#bruce killed joker once and tried at least twice more

[trekkele]

ok time to be negative again i cannot stand the trope “character x finds out bruce ““let”” his sons murderer live and chews him out then goes to kill joker” because 60% of the time its a character who has an independent no kill rule, and absolutely zero business yelling at Bruce about anything. Fuck ooooooffffff with the guilt tripping about bruce not committing murder!!!!!

[a-short-alien]

JASON!!!!! I love him oh so much it’s actually incredible he looks a little funky in the doodles but it’s okay don’t look at that

In this AU, there was actually no plan to kill Jason. The Joker had decided that the reason his original plan of “getting his own Robin” didn’t work because he just picked some random kid. He decided this time, he needed to get a real Robin to fill the roll. So he kidnapped Jason during one his and Batman’s more heated fights and essentially convinced him that the Batman had left him for dead while Bruce was entirely convinced Jason had been killed. Jason, similar to Clown was put into intensive near daily training, but Jason being… Jason, he resisted quite a bit, causing the Joker to be much harder on him. Clown tried his best to look out for Jason (not fully understanding why he was there) for those months. Whenever he wasn’t busy with training, Clown was usually there to distract him from their current situation. Jason, though young and full of rage, seemed to understand why Clown didn’t fight back, he didn’t feel like he should have to pay for a fight their fathers were having, so they got along well. Some nights they’d talk for hours about really anything but Batman and the Joker. After around six months of this though, Bruce found out Jason was still alive and being held captive. In a moment of desperation, he rushed over to collect Jason but Joker found out. This led to him moving him to a warehouse, trying to threaten the Batman away with harming Jason, but Batman kept pursuit, leading the the Joker simply “giving up” on the operation and blowing the warehouse up with Jason inside. This would become the main driving force that motivated Clown to leave home. After Jason died some of the pieces began to fall together and though, he knew his father was bad he only fully realized in that moment. After leaving, Clown visited Jason’s grave often, at least once or twice a month, apologizing for not doing more, having the conversations they used to have, ect. Once the timeline changed and Jason was back, the two met and became great friends again, especially after Clown detailed the whole “leaving his entire life behind for Jason’s sake” thing. They now hang out every so often, even working together on taking down some drug trades together on rare occasion.

Jason sees “clown” as an insult so he prefers to call him Jackie

Kept their friendship kind of secret for quite a bit so when Dick introduced the two you can only imagine how shocked he was when they got along so well

Though he never asked him to, Clown usually takes off the makeup around Jason just out of respect

The two refuse to tell anyone but Dick how they met and even he’s left in the dark about most of the details of their friendship

Jason loves to flirt with strangers but when they reciprocate he’s disgusted and runs off (aroace Jason is my fav)

They never really tell anyone when they hang out, they just sort of both disappear for 6-8 hours every so often

They actually met back up one of the days Clown had been visiting Jay’s grave and nearly had a heart attack when he just popped out

Bond over the fact that neither of them can use a phone for any reason because Clown was either in the clutches of the Joker or too poor and Jason was Dead so now that they have these little computers at their disposal they’re both completely at a loss

[th3sp4rr0w]

Day Six

A03 Link <- Starts at Chapter/Day One for those just joining us :))

Prompts For Day Six Conditioning/Mind Control/Forced To Hurt Someone Else

Alt. Prompt For Day Six Crying To Sleep

Prompts Used for Day Six All

Tw's; Guns, Blood, Implied Sexual Assault, Being Mind Controlled/Not Having Control of One's Body

Chapter Six under the cut :)

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

Jason braced himself as Joker picked him up and threw him at Sheila’s feet. He tried his best not to cry out.

He knew he’d already given the Joker what he wanted, but he couldn’t give up. This would destroy them. He knew somewhere, deep down, that if Joker killed him today, he would never be at peace. They would never be the same. He got the same feeling in his gut that he did when Sheila had first started being cagey about Bruce knowing about her.

He was not going to make the same mistake twice.

He forced himself to think of his training. Batman and Nightwing had always told him that if he got captured, first thing was to think of an escape plan. Check. Next was, that if that wasn’t possible or you had to wait for the right moment, that you had to lay low. Half-check, he wasn’t sure if throwing a wing ding at the Joker counted as ‘laying low’.

He kept his breathing under control. It was getting harder to track where the mad man was, his body on fire as Joker kept...

If he was going to survive this, he couldn’t think about that. He kept his cries and whimpers to himself until, all at once, it stopped.

He cracked an eye open in time to watch Joker get a box cutter. He crawled on top of Jason with mutterings of, “Don’t worry, Birdie, Uncle Joker is gonna take care of you,” followed by, “Now stay still. This is gonna hurt you a lot more than it will me.” He was laughing.

He didn’t think the Joker would ever stop laughing. He steeled himself as Joker held his head down against the rough concrete floor and made the first cut. It was deep. He knew it had to be because it took a bit for it to start gushing blood.

He was pretty sure he knew what it was. He could feel the top of it near the top of his cheek bone, feel as it crawled just below his top set of teeth, and come dangerously close to hitting the top of his lip as it curled upwards again, stopping parallel to his nostril.

The Joker had carved a fucking ‘J’ into his right cheek.

He stood still as Joker worked the blade against exposed skin, sometimes carving more ‘J’s into his delicate flesh, other times just marring it with cuts. He felt like a canvas instead of a boy.

“What’s wrong, Birdie?” Joker asked maliciously, “You were crying for Daddy earlier, what’s with the silent treatment?”

Robin bit his tongue. If he pushed too hard, he knew the man would get fed up and end him right then.

The man stood up and kicked him between the ribs, which he was pretty sure were at least cracked. He thought he felt one shift around as he did so.

He braced for more impacts, squeezing his eyes shut. When none came, he peaked cautiously.

Joker and Sheila were fighting about something. He felt like he was in a bubble; he could make out what they were saying if he tried to focus, but if he didn’t listen too hard, it was like being underwater and trying to guess what your older brother and his friends are talking about on the side of the pool... not that he’d ever done that to Dick. Definitely not.

He decided he’d better listen and focused on them.

“... You really should listen, Blondie, ‘cause I ain’t askin’-”

“You can’t ask this of me. This wasn’t the deal.”

“Then let’s strike a new deal,” he growled.

He pushed the blonde up against the crates. She cried out.

“You either hurt him,” he said as he...

Oh. Robin looked away for both their sake.

“Or I hurt both of you much, much worse,” he said, almost too low for Jason to hear.

Sheila was quiet for a moment until she nodded.

He released her, grinning, “Good choice, doll. Go on, now,” he handed her the crowbar, “Go, have some fun .”

Sheila looked down at him like he was something she had found on the bottom of her shoe. She raised the crowbar.

Robin protected his head with his arms as she swung.

Her swings weren’t as hard as the Joker’s, but that hardly mattered to his already battered and bruised body. For a moment he felt like it would never end. That he’d die like this. He steeled himself.

Batman was coming. Batman had to save him.

He lost himself in his thoughts, barely keeping enough composure to try and keep his yelps and cries to himself. He felt her shatter his knees further with Joker’s encouragement in the background.

Batman had to come. Batman cared about him. At the very least, he knew if he died like this, Dick would blame Bruce instead of listening to what he was saying. This was all Jason’s fault. He shouldn’t have-

Well. He shouldn’t have done a lot of things. This might’ve been the stupidest thing he’d ever done.

Sitting there on the concrete flooring was hell. That was when he noticed that Joker was moving around, looking like he was... prepping something?

Anytime Sheila slowed down, Joker yelled out some sort of threat and the abuse continued. Jason vaguely wondered how long he could go on like this.

He noticed the Joker making his way towards the front of the warehouse. He had a sinking feeling he knew what was about to happen. He strained his ears.

“Yoo-hoo~! Blondie~!” he called from where he stood. Sheila stopped mid-air, dropping the crowbar where she stood. “It’s been fun, truly, but I’ve got to scram before Batsy shows up. Oh, and I left you a little present on the back wall there. Ta-ta now, birdie, say hello to daddy for me!~”

He left out the door before either of them could utter another word.

Sheila ran to the exit, leaving Jason behind before- “It’s locked!"

“What’d... you thin ‘ould... ‘appen?” he wheezed out.

She ran back to him, “Come on, get up and... oh no.”

Jason looked up at her best he could. His vision was swimming, probably having something to do with the amount of blood spread over him. “Wha’ is it?” he slurred.

He followed her gaze. 9:43... 9:42... 9:41...

“Bomb,” he was out of breath. “I, I can’... hands,” he held up his shaking hands. If he tried to mess with that thing now, he’d kill them both.

“Okay. Okay, uh...” she started grabbing him by the underarms.

“Don’t!” Jason no, stop, he had to be Robin right now yelped. The fresh wave of adrenaline cleared his head enough to speak a little more clearly, staving off most of the shock. “Don’t. Dragging me over there is losing precious time. Go over there and tell me what you see.”

Sheila dropped him on the ground and ran towards the bomb. Robin breathed in, smelling gasoline. They were so fucked.

He remembered when he and Batman came across a Joker warehouse. The bat had refused to let him go inside, stating it was too dangerous. They could smell gasoline from the outside, just like this. They lost half the hostages when the building exploded and half of the ones they’d saved because the doc the warehouse was on went up in flames too quick to pull them to land. Dick had spent the night in the manor, dragging him to Bruce’s bed-

Don’t think about it. Comfort can wait- this can’t.

It had been the first mass casualty he’d seen as Robin.

“Okay, uh, I see... six wires. Oh god, we’re gonna die.”

“Sheila, what color are they?”

“I can’t do this, I can’t, I went to med school for fuck’s sake-”

“ Sheila! ”

“I just wanted to go home tonight and relax-”

Robin threw a lollipop at her. It bounced off her shoulder and onto the floor.

“You need to get your shit together!” he yelled.

“I’m not cut out for this!” she cried.

“Yeah, well, you’re the genius who decided to fuck with the Joker!” he yelled back. He tried to prop himself up on his elbows and hit the ground. “ You’re gonna get us killed if you don’t fucking stop it! What color are the wires!”

It was silent for a terrifying moment. “Two yellow-”

“If there’s more than one yellow...” he heard Batman’s voice in his head.

“Any red?” he asked.

“... Yes.”

“And any red, cut...”

“Cut the fourth wire.”

“Good job, Robin.”

“With what?”

“Why are the gloves so thick?” “To protect your hands. They can’t conduct electricity because...”

Robin cursed under his breath. “Anything at this point! Grab a piece of rubber to protect your hand and use the wing ding!”

“What’s a wing ding?”

He was going to scream. “The thing I threw at the Joker earlier!” he shouted. His breathing labored and for a second he felt like he couldn’t get air in.

“Oh,” her voice was faint. She looked around for a second before finding some hosing, spotting the wing ding shortly after. Robin watched as she cut into the hosing to make a grip for her hand and cut the wire. “Okay, what do I do now? It’s still counting down!”

“If you cut the wires, and the bomb’s still counting, check-”

Robin took a breath. “Are there batteries on the bomb?”

He heard her make a wounded noise. “Y-yes!”

“How many?”

“Ho-how many?”

“Yes! How many batteries!”

“Um, oh god, two!”

“If there are two batteries, there’s probably a-”

“Is there a button?”

“Yes!”

“Color is important, because...”

“Color?”

“White!”

“Press and release it immediately .”

“I’m scared!”

“Bruce? What if I get scared?” he’d asked so long ago.

The bat had looked down at him, expression stoic. “It’s okay to get scared. But you need to keep yourself together. Otherwise-”

Robin swore loudly. “You can’t have a break down every fucking time we need to do something! Do you want to live? Then fucking listen to me. Press the fucking button, Sheila.”

“Remember, little wing, a little bit of kindness in a dark situation can be the difference between saving a life, or not. People don’t respond well to scare tactics in the field. You need to...”

She pressed the button.

Robin sighed when they didn’t blow to bits. “Good, that’s good, you’re doing great!” he yelled out, remembering what Nightwing said about traumatized hostages. “Now, how’s the counter?”

“Six and a half minutes left!”

“Still counting down?”

“Yes!"

“Okay, how are...”

He kept trying to talk her through diffusing the explosive. Although still nervous, she became much more tolerable, not freaking out as bad as before.

He thought a lot about his bomb training. He’d never thought he’d be the one giving the instructions one day, let alone in these circumstances. He figured one day he might be training the next Robin, but this was just...

He snapped back to reality. He kept talking Sheila through the different parts of the bomb, instructing her on how to use the tools around them to do so. They didn’t have the luxury of having screwdrivers and wire cutters right now, but they did have wing dings to spare and rubber hosing. He thought Batman would be proud of him for remembering that particular day, when he talked Jason through how to disarm this thing if there were civilians and/or no tools around. He thought it was so stupid at the time, told Bruce that Clark may have the nickname, but Bruce was the true boy scout of the bunch.

He regretted that now.

She had finally gotten the last panel off.

“Okay, now what?”

“What’s behind the thing?”

“More wires!”

“Okay,” he said, “It probably wouldn’t blow anymore, but better safe than sorry. You’re doing great. How many and what colors?”

“5, 2 red, 1 black, 2 yellow.”

“Is the black wire the last one?”

“No, second.”

“Cut the first wire.”

Sheila whooped. “It stopped! Two minutes and thirty-one seconds!”

Jason smiled where he lay. He started attempting to drag himself to the door, intending on picking the lock and waiting for the Bat outside.

His stomach swooped. Something was wrong.

He watched Sheila as she started looking through all of the different supplies they had. He saw that most of them had been tampered with in some way or another. His feeling grew.

“Trust your gut, Robin. That’s what it’s there for.”

“What if I’m wrong?”

“Better to be wrong and safe than wrong and sorry.”

Robin was sick of being wrong and sorry.

He pulled himself into a sitting position, allowing himself to lean up against the door. His senses went in and out. One moment he couldn’t hear his own breathing, the next he swore he could hear what Sheila was muttering under her breath.

What was...

His hearing went out before he could identify what he’d just heard. He strained again, focusing everything he had until... There!

Tik... tik... tik...

His heart dropped.

He opened his eyes. He started looking over the other side of the warehouse, ignoring everything else for now. He scanned the boxes and crates Sheila was looking in, looking at the wall. Fuck.

He tried to stand up, his arms attempting to give out again and his legs screaming. He leaned against the door itself and fished the lock picking kit out of his belt.

He slipped the tension wrench in, putting tension on the lock. He grabbed his hook to find the binding pin, going slower than he would’ve liked because of his shaking hands. The same ones covered in blood as they nearly slipped and let go of the tool trying to turn the lock-

“Focus, Robin,” he heard Batman’s voice in his head say. He felt the binding pin click into place on the sheer line and turned his tension wrench to set it.

He looked at his raking tool and debated the merits of using it, but he wasn’t sure if he’d be fast enough to make it work under the circumstance. He decided to stick with the hook and do it one pin at a time.

Click... ...Click... ...Click... ...Click-!

He checked the lock. He could’ve sworn he had set all the pins...

He checked them. He must’ve overshot somewhere.

He released all the tension and started over.

“Insert the small end of the tension wrench... apply some tension- there you go... insert the hook, find-”

He didn’t pay attention as Sheila did whatever the hell she was doing. He focused on finding his pins.

He swore he could still smell her cigarette. He could feel his injuries throb but he wasn’t out yet he had to do this-

He tried to focus on the little clicks that indicated another binding pin had been set into place instead of the stain on the concrete behind him. He swore he could still hear the laughter in the back of his head, mocking him. “Oh, little birdie, you didn’t think you could make it out, did you?”

He didn’t want to tell Sheila. He’d made the mistake of trusting her before, and he knew she couldn’t handle the knowledge that there was another bomb in the warehouse. He was content to let her think she was the hero and was waiting for rescue. She hadn’t acknowledged him since they got the bomb diffused, and he hoped she wouldn’t look over and see him picking the lock. Maybe it was selfish, or maybe it was his survival instincts kicking in. Maybe he just wanted one of them to die ignorant of the danger they were in.

Somewhere in him, he knew Batman was coming. Somewhere in him, he knew the facts. Batman was always doomed to be late. As soon as he made the choice to meet Sheila and not tell anyone where he was, he knew.

He knew he hadn’t been abandoned to die here. So why did it feel like he had?

He dropped the pins.

Tension wrench, hook, binding pin...

Two minutes, thirty-one seconds. He wondered if the other bomb was set to go off at the same time. He wondered if he was as slow as he thought he was being, or if time itself had slowed down. He tried not to cry.

He’d always thought he understood the risks of being the hero. He thought he understood what it meant to die for the cause, having seen Bruce and Dick lose their friends, people he’d met, along the way. He thought he was ready to die for the cause, just like they had. He’d had enough time.

He wasn’t ready. He hadn’t understood. He wanted his papa. He wanted his older brother. He wanted Alfred. He wanted to name that zebra plush and love it like Dick had loved Zitka, he wanted to be in bed pretending he wasn’t cuddling it as he slept-

He focused on the pins. He’d been picking locks with questionable tools his entire life. These were professional grade, not even the old bobby pins he used to find after the working girls finished their rounds. He’d made those work before. Somewhere in the back of his head his own death counted down. He had no idea how much time he had left.

It was like time had slowed down. First, he heard the last click of the pin. Next, he felt the cylinder of the lock twist. Then, he fumbled for the doorknob as he heard a loud ‘TIK, TIK,TIK,’ behind him. He heard Sheila yell out “What was that?!” as the door fell open, him with it.

He thought he saw Batman for a split second before a big boom shook his world. His ears popped and ringing overtook his hearing. He felt his body burn, he could smell burnt flesh. His lungs burned as he tried to breathe. His mouth tasted like ash.

He could feel himself slipping in and out of consciousness. He relaxed, exhausted. He could feel himself going under.

He thought he felt a familiar hand in his hair, dainty fingers massaging his scalp. “Go, Jay.” her voice whispered. “It’s not your time.”

He would’ve followed her voice anywhere she wanted him to go. Going away from it felt like hell, but he listened to her. He could never deny his mom anything. Never had when she was alive, wasn’t going to start now.

He clung to the last shreds of his consciousness. He couldn’t follow anything that was going on. It felt like he was being carried in strong arms.

He could feel himself being laid down. He knew he was safe now. They wouldn’t give up until he did.

He finally slipped under, determined that this would not be his last chance to see his papa.

He still had fight left.

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

He settled back into the soft pillows on his bed, placing his drink in the folds of the blankets.

He wasn’t sure if he was always like this or if it was a ghost thing, but these days, he liked piling all of his softest pillows and blankets into a corner of his bed and making a nest. He had his softest hoodie on with a light pair of pants. He sat with his legs propped up on the edges of his nest, a light on behind him, shining onto his book. He continued reading Emma , audibly gasping at the audacity.

Jazz had found an extra audio jack thing in her room after they got home and had given it to him. He had earbuds in, playing music. He had decided to keep this one connected to his headphones, and those connected to his phone. He wondered if he’d actually keep himself to that as he read on.

He had just been about to finish this chapter and go to bed when he felt something cold bubble in his chest. This time, though, he was quick enough to pull the book down and aim his mouth at the floor. He fought to stay in his makeshift nest and not get up to go check it out.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he could feel that whatever ghost had popped up this time was in a thermos. Sam and Tucker had done a decent job of texting him whenever they caught whatever rogue had reared their ugly head.

He kept reading, forcing himself to pay attention to the words. He has no idea how Harriet deals with her; that woman’s a saint for not hurting Emma, badly. If Sam or Tucker ever tried to do this shit to him...

Knightley was in a similar boat, but he thought the man was a bit off. Why wouldn’t he at least attempt to warn Harriet, or Emma’s father that she was stirring the pot?

As he was watching everything blow up in Emma’s face, he heard his phone ring in his headphones. He reached over, grabbing it. He read the name on the caller id and answered. “The number you are trying to reach has been disconnected.”

“Haha, very funny,” Sam’s dry voice said. “Look, Tucker’s going to send a location, can you come quick? Red’s been compromised.”

Danny cursed and got up, looking for his bookmark. “What do you mean Red’s been compromised?”

Sam sighed, “It’s Freakshow.”

“Fuck!” he swore loudly. He spotted some paper and shoved a piece in between his book pages. “Lead with that next time!”

“Okay, okay, just hurry!” Sam hissed before hanging up.

He grabbed his cup to move it to his desk as his music started up again. He set the drink down before pausing his music, taking his headphones out and checking the streets Tucker had sent.

The Pharaoh

Between Maple and Main

He tossed his phone on his bed before going ghost. So much for his day off.

He took off towards where he should see Red Huntress. He wished he couldn’t believe this happened on his one day off of hero work, but that was pretty much his luck. Stupid fucking Fenton luck, always ruining everything for him.

He finally spotted her as she was blasting store fronts to allow Freakshow’s other brainwashed subjects to go in and rob the place blind. “Hey!” he yelled. “If you were strapped for cash, Red, I’m sure we- whoa!”

He dodged her blaster. She robotically attacked, not making one attempt at saying a thing as she did so. He didn’t even know Freak show could control humans with his staff; just what had Vlad used to make Huntress’s suit, anyways?

Wait a damn minute... Freakshow’s staff was destroyed. That’s how they broke through the first time and freed all the ghosts under his power. So how in the name of the ancients-

He ran out of time to contemplate it as Red attempted to blast him once more. He dodged, successfully avoiding her red wrath. He hated getting hit by Red; not only was it slightly humiliating, but her blasts hurt more, even though nothing could ever compare to his parent’s ecto weapons.

“Shit- Red!” he called out, dodging more blasts as he went. He could tell this wasn’t Val- her aim was 10x better, even when she first started out as Red Huntress. The sluggish movements were easy to avoid.

He needed a way to pacify her, fast, though. The damage to the street was immeasurable, and he had a feeling Vlad (even though that bastard was mayor) wouldn’t be paying for it. He’d also somehow manipulate the media into thinking it was his fault the fight caused so much damage... again.

