even getting an appearance in the fourth season of Harley Quinn. I’m sure you can guess that I’m part of that massive cult fanbase, and I can only dream of writing a villain as incredible and grandiose as this drug-addled madman. Infinity/10 isn’t a real score, so he’ll have to settle for a 10/10 instead.

...Oh yeah, remember in the Egg Fu review when I said I wasn’t going to review Hemo-Goblin?

Psycho Analysis: Hemo-Goblin

This is gonna be really short, because there is so little to this guy. He is a one-shot, but boy what a fucking shot he is. Hemo-Goblin is a racist vampire created by South African white supremacists to give members of the New Guardians AIDS. You read that right. This is a racist AIDS vampire.

Now, unlike Egg Fu, who was a horrible racist caricature created from topical anti-communist sentiments of the time, Hemo-Goblin was seemingly created with better intentions. But you know what they say about intentions; the road to Hell is paved with good ones. I get wanting to do a commentary on the AIDS crisis, and I don’t think it’s out of the question for a superhero book to handle such a thing, but maybe having an AIDS-powered vampire give HIV to a Jamaican woman and a gay man isn’t the most tasteful and nuanced way to do this.

Oh, and by the end of his only appearance, he dies of AIDS in jail.

I’m not gonna lie, guys: I kinda love this stupid fucking creature. His weird design, the absurdity of his concept, and the awful execution of his premise makes him memorable for all the wrong reasons, but he’s memorable nonetheless. I think if Snowflame didn’t exist and wasn’t the coolest villain ever, more people would talk about the insanity that is Hemo-Goblin, though having a single appearance before dying and never appearing again doesn’t help his case much. Still, he’s just cazy enough to earn himself a 3.5/10, so he’s got that going for him.