#blood-son

[chiropterx]

a box of “bat magic: bat repellent”

(yes it’s a real thing)

Leave an object in my ask and my muse will react to it being given to them.

The box is prodded then promptly speared with his thumb claw, his curiousity piqued after hearing something rattle inside. Boxes held many things and the bright colours had attracted his attention as did the words Bat Magic. Whatever could be inside? Man-Bat brought the box to his nose and rattled it some more, then took a sniff through the tear he'd made before squealing in rage, flinging the box away with violent force. You're going to need a bigger box.

[twcfaces]

“ do you ever think about the consequences of your actions? “

"I think about the consequences of fate. It's all anyone ever has. Action or inaction. Kindness or apathy. Live or die.

Good people are punished. Bad people walk away to become worse. It's all just a matter of how the coin falls. How fate decides to treat us. Could I put the gun down? Absolutely. Will I?"

A quick flip of his silver dollar.

"Oh, I guess not."

[king-crane]

SNAKES.

@blood-son

It was hard to describe, truly.

Every dog had its day, but Crane wasn't a dog.

A snake. Laying in wait for the time to strike -- let the dogs like Cobblepot and Joker and Tetch squabble over scraps. He didn't have the funds that Cobblepot did, the technology that Tetch did, and certainly not the charisma and personality that Joker did.

But he was smart, and he was patient.

When fear lingers, it begins to fester. The smallest twitch, the smallest reaction could make even a worm explode with righteous fury and anger, powered by adrenaline and the mighty amygdala. Crane was no worm, either -- he crushed those beneath his feet.

He was a snake.

He was smart, and he was patient.

So, when the fear had been allowed to fester... no, when it had been nurtured, for so long, with no true outlet, it was only right that his response be extraordinary.

Gotham was his. At least for the night, she was his, until the next wannabe tried to steal her away from him, or The Bat came to collect his dues.

Fear gas flooded the streets, and through it all, The Scarecrow walked tall, Jonathan Crane buried deep, deep beneath. Furiously scribbling down notes, the Scarecrow observed. He was no physician, but even he could tell when someone was too weak to recover, and so he did the merciful thing.

Eight souls departed. Doctor Mercer back in Arkham would be disappointed in his spiral, in this episode -- but he was barely even a fucking professional. A hack, was what he was. He tasted fear, and he wanted more. He'd break that worm beneath his feet soon enough, but right now it was time for the rats, scurrying from one place to another in an effort to escape him.

He was no rat.

He was a snake.

He was smart, and he was patient.

Chestnut hair. Muscular build. Above average height. The specimen practically presented itself to him, and without missing a step, Crane approached, grabbing the victim by the neck to haul him to his feet. Pupils dilated. Shallow breathing -- but he was conscious. And when his eyes landed on Crane, Crane could see the tiniest flicker of anger.

Good. Good.

"Quite the promising specimen, you are." The gentle rasping of Crane's voice reverberated from beneath his mask, vibrating like a purr deep within his chest. With his free hand, Phobos was readied, a flick of his wrist filling the syringes on the end of the gloved claw. "Let's explore further, shall we?"

Before he could plunge further, however, a sharp pain hit his arm and he was forced to drop the specimen, clutching at his wrist. The pain was familiar, but all too foreign at the same time. Usually he would hear a Batarang coming, but this...

His eyes searched for his attacker, until they landed on a familiar half-pint.

Well, not truly familiar.

He hadn't had the pleasure of meeting the current Robin -- or at least he didn't think he did. Nightwing? Sure, of course. The Red Robin? Yeah -- a bit derivative, but yes.

This one?

Crane stood at his full height, amongst corpses and screaming victims.

"Where's your daddy, pipsqueak?"

[envychosen]

@blood-son cont. from here

how much more pretentious could this guy get? really? the phrasing conjured images of gothic teenagers convinced they were different. the ones that were desperate to prove they were unique, different, or weird as if it were some sort of badge of honor to be an insufferable edgelord. surprisingly that was about the only issue damian had with the man. yes he knew enough to know he had been a thorn in the justice league’s side on more than one occasion, but damian tried to avoid looking towards the past. he knew first hand how frustrating it could be when people were convinced your past determined your future.

“are you trying to make him cringe to death?”

perhaps damian was wrong to put any level of trust in this man. he knew his father wouldn’t have. but if he was wrong, he was prepared to deal with the consequences of his actions tonight would not be the first time damian had to kick two asses in a single night and he knew it wouldn’t be the last time either. but he was convinced he could take this guy in a fight, look at how lame his catchphrases were. the robin continued his pursuit, chasing after his target almost silently. a shadow of a bat in the night. his father would have to find them on his own. damian couldn’t wait around forever.

he threw a batarang at his target, pinning his clothing to the wall at least momentarily. he glanced at his sidekick assistant. if there were anymore edgy comments out of his mouth tonight damian was going to scream. it was all far too reminiscent of jason todd. the riding of the fine line between hero and villain. the edgy tamari’s. the way that they were both balding. and as much as damian loved jason, he really didn’t need nor want a second one around. when he spoke up his voice and commands were both direct, “get on the other side of him in case he attempts to flee.”