He assessed the situation. He decided to try and blast her gun out of her hand, first, then deal with it from there. He took aim, only for her to move at the last second. The blast hit her dead on in her stomach, knocking her from her board.

Danny cursed and went after her. He didn’t quite reach her in time as Red fell into a tree, getting caught in the branches. The gun and the board clattered onto the street below; Danny hoped those were sturdy.

“Red!” he called.

She groaned. “What in the hell,” she muttered, holding her head. Despite it all, Danny grinned.

“Hey, Red,” he greeted. She growled.

“Phantom. Just what the hell happened? What am I doing here... am I in a tree?!” she grabbed the front of his costume roughly, “Why in the hell am I in a tree?!”

Danny put his hands up in the universal ‘please don’t kill me I’m harmless’ gesture. “Remember ‘bout, oh, 10 months ago when that guy started mind controlling every ghost in town to steal for him?”

He could almost hear her roll her eyes. “What ‘bout him?”

“He’s back,” he said. “Did you know humans can be mind controlled too? Because apparently they can!” he did jazz hands after his sentence, as if he was stating a cool animal fact instead of letting a deadly vigilante that happened to share some classes with him that she’d just been implicit in a robbery.

“What?!” she exclaimed. She tried to peer around him to look when- “Ow!” she yelped, clutching her stomach.

“Oh, right,” he muttered. “You were blasting at me. It felt like a blast from the past! Ha, get it?” she glared at him. He continued awkwardly, “I tried to blast your gun out of your hand to disarm you and then figure out how to snap you out of it. It... kind of worked?”

“Get me my gun and my board,” she gritted out. “Ain’t nobody gonna fucking control me and get away with it.”

Danny hesitated. “Can you still fight-”

“Of course I can fucking fight. I’m a Gre- I'm Red Huntress,” she corrected herself. “I can handle anything.”

Danny wasn’t going to fight her on that. He flew down and grabbed her board and her gun, bringing them back up to her. He, personally, thought it’d be easier to bring her to them, but he wasn’t about to say that to a pissed off Valerie Gray, allies or not.

He helped her onto her board from the tree. She immediately took off, following the ghosts that had stolen goods. Danny followed her, not one to question her judgement. She hadn’t known about Vlad, at first, after all, and had formed a… fragile alliance with Danny afterwards. Overall, her instincts were deadly accurate, and he trusted her with his half-life… most of the time.

They made it to the train station where the freak had set up last time. He had changed his uniform and the staff looked slightly different, but they both could tell he was their guy. He had no idea if the circus had opened up yet or not, but it was about to close.

He looked at all of the performers. This time, he could spot some humans in the mix, as well as a selection of real animals in cages. Sam would have a fit if he didn’t do something about this, and Sam having a fit was the last thing they needed right now. He held his hand up to Red.

“Hang on. If we charge in, we’ll get controlled again,” he whispered.

“So what do we do? How’d you defeat the guy last time?” she asked, getting the “we have to be quiet” memo.

“A couple of fellow heroes helped out,” he whispered back. “The staff didn’t work on humans last time, I think, but it does now. The others destroyed his staff though, and that’s back, too,” he frowned.

“Have you ever encountered him besides last year?” she tried.

“Once,” he said, frowning. “He... he had a reality warper. Caused some real bad damage with it. I bet you he fixed his staff with it and upgraded it while he was at it, fuck!”

“’Fuck’?” she echoed. “What do you mean, ‘fuck’? Couldn’t we just destroy the staff again?”

He took a deep breath. “We’ll have to see. But he’s not like our regular rogues. He got into this game because he was wicked smart, meaning because it worked last time...”

“He’s probably learned some new tricks and upgraded the staff to be indestructible.”

“Yup.”

“Fuck!” she whisper-yelled.

“Okay,” he said under his breath. “Okay, I think I have a plan,” he said. “So this is what we’re gonna do...”

A while later, Danny was hiding behind one of the train cars as Red went up front in their line of sight.

“Hey, freaks!” she yelled. That was his cue. He turned invisible.

“You again! How’d you escape containment?!” he heard Freakshow yell.

He crept quietly, hovering along as he went to make certain he wasn’t about to give himself away. He saw the staff shoot out blasts of red light as Red dodged them skillfully on her board.

She really could be amazing when she wanted to be.

Danny looked for his opening. He only had one shot. If he screwed this up, Freakshow would have the other ghosts seize him and then he’d be mind controlled. The first time hadn’t been catastrophic because his power set was smaller, more average than it is now. If Freakshow figured out he could make ice, or wail, or...

Yeah. It’d be bad.

Wait for it... wait for it...

There.  

He started monologuing. He briefly debated turning visible to mock him behind his back to Red, but decided against it. Something told him that’d be a bad idea.

He double-checked that he wasn’t intangible and... NOW!

He grabbed the staff firmly and yanked. He turned intangible with it as Freakshow whipped around. “Who dares-!”

Danny flew to the top of the train car, still holding the staff and went back into the realm of visibility. “Your days of showboating are over, Freakshow!” he called out. “I, Phantom, who wield the staff, hereby release those who have been affected by its power!”

One by one, those who had been affected lost the red glow to their eyes. The ghosts recovered first, quickly scramming.

These days, ghosts that weren’t here to fight him didn’t stick around long. He didn’t really blame them.

The GIW kept everyone on their toes. Danny barely wanted to stick around; he still didn’t understand why his rogues kept coming just to fight him. He was in the zone enough for them to get their fill, wasn’t he?

He was just glad Red was... sort of on his side now.

The humans fell to the ground, dazed. The animals that had been controlled paced in their tiny cages, distressed and confused. He felt bad for them.

“No!” Freakshow yelled. “This isn’t how they said it would be! They promised it’d be different this time!” he screamed.

“Who did?” Red demanded. Her voice commanded respect and her posture was every bit the hero Danny wanted to be.

“I, uh... Bye!” the man said, starting to run.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Red called out, pulling out a red whip. Danny did a double take- no, that was a lasso!

Where in the hell did Red get a lasso?!

She wrapped it around Freakshow with practiced ease, stopping him in his tracks. They could hear him curse from here.

“Who,” she grit out.

Freakshow audibly gulped. “I haven’t the faintest-”

“Don’t!” she looked terrifying, gripping the grown man by the collar. A wet spot formed on the man’s pants as she kept talking, “I want to know who fucking sent you. Remember, Phantom’s the nice one,” she stated, getting closer to his face than Danny thought possible, “You don’t want to make me angry.”

She finished in a whisper that was louder than any shout she could’ve procured.

Freakshow started crying. “I’m going to have to get lessons from her,” he thought to himself.

“The guys in white!” he yelled. “Please, please just send me back to jail, I’ll be a good boy-”

Red dropped him like he’d burned her. “EW!” she yelled out. “NEVER say that to me again-”

“Yeah, too much, dude,” Danny said from behind him, wrinkling his nose. “Red, are the police on their way? Or do you think I should take him to Walker?”

“Who’s Walker?” Freakshow sobbed out from where he lay on the ground.

“I don’t know, Phantom,” Red replied, all faux nonchalance. “Walker’d be a little easy on him, don’t you think?”

“Why, Red, didn’t you hear?” Danny asked with fake shock, “Walker got a revamp!”

“Oh, did he, now?” she asked.

“Yeah! No more cushy little ghost prison,” he grinned. “I heard the last ghost to go there got an eternity in the screaming maze!”

“What’s the screaming maze?!” Freakshow asked, horrified.

“Really? Didn’t the last ghost that got sent there only get a week because it was ‘too traumatizing’?” Red continued to ignore their ‘friend’.

“Yeah!” he really was having too much fun with it now, “And I heard that it’s even more traumatizing now!”

“Really? Do tell!”

“Apparently, they cater it to the worst thing you’ve ever done in either realm,” Danny started out conspiratorially. “If you stole something? You’re haunted by the people you stole from. If you murdered someone, you get murdered, over and over again the exact same way. Sometimes,” he lowered his voice, “They decide it’s not enough, and you relive your death- ”

“Please! No more!”

“What’d the last guy do to get that?” Red whistled.

Danny fought not to laugh. “He kidnapped a bunch of humans and overshadowed them,” he said plainly. “Made them commit crimes for him. Hey,” he said, turning to Freakshow as if he’d just remembered the man was there, “Isn’t that kind of like what you did?”

They might’ve gone too far. A rancid smell filled the air. His already soiled pants looked even more uncomfortable now as he uncontrollably wept.

In his defense, this was hilarious, and he was fairly certain Tucker would agree. Ancients, he hoped Tucker was recording this.

In the end, all they did to the man was turn him over to the police, Danny watching from afar to act as back up in case something happened while Red handled the pigs upstanding policemen.

Once they left and animal control was handling the poor babies that had been affected by the maniac, Danny went back down to chat with Red.

“Hey!” he greeted.

“Oh!” she said, turning to face him, “I thought you went home already. Well, wherever home is for you, anyways.”

“I wanted to apologize for hitting you,” he said, guilty. “I really wasn’t trying-”

“I know,” she said, not unkindly. “I know you only wanted to protect yourself, and I’m sorry I put you in... that, uh,” she trailed off.

“Red? You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m-” she nearly passed out, losing her balance. Danny grabbed her by the shoulders, easing her to the ground.

“Red?! What’s going on-” he cut himself off as he spotted a dark spot on her suit.

Shit. Shit shit shit-

“Oh fuck. Okay, do you have a first aid kit at your place?”

Red looked at him and shook her head.

“Okay, we’re going-”

“Not... goin’ anywhere...” she said, gritting her teeth against the pain.

“Red-”

“No.”

“Red-”

“No!”

“Val!” Danny yelled. “You’re human, and you’re hurt! I’m taking you for medical attention!”

She slowly looked up at Danny. “ How do you know my civilian name?!” she asked forcefully.

Danny flushed. “Just... Fuck!” he started pacing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Phantom-”

“Okay. Okay, I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to freak out.”

She looked at him weirdly. “Okay?”

“No, like, actually promise,” he insisted.

“Are you serious-”

“Yes!”

“Okay, fuck! I promise!” she all but growled out.

He took a deep breath. White rings of light washed over him, leaving him plain old-

“Danny?!” she yelled.

“Shut the fuck up!” he hissed. “Yes, it’s me, I’m half ghost, now can I please take you to Sam’s place so we can get you patched up? I know I feel like shit when I bleed that much and you’re fully human!”

She nodded.

The rest of the night passed in a blur. Patching up Valerie was a cinch when you had the best supplies, and Sam had been taking lessons on how to give stitches. It wasn’t ideal, but it was their best bet without going to the hospital or something.

Valerie decided she didn’t want to talk about it tonight. They made a group chat with Jazz so they could talk it out at their own paces and called it a night.

Danny dropped her back off at home. She wished him a good night, and that was that.

He was certain this was supposed to be a victory, but instead this felt like a huge loss.

He went home. His light was still on, but Jazz had definitely come into his room while he was gone. Instead of a random piece of paper shoved into his book, his bookmark was in its place, along with a sticky note; “Love you, little brother <3”

He broke.

He transformed and flopped down in his bed, grabbing his favorite pillow and sobbing. This is what happens when he takes breaks. This is what happens when he skips patrol. He told them that this was a bad idea, and now Val was hurt, seriously hurt, and she knew he was Phantom!

He hiccupped as quietly as he could, trying not to wake up Jazz. This was all his fault. He should’ve been more careful. He should’ve checked it out, regardless of what Tucker and Sam threatened him with.

Today had been great. He had a fun time with Star, had gotten her number even! She said she would think about meeting him at the library more often! They’d already texted to gush about their respective books! This sucked.

He had thought he’d run out of tears this week, but it looks like he hadn’t. He felt like a toddler again, crying because mom said he couldn’t have any fudge before he ate his veggies.

That was his last thought before he fell unconscious, tears still falling from his too-blue eyes.

Maybe tomorrow will be better. He seriously doubted it would.

[analviel]

Idea: ReverseRobins!Damian wakes up in the body of canon!Damian.

Details:

>In both worlds, Tim is Red Robin and Jason is Red Hood.

>Tim in Reverse Robins don't kill people, he maims them, with the belief that without limbs, they're unable to hurt people and can focus on regaining their sanity that way (he died by killing himself after being turned into Joker Jr). "They can regain their minds without their limbs. Especially without their limbs."

>And unlike Lazarus!Jason, his main emotions isn't anger, but apathy. Doesn't care for anything that isn't his Mission. If you get in his way is the only time he'd give you attention.

>Rr Jason took on the name of the Red Hood because it won't be traced back to the Bats (same reason canon!Tim wore Red Robin).

>Damian's reaction to Tim's death hadn't been to retreat, but to lash out. It was a... very bloody few months for Gotham and Bludhaven.

>Rr Tim never went out of his way to try to kill Rr Jason because he, just, doesn't care. But Jason tried to stop him once from brutally maiming someone and the consequences was... bloody, to say the least.

>Rr Tim kind of totally blackmailed Bruce into being his official guardian after both his parents died in Haiti (because Bruce wasn't there to slap the poison from Jack).

>Rr Damian finds it very weird that Jon is younger than him here.

>Because there were already other kid fighters before Rr Tim entered the picture, and he never expressed interest in specializing in combat, Rr Tim had been the sort of Oracle of the Rr Bats, doing most of what Alfred does in the cave so the old butler can focus more on maintaining the manor and also just lightening his burden. He only has Robin sometimes and is mostly trained for mid to long range (because unlike Damian, Steph, and Duke, he didn't come with street fighting experience and since he never pushed, Bruce was fine letting his sort of son do his thing in the background, primarily trained in dodging -Not that it helped him with Harley's mallet, Damian bitterly thinks).

>When ReverseR Tim came back from the League though, he knew how to fight close combat (a Chinese war sword I think is the name of the weapon I'm thinking) which is the main reason the Bats didn't recognize him immediately.

>ReverseR Stephanie was paralyzed and started handling the comms and the medical stuff. She's a med-student but probably has more know how than doctors twice her age. She was Batgirl first then became Spoiler when she pass it on to Cass. Because "Spoiler alert, there's a guy coming up to your ten and Penguin is having his unboxing of some sick weapons".

>Jealousy did get in the way of Rr Damian and Tim's relationship but it had gotten better. The last time they saw each other before Tim was ambushed by the New villain Harley Quinn on the way back home, Damian had thrown him out, tired of people trying to make him feel better after something happened to Jon. (I'm tempted to deage Jon as his canon was aged up.....).

>Rr Jason uses guns and it's allowed because his big brother is Damian.

>Just as Dick set the tone for the following Robins, Damian did the same for his Robin (Hoods). Just as Thirteen Jason had been a much happy and peppy kid than Nineteen year old Dick Grayson, Thirteen Tim is much more like Bruce than Nineteen Damian, so the friction mostly came from there. Also Ra's liked Tim a bit too much so there's also that....

>Rr Damian is absolutely the aloof helicopter parent. Which does sound contradictory, but he makes it work. Rr Damian and Rr Jason have their own version of Dick and Tim's relationship closeness. (The flaw in this is that he's like Bruce in that... if he believes its good for you, he can convince himself he doesn't need to get your consent. He knows better.)

>Rr Jason and Cass are very close but disagree quite a lot. You can always find them bickering. From who's the older one to who gets shotgun in the Batmobile, to things like morals and which classics actually deserve to be burned.

>Talia tossed Jason in the Lazarus but Rr Tim had been healed by Ra's.

>Rr Tim had been tortured same amount of time as Tim Todd, and he also had that chip. Only difference, he'd also been programmed into following Joker's orders to the letter. "Kill him JJ!!" "No! Tim, don't be a killer."

Tim can't kill Bruce. He also can't kill Joker.

There were only three 'hims' in that room.

"Kill him JJ!"

The only reason I want Damian to be there at the scene, like, just a few seconds late, is because I want flashbacks. Then again, he can also just watch the same recording Bruce probably tortures himself by watching too.

>Pre-Jason death was Bruce, Alfred, Dick, and Barbie. Pre-RrTim death was Bruce, Alfred, Damian, Duke, Cass, Steph.

>Young Justice happened too but Tim just had Superboy and Impulse wear cameras and comms. Tho Tim still met Bart personally in civilian. And steadily drawn out eventually for him to appear in person more.

>Not really Bat related, but Kon has a much better reception with Jon excited for a baby brother.

>Rr Dick is A.DO.RA.BLE. And kept far, far away from Rr Tim.

>Rr Barbara is the third Batgirl after Cass becomes Black Bat and Jason is Red Hood.

>During the Bruce is dead (in the Reverse Robins-verse), there is no Battle of the Cowl (duh, no matter what world Tim still wouldn't seek it out without sound and desperate reasons and Damian had literally spent his whole life assurinb his stake on it)(it still happened in canon-verse tho), but I don't know if I want RR!Damian to Possess canon!Damian before, after, or during it. They fully believe that Rr Bruce is dead until Rr Jason's path cross with Rr Tim and Tim.... hmmm, he genuinely doesn't care, so I wonder how and why he's going to drop a hint. This time, Tim knows because he'd seen some ancient records in the League but Tim didn't really pursue that. He wants something from Jason in exchange, and after that hint, Jason then goes on his trip around the world for proof he barely believes is there but can't help but hope. He does not tell Damian because he's not going to give the blood son possible false hope. And also I'm not sure the difference in how Damian would've handled the Robin debacle since Dick wouldn't take it from his big brother, but Kid Dick is a very angry vengeful little shit that really wants to go kill Tony Zucco so.... Jason was probably guilted/forced into passing it on for the kid's sake and there's just a tiny, tiny bit of bitterness.

>And i also want a scene where canon!Tim and Rr!Jason share a commiserating look after having to deal with this shitshow of a family and their respective predecessors' shit.

To elaborate: Timeline is further along in canon. So Reverse Robins are still around dead/lost!Bruce while canon!verse is sometime after they've retrieved Bruce and Dick is out of the Cowl.

[stxleslyds]

I saw your rant about the Red Hood Movie lol (I agree DC keeps hurting my boy Jason) and you said something that interested me, you mentioned that you don’t like it when Jason is drawn with a bat symbol on him but why? Personally I feel that him wearing the bat symbol makes sense because he’s always tried to fit in with the family and it’s his way of connecting with them because he’s never had a family before. He gets along with his other siblings sometimes so I don’t think it’s ooc. I consider ‘bat symbol’ Jason an era of the past and am perfectly fine with his new Red Hood logo it looks sweet (but I wouldn’t be angry if he had the bat symbol on or not in the future). I’m curious what you’re thoughts are!

Hey there Anon, I have to be honest with you, your ask has been proven very difficult to answer, this here is my third draft. I have decided that instead of explaining my thoughts as I was trying to do in my previous drafts, I will now just link you to some of my past posts when I bring up certain points that make me think Jason should have never worn the bat-symbol on his chest.

Just a heads up, I am not a fan of Batman, the “Batfamily”, or Jason being dragged to any Bat-related content, I think it makes his character bland.

In order to make the answer clear to me as well as to anyone who reads this post, I will be separating my thoughts on how I think Jason’s relationship with Bruce has led me to think that he shouldn’t wear a bat-symbol or be involved with any Batman related content, and how Jason’s relationship with his brothers has led me to think that he isn’t part of any Batfamily or has ever been written as someone with true reasons to consider the others his brothers/allies/friends. I will separate each of those two groups in four different sections: pre-New 52, New 52, Rebirth and Infinite Frontier.

First though I would like to say that Jason as the Red Hood wearing a bat-symbol doesn’t make sense to me from the most basic of things, Jason’s vigilante name has nothing to do with Bats. Who wears bat-symbols? Batman, Batwoman, Batgirl, Batwing… All people that who have the “Bat” prefix on their names, nobody else wears a bat-symbol, Nightwing, Robin, Red Robin (Robin), none of them wear it, so why would Red Hood do it? It just makes zero sense. But anyway, that’s just me being annoying, I guess.

Jason and Bruce’s relationship.

First let’s go back in time to when Jason hadn’t died yet. You said that Jason wore the bat-symbol so he could connect with his family because Jason had never had that before, well, I see things differently, Jason had a family and that was his mother, the mother that he cared for when she was sick and the mother that he saw die to drugs after his father was put in jail. He had a family with her. And then he had a family with Bruce when he was Robin, but because Bruce started to neglect and not pay enough attention to him after he realized they weren’t seeing eye to eye in various things, Jason was pushed to act the way he did when he found that his birth mother was alive and “being manipulated by Joker”.

Jason’s father was abusive with his mother and didn’t care for Jason, Bruce wasn’t ready to be a father (even after Dick) and when Jason started to not want to follow his every rule Bruce neglected him, later his birth mother betrayed him and was one of the people involved in Jason’s death.

My point here is that Jason had a family with one person who died to drugs and then every other “family” that he found ended up betraying him or neglecting him. So, I don’t really think that Jason has much trust in the whole concept of “family” at least not when it comes to any of his experiences outside of Catherine Todd.

Now let’s move to the events of Under the Red Hood where Jason comes back to comics. Jason doesn’t hate Bruce then but he felt betrayed by him and felt like Batman’s whole crusade was not good anymore. Jason expressed several times in that book the fact that he didn’t believe Batman was good for Gotham and that he became a better version of Batman, the Red Hood.

Red Hood could do things that Batman didn’t dare do, he was better. So, why on earth would Jason wear a bat-symbol then? Well, Jason never wore a bat-symbol pre-New 52 when he was wearing his Red Hood suit. NEVER.

Jason didn’t care for Dick or Tim, he saw Dick as inferior to him because of Nightwing’s no killing ways and he was completely indifferent to Tim, his only interactions with him were when he cut his throat a little bit in Batman: Hush and when he called him “the pretender”.

So, Jason wasn’t looking for family he just wanted Bruce to kill Joker for him, and Bruce didn’t. When things got complicated and Jason realized that Bruce was too much of a coward he improvised, he told Batman that in order to stop him from killing the Joker Batman would have to shoot him (Jason). Batman didn’t use the gun, but he did save the Joker by throwing a batarang at Jason’s throat. When Joker detonated the explosives in the building they were in Bruce once again saved Joker from the rubble and didn’t look much for Jason.

That my dead Anon is the first time Bruce betrays Jason in such a big way that made me think that Jason would have never wanted to interact with Bruce in a good way. I will repeat it now, Bruce SAVED the Joker instead of letting Jason KILL the Joker.

After Under the Red Hood we got to see that Jason was alive and well in Green Arrow #69-72, where he made an appearance, there I can say with a 100% certainty that Jason hated both Batman and Bruce. He actively did things that pissed Bruce off and was searching for conflict with the man.

Jason and Bruce don’t interact much after all that because at some point Bruce “died” and that’s where Battle for the Cowl comes in. There is where we see one of the craziest Jason characterizations, there Jason took on the mantle of Batman because Gotham needed Batman (what? Red Hood was created to replace Batman!). But in that book Jason actually harmed both his brothers and left them for dead. In that book we also see a horrible message that Bruce left for Jason where Bruce told him that “Jason was broken and he tried to fix him” and that “Jason was my (Bruce’s) biggest failure”. I don’t know about you Anon, but if my father saw me that way, I would be packing my bags. And Jason didn’t look like he was looking to connect with his “family”.

After all that we don’t see Jason until Batman and Robin vol.1, where we see the weirdest characterization of Red Hood, this Red Hood hates Batman and would kill anyone just because. Jason had zero need to connect with his family there.

I just want to remind you here that Jason never wore a Batman symbol until here in his Red Hood suits, he only wore the symbol when he “was” Batman and that was OOC.

So now I welcome you to the New 52, where Jason wears a bat-symbol on his Red Hood suit for the first time. I HATE New 52 Jason Anon; you will find zero love for him here. That man wore a bat-symbol on his chest even though he didn’t believe in Batman’s ways and while he had this internal conflict about whether he hated or not Bruce. This Jason gave up a memory from his Robin years with Batman because he didn’t care enough to keep it, then he was seen acting like an ass towards Bruce and Barbara in the “Court of Owls” event.

But this whole shit show was written by Lobdell and one day he decided that Jason cared about what Bruce thought and let us know that maybe Jason secretly admired Bruce (in the post I will link here! I talk about what happened in those issues among other things). That story would be followed by Batman and Robin vol.2 #20, or what I like to call “the second time Bruce betrayed Jason in an even more painful way”. I am not going to explain what happened there, but I will like here! the post where I talked about what happened there and why I think that Jason should have never been on good terms with Bruce again from that moment on.

In that post I also discuss how much of an abusive and manipulative person and father, Bruce has and can be. He is a disgusting human being and Jason called him out about it but DC loves to write Bruce being abusive and then swiping it under the rug, Jason being on good terms with Bruce or wearing a bat-symbol on his chest is just horrifying after witnessing that issue, and it normalized Bruce’s abusive behaviour when issues later the same writer (Tomasi) had Jason interact with Bruce as if nothing had happened.

After that Jason was seen interacting with Bruce when the latter lost his memory, Jason even hugged Bruce there, it was OOC, and like I said it normalized Bruce’s abusive behaviour or at the very least made it look as something of no real importance.

Now, we are entering the Rebirth era of Bruce and Jason’s relationship, Jason was still wearing that fucking bat-symbol on his chest and this time around Jason even made a deal where he wouldn’t kill anyone while in Gotham (RHatO vol.1 #6), Lobdell even wrote them as being all buddy-buddy after the mess that was the New 52, absolutely disgusting.

Jason didn’t interact with Bruce in Rebirth that much, in fact the next time that Batman made a big appearance in the Red Hood book was in Red Hood and the Outlaws vol.2 #25, yeah, the issue where Batman beats the living shit out of Jason twice because he thought that Jason had killed Penguin. Father of the year, Jason wasn’t dying to be part of Bruce’s family, he was just brutally beat to be part of it. Bruce also ripped the vat-symbol off of Jason’s chest and told him that he didn’t “belong” with him or in Gotham any more. The AUDACITY of that bitch, can you believe? Jason belongs in Gotham as much if not more than Bruce.

Later when Red Hood and the Outlaws became Red Hood Outlaw, we saw Bruce and Jason interact again when Bruce informed Jason of Roy’s death, hugged him and also told him that he was still not allowed in Gotham, what a swell guy that Batman lad!

After that Batman went after Jason Todd when Jason came back to Gotham (without King Batman’s permission) and told the world that Jason Todd was alive and well and taking over Penguin’s Casino. Jason actually threatened Batman with revealing too much information about himself to the world (meaning, Jason threatened Bruce with revealing his secret identity) and that was that. Jason and Bruce only saw each other a few times when DC needed to make money with one of their boring ass events like Joker War and Bruce was shown “welcoming” Jason to Gotham in Red Hood Outlaw #51 or #52, I don’t remember but either way, it was absolutely hilarious and made zero sense. I am sorry, but after Bruce being a manipulative, abusive and all around a horrible person, I don’t feel anything except rage when they make them interact as if they cared for one another.

Shit hits the fan in Infinite Frontier with Urban Legends: Cheer, once again instead of explaining what happens there, I will just link you to the six posts I made about that mini. Part one, Part two, Part three, Part four, Part five and Part six.

Here I will only talk about the comeback of the bat-symbol in Jason’s life. Like you said Jason used (still has in some books) his own logo on his chest after Bruce ripped off the bat-symbol and told him to fuck off. That Red Hood logo was still done with the bat-symbol in mind and I just thought that it was ugly, like, there is no need for a logo if you are going to give him an ugly one along an even uglier suit. But that’s not what matter here, what matters is that the bat-symbol IS making a comeback because at the end of UL: Cheer, Bruce gives Jason a brand new (ugly) suit that has the bat-symbol again. That gift comes as a slap to the face after the disaster that was that book, from every point of view that mini should have not come out to the public. But it did because it forced the “Batfamily” down our throats through Bruce deciding to welcome Jason back to the “family” by giving him a suit with HIS logo on the Red Hood suit that kinda looks to me like Bruce saying “glad that I own you too as well”. The whole bat-symbol thing doesn’t sit right with him and sadly I don’t see it like a “Jason era of the past”, I see it like a metaphorical jail for Jason’s character, he is not free to be the character that he is supposed to be (a perfect opposite to Batman that shows that duality MUST exist in Gotham), and instead all we get is another Batman wannabe that is just as boring as the Batman himself.

Jason and his brother’s relationship.

The funny ha-ha thing with this is that we are not supposed to see Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian as four brothers (and to be honest I have never seen them four as brothers, as far as I see it, Jason hasn’t had a brother since before died). DC always makes it clear that Damian is Bruce’s only son so yeah, there is a big misunderstanding there within DC themselves, they have no problem with trying to sell us their absolutely nasty version of a family but at the same time they refuse to acknowledge any one except for Damian as Bruce’s son.

Even though I don’t necessarily believe that Jason sees his brothers as such I still call them that way because they were/are all Bruce’s children.

But this is not about Bruce so let me talk about Jason’s interactions with his brothers in the pre-New 52 era. So, as I said earlier in this post Jason didn’t think Dick was a big deal in UtRH because *just* like Batman Dick never killed and his way didn’t work or whatever (if only Jason knew what Dick did), and with Tim, Jason was mostly indifferent, he only hurt him a little bit in Batman: Hush (for the little bit that he took Clayface’s place) and then he referred to him as “the pretender”. Then we jump to the events of Teen Titans for Tim and Nightwing for Dick. In Teen Titans #29 Jason went to Titans Tower and beat the living hell out of Tim just because, now that thing was OOC and written by Geoff Johns but it existed and it further proves that DC writes this “family” through violence every time they can and then they just hope we forget it happened. With Dick, well, there was the Brothers in Blood arc where Jason dressed up as Nightwing and killed people in his name, he did it because he wanted to “bond” with Dick because he thought that Dick had killed Blockbuster, the whole arc was a mess and I can tell you this about it, Jason wanted to bond for all the wrong reasons and Dick was written as actually preferring Jason to be dead.

Then we jump right into Battle for the Cowl and even though (once again) this Jason was extremely OOC he did try to kill both Damian and Tim and fought Dick too, so, so far, I am not seeing Jason wanting to connect with his brothers, it was more like him going “be robin to my weird ass version of Batman or suffer!”. It was just weird.

Then there was Batman and Robin vol.1, where Jason’s Red Hood was just a blood thirsty and crazy and he didn’t want to be part of any family. I might not like Jason being written as part of the family but what this book had going on was not it.

Now, get ready because it is New 52 time again and this is messier than his relationship with Bruce in this timeline. The most recognizable relationship (or lack of thereof) was Jason and Dick. Lobdell just let us know one thing about what Jason thought of Dick and that was HATE. Jason HATED Dick, why, you ask? Oh, um, no one really knows, the only panel we were shown as “proof” of why Jason hated Dick was when Jason was acting like a little bitch when Dick was teaching him stuff during patrol (RHatO vol.1 #6). But, yes, Jason “had” (apparently) a good relationship with Tim. Yeah, no gracias, listen, Jason and Tim having brunch for two pages (RHatO vol.1 #8) isn’t making me believe that Jason cares or sees Tim in a good light, just throwing a brunch between them isn’t proof of them being the best of brothers but then again Lobdell loved giving Jason every character trait and relationship that Dick once had (examples: Tim, Roy and Kory). That brunch didn’t mean much because later on during the Death of the Family event Jason almost killed Tim (Teen Titans #16) to “save” his father from Joker (talk about bad writing). Jason and Damian had a very weird and forced “bonding” moment in that same event (you can include Damian to the relationships that Lobdell borrowed from Dick), all of the sudden Jason cared for Damian and he was acting all brotherly, because “they worked together” as different people in Batman Incorporated #4, this weird interaction between Jason and Damian (it can only be called weird because it looked out of place and you cannot change my mind, even Jason thinks it is weird in those panels) happened in RHatO vol.1 #17. In that same issue is where Jason tells Dick that he was trash because he didn’t want to say hi to Kory and kinda tells him that Dick “underestimates” Kory, listen, New Teen Titans isn’t a book that I enjoy reading most of the time but Lobdell needs to do some re-reading himself, Dick isn’t trash to Kory, Lobdell was trash to Kory. Anyway, at that point in time, Jason had a bad relationship with Dick, a secret admiration for Bruce, and a weird ass relationship with Tim and Damian.

Before we go on let me tell you what I think about the whole New 52 dynamic. Jason was used as a replacement of Dick Grayson. Dick was the one that had good relationships with his brothers and father, Jason up until the start of New 52 didn’t care for Tim or Damian, hated Bruce and kinda had a soft spot for Dick. In the New 52 the tables were turned. Jason’s relationship with Tim was never developed in paper, they for some reason were friends only when they stood together like they did in Robin War and Batman and Robin Eternal, there was never development or a reason as to why they “were in good terms”, they just *were*. The whole Jason and Damian thing didn’t last long because Damian died and then the whole mess of Batman and Robin #20 happened with Bruce.

Ahh, Grayson #12, the time when Jason and Tim’s last braincell died, they threw so much shit Dick’s way and for nothing. I will forever be mad at this, they really thought that Dick of all people faked his death, and because Bruce was conveniently amnesiac nobody dared say “hey, wasn’t it Bruce the one that told us that Dick was dead?”, seems to me like New 52 Jason and Tim can go be friends with that one braincell all by themselves. This is not family; this is people teaming up with whoever so DC can sell another weird comic event. Also at that time Damian was alive and Jason couldn’t have cared less about him being there (maybe it was because Jason was there when Damian was resurrected? Who knows?).

And now we jump to Rebirth because I hate the New 52. Tim was nowhere to be seen. Jason just forgot Tim existed and it wasn’t until the Red Hood Outlaw era in which we saw Jason interact with Damian again. What we did see, was a reconciliation between Jason and Dick, Jason was written as acting completely different in RHatO Annual #1, Jason respected Dick and his work and also said that Dick “had been a better brother than he had given him credit for”. Then Jason appeared once in Nightwing and they talked about Dick’s new girlfriend. And that was that for a long while.

As I said, during the RHO era Jason and Damian shared a couple of issues in the Teen Titans run, I have talked about these issues before in two posts (Post 1 and Post 2) but I will summarize what happened there here quickly.

Apparently, Jason and Damian had been working together in secret (never shown in actual comics), Jason gave Damian targets and intel of people for Damian to put in his secret prison for villains. When Damian and the Titans go after a target something goes wrong and the Titans end up hurt. Damian goes after Jason without a second thought and accuses him of betraying him, a physical and emotional fight ensues and it ends with Jason promising that if he sees Damian again, he will kill him. That’s all for Jason and Damian being on good terms in Rebirth.

But it all changes in Infinite Frontier, in August of 2021 we see the *real* comeback of the “Batfamily” in Robin #5. Dick, Damian, Jason, Tim and Stephanie appear in this issue but the only things of essence happen between Jason and Damian and Dick and Damian. Only one of them made sense, and it wasn’t Jason and Damian.

Jason was there to bring Damian back to Bruce. Listen, the last time Jason and Damian were seen together they were actively hiding their work from Batman and then they ended promising to kill each other, and now Jason came fresh out of Urban Legends: Cheer #6 wanting Damian to go back to Bruce. Damian tricks Jason into a hug, but surprise! it wasn’t a hug, Damian electrocuted Jason to get him of his back.

And that’s all.

-

I understand that there have been moments where Jason has been written as wanting to connect to one or two people from the “family” but its never developed or based on something of true essence. You might consider it actually strong family connections but I just don’t see it that way.

Jason wearing a bat-symbol after the abuse and manipulation that Bruce put him through in new 52 onwards is just dumb to me. And given Red Hood’s origin, Jason wearing a bat-symbol in the first place is absurd and goes against everything that he once was.

Jason officially started wearing the bat-symbol again in Detective Comic's back up story written by Rosenberg and will continue to use it in the ongoing book Task Force Z.

The bat-symbol is annoying but Rosenberg writes Jason beautifully so yeah, I am biased there...

We just have different opinions on the matter Anon, but don't take this post as an attack towards you and what you think, it is just that I just don't like Jason being involved with anything Batman.

I hope you have a fantastic week Anon!

[redhoodssweetheart]

Blackbird | Three

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader slowly turning into a Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2K

Requested: No

Warnings: Swearing, angst, some fluff, talk of having a dark soul and not being a good person, death mention, shot with a gun

Description: You were once a member of the BatFam known by the moniker Blackbird.   You and Dick Grayson were close, but when a tragic accident left many members of the team thinking you were dead you went into hiding and tried to build a new life for yourself. But now Dick is back and he’s about to find out your secret.

Dick was lying awake in his hotel room thinking about her when his phone buzzed.  He grabbed it off the bedside table and looked to see who had messaged him.  He was almost certain it was going to be Bruce telling him to get his ass back to Gotham, but instead he saw Kor’i’s name.

Kor’i: Damian said you were out of town on a mission.  Is everything okay?

He wasn’t sure how to tell Kor’i that he had found Y/N, his lifelong friend that had been murdered by the Joker right before his eyes.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her yet.  She was still deceased in the eyes of most of the League and he knew she still wanted to keep it that way.  He was half expecting her to up and vanish again, but before he had left her apartment the night before he had made her swear not to leave.

Dick: Something came up and I’ll be in Preston City for awhile.

Kor’i: Do you need back up?  I can be there in a few hours if you need me.

Kor’i was a good friend, Dick hated lying to her, but he didn’t need her coming here and scaring Y/N off.

Dick: I can handle things here.  Just stay with the Titans.

Kor’i: All right, just call if you need me.

He shut his phone off and went back to staring at the ceiling wondering what he should do now.  Y/N was adamant about staying in the shadows and operating as she had been since her death.  She didn’t feel like she was worthy enough to come back out into the light.  Whatever she had done after she had been reawakened from the Lazarus Pit had messed with her.

He was going to get to the bottom of this and try to help her work through whatever trauma she was still holding onto.  He got up and got ready for the day.  He wasn’t sure where she was going to be today, but he didn’t want her to be alone.

“What do you mean he just showed up out of the blue?” Jason was on the phone with Y/N as she punched away at one of the punching bags in her apartment.  “Did Bruce tell him?”

Y/N and Jason were in similar situations.  They had both been killed by the Joker and resurrected in the Lazarus Pit.  Jason, however, had returned to the fold in a sense rather than staying in the shadows as she had.  Though she had chosen to reach out to Jason after her sanity had come back because she needed someone to talk to that had been through the same thing she had.

“Bruce didn’t tell him where I was, Dick figured that out all on his own.  But once he discovered me, he managed to pry the truth out of Bruce.”  She threw another punch that managed to knock the punching bag off its hook and send it flying across the room.  “Fuck,” she cursed.

“Destroy another punching bag?”  Jason asked in a teasing tone.

“Shut up, Todd,” she hissed.  “You would think I would be better at controlling the super strength by now.”

Jason was quiet for a moment, “Maybe you should leave Preston for a while and come stay with me.  I can keep Dick off your scent for a bit and you can get used to the idea that he knows you’re still alive.”

“He said he loved me,” she whispered.

Jason sat up in his chair and nearly spit out his coffee, “He what?!”

Y/N felt like putting her fist through a wall, “He told me that he loved me and nothing could ever change his mind about that.  I told him that he was in love with a memory of me, but he doesn’t want to believe that.  He wants to think that he can love this newer, broken version of me.”

Jason knew that when Y/N had died she and Dick had grown closer and that there was more to their relationship than friendship.  Dick had never gotten the chance to tell her that he was in love with her before she died and then went into hiding.  Y/N had never really spoken of her relationship with Dick, just comments here and there.  The memories tended to be too painful for her.

“Do you still love him?”  Jason wasn’t sure if that would get a response, but he thought he should at least see what her response would be.

“You know what?  I’ll be at your place in a few hours,” she hit the end button on her phone and went to get in the shower.  

The warm spray of water against her skin helped relieve some of the tension in her muscles as she went through the habitual routine.  It was familiar and comforting when her mind was a jumbled mess of thoughts.  She needed to get away from Preston and Dick for a while and just clear her head.  Staying with Jason wasn’t the best idea, but he was all she had right now.

She would suck it up for at least a week and see if that helped.

She dressed and packed a bag with the essentials.  She jotted down a note to Dick because he would undoubtedly be by to check on her and when he discovered she wasn’t there he would break in to find clues.  Then headed to the train station downtown to catch the first train to Gotham.

When the train began to move she put her earphones in and listened to music that helped soothe her restless soul and watched as the city passed her by.  Dick was out there somewhere looking for her, hoping that he could bring her back.

But she was a lost cause and she hoped that he could see that.

Dick knocked on Y/N’s door an hour after she had gotten on the train.  He hadn’t wanted to go over to her apartment too early, but he couldn’t wait any longer.  He wanted to continue their conversation from the night before and hopefully talk about other things as well.  He didn’t want to focus on all the bad that had happened since they had last seen one another, he wanted to know about the good as well.

There was no answer the second time he knocked and dread settled in the pit of his stomach.  Why wasn’t she answering the door?

He pulled out his lock picking set and managed to get the door open.  The apartment was quiet as he pushed the door shut behind him.  “Y/N?”  There was no response as he moved deeper into the apartment.  

He noticed the punching bag laying on the floor, sand spilling out of it, and then headed for her room.  Lying on her bed as a single sheet of paper.  He picked it up with trembling fingers and read the two words that made his heartbreak.

I’m sorry.

She had left and it was his fault.  He had pushed her to leave because he had scared her by discovering where she was.  He sat down on her bed just staring at the two words written on the sheet of paper.

Y/N stepped off the train and saw Jason waving at her from down the platform.  She smiled and ran toward him, throwing her arms around him.  Sometimes Jason was the only thing that managed to make her smile. “Hey Blackbird,” he whispered against her ear.

She shoved him, “Shut up, you know I don’t go by that anymore.”

“Yeah what is that pretentious name the media gave you?  Phantom?”  He slung his arm over her shoulders and began steering her toward his motorcycle.  “I’m pretty sure you could come up with something better.”

“Having a name implies that I’m a superhero, and I’m not.  I’m just a concerned citizen,” she shot back.  

Jason smirked at her, “Concerned citizen my ass, you just like the thrill of kicking the ass of men twice your size and laughing as the cops and media sit back scratching their heads about who the hell you are and if they should consider you a hero or a menace.”

“Oh, I’m definitely a menace,” she said with a nod to her head.  “There’s no room for heroes in my life.”

“You wound me,” Jason said with mock hurt.  “Am I not a hero?”

“More like a major pain in my ass,” she poked him in the ribs.  

Jason pouted and said, “If I had known you were going to be so mean to me then I never would have agreed to let you stay with me while you get your shit together.”

“You’re a dick, you know that Todd?”  She said as she placed her bag on the back of his motorcycle and grabbed the helmet from his hands.

“You wouldn’t have me any other way,” he said as he climbed onto his bike and waited for her to join him.  When she had her arms wrapped securely around him he took off, zooming through the streets and heading to his small apartment in the east end.  They managed to make it without any accidents and Jason led her up to his apartment.  “Home sweet home,” he pushed open the door revealing his place.

It was surprisingly cleaner than she thought it would be.

“Aw Jay, did you clean for me?”  She sauntered into the home and tossed her bag on the couch.  “Because I’m pretty sure Alfred was always getting on you for having a messy room when we were teenagers.”

Y/N wasn’t an official adoptee of Bruce Wayne.  She had been friends with Barbara and then the others when she learned their secret.  She had a room at Wayne Manor for those nights when she couldn’t go home because of the night time activities.  It worked out okay, her parents were never really home to begin with and they never paid much attention to what she did as long as she wasn’t arrested.