Oh, to be so green to the scene catchphrases even come to mind...perhaps if he were Billy Batson. Holy Moly, Batman!

Dr. Sivana, thanks in part to the distortion effect slowing the world down within the boundaries of Fawcett City, has had decades to perfect his craft. He's grown from mogul to mad scientist to force to be reckoned with, and perhaps the only host of the Seven Deadly Enemies of Man to not go utterly insane from the pressure. Perhaps he already was to begin with. Here, now, it's a simple matter of making use of the magic he's sacrificed so much for- a set of abilities created with the sole intent of destroying its target and its host.

There's a reason he's never bothered to take on a secret identity.

For every step Robin must take, Sivana simply flies, feeling Wrath rumble for blood in his mind.

YOU ARE HERE FOR A REASON. DO NOT LOSE SIGHT OF YOUR OWN MISSION- FORGET THE BOY.

"Yes," he says, though his gaze is not on Robin. He alights down, one foot and then the other, but he's not holding a position. Not a soul- not a hero, not a villain, not a multiverse-eating worm from space- gives him orders. A foot lashes out, his speed inhuman...as well as the strength behind his coiled, lean frame. Its heel strikes the man in the shin, bright red soles stained even more so as the shin cracks, caves, splinters, compounds. The screams don't make him flinch, but a whirl of smoke is rising behind him.

"Where's the weapon." Deadpan. He's not in the mood to wait for anyone else to try and interrogate. He's all for efficiency, not mercy. Behind him, the smoke shifts. Something large and winged is waiting for a chance to pounce.

Why guard the alley when one of his demons can do it for him?

Why guard it at all when all the enemy can do is crawl?

[nerdpoe]

"Daniel, I know this is unorthodox, cornering you in your school cafeteria, but you leave me no choice. I am your father." Said Bruce Wayne, after effectively trapping a teenager in a corner.

"No you're not."

"Daniel I have a DNA te-"

"No you're not. Fuck off."

And with that Bruce Wayne's actual firstborn literally fell backwards out of a window to escape from him before bolting in the direction of a football field.

"Dude that was, like, super creepy," A blond jock says, eyeing Bruce like he's some sort of creepy creep, "I feel so bad for Fenturd to even have to talk to you, I'm not gonna bully him for a whole week, what the fuck."

[dementedspeedster]

@blood-son liked for a starter

Oh, Thad knew this wasn't his usual territory, and that he didn't have any right to be here given what he had heard about how the bats treated rogues who operated outside of their typical jurisdiction and crossed into Gotham, but that didn't deter him from taking a good paying job. Especially something as easy as the snatch and grab he had been hired for. But for now that could wait as spotted the young bird he called out to him.

“Hey! Just what is the allure of the legacy of Robin? You're young. Is this really what you want?" Thad knew this wasn’t his business in the least. But there was just something about seeing young heroes that made Thad stop and wonder. Was there something he was missing? Was he simply jaded? Would he have made similar choices in his youth? He wanted to know.

[ookamihanta]

I'll be your everything We'll be together, yes forever

[autisticrosewilson]

While we're on the topic of De-aging AU's I wanna talk about Jason and Damian if Jason was 14 again real quick.

Do you guys think that Damian looks at this version of Jason, so different from the version he knows, nothing like the person he was told Jason was, and feels uncomfortably seen?

Damian was always told that Jason died because he was reckless, because he disobeyed orders, he was fired as Robin and he got himself killed. A cautionary tale, not a threat to his position. He dismisses Jason because Bruce does, because Dick does, because sometimes even Babs and Alfred do.

That's not the kid that he's looking at now. This Jason is happy, and smart, and full of love that has not yet soured into grief. He hangs on Bruce's every word, trains until his hands bleed and his body gives out to perfect the moves Bruce teaches him. He looks at Bruce with stars in his eyes and he calls him dad.

And Damian can't help but think, that this is the perfect Robin. The perfect son. And if Jason - sweet, loving, strong, Jason - can be fired, can die and have his room locked away and his pictures torn down, can have his last memory as Robin be as A Good Soldier, how could the rest of them ever compete? What could Damian do to stand a chance?

Jason will never grow out of the shadow of Robin, like the rest of them did. As long as Bruce, and Dick, and Babs, and Alfred look at him and see a dead kid who came back wrong, he will never get to be anything else. He will not get to be looked at through who he is now without the shadow of a dead boy looming over him.