A blessing and a curse.

“Hey, a man can change his ways,” he grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and tossed it to her.  “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat,” she shrugged.  Her phone lit up and she saw that it was Bruce calling.  She held her fingers to her lips and answered, “Hey Bruce.”

“Where are you?”  He asked.

She sighed, Dick must have called him.  “If I tell you then will you promise not to tell Dick?”

“Where are you?”  He repeated his question.

She felt a little bit of anger bubble up inside her, “You don’t get to demand things from me anymore Bruce.  I’m not one of your kids and I’ve been doing fine on my own for a while now.  I’m safe and okay, I’m not gonna go on a murder spree if that’s what you’re worried about.  I just need some time.”  She hung up the phone and turned it off.  “God, I forgot how annoying he can be.”

Jason came over and wrapped his arms around her, “Just stay calm.  Everything will be okay.  You’ll stay here for a bit, relax, get your head on straight, and then head back to Preston to be your badass self again.”

“Maybe I won’t go back to Preston,” she said as she looked up at him.  “Maybe I’ll go to France or Germany.  Somewhere else that isn’t here.”

“Well if you go overseas then how am I ever going to see you?”

She rolled her eyes, “I’m sure you’ll figure out a way.”  She patted his chest and pulled away from him, “Now what about pancakes?  There’s that place downtown that I loved as a kid that makes those birthday cake pancakes.”  She hummed, “I would kill for some of those right now.”

“And here I thought you weren’t gonna go on a murder spree after promising Bruce you wouldn’t,” Jason headed for the door.

“Hey, no one gets between me and my pancakes,” she said as he opened his door.

He was smiling as he shook his head, “I’ll be back.  Just don’t trash the place while I’m out.”

“No promises,” she said in a singsong voice as the door closed behind him.

[anunvalidcritic]

Justice League: Snyder Cut

(DISCLAIMER: MY OPINION IS MY OWN AND CAN BE DEEMED INVALID TO THOSE WHO DON’T CARE FOR IT.)

Oh, the time has come my friends! Now, I originally did a review on Batman V.S. Superman and I didn’t care for it, so I deleted it. But before I start, I would like y’all to read this statement made by @verified-villain-fxcker - You can click HERE to read it. As I stated in my repost, I couldn’t have said it better. May Autumn Snyder continue to rest in peace. Let’s get started!

It’s been so long since I’ve made a post I can’t even remember how I do this LOL.

CLARK is outta there to say the least...

WONDER WOMAN and LOIS look flabbergasted, as they should... BRUCE as well.

Talk about a shock-wave scream 

All jokes aside, the hate that LEX has towards SUPERMAN is just to much energy to be giving to another person..

THESE BITCHIES ARE READY

why are they letting a minority approach the fucking the cube?!?!

*insert travel montage scene here*

                      Part 1 - “Don’t count on it, Batman.”

BRUCE knows damn well he’s talking to AQUAMAN. Let’s move this shit along lol

“Oh Gotham? How’s that shit hole?” - AQUAMAN

Ik these bitchies aren’t singing rofl

I’d sniff anything wore by Jason Momoa too.

“Maybe a man who broods in a cave isn’t cut out to be a recruiter.” - ALFRED

TALK YO SHIT ALFRED!!!!

AMY ADAMS can literally take my heart, step on it, throw it in a river and I still wouldn’t be mad. 

Here comes the lovely WONDER WOMAN!

broooo her hands were moving like Donnie Yen in Ip Man!

Fucked that entire ceiling up

Ofc the one who tried to touch it would make the stupid statement. 

STEPPENWOLF is really wildin’ out

Don’t look back! I hate it when they look back!!

These are some strong as women!

                             PART 2 - “The Age of Heroes”

“It’s toxic, that’s good.” - STEPPENWOLF

I can only imagine that this is how toxic people think. 

this dude really just threw that lil demon fella like it was nothin’ lmao

You know you're working at a job for too long when you say this is the first time in a while that they're going home early smdh

Now that shit was pretty lit....

SILAS thinkin’ shit I better check on my son. 

“You know a lot about monsters, don’t you? Especially how to make them.” - CYBORG

If that isn’t teen angst, then I don’t know wtf is lmao

Seeing Gal in this tomb makes me want to re-watch Wonder Woman 1 all over again!

DARKSEID ol’ trifflin’ ass

plopped him down like he was dirty laundry

God bless Willem Dafoe, this man is a fuckin’ legend!

“This world is divided. They’re a primitive species. Unevolved and at war with one another. Too separate to be one.” - STEPPENWOLF

DeSaad kinda looks like Doctor Doom in the Fantasic Four reboot lmao

GREEN LATERNS!!!!!!!!!!!! OH SHIT!!!!!!!!

we really need a Green Lantern Corps moving...

ZEUS + ARES = A Dynamic Duo When They Aren’t Being Dicks To Each Other

You know I feel bad for man because all they did was bury that shit in the ground rofl

                  Part 3 - “Beloved Mother, Beloved Son”

BARRY + IRIS = Love at First Sight 

The burger can’t be that good like damn. 

Bro the detail on his fucking shoes and the glass!!

ROFL PLEASE TELL ME HE TOOK THE HOTDOG FOR HIS DOG!?!? 

damn did the car really need to explode...

lol BARRY must really need the job lol

... I would’ve just played dead after he threw me against that rock...

Man of Steel probably has one of the best soundtracks not just for a superhero movie but just in general

Americans love their football!

I have this love-hate relationship with CYBORG being in the JL and not with the TITANS you know since he’s a kid, but he’s a college student in this one. 

Thank God DIANA spoke with VICTOR instead of BRUCE because I honestly don’t think he would’ve gotten him on board.

Everyone can literally zigzag zoom across this planet at undeniable speed except for BATMAN lol

Come on, VIC, help the lady out.

You know honestly, BARRY has a pretty cool pad for someone who's trying to get by paying for a Criminal Justice Degree. 

“A very attractive Jewish boy. Who drinks milk, I don’t drink milk.” - BARRY

“Fuck the World.” - CYBORG

dang Ik DIANA has every right to grieve over STEVE, but damn that man has her whipped!

“You’re looking at the hottest thing on Earth. The exact same thing I said to my prom date. She dumped me anyway.” - RYAN CHOI

Why does MERA have an accent in this but not in AQUAMAN?? (ik the answer)

DAAAYYUUUMMMN MERA TURNED INTO A WHOLE BLOOD BENDER!

                               PART 4 - “Change Machine”

CYBORG just glided over silently

STEPPENWOLF + WONDER WOMAN = EPIC FIGHT SCENE

Seeing BARRY move like that to stop the debris and to ping DIANA’S sword really is amazing..

But he should not be screaming like that LOL

How do you not remember the planet that’s habitants almost killed you?? Because if that was me, I wouldn’t have forgotten that shit at all!

 Would've held a big ass grudge until I could go back. 

“I know we’re all thinking the same thing right now. Who’s gonna say it? I’m not gonna say it.” - BARRY

WOOOAAHHH J’ONN JONES?! (forgot about that)

 “There are six, not five. There is no us without him.” - BRUCE

Damn, no faith at all 

                         PART 5 - “ALL The King’s Horses”

ICONIC DIALOGUE

BARRY - “Wonder Woman. What do you think, man? You think she’d go for a younger guy?”

VICTOR - “She’s 5,000 years old, Barry. Every guy is a younger guy.”

I would’ve kept swippin’ that ID like a cashier at Wal-Mart swippin’ a debit card.

They're movin’ a little too slow for me. Ik they’ve never been on the ship before, but I would’ve been zoomin’ through that entire ship just to hurry and get the job done. 

NOT THE PREGNANCY TEST

Damn, they couldn’t have at least picked up the photo??

The foreshadowing was spectacular! It will always amaze me. 

I’m sure Allstate will cover that person’s car...

Just when LOIS was about to move on. 

CLARK grabbed DIANA like miss me with that Rafiki shit.

I would’ve come back to my senses too after looking at Amy Adams. 

AQUAMAN + THE FLASH = A CONUNDRUM

DR. SILAS takin’ one for the team

                              PART 6 - “Something Darker”

As crazy as radiation is, it’s quite an amazing spectacle.

I wish this Justice League movie could’ve held off until we got some other heroes such as the Green Lanterns, Hawkgirl, and many others. 

Our generation was truly blessed to have an incredible actor as SUPERMAN, and we are not putting him to use!

JONATHAN sounds like President Biden lol

Alright, team?! Break!

AQUAMAN is totally enjoying this fight. He rode that Parademon like a surfboard.

AQUAMAN + CYBORG + FLASH = *THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOWN*

I swear every scene that WONDER WOMAN enters into does not fail to include the “Ancient Lamentation Music”. 

VICTOR hurry up and say “one” god damnnit!!

SUPERMAN COLD!!!!

Somebody needs to put this fight on WorldStar

BARRY = HE’S A RUNNA HE’S A TRACK STAHHHHARRR!!!

THAT WAS FUCKING IMMACULATE

The Unity  = The Three Bitchies

I bet DARKSEID will remember that shit now

                        EPILOGUE - “A Father Twice Over”

VICTOR = A Final Requiem

LOL VULKO and MERA look stressed tf out!

“Uh, I have too much to live for. And more important things to do.” - LEX

A cocky motherfucker LMAO

Alright, we’re back in this type of dream sequence. 

“Who have you ever loved?” - MERA

Uh, bitch his parents, Robin tf?!

Thank you, JOKER, for stating the facts for Ms. Fish-stick

 Oh shit, they let LOIS die, goddamn it!

HARLEY’S DEAD TOO?!?!?!

BRUCE LOOK SICK AF!!!

Well, the dream is over once again...

I just don’t see how people can live with all those fuckin’ windows. 

“Oh, and some have called me The Martian Manhunter.” - J’ONN

Alright...

________

Yes, the movie was long but what needed to be expressed was. As we already the Snyder Cut wasn’t supposed to be seen because a father simply wanted to grieve the death of his child. I’ll once again reiterate what @verified-villain-fxcker you don't have to like the film but at least give it the benefit of the doubt from its predecessor. For me, I did enjoy watching his version, but let’s be honest what he who shall not be named did was just fucked up. 

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Satisfied, Part 42

First

Previous

Next

~~~

A few hours later, they were found curled up on the couch together. Marinette had found a nice place on his lap and now sat there, head resting against his chest as she put the finishing touches on Chloe’s outfit. Tim was working as well, arms slung around her waist, head resting on top of hers to see his keyboard. Occasionally, they’d pull away to chug one of the ten cups of coffee they’d stockpiled before getting right back into position.

The bats were… not prepared to find them like this. Damian groaned and walked out, muttering something about how gross they were. Jason was absolutely ecstatic, apparently seeing this as proof that Marinette was definitely going to be in the family. Dick looked a bit horrified (probably because, in his eyes, Tim had started dating Marinette basically minutes after Ladybug had admitted to having a crush on him). Bruce, however, wasn’t even paying attention to the couple themselves.

He walked over and picked up their coffee trays, much to their dismay.

“Dad, why?” Whispered Tim, who had never looked so betrayed.

“Your caffeine intake doubles when you’re together.”

“Probably because there’s two of us,” said Marinette simply, not even bothering to look up from her sewing.

“No, you both drink twice as much.”

Both of their hands paused what they were doing and they glanced at each other. Sure, they knew that their intake increased when they were around each other. They’d be stupid not to notice, considering they enjoyed each other’s company and wanted to be awake for it. But doubling their already probably (definitely) unhealthy amount was…

“I’m glad you understand. I’m cutting you kids off.”

Tim narrowed his eyes. “Would you like a reminder of what happened last time one of you guys tried to get between us and coffee?”

There was a collective wince. That prank war had not been the desired effect, and honestly they were beginning to suspect that their caffeine usage afterwards had actually increased.

Marinette, however, snickered. “Hey, sweetie, wanna move in with me?”

Tim’s eyes widened and then a grin broke across his face. “Sure, I’ll pay off your apartment.”

“Great. We’ll need to go get some more furniture this weekend, then.”

“Good, the place looks a bit plain. I’ll clear Saturday.”

“Woah woah woah sloW DOWN I THINK WE’VE SKIPPED A FEW STEPS,” said Dick.

“Desperate times,” said Marinette simply. She tipped her head back and smiled as Tim pecked her lips. Then they looked at Bruce, who was getting paler by the second. After a minute of him not relenting, she pulled out the big guns: “How do you feel about kids?”

“I’d consider it.”

Bruce quickly gave them their drinks back. “Maybe wait on the kids for a few years.”

Marinette and Tim looked at each other, then laughed as they each took a cup. “Please,” he said, “I’m not having kids.”

“Why not?” Complained Dick. “I want at least one of us to have kids! Jason and Damian are hopeless! You’re my last chance!”

Jason nodded his agreement, then narrowed his eyes and sent his brother a glare.

“No way. Kids are a lot,” said Tim, and she nodded her agreement.

“If you want kids so much then have some of your own.”

Dick scoffed and shook his head. “You three were enough, thanks.”

“Then why --?” Began Marinette, but she was cut off by his brothers complaining.

Bruce sighed and pressed his hands to his temples and walked out.

Dick crossed his arms over his chest. “At least consider having kids?”

Marinette rolled her eyes and waved him off. He gave her a pout and she made the motion again. This time he listened, sticking his tongue out at her on the way out like the mature adult that he was.

Now it was just the couple and Jason, who looked conflicted. “Mari, if you hurt him -- no, Tim, if you hurt her -- no… hm… if either of you hurt each other I’ll kill myself.”

“Jason, no --.”

“Bean, I’m breaking up with you temporarily for completely unrelated reasons.”

“TIM, NO --.”

~

She smiled as she finished the last stitch and glanced up at her boyfriend. He hadn’t typed in over half an hour so she’d expected him to be asleep. Apparently not. He was glaring at nothing in particular. She raised her eyebrows and pressed a tiny kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He blinked once and looked down at her, his face softening a little. “Hey.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m trying to think of a way to keep the Rogues out without making it obvious you betrayed them.”

She shrugged her shoulders slightly and set down her work. “Even if there was a way, I don’t think it’d stop them for long. They’d just walk inside normally… if ‘normally’ included mowing down guards.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then why bother trying to think of something?”

He hesitated slightly. “Because I’d rather try and fail than do nothing and regret it later.”

She winced. She’d thought that before, so when…?

Her brain brought her back to the night she’d met him as Red Robin. They’d been four vigilantes down, Joker had broken out. Marinette had pushed the thought of it out and told herself that, with his track record, Joker would have gotten out either way. It was a flimsy excuse to avoid whatever guilt she could and, with all the hecticness of the following months, it had been enough to distract her.

But for him… The next day she’d been sent a picture of him hunched over his computer with stress lining his face. She’d brushed it off as him being stressed out because of his work, he was a CEO after all, but now that she knew he was Red Robin she was able to guess that it had been guilt.

She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest.

“I want to at least have an idea of what we’re going to do,” he said.

“But we still don’t even know what their plan is or their motives. It’ll be impossible to think of a proper way until then.”

He nodded. “And you’re going to ask soon.”

She swallowed thickly. She’d been avoiding it for a while now. Mostly because she was scared that, if she asked directly, someone (probably Harley) would figure her out and she’d be killed. Still, she nodded slightly. “I have to at some point. Planning can only get so far if we don’t know what they’re going to do.”

He nodded his agreement. “Yeah, it would be great if everyone would just tell me their plans.”

She frowned. That sounded a bit accusatory. “What do you mean?”

He rolled his eyes. “Bean, I know you’re planning something that’s probably stupid and dangerous. And I know you’re not going to tell me, because you don’t want me to stop you.”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. It was true.

He gave a small sigh of annoyance and buried his face in her hair. “Just promise it won’t be too stupid, please. Just say ‘I will probably not die’.”

“Of course,” she mumbled. “Would I ever do something like that?”

He snickered.

“I will probably not die. I promise,” she said after a bit.

She felt him smile against her hair.

~

Tim had fallen asleep, their arms wrapped around each other. She, on the other hand, was trying her hardest to stay awake. It was surprisingly difficult, despite her track record. Still, it wasn’t all that weird. Most people would find it hard to stay awake when they haven’t moved for over an hour. Especially not if they’d been awake for days on end already.

Eventually, though, all the coffee caught up to her in the worst way possible. She had to go to the bathroom, and now.

She bit the inside of her cheek and attempted to detach herself without waking him, only to feel his grip tighten. She sighed lightly. Great.

Well, she figured she’d wake him one way or another. She tipped her head up and kissed him. It took a little bit for him to respond, but eventually he kissed back, smiling. After a bit they had to pull away due to this pesky thing called air.

She smiled and reached up to cup his face. He was blinking rapidly in an attempt to wake up.

After a bit of waiting he finally seemed to shake off his exhaustion, giving her a smug grin. “I should sleep more often if that’s how you’re going to wake me.”

She smiled faintly, rolling her eyes. “You should sleep more often in general.”

“You first.”

Marinette snickered. “In your dreams, maybe.”

“If I even had them,” he said, grinning. Then, slowly, his smile lessened. “Why weren’t you asleep?”

“Couldn’t,” she mumbled.

He frowned and brought his hands up to rub the dark circles under her eyes. “Looks like you haven’t been able to sleep for a while.”

She pulled away. “Too much coffee does that to you,” she said, sending him a short smile before disappearing to the nearest bathroom. When she came back, she found Tim clicking away at his computer. She rolled her eyes with a sigh and sat next to him with her next project, which was a suit for Jagged.

He rested an arm around her and tugged her close to his side and continued to work.

“You can go back to sleep, you know.”

He smiled. “I said ‘you first’, didn’t I?”

She rolled her eyes and started embroidering. He’d been exhausted a little bit ago, he’d fall asleep soon enough.

“By the way, I hid all the coffee in the house.”

Her hand slipped and she pricked her finger. She fought between two instincts: cursing him out or sucking on her finger to make the pain go away a bit. She settled for sticking her finger in her mouth and glaring at him. He seemed to get it, though.

“You need to sleep, Bean.”

She rolled her eyes.

“No, seriously. You’ve been up for days. How are you not hallucinating?”

She gave a tiny shrug. She actually was hallucinating, she’d just learned to ignore the things that didn’t make sense. She was pretty sure that his face wasn’t flashing rainbow colors, so she pretended she didn’t see it.

“Please, just sleep,” he begged.

She didn’t respond, eyes locked on the wall in front of her.

There was a silence as he considered what to do. “I’ll tell Jason,” he tried.

She winced. That would definitely suck, Jason would not leave her alone if he found out that she wasn’t sleeping. If what they were doing wasn’t so critical, he probably would bench her, too. Still, if she could ignore her hallucinations then she might just be able to ignore him as well.

He seemed to realize that it hadn’t worked and he sighed. “Fine, then I just won’t sleep until you do.”

She gave a snicker. Even if he had a few days on her, she was far too stubborn for his threat to worry her. He’d give up soon.

Except… he didn’t. And, as it turned out, he didn’t need to wait long. Without coffee to sustain her (the boys had banded together to block her attempts to get out of the house to get some), she was close to passing out by noon.

She glared wordlessly at Tim’s semi-smug face (he probably would have looked more smug if he wasn’t exhausted) as she dropped onto her bed. Marinette rested her head on his chest and he wrapped an arm around her again.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

“Of course, bean.”

She gave a huff and wrapped her arms around him. She honestly didn’t know if she wanted him to be there when she slept. On the one hand, he was really warm and she felt comforted when he was around. On the other… he’d probably find out the real reason why she wasn’t sleeping, she tended to mumble while she slept, and half of it wasn’t her story to tell.

She was still mulling it over when she lost consciousness.

(Tw: murder)

Her hand went to her yoyo. “Lucky charm,” she said, her voice dangerously calm.

The knife felt perfect in her hands. The grip and weighting made it feel like it was made for her. And it was.

The criminal’s eyes widened and he backed up quickly, his shoes struggling to find purchase on the slick floors. He tumbled to the ground, bringing up his gun as she advanced on him.

“Stay back or I’ll shoot!”

She gave a quiet laugh. She stepped forward again and again until the gun was pressed to her stomach. “Do it.”

And he did. Well, tried, anyways. The gun clicked. Horror dawned across his face as he realized that he was out of shots.

She smiled sweetly, grabbing his wrist and kicking his elbow as hard as she could. There was a crunch as it folded in on itself. He screamed and the gun clattered to the ground beside them. She hardly paid it any mind, twirling the knife in her fingers.

And then she plunged it into him and listened to his scream. This was nothing compared to the sound he made when she pulled the knife out again. She looked him over. He’d bleed out in minutes, she didn’t have to do anything at all.

She stabbed him again. And again. And again. Long past the point where he’d been unable to speak through the blood gurgling from his throat, past the point where he’d stopped moving.

But the worst part wasn’t the blood. It wasn’t the screaming, the yelling for help, the begging for her to stop. It was the fact that she couldn’t even bring herself to feel bad about what she was doing.

Not in the moment. Not afterwards.

And especially not when Robin was lying there, broken and bloody.

She looked down at the knife in her hands, chewing on the inside of her cheek. She’d used her lucky charm. She could do miraculous ladybug and fix everything.

Robin would be fine, he’d be alive… but she’d be fixing everything.

Her eyes flicked over the man beneath her. He’d be fine, he’d be alive.

He didn’t deserve it. Just like Robin didn’t deserve to die like that.

Her gaze fell on Robin again and her grip tightened on the knife --.

(Tw over. It’s just the memory of her killing the guy who killed Robin.)

She woke up shaking. Wait, no, someone was shaking her. Or maybe both.

Tim was leaning over her, blue eyes wide with fear as he shook her shoulders. It was the only thing grounding her, really, as exhaustion threatened to pull her under again. She felt a strangled sob escape her throat as she sat up and curled in on herself.

Arms wrapped around her and she felt herself get pulled into his side. She hugged her knees and pressed her face down so he couldn’t see the tears streaming down her face. He was talking to her, she realized, but she couldn’t hear it over her own thoughts.

She didn’t feel bad about what she’d done to that guy. Why didn’t she feel bad? She certainly should. She was a hero, or at least was supposed to be. Surely it wasn’t a heroic trait, murdering people for vengeance and then only using her power to return him because she had to.

And then, when she accidentally murders someone, she couldn’t even return him to his body? How was that fair?

She slowly peeked out of her legs to see Tim, who was attempting, fruitlessly, to soothe her (“-- t’s okay now, Bean, it’s over. You’ll be okay --!”). Guilt raced through her. She shouldn’t have slept next to him. She could have dealt with it herself. Now she’d worried him and he was probably going to feel bad about making her sleep.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, wiping the stray tears from her face. She was calming down now, she was no longer crying. “I’m really really sorry.”

“Don’t say that,” he said quietly.

“But I am.”

“And you shouldn’t be,” he muttered, kissing the top of her head.

She buried her face in his side. She didn’t bother responding.

After a bit of silence, he finally asked it: “Sooooo... what was the dream about?”

Her fingers dug into her jeans. “How much did you hear?”

“Something about ‘Robin’ and ‘help’. You were mostly just crying.”

She swallowed thickly. Great. She’d accidentally said his name. She already knew that the bats had been told that she had ‘supposedly’ killed that guy. She didn’t know if they knew that he had killed Robin.

She sighed and pulled away until they were sitting about a foot apart. Could she even tell him? Robin was the one who had died, and he clearly didn’t want his family to know…

“So it is true.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “What is?”

“What that guy you took in said. He killed Robin and then you killed him.”

She winced, which was enough of a response. She fiddled with her hands in her lap, unable to look him in the eyes. She knew that bats were against murder, everyone knew of it. Would she get a pass if it was for revenge? Would that make it worse? Tears threatened to spill over again and she pushed herself off the bed.

“I guess if you feel bad about it…” Tim said slowly.

It was an out, but one she wasn’t willing to take. It wouldn’t be right. She shook her head slightly. “I don’t, though.”

“Bean...”

Ah. That voice. She’d never heard it from him, but everyone knew it. ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed’. She had honestly hoped she’d never hear it, but...

“I need to go,” she murmured. “Give me space.”

She ducked out the door. Her hand went to her pockets and she pulled out her phone, weaving through the house.

Definitelyforgottosleep: where r u

Therealdamianwayne: My room. Why do you ask?

Definitelyforgottosleep: ill be there soon

She pushed her phone back into her pockets and rushed to Damian’s room. He was already at the door when she got there. He took one look at her tearstained face and frowned. “Uh…”

“Tim knows.”

“Yeah, he’s known you’re Ladybug for a while --.”

“No, he knows about you.”

“Knows about --?” His eyes widened as realization dawned on him. “Damn!” He hissed, his face going pale.

He allowed her to grab his arm. They ran out the door and into the streets, weaving through crowds. Where were they going? They didn’t know, they were just concerned about getting away from the bats before news spread.

~~~

I’m back

Late

But back!!

~

Me: listen I’ll do fluff next time

Me, everytime: SIKE

~

Taglist

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<3

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS | A MYSTERIOUS INTERLUDE

first time reader click here

This is a scrapped chapter. Originally, I was planning to 1) give Reader a longer, more intense destructive streak before her ending up with Tony. I planned three or so chapters that involved an abusive Quentin Beck, but, ultimately decided that to be too cliché. 2) I had planned to write at least 30% of the fanfic in Tony's/third person POV. This chapter would have been number 11/12 - Tony would have rejected her advances in the lab & she would have got hooked on Beck's charming facade.

Why am I publishing this? It seems like a waste if effort to shelf it, plus, it's Tony's POV. You can skip it since it has no relation/bearing on the current story. Just a tiny "what might have been" tidbit.

It was a moment's notice. One second, they're standing in a group, laughing, soaking in the warmth from the fireplace, chattering amongst themselves, telling tall tales and sipping their liquor. It all goes black briefly, and then they are surrounded by darkness - it's nearly impenetrable, so thick that their voices echo in it.

Tony's body was encompassed by the nanotech suit immediately after his eyes and his brain adjusted to the rapid change of surroundings. His teammates, too, had their skills honed on an instinctive level - the faint thump of Mjölnir in Thor's hands, the golden-green glow of his brother's magic, whirring of Barnes' prosthetic arm. Steve's shield stayed tucked behind the living room couch but his enhanced physique and readiness to fight 24/7 has him covering the unenhanced Clint and Natasha in mere seconds.

Tony was mostly angry rather than afraid. The team was having a good time at his party and the chance encounters of weird shit like this had been reduced to nearly zero percent possibility thanks to Friday's screening process: supervillains, Hydra agents and the likes strictly prohibited on Stark-owned premises.

It was a strange coincidence Banner had to take a break to check up on one of his experiments not even five minutes before the rest of the team was experiencing the strange change in scenery. Speaking of Strange, the sorcerer also was nowhere to be seen - Tony distinctively remembered seeing Stephen ten feet away from the bar, engaged in a hearty debate with the lead of SI's Medical Engineering department.

"This is not magic," Wanda piped up from behind him, confused. "I don't feel anything on the usual frequency. It sounds more like Friday humming in the walls, like electricity."

Good to know, Tony thought. It was nice having someone who was familiar with the undiscovered side of science - after all, Tony had always considered anything 'magical' to be science he had not personally understood yet. Wanda's most redeeming quality in Tony's eyes was the fact that more often than not she seemed to be as clueless as everyone else when it came to her powers and didn't act so high and mighty as some other people. Cloaked people, and horned people, for example.

"The fuck, man? I was hoping, just one evening, one normal evening with my beer and wings," Clint whined. Tony could hear Natasha huffing in annoyed agreement.

"Mr. Stark, what are we going to do?" His very own spider-child, on the other hand, sounded distraught. Peter's voice has this funny thing it does when the boy is upset but tries to hide it: it quivers on the vowels, wobbles slightly.

Tony had to blindly grope the air for a moment before his arm found Peter's shoulder. The boy was shivering and took the offered comfort eagerly, folding into the older man.

"Okay, whoever is pulling this stunt, my advice is: don't," Tony sighed, 12 000% Done With This Shit™, exclaiming loudly. "If that's a prank, stop it or speak up. If you got beef, then you got some nerve doing this in my tower. Show yourself."

He could feel the fine hairs on his neck stand up as the team tensed next to him, readily gearing up to pounce. Peter was vibrating in Tony's arms and the billionaire suddenly remembered the curious side-effects of Peter's powers, the spidey-sense. It must have been going absolutely haywire - the kid nearly hyperventilated himself into a heart attack.

"Stark, I must apologise for the uncomfortable circumstances. Believe me, it was a necessity - you always demand attention, whereas I need people to pay attention to me for a moment. Don't worry, you'll get yours when the time is due."

The voice was vaguely familiar. Male, slightly nasal but quiet and creeping. Insinuating. It lacked the usual boisterous bravado of a mid-grade bad guy, Tony had to take an educated guess that the owner of the mysterious voice was well-off, white. Privileged. No hint of desperation in it, as if the man was pitying everybody.

"The fuck? Q, is that you?"

Oh shit, Tony realized in muted horror. She must've been hanging around somewhere in their vicinity - which wasn't unusual, the girl usually orbited around Barnes, Wanda, Peter or Bruce. All of whom were present at the party. Tony had forgotten about her, to his shame, somehow having had automatically assumed she trotted out of the room on Bruce's heels. His science bro and her acted like conjoined twins when it came to their scientific ventures.

"Stop talking," The man growled, the voice suddenly coming from a very different direction. Tony heard a distinctively feminine yelp, albeit muffled. Peter violently jerked in Tony's arms. The engineer put the superstrength of his suit to use, holding the teenager down.

"Aw, hell no!" She yelled, the indignant shrieking followed by the sound of a moist palm slapping something glass...y? "What the fuck? I am asking you again. Are you... Oh my God, are you wearing a fishbowl on your head? Ow, motherfu-" The rest of the sentence is muffled, garbled. Whoever this "Q" was, she obviously knew him and he had silenced her. And, apparently, Q had an uncanny choice of headwear.

Tony was sure the rest of the team had followed his lead on doing a spit-take. They've fought enough supervillains with more than questionable fashion sense but a fishbowl? That was new.

"Be quiet, baby. It's for your own good. I don't want to hurt you if I can help it," The Fishbowl chastised her.

Tony's confusion once again returned to irritation at the frivolous way the villain addressed his science buddy. Peter's friend would have been more accurate but Tony had put her into the 'science bro' category not too long ago. They were close, as much as they could be, with the age gap and totally different interests and... The immense amount of guilt Tony felt for his attraction towards the girl. He was a dirty old man and she was barely an adult.

Every damn day Tony did his best to avoid making a shiny, big, new problem. Yet her brains and her wit and the uncanny ability to pull anybody into a conversation had a firm hold on his attention.

"Leave her alone," Stark angrily declared, powering up a repulsor. "What do you want? Party crashing isn't allowed in my tower anymore."

"What I want, Stark, is for you to give credit where it's due," The man answered simply, giving Tony just enough time to shove Peter behind him towards Natasha and take a tentative step forward.

The soft glow emanating from the repulsor illuminated barely two inches around his hand. The darkness surrounding it seemed to swallow the light. Tony moved on quiet feet towards the voice, easily avoiding furniture. His memory was good and he knew his tower, his home, better than anyone else.

"Did I hear that correctly, you're accusing me of plagiarism?" Tony tried for indignant, hoping to provoke the man into an inevitable, drawn-out speech where he lists all the wrongs Tony ever did him, giving the team precious time to regroup and form some semblance of a plan.

"Yes," Q simply answered, pausing for a second. "I hope you enjoy your next adventure. It certainly will show you the potential of my creation."

Tony shared a muted sound of confusion with the rest of the team.

"Q, I am very disappointed," To Tony's horror, th girl stared talking again. She sounded somewhat breathless, and closer to him than before. "Stop it with the dick measuring contest, you're a grown ass man. Go work for OsCorp, or Hammer, drink your sorrows away." She sounded so tired. And even closer to him.

"This is not a dick measuring contest!" Q roared suddenly and wow, that man was unstable. "This was my life's work, my creation, he insulted, berated and threw away!"

"I get it, I really get the whole 'being discarded and thrown away' thing," She replied, somewhat sarcastically. "But you know what? I'll be damned and I'll be fucked if I give some piece of shit any more of my undivided attention. They don't want me? Fine, they can fuck off and take their complaints with them." Her speech was periodically interrupted by shuffling noises.

Tony didn't dare to interrupt, seeing now the possibility of Q being actually calmed down by a teenager (probably) quoting some teen drama TV show.

"But going full Joker? You're a brilliant man, Quen, I wouldn't even look at you twice if not for your brains and your baby blues, however I don't fuck with the bad guys. That shit kills," The hand that rested on the wrist cuff of Tony's suit unmistakably belonged to her. She had the remnants of some sort of wire around it, sleek and quicksilver-shiny, irritating the tender skin under it. "And I want to live. You've gone and pissed off an entire crew of supers and I don't know what to do. I don't know what to think, Quen," There was genuine sadness in her voice.

Tony stood silent in confusion.

Whoever this Quen was, they obviously shared a close relationship. Tony's brain ran through the list of her friends, her relatives - there was nobody named Q, Quen or even remotely similar. Natasha had mentioned a possible boyfriend at some point but the man sounded too old for that, he was at least thirty. Or maybe? Tony wouldn't put it completely past the girl, if judging by the blatant way she flirted with Bruce. With himself.

"Baby, this is not about you. I don't want to hurt you," Quen replied, a hysterical edge to his voice. Something began flickering in the distance, attracting Tony's attention to the shape of a man with a round sort of helmet and a red, billowing cape (hello, 2012-Thor!).

"Too late, Quen. You've tied me up and you went on to attack my friends. I've already told you that if you yell at me one more time, I will leave you. So I guess this is it," Her voice broke at the end, pitiful sniffles following the statement.

Tony watched the exchange, mildly uncomfortable and very concerned. The man yelled at her? That was absolutely unacceptable, however, what else could one expect from a maniac with a flair for the dramatic?

The girl bodily placed herself in front of Tony, standing, doing nothing but rubbing her wrists. It was then that the engineer noticed Q nearing them, the shape becoming distinctively closer. And - yep, there it was - the fishbowl on his head. It completely obscured him, making his face invisible, unrecognisable.

The man seemed rather fixated on the girl standing in front of Tony. He floated in front of her, ignoring Tony, taking her bound hands in his own. A brief click and a hiss later, her wrists were released and the contraption fell freely to the floor where it landed with an oddly heavy thud. Tony hoped there was no lead in that thing - supervillains were dangerous but lead poisoning was cancerous and fatal.

"Baby..." Quen timidly touched her face with a leather-bound glove. "I didn't mean to yell at you. I'm sorry." Tony took the chance to examine the man's costume. If anything, it looked somewhat steampunk-y? There was a lot of bronze, and the chest brace had some sort of glowing lines on it. Power storage units?

She stared up, towards the man's hidden face. "M'sorry, Quen," She mumbled, going in for a hug. Or that's what Tony thought. The majestic cape that billowed behind Quen was unceremoniously yanked from his body as the girl ducked, covering herself with it, yelling: "TONY, NOW, SHOOT, SHOOT!"

Tony did just that, shot Quen flat in the chest and the man stumbled backwards, tripping on the cape - such a stupid, unexpected thing. But Tony knew, his girl was clever and resourceful. Pride swelled in his chest as he shot the man again, Rogers running out from behind him blindly, body-slamming Quen into the ground for good measure. Two hundred pounds of supersoldier later, the battle was over before it even started.

"No!" The villain shouted as Steve pressed and popped the hilarious glass contraption on his head. The accessory was no match for the Captain's super strength. Tony immediately recognised the man as his former employee, Quentin Beck, and it clicked for him. It was totally a personal vendetta.

"This stuff is tough, plexiglass, maybe," The Captain remarked, pointing at the scattered shards around Beck's head. "It appears to be augmented too, some kind of tech, I don't know. You're good at this, Tony," Steve chuckled humorlessly, roughly turning Beck around and securing his hands with a pair of vibranium-reinforced handcuffs. God only knew where he'd gotten those from.

"Good at what? Making enemies?" Stark couldn't resist the self-depricating joke.

"Stop it, Tony," Natasha's gently admonishing voice interrupted Steve's incoming lecture. Tony, for once, was thankful that the Widow interrupted. He was in no mood to listen to another one of Steve's speeches.

"Who do you work for?" That deadly gleam in Natasha's eyes was terrifying and Beck was only a man.

"I don't work for anyone but myself, thanks to Stark," He spat venomously.

Natasha cocked an eyebrow in Tony's direction.

"Fired him years ago, this guy was going nuts. Brilliant but crazier than a bag of cats," Tony replied, feigning nonchalance. He could feel a mild headache begin to gnaw at his skull. "We worked on a project together, he got upset that I refused to weaponize it. We had a falling out. End of story." With that, Tony stood up, retracing his suit to only leave the gauntlets on his hands, gathered the various pieces of tech the good captain had removed from Beck's persona and made way towards the nearest table.

Or where he thought it was. All of them were still surrounded by the uncanny darkness. The anxiety that Tony forcefully shut down reared it's ugly head as soon as he lost physical touch with his teammates. He stumbled, his foot catching onto something on the ground.

"Ow, motherfucker!"

"Buttercup, I haven't fucked your mother nor I plan to," He snarked back automatically, flooded with relief at the sound of the familiar voice.

"Hope so. She'd probably bite your dick off if you try," A hand was groping his calf and then she stood up in front of him, still clutching the ridiculous cape. It appeared to be a source of light, which was very strange. The girl looked positively demonic, illuminated by red light, face scrunched up, eyes puffy, and clothing in disarray.

"You good?" Tony managed to choke out, confusion and worry and anxiety making his chest tight.

"Balmy. My boyfriend is a homicidal maniac with an inferiority complex," She sassed, an edge of panic to her voice. "Oh, and he tried to kill one of my best friends. I am fine and dandy."

"Your boyfriend?" That was the only thing Tony heard. Bat-shit crazy Beck, his babygirl's boyfriend? There was no way in Hell he'd allow such a thing...

"My ex-boyfriend, I guess," She sighed, removing the cape from her persona. Refusing to meet his eyes, fiddling with the hem of her top. "Here," The girl abruptly thrust the cape at him. "This is a funny thing, it's like a hologram but you can actually touch it. You should, uh, probably disinfect it, or something. I've been on-uh, around it many times," It was so unlike her, the fumbling, the embarrassment, Tony wanted to wheel her straight to medical to check if she's gotten concussed again.

Then his brain caught up and all he saw was red. Figuratively and literally - the cape was still in his face, loosely hanging from her outstretched hand. She must've seen the look on his face.

The step she took back was quick and worrying. "Forget I said that, I don't know why I said that. Oh, god."

"What were you thinking?" Tony inhaled a solid lungful, prepared to make his opinion very clear. "Getting involved with a lunatic! For a second I actually thought you were smart, there isn't a chance you missed that the guy is short of a few marbles," His voice was quiet, the one of a calm fury. His words cut deeply and he could see the hurt, the shame in her eyes, on her face. Tony knew he'd regret it later however his brain insisted it was a necessary evil. He continued ranting until he ran out of breath. "Not to mention he's, what, twice your age? And he yells at you and tells you to shut up? It didn't ring any alarm bells in that pretty little head of yours?"

"Tony, stop," Steve's hand landed on the engineer's shoulder and he simply shrugged it off, staring at the quivering girl in front of him.

She was crying, silently, few tears pooling in her eyes and streaming down her cheeks, leaving ugly streaks in her make-up. Tony expected her to sass him, to argue back, to yell obscenities like she usually did when something or someone upset her but he was met with hurt, stunned silence. His worst fear came true when she looked away, shrugging.

He'd seen this sort of dejected shrug the time her father drugged her and... She just took it. She expected it, even, his outrage, his disappointment. Being hurt and mistreated was the norm for her, Tony realized belatedly. There were too many parallels between them both that made him uncomfortable deep inside. His chest felt tight, regret washing over him like a tsunami wave.

"I'm turning on the lights, close your eyes for maximum comfort," Strange's voice announced suddenly, causing everybody to jump and shudder. Tony complied begrudgingly. The sudden influx of light was painful even from behind closed eyelids. His headache became a full-on dull throb.

"What happened?" "Are you okay?" "Is everybody alive?" Resonated across the room. Tony spied several small drones smoking and crackling next to the exit door, Stephen Strange closing a portal he must've used to evacuate the civilians.

The puddle of red holographic cape on the floor. And her hastily retreating back. Damn.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie

[vikingpoteto]

hostage situation (AO3)

It isn’t the first time Bruce Wayne had been kidnapped. It certainly won’t be the last.

But for sure it’s the most jarring kidnapping experience he’d ever had.

He was in the middle of a charity gala when he was taken, which is upsetting because he was really invested in the cause this time. Alas. Bruce wakes up in a dark room, something for which he’s grateful, because he might have a mild concussion. He had been tied to a chair and left on the corner of what seems like an abandoned warehouse - unfortunately, Gotham is littered with those - and he can barely see the silhouettes of a group of people on the opposite side of the empty place. Bruce’s captors.

Bruce takes a deep breath and tries to access the situation in a calm manner. The ropes keeping him in place feel… cheap. Like those plastic rope children use to play. He could possibly just slip out of the bound since no one bothered to tie up his feet. The knot restraining his wrists is uncomfortably tight, however. There is a gag in his mouth. There are at least 5 goons watching him, but they’re smart enough to keep their distance so Bruce can’t make a lot of details about them.

That being said, it feels almost too easy to escape. He wouldn’t even raise suspicion about his secret identity if he did… which means there must be some sort of catch. Bruce wants to make his escape as simple as possible, so it’s best if he figures out what are their tricks before attempting anything

He knows for sure they’re not dressed as clowns, so this can’t be the Joker’s doing. They don’t seem to be dressed as old-time gangsters, so no Two-Face either…

A voice in his right ear interrupts his musings. “I have eyes on him. He’s conscious and tied up. Oracle is checking the building for traps.”

It’s Tim. First comes the relief that Tim has found him. He won’t have to do anything to compromise Bruce Wayne’s identity. Then comes the realization that these people had him unconscious long enough to take him from his own party and they didn’t notice the earpiece he always has to communicate with his family in case the need arises.

Could it be that this is a trap for the bats? Maybe Bruce’s identity has already been compromised and his captors are using him as bait for the others? The thought disturbs him and he wishes he could warn Tim somehow.

Then a second voice joins Tim’s and Bruce’s worry spikes.

“Am I crazy or is he tied with one of those toy jump rope thingies?” Jason asks.

“Looks like it,” Tim says evenly.

“That’s hilarious.”

“Hood, our dad has been taken hostage. Be serious.”

“I am! The thing is at least one of us is kidnapped every week. At some point you get used to it. Anyway... seriously, this looks like a cartoon. I almost expect him to just… slip out of that chair like he’s Bugs Bunny or something.”

Tim snorts and Bruce sighs. He really wished Tim would notice how strange it is that he’s so losely guarded, but, honestly, his hope was lost the instant he heard Jason’s voice. Tim is the smartest boy Bruce knows and Jason has the best instincts, but when the two of them get together it’s as if their intelligences cancel one another out. What was it that Steph said that one time? When Tim and Jay team up they drop all of the brain cells.

"Wait," Tim says. "Look at his face. That's tired #7. I think… I think he can hear us."

"No way, man… they can't be that stupid. There's no way they're stupid enough to leave a whole earpiece unnoticed."

If only.

"Bruce? Bruce, if you can hear us, blink twice."

Bruce sighs again… and blinks twice.