And the worst part? Jason is exactly the same person he was back then. Bitter, sure, angry, justifiably, but he is still the boy with too much love in his heart and righteous fury festering in his gut. He is exactly the same boy who threw himself in front of an explosion to save his mother.

(The lines between the mother that betrayed him and the father that disgraced him are so very blurred. Fire or blade or crowbars or fists it does not matter. It ends the same way it always does because Jason Todd always dies, in every universe, in every timeline, Jason dies and crawls out only to be killed again and again and again.)

[greyangelpain]

she's literally the best choice, i dont care what anyone says ^-^

[serennes-art]

son of naga, daughter of grima

happy belated chrobin week! *passes out*

[tanglepelt]

Dc x dp idea 113

Danny was falsely arrested. How dare the store. He may look homeless being on the run from his parents and all.

But really.

All he did was stuff the item in his pocket so he could help someone grab an item.

They didn’t even give him the chance to explain. He had the money. Sam insisted on giving him cash before he ran.

When they took his fingerprints he really didn’t mind. He was running from his parents not the government. As soon as he was left alone he’d high tail it out of Gotham.

To bad he wouldn’t be left alone. Being Bruce Wayne’s kidnapped son was not on his bingo card.

Now Bruce Wayne billionaire had never expected to have his son be found. Never for him to be found stealing food and obviously homeless.

[kroovv]

Just my perfectly innocent druid Hemlock definitely no dark urges here ✨🌿

[twcfaces]

“ what are your thoughts on the batman? “

He flips his coin. Yes, good.

"Batman, Batman--- Harvey was nervous about working with someone who wasn't, you know- above the board. He was so thrilled, though- he really thought he'd get somewhere, for once in his life, he could do some real good. He looked up to Batman, to someone who could go into the darkness but not become it. Who could encounter the worst of the worst but repress any urge to act like one of them.

I wanted to be like that. I wanted to look Gotham in the face at its worst, and look abusers and murderers and drug peddlers in the eye and put them the hell away. That's what I wanted. That's what Harvey wanted, more than anything. To help Batman."

Two-Face laughs, hollow and mocking.

"And look where that got him! I'm not going to tell you I blame him for what happened to us. The mob does what it does, and would have found a way to hurt us anyway--- but I trusted that we were doing the right thing. I believed in Batman. I tried so hard to be good.

Then, what? I'm the one it comes down on? I'm the one that doesn't get to hide my face behind that stupid cowl! I was good, damn it! I kept it all down! I played by their rules and in their court, and I was punished for it.

I was punished for being fair. For not planting evidence, for not going after the mob with a shotgun and blowing their heads off.

And Batman? Batman..."

He raises both hands to his face.

"He gets to hide both of his faces. Harvey doesn't. Not anymore.

I hope he dies. I hope he kills me. I don't know. Just don't ask anymore."

[terrorofthetrident]

viserys really looked at their heart-wrenchingly sad faces and completely disregarded them

[noxcheshire]

HOT TAKE

But I like the idea of the phantom world being reincarnated into very unexpected people.

Like I still love the idea of Danny being Martha or Thomas.

Or Dani being another clone, or her being Damian, and Sam being Poison Ivy and or Martha, etc.

But I also like the unhinged nonsense of Sam being a clone in the dc world — ideally Kon, and Dani (or Dan) being Bruce, while Vlad is gasp Thomas Wayne.

HEAR ME OUT

JUST HEAR ME OUT

I just think the idea of Danny finding out that in an alternate world he married a nicer and age appropriate Vlad and had the son the guy has been demanding for so long in their world is hilarious.

The absolute mental breakdown that boy will go through: this is my son, and I love him, look at him go being a hero and kicking ass, but holy fucking Ancients above I fucked VLAD —

And on the other hand, can you imagine Bruce’s reaction? To his alternate mom being a sassy teenage boy, his alternate dad being an older guy ‘preying’ on this kid that absolutely HATES the guy, and being an absolute creep while his alt self **gestures to your choosing** is either a tiny girl menace or the biggest and meanest growling ghost that is BARELY tolerating being in the same space as the living.

But they also hate his alternate dad and would punch him into next week with Mom! Danny.

This man will being going THROUGH IT.

[nerdpoe]

Little Dami found a Genies Lamp! Little Dami has made A Wish!

Damian, nine, is tired of his instructors and training. Physically, he's tired. He wants a break.

He hides out in an old room in Nanda Parbat, and finds the stereotypical genies lamp, like from the stories one of his American nannies told.

"I wish I never, ever had to walk again."

It's said in jest, and quietly. He doesn't mean it.

Desiree, however, doesn't care.

By the time Talia finds him, Damian is slamming a metal pitcher on the ground, shouting about kicking a Djinn's ass.

He has a...fish tail.

That is. Not ideal, in a desert.