The two boys explode in laughter and Bruce honestly hopes they're seeing him through a camera feed, because they are very loud.

On one hand he's happy that Jason and Tim are finally getting along.

He just wishes they bonded over literally anything other than making fun of other people.

"Oh man-" Tim stutters and Bruce can imagine him wiping tears of laughter as he tries to control himself. He can still hear Jason snickering on the background. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Bruce. It's just... those kidnappers are so bad ! How are they this bad? How did they get you?" Then, after a brief pause. "I mean, we're not laughing at you. "

"I am," Jason says cheerfully.

There is the distinct noise of someone slapping what sounds like the back of Red Hood's helmet.

“Behave, you two!” Another voice joins the frequency.

Dick. Thank God. The only person that can control Jason and Tim is Dick. If Dick is the one leading the mission, this should be over soon.

“B, sorry this is taking so long,” Dick continues. “Babs is scanning the building again because she didn’t find any of the traps at first. There is a chance their security system is analog or something.”

“Tsc,” and there is a fourth familiar voice now. “We should just storm in and remove father from this humiliating situation at once.”

Oh no . Oh no, it’s Damian. Damian is Dick’s kryptonite. If he’s involved, Dick will have his hands full and there will be no one to stop Jason and Tim from just… blowing the place up for the hell of it.

Bruce doesn’t know from what angle his sons can see him, but he attempts to sign something. His bound hands are numb, so no sign comes naturally, but he tries nonetheless.

“Girls, girls, look at that.” And there’s Steph. What this situation needed was another chaos maker. “He’s saying… Hm… Who they work for? Bruce is asking who they work for.”

Never mind. Steph gets to cause chaos once because she is the only child considerate enough to notice Bruce’s feeble attempts at communication.

“Maybe he wants us to figure out who these guys work for?” Tim suggests. “I mean, knowing the M.O. would make it easier to figure out their security.”

“Penguin is in Arkham, but maybe these are loyal followers?” Dick comments.

“Negative. This place is nowhere near as damp and nasty as Cobblepot’s usual dwellings.”

The boys start discussing possible villains, their usual traps and how to overcome them. Bruce is glad they’re covering all the possibilities, as one would expect from a bat. They must always be ready for anything. That being said… they don’t seem to hear it when Steph hisses “ Cass, what are you doing?”

Before Bruce can react, a shadow drops from the ceiling. She doesn’t make any noise as she gracefully lands in front of him. His eyes widen in panic and he glances at his kidnappers on the other side of the warehouse. None of them seems aware that there is a bat in their lair.

Cass gives Bruce a soft smile and signs the word uncomfortable before going behind him and loosening the bound on his wrists. She gently massages Bruce’s numb fingers as though making sure his circulation will return to normal soon enough. When he can barely feel himself restrained, she seems satisfied with her work. She cards her fingers through his hair as if encouraging him. After planting a kiss to his forehead, Cass disappears the same way she appeared with only a slight breeze.

Her brothers have stopped bickering.

“Did Cass just-”

“Hey guys,” Duke’s voice interrupts. “I just heard the kidnappers talking. Turns out they didn’t mean to kidnap Bruce. They were trying to rob the building, Bruce walked into them and they panicked and knocked him out. Now they’re freaking out because they don’t know what to do with him.”

Silence follows.

“So the reason Oracle can’t find any traps…”

“It’s probably because they don’t have any traps.”

More silence.

Batman prides himself in being prepared for anything. Bruce has well-crafted scripts for any possible situation… except for this one. All he can do in this situation is use his recently freed hands to facepalm.

“This is it. We have no viable option but to kill them.”

“ROBIN, NO--”

All in all, it’s a mess. Considering one of the kidnappers promptly passes out when Nightwing drops in front of them, the rescue mission definitely feels like overkill. Clark once said Bruce has too many children and he thought that was a stupid thing to say until he found himself in a situation where his children outnumbered the gang that kidnapped him. It barely counts as a fight as Stephanie and Jason alone immobilize the criminals - granted, Cass was busy holding back Damian, Tim was busy laughing, Dick was busy checking the vitals of the woman that passed out at his sight and Duke was busy getting rid of the rest of Bruce’s restraints.

“What were you thinking?” Dick asks the criminals. “You guys aren’t even wearing ski masks, for heck’s sake.”

“We just needed the cash, okay?” One of them responds miserably glancing at his friends that are currently being cuffed by Steph. “We didn’t expect to run into the owner of the building.”

“And you guys were just… pulling a heist barefaced like that?” Duke questions.

“Look, we’re new in town. We left Metropolis, because how does one survive there? They have Superman! Plus we didn’t think Batman was real…”

At that, Tim starts laughing so hard Jason has to hold him to keep him from falling.

“Dude!” Steph throws her hands up. “If you guys want to be criminals in Gotham, you gotta add some pzazz! Throw in some themed costumes, I don’t know…”

“ Batgirl ,” Bruce chastises and his voice might be still a  bit raw from the gag, but he can still sound like a stern father. “We do not condone crime.”

“You’re right, we don’t. … But if you’re going to do crime anyway-”

“Look, we’re just trying to get by, okay?” A woman cuts in. “Our shelter got defunded and it’s hard to get a job when you don’t have an address!”

All of the kids are suddenly both uncomfortable and sympathetic. These are not the criminals they usually deal with, no real harm was done and none of them are truly happy about taking these people to jail.

This, however, is a situation Bruce has a script for.

“I’m sorry to hear about your predicament,” he says, pulling a business card from his pocket. “Here. Wayne Enterprises has a program of support for people in situation such as yours and we’re always looking for new employees. Lots of people leave Gotham.”

Behind him, some of his children groan and Jason hisses something about not adopting these ones too, but Bruce simply ignores them.

After all, this wasn’t that unusual of a night for all of them.

[watchtower-feed]

Death Do We Part (Part 5)

SSA Spin-off ✧ Jason Todd ✧ Physical Link ✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧ 3 ✧ 4 ✧ 5 ✧ 6 ✧ 7 ✧ 8 ✧ 9 ✧ 10 ✧ 11 ✧ 12 ✧ 13 ✧ 14 ✧ 15 ✧ Notes: (NSFW) WARNING: No rape but the narrative sort of resonates it. Don’t let the summary fool you. This is not a happy one. For the benefit of those who can’t read this, I’m going to mention the events of this part in the next one so you don’t need to read this to appreciate the whole story.  Words: 2,000+

      You bite your lips and rest your head against the back of the chair. You pinch yourself twice. You still know how each blow felt like and sometimes your muscles would spasm when you see it in your head. The moving room. The floor meeting your face. That crowbar that you now know was used to beat up Jason.

      You can still feel the sudden sucking air before the huge blast knocks your body away and the loss of all feeling before you even hit the ground. You lost your consciousness mid-air. You wonder if it was because of the strength of the blast or the sensitivity of your link, but from what Dick had told you, your body was thrown against the wall by an invisible force.

      You hug yourself and watch new writing appear.

      Did it hurt?

      You lay your head to the side. Exhausted from this conversation. Already tired of this second life.

       Jason, please. Come home.

      Jason didn’t stop talking to you after that. When he finally realized that you had nothing to do with everything, that you were just a victim, even more than he was, he felt that he could trust you more. It also helped that his memories were slowly returning ever since he found out about his death.

      At least I never accidentally called my friend’s mother ‘mom’.

      How? Are your memories back? Do you remember everything now? AND THAT WAS ONE TIME.

      More than ever, he tries to avoid any topic of where he is and you’re more than upset by this. Most of the time the past was all you talked about. He would boast about his Robin days and tell you how exciting it felt and the fulfillment he experienced from putting bad guys away.

     Sometimes he would talk about his exercises with the League but lying about its nature and intensity. At least you finally realize why your body always feels fatigued. 

      However, he did become more careful after that. There were no more cuts, not even a bruise or a stinging slap. But not because Jason was getting better. No. It was because he stopped putting himself in danger, just dodging and retreating.

      This made Ra’s Al Ghul very disappointed.

      “At this rate, the boy will take over the Bat with old age on his side.”

      Talia purses her lips, “Jokes, father? I thought that was beneath you.”

      “No, daughter,” Ra’s approaches his daughter, “this boy is beneath the League. We need to take him out of his comfort zone and release the anger simmering inside. The same anger that got him killed.”

      “But father--”

      “With our training, daughter, it won’t get him for a second time.”

      Talia stands silently by the sidelines until Ra’s approaches her on his way to leave the balcony where they watch Jason and Sensei training. “Do it now, daughter.”

      Jason sees them and he knows they know he’s slacking off. The moment Talia approaches them, Sensei has already finished training Jason and walks off after a bow to the Demon Head’s daughter.

      She stands with her arms crossed and looking down at Jason.

      “Let me guess,” he starts, “Not enough shoulder in my punches?”

      Her eyes narrow, “We are not teaching you how to maim, Jason. We want you to act on instinct. Be resourceful. Be merciless. So you can kill your enemies before they can even breathe your name.”

      Jason clenches his fist, “There’s only one person I want to kill so I can get my life back.”

      Talia raises an eyebrow, “And you think you can take him on now? With the way you are? You would be dead a second time before you even meet his eyes.”

      He turns away from her, gritting his teeth. Talia sighs and places her hand on his shoulder. “There is another thing you have to know. Follow me. Please.”

      There’s a sudden change in Talia’s demeanor. Her voice is softer and she never says please. Jason could already feel it in his stomach that this is not good news. He follows her down the corridors until he’s in an unfamiliar room.

      It was a lot bigger and it looked a lot nicer than his room. He stands awkwardly near the door when he realizes it was Talia’s room. She pulls out a brown envelope from the drawer in her desk. She sits down on her bed and pats the space beside her.

      “You would want to sit for this.”

      All awkwardness had vanished and Jason is hesitant now. He wonders if it’s something he wants to know. Something he needs to know. Talia leaves the envelope on the bed and waits for Jason to open it himself.

      The moment he touches it, she speaks, “Why do you want to go back to your old life, Jason?”

      Jason instinctively pulls down on his sleeves, “Because it’s my life.”

      “The League can be your life now. We didn’t bring you back for you to simply die again.”

      Jason scoffs, “Trust me. I’m done dying for the next couple of decades.”

      She narrows her eyes, “You’ll die as soon as tomorrow if you don’t start taking your training seriously.”

      “I’ve already had training!” Jason blows up, “You’re training me to be an assassin. Not just any assassin but into one of your little drones here in the League. I don’t want this life.”

      “Jason, we do good work here. We help citizens trample their oppressors and help societies be reborn from the ashes of their failures--”

      “You mean the ashes of their families! Men! Women! Children! Guilty and innocent! You just kill everyone.”

      “We are trying to do good just like Batman.”

      He scoffs with so much disbelief that Talia would even say that, “He doesn’t kill--”

      “But you want to,” Talia holds his hands, trying to calm him with half-lidded eyes. “Once you kill the Joker, that scum on this Earth who kills for joy, Gotham can never be your home. Batman will never accept you.” Jason stays silent and Talia presses on, squeezing his hands, “If he asks you to choose, could you walk away from killing the Joker in order to have your old life back?”

      “I--” he stammers before he thinks about it. Then he really thinks about it and he doesn’t know.

      Every time he gets flashes of his last memories, his blood boils and all he can hear is the incessant maniacal laughter piercing into deep wounds that are no longer there. Then he remembers you. Feeling everything he felt. Every single blow. Every slam against the pavement.

      Before Jason could find his answer, Talia gently lets go of his hands and holds out the envelope to him. In a whisper, she says, “There’s nothing for you to go home to, Jason.”

      Jason’s thoughts melt away. He stares at the envelope and grabs it. He doesn’t know what to expect. He opens the envelope and his fist is already clenching the photos as he takes them out, “No--- what.”

      They’re images of Batman fighting crime in Gotham city with another Robin. There are no dates on it but he knows in his gut it’s not Dick Grayson and it’s not him. It’s a new Robin. His new Robin.

      To Bruce, it has been two years. But to Jason, he was his Robin just weeks ago.

      Jason keeps staring at the photos with his mouth wide open but no word could come out. Talia touches him. She waits until he looks at her.

      “This can be your new home. We can be your new family and the League always takes care of its own.” She watches something behind his eyes change, soften, no, break. Slowly, she pries his fingers open until the pictures fall onto the ground. Jason just keeps staring at her as her hands wrap around his neck and pull him onto the bed with her, above her.

      “I wish you would stay. Stay here,” she brushes his hair, her eyes half-lidded, making Jason’s do the same, “with me.”

      You’re down in the cave, listening to Tim tell you about school and ignoring Batman sitting by the computer when you feel it. You touch your lips to find that they’re quivering, or it’s your fingers that are shaking because that was definitely a kiss.

      “Hey. You okay?” 

      Suddenly numb to everything around you, you can feel soft lips pressing hard against yours, moving intensely, hungry. When a tongue forces its way into your mouth, playing with yours, it feels like something is lodged in your throat, making your body bend over to gag.

      “Y/N!” Tim holds your shoulders but you quickly slap them away. Bruce is standing now and making his way to you.

      “What do you feel?” he asks.

      What do you feel? You feel like vomiting. You feel like someone is invading your space. You feel like you’re growing insane because you don’t want this but at the same time, it’s making you feel good.

      “No… no…” you grumble. “It’s not me. These aren’t mine…”

      Bruce’s eyes narrowed, “Is it Jason’s?”

      You blink and your eyes are blurry with tears when you open them. Who else could it be? But this means. Jason is…

      When you feel it, the abrupt touch on the ghost limb between your legs, you know exactly what’s going on. “I can’t--”

      You run deep into the cave until you can no longer hear Tim or Bruce’s voice but you know at least one of them is chasing after you. “Please don’t follow me!” you scream as loud as you can and the last of their steps echo into nothing. 

      You lean against the jagged wall and the darkness envelops you until you can’t hear your own strangled cries, corrupting you until all you feel is Jason having sex. 

      Her touch on his skin. Her tongue on his collarbone. Her hand tangling in his hair, pulling him to her. Her wet pussy’s walls pressing down on him until Jason can’t hold it in anymore-- until you can’t hold it in.

      When he comes, it feels like ecstasy. Like you’re on cloud nine and your eyes are half-lidded in the darkness. You’re breathing loud and it’s labored with saliva pooling in your mouth. Then as the crash came down, all you’re left feeling are your own emotions. You feel violated. You feel repulsed. You feel cheated and betrayed.

      You weren’t the one having sex but your body didn’t feel it like it was its own. Like she was touching you.

      You drop onto your knees as you heave, vomiting every single remnant of your last meal until only acid is crawling slowly up your throat. You cough and retch some more, willing for everything to leave your body and your mind. This isn’t something you want on your skin. In your memories. You don’t want this.

      “Y/N,” Tim’s voice is a whisper in the darkness. You wouldn’t see him even if you looked. You push your face down closer to the ground, coughing and screaming. Screaming loud. “Y/N!”

      “Don’t touch me!”

      Your voice echoes in the darkness, like a shield permeating outward until it hits Tim and makes him stop in his tracks.

     “Don’t touch me…” you whisper.

      Tim doesn’t make a sound. He doesn’t come close. He doesn’t do anything but stands there in the darkness like another one of the cave’s walls. You scream at the ground again, your strangled voice laced with frustration.

      “I don’t want this link anymore!” you heave in breaths as words come out of your mouth like acid vomit, “I don’t want it! Take it away!”

      Tim waits patiently, his fists clenching and unclenching as your screams surround you like a blanket piled on top of each other. Words coming out before one was even finished. Until finally your words turn into murmurs and sobs. Intermittent sobs because Tim can hear now that you’re hyperventilating.

      He doesn’t touch you but he kneels down so close it almost makes you want to vomit again.

      “Y/N. It’s me, Tim. It’s just you and me here. No one else.”

      You close your eyes. To you, he’s lying. You can still feel the slender and soft fingers combing your hair and legs wrapped around your thighs. 

      You crouch lower, willing yourself to not adjust to the darkness. Still heaving breaths like you’re drowning.

      “Y/N, you can stop the link. You just have to stop thinking of Jason.” You stare at the ground in front of you. You can almost see it. Tim watches you and waits for your breathing to change before he keeps going. 

      “Feel the ground beneath your hands. Let your fingertips rub the rough surface. That’s it.” Some rocks become uprooted and they roll under your fingers. You can also feel the coldness and dampness of the cave. 

      “You feel that? Focus on how it feels. That’s all you. That’s just you.”

      Hours. It was hours before you sat up and leaned against the wall. Tim never moved a muscle while he waited. You can feel the cold wall soothing your back and you focus on that feeling. You focus on your feelings. Your breath, your heart, and the things touching your own skin at this moment. These are your own and no one else’s.

✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧ 3 ✧ 4 ✧ 5 ✧ 6 ✧ 7 ✧ 8 ✧ 9 ✧ 10 ✧ 11 ✧ 12 ✧ 13 ✧ 14 ✧ 15 ✧

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

[nightcoremoon]

so for the first time I saw batman: the killing joke.

...

it was okay I guess. but massively overrated. I expected some fucking masterpiece of cinema but instead it was just two unrelated short films that were more style and flash than substance.

so first off, barbara's storyline was mediocre. franz wasn't a compelling villain; just a creep, and a trust fund brat. oh wow he's a mafia kid who stole his family's fortune by hacking. if it was the falcone family I'd have cared more but it wasn't so it's just some faceless deathfodder rando. who gives a shit. the whole situation was just a vehicle to shove batman's dick into babs. which kinda fucks over bruce's character here and judging by the timeline kinda makes him a bit of a groomer, yikes. bruce and gordon have known each other since bruce was a young boy and we know that bruce is way older than babs so yeah bruce totally knew her from birth until present day, he literally utilized an active power dynamic to police her crimefighting activities, and he should have fucking known better and stopped her when she kissed him because it would (and did) compromise their professional dynamic, but hey, batdick. and at least barbara recognized that she was behaving emotionally rather than logically when it came to bruce and paris and took the high road out. that would be a serviceable standalone episode to write her on a bus in a serialization but THIS IS A MOVIE. so for a waste of an already short runtime it's like having an appetizer before your meal but instead of something like a crab cake before stuffed flounder, you get greasy onion petals that are more fried batter than onion before getting a well done cheeseburger that's just a glorified hockey puck on a sponge with a kraft single on top. the animation and vocal delivery were excellent of course, not gonna disparage that aspect, so it was well made, but the writing was just not very good. a polished turd. quantic dream must have developed it then because it feels like I watched a david cage production.

so in a 78 minute movie, five of which were the credits, we had a half hour Disney/Pixar short except those bring joy and this brought boring. also there were a lot of shots of her ass tits and underwear that were obnoxiously male-gazey and there was a token gay for the sole purpose of dangling a carrot on a stick for the queers. look kids, warner brothers and dc comics cares about the lgbts! give us money! a waste of time before the real reason why anyone came to see the movie that literally only exists to pad out the runtime to make it a feature length (even though paying a full ticket would've been a total ripoff because, again, IT WAS ONLY 78. even 9 was 81 minutes long and that had an amazing storyline so I forgave it, but 78 minutes? ugh.

also, GOTHAM RAGE??? CRINGE. SO CRINGE.

alright now for the joker segment.

*ahem*

what the fuck? that sucked! *throws tomato*

mark hamill and the joker's lines and the art and the cinematography and the choreography was all good and the plot was cohesive. I get it.

but holy shit was the writing weak as fuck.

okay so some rando breaks the J-ster out of Arkham (already unlikely but ugh whatever), he didn't turn a trick or recruit or anything, he just went to purchase a carnival. or, steal one. but wait, he DID recruit, but he went to get all of the stereotypical Circus Freak™ stereotypes. little people, fat lady, bearded lady, wolf man, strongman, diaper man (wait, what?), and the two headed woman. I guess if you don't really think about why all of them were super readily available in the outskirts between arkham and gotham [i just realized they both end with -am] then it makes enough sense. and then literally right after that HE RECRUITS SOME GUYS TO HELP HIM KIDNAP GORDON. and then strips and photographs barbara. um. ew. you can tell the writer and director were men. Alan Moore is constantly molesting women in his comics and this one trick pony should be put down already. but whatever. the plot is weak and it only gets saved by the flashback sequences.

oh.

oh no.

they're not that great.

he's a failed unfunny comedian who just wants some money to move his wife to a better house so he turns to thievery with the mob. OR YOU COULD JUST STOP GOING TO THE BAR AND BLOWING IT ALL ON BOOZE. I mean the cops knew where to find him after all so clearly he's a repeat customer (or moore is a bad plot writer who relies on convenience and shut the fuck up and don't critically analyze it). alright so he gets wrapped up in the mob to perform a heist on a playing card factory. GET IT, BECAUSE HE'S THE JOKER??? and he uses the moniker of the red hood to retain his anonymity. I expected the mobsters to be working for francisco but no the paris storyline was only cooked up screenplay for passing the runtime so why would they do something clever and interesting and make the film cohesive? that'd be really stupid to make the movie feel more like one movie and not two short films. at least when grindhouse & planet terror did it they advertised themselves as an anthology film. whatever. he falls in the vat of acid which melts the red hood to his face and I gotta say that's actually a pretty good idea to get his face white and his hair green and his lips red. I like that part. oh wait I forgot about the most important part! his wife gets shoved in the refrigerator. OH WOW THAT'S JUST SO COMPELLING AND ORIGINAL, TOTALLY NOT SOMETHING THAT ALREADY HAPPENED TO GREEN LANTERN. TWICE. although she wasn't literally shoved into a literal refrigerator like alex was. rip in frozen pieces you absolute legend of a trope namer. alright, so... so the joker is sad because his wife died. you know, the wife we saw for two minutes and knew the moment we saw her drenched in sepia she was gonna die. and she died offscreen. kyle's gf died and he was fine. gordon's wife died and he was fine. batman's parents both died and he was fine. oh boo hoo someone I love died! fuck off. I am so goddamn sick of people trying to justify their evil with "I was sad once". it's a stupid trope and it's not compelling. the only valid version is doctor doofenshmirtz' evil(er) version in the PF movie because it's hilarious that it's because of a toy train because that's the emotional depth that fridgewomen is treated with in all of these storylines. but at least batman said so. oh yeah, I almost totally forgot, batman's in this movie.

batman punches people and nonlethally takes them out. by suffocating them and letting them get stabbed and throwing them into pits of spikes and HEY WAIT A GODDAMN SECOND! okay let's just ignore that bit and hope that the little people squeezed between the gaps in the spikes and the strongman could breathe in the face mask and the two headed women had KO gas and the fat lady was fat enough that the knives only stabbed her cellulite. it wouldn't be the biggest reach one would have to make in watching this fucking disaster of a plot mess.

now I did like that it was actually batman, and by that I mean he gave a shit about the insane because he recognizes that mental illness is not a cause of dangerous or criminal behavior, just a potential exacerbating factor if it wasn't treated. yeah he brutalized mobsters and crime lords but they were mostly in self defense while gathering intel. he politely asked sal maroni and the sex workers for information and they gave it to him without violence- he manhandled maroni but only after he reached into his pocket for a cigar which could've been a gun. also batman says sex work should be decriminalized if only by not ratting them out to the cops. he was a genuinely good person in the second half of the movie. too bad it was ruined by the shitty first half that made him a borderline groomer.

joker's song was... bad. mark hamill performed his ass off but the song wasn't that good. it just tried to be willy wonka if he was a voyeuristic monster. oh yeah have the only girl character be paralyzed stripped and photographed only to give her father ManPain™. again... the fuck? joker and batman were both gross but, again. male writers. if it was a one-off I could drop a thermian argument because, alright one and done makes sense, especially 1988 standards. but it saturated and soured the entire goddamn movie because of abhorrent pacing decisions. so you're goddamn right I'm gonna bring it up twice! joker was a creep, his plan was dumb, nolan and burton and lord/miller and even ayer had better motivations. YES I AM SAYING THAT JARED LETO'S JOKER HAD BETTER WRITING THAN MARK HAMILL'S JOKER. not nearly to the level of ledger nicholson or galifanakis but hamill didn't have a lot to work with here and I maintain that his performance was amazing; honestly I like his the best out of all of them but just... not here. but I think I can cut some slack to firelord ozai and luke skywalker even if he just phoned it in here which he didn't. writing was just weak. and that's all there is to it. don't anon me and threaten to remove my bones ok?

alright so batman and joker fought and joker got the upper hand and was gonna kill him but it was a prop gun. haha. they had a heart to heart and batman tells joker that he wants to help him get better, even after joker killed robin and molested barbara and traumatized gordon and did countless other travesties, he still said he would help. but joker said no, and told a joke that was good enough to make batman laugh. and then the credits rolled.

...

what a completely pointless and empty ending. oh it's deep and meaningful and poignant? ok sure, I guess, movie, but you didn't earn that. shyamalan did the same thing a dozen times. that doesn't make him any less of a shit writer.

I can understand the concept of batman laughing at joker's joke, humanizing him.

I get it. I see what they tried to do. I respect it.

but this movie was massively overhyped and overrated and I expected it to be so much better than it was. but overall to me it was just another batman cartoon to throw on top of the pile. maybe it was influential to graphic novels. maybe it shaped batman into what he is today. it published right as tim burton's movie and I can respect its place in the pantheon of comic history. but sometimes things that are classic...

aren't that great.

citizen kane, casablanca, the maltese falcon, the treasure of the sierra madre, gone with the wind, singing in the rain, all of them are classic and legendary pieces of art. but they're just not that good, interesting, appealing, watchable, or FUN. they were good at the time- I mean come on we all know them today- but on going back you'd have to really appreciate the finer details to still love the movies today. and this belongs there, in the vault, to be appreciated from afar. influential if dated.

but god am I still disappointed nonetheless.

TL;DR

it was just okay. had some good ideas, had some really bad ideas, had some ugly stuff. overall mediocre. first half 5/10, second half 7/10, overall 6/10.

[longformbatjokesfic]

The new hideout wasn’t quite home yet. It needed more brightly colored lights. A bit more paint, a board of some new schemes. It’d get there.

In the corner Lotso and Fatso were waiting by a bright red  corded telephone.

It rang, once, twice, three times.

Lotso picked up.

“JOKER WHAT THE HELL IS THIS. WHAT IN YOUR  DERRANGED HEAD THOUGHT THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA?

“We’re sorry Mr. Luthor, Boss can’t come to the phone right now. Until he’s available he’d like you to be treated with some fart noises from Fatso the Gassy”

“I KNOW YOU’RE THERE. I KNOW YOU WOULDN’T LEAVE A PHONE UNLESS YOU COULD HEAR ME SCREAM.”

Joker looked over from the screen he’d been watching, and rewound Lex’s freak out to the part before he’d destroyed the cameras, After he’d punched the superman mannequin with the glitter bomb inside, but before he’d torn the head of the dangly-necked one.

“Fatso, please continue”

“LOOK THE KRYPTONITE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE IN THE BUILDING. IF YOU HADN’T SLIPPED UP ON THE WAREHOUSE NUMBER IT WOULD HAVE BEEN THERE. I WASN’T TRYING TO HAVE HIM KILL YOU.”

Joker pushed Fatso aside.

“Then what about the gas-leak?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know, the one that filled the room of  warehouse 25 so that it blew up when the blue boy-scout tried to use his laser vision to open the door? The one that would have killed me and all the nice reporters I’d captured if we were there.”

Silence.

“Really, no response?  Jeez, at least my new toy tries to lie. I’m not sure you’re a decent replacement.”

“I’m assuming you’re talking about Bruce Wayne.”

“Oh you two work together don’t you?”

“Yes- kind of- I’m trying. Look you-“

Lex looked around his ruined condo.

“-clearly don’t trust me. But you still trust my money right? I have a job for you. I’ll pay you half in advance as a sign of good grace.”

“Because that worked so well last time.” Joker had his free hand on his hip. He didn’t know if it translated over the phone.

“I’m just asking you to continue tormenting Bruce Wayne, maybe go a little harder. You were doing it anyway.”

“Hmm, I do like getting paid for activities I’m already doing…. How much?”

”200 grand”

“Oh that’s pathetic, you’ve paid me more for other hits. Not interested.”

“$500 grand” 

“It’ll take me longer than a normal kill, tormenting him, and I’m still mad at you for trying to kill me.

”“For the last time I- 2 million. 1 full million as a bonus before you do anything to him. Final offer

”Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm-”

Joker let Luthor sit on the phone for minutes just listening to the long hum.

“mmmmmmmmmm. Nope. Bruce gave me a better offer to torture you! He really understands what I value more than you do. Thanks for asking though!”

He then took the opportunity to slam the phone as dramatically as possible.

[maxdark158]

PART TWO OF BEING INSPIRED AND WRITING ANYWAY

PLEASE check out the amazing @ozmav my friend!! AMAZING!!

Characters are probably OOC because MLB is a kids show and you guys liked stressed and cursing Damian so I kept that going even though it’s probably OOC

Angel in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Ao3

Demon in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Ao3

Fanart for AiG: Riddler ~ Joker thank you @thegreysman

Please tag me in any fanart you draw for this guys ^^

oooOOOooo

Damian tried to ignore his phone after checking it for the thirteenth time. But who was counting?

He was, actually. Because it seems the stupid worry feeling will never fucking go away! It took root, and it’s only growing. Damian wondered if drinking weedkiller works on emotions. The bitches.

He wasn’t even that worried initially! Sure, he wanted his An- Marinette to text him when she got to the hotel, but that was just… a friend thing. It’s what friends ask! And they were friends.

Damian wasn’t worried on the car ride to the manor, he had only checked his phone once then. When his father questioned him about The Riddler incident, he was thoroughly distracted and didn’t check at all. After he left the room he checked twice in one minute just to make sure he didn’t miss anything in the first check.

He checked sparsely while training briefly, adding up to eight… okay, maybe not so sparsely. But at this point the awful god damn plant had grown a mouth and it was gnawing on his sanity, bugging him every moment of peace he had.

Damian was getting really fucking sick of this whole worry business. It was awful! Why did Grayson partake in it for so many years? Why did anyone?

He was beginning to understand his classmates’ sense of humor now. But “I want to ka-shoot myself,” was not as funny as they thought it was.

Damian was so busy thinking about worrying and getting more worried – the fucking circle of life – that when he checked his phone for the fourteenth time, he realized he missed a message from Marinette.

Angel: I’m at the hotel now.

Thank fuck. Damian banished all the worry from his mind – leave, motherfucker – and typed out a response.

Damian: That’s good

Damian: Did you get in trouble?

Wait fuck the worry wasn’t gone. He wanted to smack the phone against his head. Or break his thumbs for typing that without his permission.

Angel: Professor Mendeleiev must’ve been tired or something.

Angel: She didn’t leacture

Damian bit his lip. Marinette needed to work on her English.

Angel: Lecture?

Damian: *lecture

Angel: Quiet, English is hard

He could fucking understand that! It may have been long ago but Damian had to learn once too, ya know.

Damian: Understandable.

Damian: In my original question I meant any of your classmates btw

Holy fucking shit his thumbs would be cut off by sunlight he swears to all the justice league members-

Angel: btw?

Angel: Oh by the way

Damian: yeah

Angel: I’m good at text slang in French, okay

Damian: I don’t doubt you

He really didn’t. Marinette seemed intelligent if The Riddler incident had anything to say about it.

Angel: Anyway Alya tried to bother me but I’m good now

He frowned. Alya? She hadn't told him about her.

Angel: Professor Mendeleiev told her off for bothering me after my ‘traumatic’ encounter with a Gotham villain

Damian: Speaking of, are you SURE you’re alright Angel

Damian sighed, letting his head drop. Okay, fucking fine he was still fucking worried and he hated it. His thumbs weren’t to blame, his fucking emotions were.

He pulled up Google to look up liquid weedkiller when his Ang- Marinette texted back.

Angel: I’m fine

Angel: I’ve survived akuma for three years, I’m not about to let some riddle fanatic with terrible clothing choices ruin my day

Damian: His clothes are that bad?

Good, subject change. Maybe he can stop fucking worrying.

Angel: Too much green, for one

Angel: Green shouldn’t be used in large portions when it’s that bright of a shade

Angel: Also the cloth itself was cheap, but the kind of cheap meant to look expensive if you don’t know cloth good

Damian frowned. That was so fucking obvious. Surely she didn’t actually make that mistake…

Damian: *well

Angel: Whatever

Angel: Also his hat didn’t match the type of suit he was wearing

Angel: If he wants to go old fashioned he should at least match the time period

Angel: Longer coat, more layers

Angel: He is an atrocity

Her comments were appreciable though. He could see where she came from.

Damian: he is

Angel: If I had time to cry then my tears would had been blood

Damian: *have

Damian grinned. If Marinette didn’t want her fucking grammar fixed she should learn how to spell in English.

A different motherfucking bitch of an emotion appeared at that thought. He didn’t like that one either. It made him feel bad for being mean.

Angel: istg

Damian: It appears you’re learning

Angel: Yepp

Damian: Also the Gotham news posted an article online about you

Might as well bite the bullet, right?

Damian: “Unnamed Teenager From France Holds off The Riddler Until Batman Arrives!”

Angel: Wait what?

Angel: But we both held him off?

Damian: I was kind of useless, you did most of the work

God damn it! Damian thought he told that emotion to get the fuck out! He was fucking Robin he isn’t useless, he just happened to not be needed at that exact moment.

Damian: I left shortly after you solved his riddle because the Robins had arrived

He grumbled to himself. He hated emotions. It wasn’t like he hadn’t ever felt them before, but they were easier to ignore. This girl made them hard to ignore, and Damian wasn’t sure why.

He did know that he fucking hated it.

After a moment, he realized h- Marinette hadn’t replied for a few minutes.

Damian: You there?

Angel: Yeah. I was just reading the article

Good. He didn’t want anything to happen- motherfucking dammit.

Angel: The Riddler was bad at hand to hand combat. It was easy to take him down with the practice I have from Paris

Damian: I bet.

He saw the time on his phone. Marinette had more field trip stuff tomorrow morning, right? Shouldn’t she get to bed?

Damian: It’s getting late, Angel. We should go to bed.

Damian: Goodnight

Angel: Goodnight

Angel: Also I’ll find a chat name for you soon, promise

Damian’s smile felt weird on his face but unlike the god damn worry and fucking other emotions, he didn’t hate the feeling of it.

After replying, he prepared to get dressed for his patrol as Robin.

oooOOOooo

“Sooo, Robin,” Drake dropped down next to him. “Want to share why you were at that ice cream parlor with that pigtailed French girl?”

“Fuck off,” is Damian’s extremely eloquent response. He can say it in many different languages.

“Wait, Demon Spawn has a girlfriend?” fucking Todd over the fucking comms in his fucking awful Red Hood suit. At least his current helmet didn’t have the fucking lips.

“No, I don’t-“

“I’m trying to figure that out, Red Hood, so would you kindly butt out of the conversation.”

“Of course Red Robin, good luck getting anything out of him though.”

“I don’t have a fucking girlfriend you numbskulls,” Damian hissed through the comms.

“Wait what’s this about a girlfriend, Robin?” Grayson’s overexcited cheerleader voice screamed. Damian wanted to rip out his eardrums.

“Red Robin, I thought I instructed you to leave him alone about this,” finally, his father, for once being a fucking voice of reason, speaks on the comms.

“Bruce you said I should wait until he admits to having a girlfriend,” Drake sounded too smug, Damian wanted to cut it off his masked face. “We know that isn’t going to happen.”

“I hate this fucking family,” Damian hissed.

oooOOOooo

Marinette hadn’t missed her field trip this time. Or had she? Maybe she slept in really fucking late. Damian didn’t know. He didn’t know what her sleeping schedule was like.

She could have also been captured or killed. Those were not fun thoughts. The fucking worry was back, like a virus. Damian anxiously awaited his weedkiller.

She likely wasn’t kidnapped or dead. His father would have known by now and would have told him. He hopes. If his father didn’t tell him he’s a fucking asshole.

“Master Damian.”

“Yes?” he turned around to face Alfred, grateful to be away from the god damn brain-eating plant in his head.

“I simply wanted to prevent you from walking into that wall,” Alfred gestured behind Damian.

He glanced and – yep. Fucking hell. He almost walked into a wall because of the god damn weed of an emotion forcibly taking his mind hostage.

He was having a grand ol’ time.

“Perhaps you would like to go for a drive?” Alfred asked, a single brow raised.

Damian hesitated. “Alright. Where do you want to go?”

“We can figure it out in the car, Master Damian.” Alfred went to grab the keys and his shoes. Damian checked on when his weedkiller would arrive.

A week.

Fucking fuck fuck.

He should have paid for one-hour shipping.

“Are you ready to go, Master Damian?”

“Yes.”

Alfred didn’t try to talk to him during the drive, for which Damian was grateful though. He hated this emotion thing, and people forcing him to talk made it so much worse.

His phone buzzed. Damian pulled it out and checked it.

Angel: Kill me now

His eyes widened. What happened? Is she okay? Did someone- god fucking motherfucking dammit bitch.

Damian: What’s wrong?

Stupid god damn worry.

Angel: We have to all get lunch as a class before I’m free

Angel: I’m in the group with Liar Rossi

Damian raised a brow. Marinette hadn’t told him much about this girl in her class, but he knew she lied and nobody but Marinette knew she lied.

He didn’t like her.

Angel: Death would be sweatier

Damian: *sweeter

Angel: Rude

Damian: Anyway

Damian: You can’t die yet

Damian: We still technically didn’t get ice cream

Absolutely wonderful excuse you fucking asswhipe. Damian should be a politician with that reasoning.

He looked around, recognizing the streets. They were a bit weird from the actual street instead of the rooftops, but-

Damian: Also you’re at the Gotham City Heroes and Villains Museum right?

Angel: Yes I am

Damian fought to keep the smi- self-satisfied smirk off his face. Bingo.

Damian: I’m nearby

Damian: I can pick you up for lunch

Angel: OMG really? Please do I’d really really like that

Damian: omw

“Alfred,” Damian leaned up toward the front seat. “Head to the Gotham City Heroes and Villains Museum? I’d like to pick someone up.”

“Of course Master Damian,” Alfred’s tone didn’t betray anything about his thoughts, but for some reason that was calming to him.

The car drive to the museum was fairly short, if Damian was honest. They were only a few minutes away to begin with anyway.

When they arrived, Damian saw a redhaired girl with glasses yelling at his An- Marinette. At Marinette. He couldn’t hear what Marinette had said, but it must have been good. The red-haired girl’s jaw fucking dropped. The people behind her looked fucking dead.

Priceless.

Marinette saw him and he waved. Alfred unlocked the door, and Marinette got in. She didn’t look back at her classmates' faces as Alfred drove away.

Shit. Something must have happened. He wasn’t good with emotions though, after all he ordered weedkiller to see if he could get rid of fucking worry.

So, Damian Wayne did what any Wayne would do when faced with emotions.

Ignore them.

“Where would you like to eat, Angel?” Damian asked.

Shit, fuck, too insensitive.

Marinette shrugged. “I’m not sure, I don’t know what’s here.”

She sounded so goddamn miserable-

Damian frowned. “Angel, you okay?”

Fucking shit, stupid mouth. Learn the fucking rules. He should be banned from fucking talking.

“I’m okay,” she mumbled. “I’ve got a lot on my mind right now.”

Damian wanted to press the issue but decided against it. If he was happy when Alfred didn’t make him talk feelings, maybe Marinette would be too.

He was a friend first – wait first before what, exactly?

“Alfred, can you take us to the nearest,” he glanced at Marinette. “four-star restaurant?”

“As you wish Master Damian.”

He hoped Marinette didn’t feel out of place, but he wanted to lift her spirits. She deserved to smile – that was a weird fucking sentence what the fuck?

Damian is pretty sure he’s losing his marbles.

“I know,” Marinette suddenly blurted out. “I know you’re Damian Wayne.”

Fucking fuck fuck.

Shit. She’s probably pissed he didn’t tell her-

“I just want you to know that doesn’t change anything. You’re still my friend, and I don’t care who your dad is and who you are.”

Damian gaped at her for a moment before shaking his head. He should have fucking told her, he’s an ass. “I’m sorry you had to find out on your own. I should have told you-”

Marinette interrupted, “you didn’t have to. You don’t owe me that.”

He was confused. What?

She didn’t want to know who he was right off the bat? She was okay with that secret?

“As a stranger or even a friend, you don’t owe me any details about who you are. Ever,” Marinette told him. “You’re allowed to keep secrets and not tell me things you aren’t comfortable sharing. It isn’t fair of me to demand you tell me everything.”

Holy fucking shit.

This… this woman…

“Thank you,” he said earnestly. “I… nobody’s ever said secrets are okay…”

Marinette shrugged. “I can’t help if I feel left out, but forcing you to tell me everything isn’t how friendship is supposed to work. If you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay.”

Damian’s smile was small, and it felt a bit out of place on his face. He couldn’t find it within himself to care.

“Perhaps instead of a restaurant, I can take you both to the mansion for your lunch?” Alfred, the god damn traitor, suggested.

He wanted to say ‘have you lost your god damn marbles, Alfred?’ but he didn’t.

Instead, he said, “You sure Alfred?” like a fucking loser.

Marinette glanced at him. “You don’t have to if you aren’t comforta-”

“No, it’s not that,” he assured. Why would she think he was uncomfortable? His brothers were menaces, but he was used to them! Marinette, however... “My brothers can be… rambunctious.”

Drake and Todd were going to have a fucking field day, especially after what they pulled last night over the comms. He was lucky Grayson was working today. But those two motherfuckers…

Marinette smiled. “I can handle them if that’s the only reason you’re nervous.”

Damian thought for a moment.

Fucking fuck fuck.

He hoped she could. Because if they caused her any unnecessary harm or discomfort he would murder their asses.

With pleasure too.

But one look told Damian that he wouldn’t need to. This girl was going to be the death of him. He hoped the weedkiller was miraculously early.

He sighed. “Alfred, please talk us to the mansion.”

“My pleasure, Master Damian.”

Fucking fuck fuck.

[m00nslippers]

Why as a Jason Todd fan, I don’t talk about ‘punishing’ Jason.

I wrote this as a response on one of my other posts but I think it needs to be it’s own post.

I’ve been seeing a lot of ‘discourse’ about Jason fans not talking about the things Jason has done like shooting Damian (twice) and beating up Tim (twice) or railing on Bruce or Dick or whoever. They are annoyed that I and others are not calling for the pitchforks and continue to be sympathetic. I’ve seen some unreasonable people who seem to think no Jason fan will admit (at least to their satisfaction) that Jason has done bad things. Some seem to want me to admit that Jason is a bad person, which I think is unreasonable and untrue. They also think it’s unreasonable for me to hold the bat family responsible for not giving Jason adequate psychiatric care and emotional support.

So here. I’ll explain why I think the way I do.

Do I, as a Jason fan not talk about Jason’s violence that much or hold him as accountable as you apparently do? Maybe not, I don’t know, but if that’s the case then I’ll tell you why.

Jason-Antis see Jason’s violence as something he chose to do with full knowledge, presumably because he just likes hurting people or because he’s so selfish that he’s willing to hurt people to get something that benefits him and only him.

But that’s not how I see it. I see Jason’s violence as a symptom of abuse. The vast majority of the time, Jason’s violence is a reaction out of fear, to escape or prevent himself from being hurt or abused, or prevent the hurt or abuse of others.

Honestly the vast majority of time in society in general crime or abuse is a result of past abuse or other issues like poverty or the person’s needs otherwise being met. You meet the need, you treat the root, the unwanted behavior goes away.

Jason has been conditioned to violence for his entire life, by his upbringing in Crime Alley, by the abuse from his father, by Bruce training him to be Robin, by Talia training him to kill people. Jason’s entire life has taught him to use violence to meet his needs and solve his problems. It’s not his nature, it’s just  all he knows how to do. He’s like a dog who has been hit and beat and starved and thrown into dog fights. Of course he’s going to attack people the moment he thinks he needs to. Is that the fault of the dog? No, it’s the fault of the human who trained him that way. So if it’s not the dog’s fault then should it still be punished? No, it should be re-conditioned in a place where it can’t hurt anyone until it’s safe to enter society.

But Jason is not a dog, he’s a human with logic and reason and empathy, you say. Yes, but the kind of systematic abuse and conditioning that someone like Jason has undergone will literally warp your view or reality, will interfere with your ability to use reason and logic and if you are afraid or desperate enough it will overcome your ability to empathize with others too.

But Jason’s actions often seem systematic and manipulative, you say, so doesn’t that mean he’s just hurting people for selfish reasons because he wants something? Not necessarily, Jason is highly trained and clearly makes decisions in a very systematic way. He’s highly intelligent and has a lot of self control, so he channels his fear into planning and strategy, which have been taught to him by others. Most times when he’s been really violent he’s actually been trying to get away/escape capture. Other times when he’s been violent he’s been very emotionally distraught. And still other times it’s in service of his goal to kill criminals–which is born out of his fear and pain of them continuing to hurt him or others. He might seem in control, but that’s only because of his training, and his constant planning and goal in itself is mostly a response to his constant anxiety and fear. He channels it into his revenge/execution plans.

So you look at me and you say, well fine, let’s say for arguments sake all Jason’s actions all stem from his untreated mental illness. But there still needs to be a punishment because what he did was wrong.

But I’m telling you that, logically speaking, no. He actually shouldn’t be, not if your goal is to prevent the behavior–which for Jason absolutely needs to be the goal because clearly punishing him is impossible if you aren’t going to kill him since he keeps escaping prison (which is part of his point, that punishment is either impossible or doesn’t work for some criminals. He is a walking case of his own point.). Punishing him isn’t going to stop him from killing people, it’s not going to stop him from hurting people, it’s not going to stop anything it’s mostly just going to make it worse. Because nothing the bats are willing to do is worse than what he’s already been through, what he’s already built up in his head as the consequence of not killing/hurting people. At this point every criminal he sees is just the Joker and he’s terrified at the thought of him/them walking free to hurt him or hurt others.

The bats tried to punish Jason multiple times, they’ve tried fighting him, they’ve tried imprisoning him, they’ve tried yelling at him, they’ve tried ‘reasoning with him’ (he’s sick, he’s not reasonable). But none of it worked. Jason kept killing, kept ‘acting out’.

But you know what curbed Jason from killing? Roy and Kori. Once he got friends who weren’t telling him every moment ‘you’re a killer, stop killing, you’re crazy’, who were emotionally supportive, who made him feel safe–low and behold he stopped or at least significantly calmed down. That’s honestly how I know that most of his behavior is anxiety/fear based.

And sure you can say, ‘well different people wrote different things it’s just different writers writing him differently you can’t read anything into it.’ Well maybe, but I can and I am. The more I read about him the less I actually want to throw out, the more cohesive it actually feels to me in a lot of ways. And If you are going to hold Jason responsible for everything he’s been written as doing, then you have to take his New 52 change too. You can’t have the first and not the second. Either he beat up Tim and shot Damian and calmed down as soon as he got friends, or neither count because they are both writers writing him ‘out of character’ and there’s not point even bringing those things up.

So to my mind at least, talking about punishing Jason is stupid, it’s pointless, and it’s pointless talking about it. That’s honestly why as a Jason fan I don’t and why I don’t dwell on the fact he’s done “messed up things to his family.”Yeah, I identify with him but I don’t identify with his ‘need for validation’. I identify with his need for psychiatric treatment that he can’t get because his family will not treat it as the disease it is, with the care he deserves. Because that’s been me before, and it’s a reality for a lot of people in the country I live in.

And yes, asking his family to recognize his illness and bring him in, to accept him and help him even though he’s actively hurting them is a lot to ask for the average family. But the bat-family is not the average family. They are geniuses and they have all been trained in psychology and victim treatment, and they are trained physical fighters who can protect themselves against him. If anyone can handle it, it’s them. They know better, they can do better. In a world with non-shitty DC writers they probably would do better. But if we’re taking all of Jason’s shitty writing, then we are taking all of theirs too. And I don’t think they are doing as much as they are capable of.

So that’s a problem which a lot of the anti-Jason arguments that I see. They are solely focused on the bad things he’s done, and saying his fans are ignoring them. They say ‘yeah he’s traumatized, but that doesn’t excuse him hurting people’. And from my perspective that’s missing the point.

And I don’t want to call anyone out or make assumptions about anyone, but this kind of thinking, that people with mental illness and people who commit crimes are responsible for their own actions and no one else is culpable even though their action or inaction resulted in their behavior–feels like the same kind of bullshit I see everywhere in society. This person steals–let’s not address the fact that they can’t afford to eat because they aren’t paid a living wage, let’s just throw them in jail. It’s the same mentality.

Punish the symptom instead of treating the illness. It’s just laziness, in my opinion.

[justicealwaysprevails]

decisive inaction.

WHO: Bruce @justicealwaysprevails and Jason @thatsjasonfkntodd WHERE: The Manor WHEN: April 30th, 2020 WHAT: Jason is forced to move back to Wayne Manor once Joker makes Red Hood’s identity public.  

Jason: The longer he waited to relocate, the higher the chance that someone was going to start looking for him in the right place. Jason gave himself a day after the puppet show to pack up most of his things, or at least the important ones, and showed up at the manor with two suitcases. Everything else had been put into storage, and he’d already given notice that he was vacating the apartment. Anyone looking for Red Hood there wasn’t going to find a damn thing.

What he hadn’t done ahead of time was tell anyone where he planned on going instead, mostly because he loathed the idea of it entirely. He left the suitcases in the foyer and considered looking for Bruce, but he wasn’t stupid enough to actually believe he didn’t already know he was there. Instead, he spread his arms out to the sides and did a half spin. “Are you going to come welcome me home or pretend I’m not here?” He’d hear him. Bruce: After what happened at the theater, Bruce considered reaching out to Jason and asking that he come to the manor. Jason would turn it down, he was sure of that, so he made a conscious decision not to. He would rather say nothing and not completely eliminate the option. He wasn't ever ignorant when it came to Jason's line of work and the choices he made, although it would seem so by how little he interfered. It wasn't a fight worth having, not right now, and Bruce told himself it was something he could handle any time. Now that his identity was public knowledge, it made everything much trickier.

He saw him arrive. Before Jason even finished speaking he was there, exiting the kitchen just down the hall from where he stood. "Welcome home." The tone was hard to read in being nothing but matter-of-fact and direct. His gaze was more scrutinizing. "We need to talk." Motioning for Jason to follow, he turned to lead the way to the cave. This wasn't something he wanted anyone overhearing. Jason: “I see the detective work is in full swing today.” Obviously they needed to talk. He had plenty of things to say, as he always did when it came to Bruce, and no more reason to hold back. His problems had finally directly and irreparably interfered with Jason’s life.

He followed him down to the Batcave. He’d been there a handful of times recently with Dick and Tim, but it always had a different feel with Bruce. They were stepping into his space, his element, and it always gave Jason a little stab of something. Resentment, maybe. “Are we drawing straws or are you going to go ahead and give me your one sentence review of the situation?” Bruce: The only response to Jason's barbed comments was no response. Bruce learned that a long time ago. It encouraged them otherwise. He'd given up discouraging them a long time ago, but at least the back and forth didn't escalate this way.

"No." He sat down, not bothering to ask Jason to do the same. He would choose to sit or he wouldn't. "I need you to tell me if I'm missing anything." Nodding to the screen, he opened up a file that contained the information on each and every person that had a reason for a grudge. There were many. Jason: Jason did not sit. He didn’t feel like acting comfortable there, because he wasn’t. Not with Bruce. Not with the situation they were in. Not with any of it.

The file as large enough that it took a second to load. Of course it was. “Can I sort this by country or...?” Jason folded his arms and stared up at the screen and for a few seconds he did entertain the notion of going through the whole exhaustive list to see who was on there and who might not be, but he gave it up quickly. “You’re missing plenty. I don’t need you to put my life in a bunch of neat little files so you can think you’ve got it all figured out and taken care of. None of this should be happening. Do you get that? Did you give one single fuck about dragging all of us down with you when you threw your name out? It was just luck that we’ve had this long without all of us getting announced.” Bruce: Instead of responding, Bruce pulled up a simple sorting system that was simple to navigate. He demonstrated twice before moving back so Jason could have access to the screen.

He was expecting this. The others hadn't said anything, not yet, but that didn't mean they weren't thinking the same thing. In the past he'd learned the hard way that some of his responses weren't be acceptable. There was a time when he stopped trying to consider how Jason might receive what he had to say. He never saw results from the effort. Sometimes it seemed to make it worse. Alfred advised him against "giving up", even though that wasn't the way Bruce looked at the situation at all. "You're right, Jason. But it's always been that: luck, and we were running out. Too many people knew my identity before the carnival. Joker certainly knew." He no longer shied away from the name. "I had more control of it this way. My biggest regret is that I did not talk to everyone before it happened." Jason: “No, it hasn’t always been luck. I worked my ass off staying under the radar all these years. I’ve got safehouses in places nobody would think to look. If anybody tracked me, they didn’t track Jason Todd, who got buried ten damn years ago in Gotham City. They tracked Red Hood.” Jason raised his hand, one finger pointed at Bruce, “Here’s a free tip for you, Dad, your control over a situation isn’t the most important thing in the world. It wasn’t your control that should have mattered.”

It didn’t matter how much distance Jason put between himself and Bruce or between himself and the rest of the family. He could never actually get away. Bruce always thought he was owed some kind of say, some kind of consideration, some kind of control, just as he’d said. “I built something for myself, something you didn’t want, and now your ‘biggest regret’ is that you didn’t get to give a heads up before you fucked all of us? What a joke.” Bruce: “It has, because your name is tied to mine. No matter how careful you are, you can't change that." Bruce maintained a quiet, even tone despite Jason's obvious anger. "The most important thing to me was to minimize the impact as much as I could. That required having control over the circumstances. No amount of caution prevents a telepath from reading your mind, or the minds of those who know who you are, and even if you eliminate all loose ends the risk remains. It is naive to believe otherwise."

There were plenty of times when Bruce hadn't said to right thing to Jason or Dick and received a similar response. He knew by now there was no point in trying to anticipate what the expected answer was. Sometimes it could make a difference with Dick, but Jason could find malevolence and surmise meaning when none was meant. "What do you think my biggest regret should be?" Jason: “No, I can’t change that,” the sudden shift to bitterness implied that he’d wished several times that it wasn’t the case. What would have happened to him if he hadn’t tried to boost those tires? He had no idea. Maybe Crime Alley would have eventually killed him, maybe he would’ve met Batman in a whole different capacity later on. He had a lot of what ifs and maybes he’d never have answers to, because it was just as Bruce said...he was all tied up to him instead. The Wayne name was inescapable and Jason didn’t even wear it, really. He was not, had never been, and never would be Jason Wayne. He fixed Bruce with another flat look. “Yeah, that’s me. Naive.”

That question had a fresh wave of irritation bubbling up like he never felt around anyone but Bruce. “Oh, I’ve got a laundry list. You can take a little column A, a little column B, mix and match...” Where should he start? With the obvious? Making it about himself and only himself would be letting Bruce off the hook too easily, though. “But why don’t we start with what you just said. Once you touch something, once you pull someone into your fucking,” he made a vaguely round gesture in the air in front of him, “orbit, you take away any shot they’ve got at any other life. And for what? To be part of your cause? The big legend? I’m sick of going down with this ship, Bruce. I’ve done it too many times, and so has everybody else.” Bruce: Bruce did think that Jason was still naive in some ways, but he didn’t bother explaining or clarifying. He had no doubt of the implication Jason made, nor did he question his sincerity, but it still affected him. That was something that he had accepted wouldn’t fade or change with the passing years. The only thing he could do was minimize interference in Jason’s life while still upholding his personal sense of justice. He’d turned a blind eye more frequently in the recent months.

“I know.” There was no use in denying simple truths. It wouldn’t do either of them any good and Jason would see through it. “If you’re asking if I regret putting you in danger, then yes. I do. If you’re asking if I regret adopting you as my son, then I am unable to give you the answer you're looking for." There didn't seem to be a way to separate the two. He'd kept Dick away from the batcave for some time, but Jason knew him as Batman first. Jason: Jason ran his hand back through his hair and couldn’t help the sharp, humorless laugh that slipped out. “It’s funny when you say shit like that, because from where I’m standing...it was more like I was a pity project and then a sidekick, not a son.” On paper, sure. Sometimes it seemed to dawn on Bruce and he remembered, like he had right then, but all the other parts for them never lined up. He’d wanted a father, in the beginning, but he’d been quick to figure out that he wasn’t going to get one in Bruce Wayne. He was going to get Batman. It was Batman’s opinion of him that mattered, and Batman’s opinion that he could never live up to.

“But I think maybe congratulations are in order, because you’re getting what you want now. Red Hood is down for the count for awhile, and I’m stuck here until I have a better option.” He turned his back on him like he meant to walk away, but all he did was take a couple of steps and keep talking.  “After all this time and all this bullshit, you’re still letting Joker do this to all of us.” Bruce: "You weren't the first orphan I found living on the streets of Gotham, or the last. I didn't pity you." Bruce had plenty of projects and a myriad of ways to help. There were a dozen other routes he could have taken. "And if I only wanted a sidekick, there are much less complicated ways. I wanted you to be my son, or I would have taken you in as a ward." Dick was his ward for several years before Bruce officially adopted him. It wasn't a move he made thoughtlessly.

It always came back to Joker. Bruce had turned away, as if he were looking at the screen, but the very name made his body stiffen. "I had hoped revealing my name would take away that power." He never thought Joker would take the extra step to reveal the identities of everyone around him, even though it was a step realized now he should have anticipated. Jason: I wanted you to be my son. Jason tensed and curled the fingers of one hand hard against his palm. “Could have fooled me.” It wasn’t as if Willis Todd had given him the best gauge for what a father was supposed to be before he’d been killed, but he was still damn sure that Bruce had missed a lot of marks. If he hadn’t seen him pull it together for Tim and Damian, maybe it would’ve been a little easier to stomach, but he knew now that Bruce was capable of it and just...hadn’t.

“You can’t take power away from him!” he snapped. “The only way it’s gone is if he’s dead!” Just because Bruce had changed the stupid fucking game he played with Joker didn’t mean that the clown was ever going to stop playing it. Bruce: It wasn't a sentiment Bruce ever expected Jason to believe. Alfred encouraged him to say it anyway, for reasons he didn't fully understand, but it was advice he'd chosen to take. "You were never afraid to challenge me," he continued, as if he hadn't heard Jason's comment. That was the quality that caught his attention in the first place. It was also what made the role of Robin so difficult for him to handle. Robin was there to support Batman, unquestioningly and obediently, and that never came naturally to Jason.

He knew Jason would never understand why Joker was still alive, why Bruce didn't choose to put an end to him once and for all, and there were times when Bruce would be hard-pressed not to agree with him. "Perhaps," he said simply, quietly. "But it has never been that simple." Jason: "You don't want a challenge. Not this kind. You want a challenge from fucking...Superman, not from me." Because Jason challenged too hard, got too far from what Bruce wanted, and in the opposite direction. If he was actually out of his mind enough to join up with the League, there was no way in hell Bruce would've ever actually listened to him. He was kidding himself if he thought otherwise.

Jason gritted his teeth so hard he felt his jaw ache until he relaxed it. "It is that simple. You just don't want it to be. The only reason Damian isn't dead is because Joker decided to use him for a different kind of message. How many bodies do you need to hold, exactly, before you stop making excuses?" Bruce: Bruce shook his head. "I asked you to join the league for a reason." He didn't know what motivations assigned to it, if any, but it wasn't an invitation he extended without fully intending to see it through - despite knowing what Jason's probable answer would be. "We don't often agree, Jason, but that doesn't mean I'm not listening."

That earned a longer silence. He hadn't anticipated what happened with Damian, but it made him more determined to rein the Joker in before it continued. Frowning, he looked up at Jason with an unreadable expression. "If you and Dick had managed to capture him, what would you have done?" Jason: “You wanna tell me what good listening does if nothing I say ever actually matters? Because all it means to me is that you’re not deaf.” Bruce didn’t bend, and if he did he definitely didn’t bend to or for Jason. He still couldn’t really comprehend why he’d asked him to join the League, but he knew damn well what it would have been like if he’d agreed to do it. It would have been him compromising, him bending, not Bruce, not the rest of them.

Jason turned to face him fully again. “I don’t know what Dick would have done, but I would have put a bullet between his eyes where it belongs.” He’d said it so many times, yet it still wasn’t done. Bruce: "It matters." Bruce couldn't say for certain how much influence Jason would have over the league, not when it came to certain points, but there were other discussions that could yield different outcomes. "You are more similar to them than you think. It is easier to see the differences." Killing was the glaring difference, even though Bruce was well aware of which members were not wholly against it.

It was what he thought Jason would say. He sighed, his gaze shifting back to the computer screens. "And you believe I have never wanted to do the same thing." It was a statement more than a question. "It isn't so simple for either of us." Jason: “Because the differences are what bite me in the ass, and they’re exactly why I’m only here because I don’t know where else to go.” Because Bruce had fucked it all up and left him scrambling again. “You know, sometimes I think maybe I really am an idiot, because I’ve never been able to figure out how you can look at me and spend your precious twenty words a day to just lie.”  Bruce wouldn’t call it that, but how was it not a lie to say things, make claims, and then not follow through on any of it?

“It doesn’t matter if you wanted to do it a thousand times, because you never did!” As soon as Bruce looked away from him, Jason cleared the distance between them so fast it looked like he meant to hit him. All he did was grab his shoulder instead. “Don’t act like I’m not standing right here. You’re going to keep looking at me this time, dammit. This is still happening because you’re letting it happen.” Bruce: "I am not lying to you." It was the only response he could give to cut through the accusation, but it wasn't something he could make Jason believe. At the end of the day, it didn't matter what he said or did - if he couldn't get through to Jason, then it all just fell on deaf ears. Bruce knew better than to give up, but that didn't mean he knew how to navigate the situation any better than before.

He did turn to face Jason, his expression stoic and grim, and he put his hands on his arms. It wasn't to keep him back. The gesture was instinctive, something he would have done with Tim, Dick, or Damian, and there was barely any strength in the grip at all. "I never did, but it wasn't because your life wasn't worth it to me, Jason. That will never be true, no matter how many times you say it, and I will never claim otherwise. That would be the lie." Jason: "Oh, really? So when the time comes and I put my mask back on and go enact justice my way, you're going to let me come right back here and you'll nothing to say because you're cool with it now?" Letting him into the League was condoning it. At the very least, it was complacency. When had Bruce ever actually been complacent? When had he actually let any of them just be themselves?

"If I was worth it then you would have done it, Bruce. I don't care how many times you say otherwise. I don't even care if you actually believe you're telling me the truth." He probably did think that, even. Jason knew how deep his convictions ran. Bruce might very well be utterly convinced that he meant what he was saying, but that conviction didn't change the reality of it - that Joker had killed him, he'd hurt all of them, and he was still out three walking, talking, breathing...

Bruce: Although he would never condone Jason’s methods, Bruce was more than aware that turning a blind eye to his actions in Star City suggested a level of complacency he rarely exhibited. “You and I will always have different ideas of justice, Jason. But perhaps that is what the world needs. There are enough heroes.”

He shook his head, frowning, but his tone remained even. “If I were to kill Joker, he would never die. His blood on my hands guarantees his immortality. There are greater punishments than death. And there are other ways to kill. You have your ways and I have mine. That doesn’t make what I said any less true.” It was a conversation they would never see eye to eye on, but he would continue to have it, as often as necessary, despite an instinctive urge to shut it down. That was a tendency he did his best to curb in recent years. “We have had enough conflict. I want to work with you, not against you.”

Jason: He half wondered if Bruce had been brainwashed. Maybe having his identity out to everyone had forced him to change the way he did things, but Jason wasn’t as naive as Bruce thought, and he wasn’t buying into his act of compromise. He didn’t believe it for a second. If he went along with it, the only thing that would happen was Bruce realizing his “mistake” as soon as he was actually confronted with it. Where would that leave Jason? Even more screwed.

Even if he had been entertaining the idea, the continued belligerence over Joker did away with it. “His blood on my hands guarantees his immortality. That’s the biggest bunch of bullshit I’ve ever heard. His blood on your hands wouldn’t kill and torment your family or terrorize and poison random citizens, would it? Stop trying to be poetic about cowardice.” Bruce: Disagreements like this always ended poorly, especially when  they were with Jason. There was little point in repeating himself when he knew Jason could never understand or be satisfied; it didn't matter if it were the truth or not. Bruce didn't know what Alfred expected to happen from his efforts, but he was confident this was not it.

"It could." The response was immediate, but he didn't intend on offering an explanation. "And it has the potential to do much worse, even now." Moving back, he returned to the computer. He would work on the leads he had with or without Jason's help. "Let me know when you're ready to hear the truth. I refuse to entertain your exhausting inaccuracies on my motivations any longer." Bruce: “Your truth is just that. Your truth.” Jason turned to go, even if he was stuck at the manor on a short term basis. “I’ll be out of here as soon as I’ve got something else set up.” There was nothing else to say, and he didn’t bother to look back again before going back upstairs.