#it’s so obvious he’s projecting his feelings for Batman onto her too

[little-engineer-who-cant]

Jason and Clarisse orbit each other around Silena. Because love is only a triangle if it’s closed on all sides.

Part 9 of Sirens Scream Names Forgotten by Tomorrow, Laid to Rest in Infinity

(also posted under cut)

“The city is for strangers, like the sky is for the stars and I think it’s very dangerous if we do not take what’s ours.”

- Gray or Blue (Jaymay)

She’s on his chest, sleeping peacefully and he has no motivation to move her. The warm sunlight streaming across their bodies, his hand in her hair, the soft sheets tangled around them, her weight grounding him to the here and now, the silence in his head. He could stay here for an age, caught in the restful grey area between sleep and consciousness, warm and content. Bundled in blankets, weighed down by soft breaths and gentle hands, tied up by dark hair and a heaviness in his bones that makes him want to sink into this mattress in a way that will leave a permanent impression. 

Something tickles in the back of his mind, a faint niggling reminder that he has things to do, places to be, people to talk to, but he forcibly shoves it away. Days like this were so very few and far between, it would take half of Gotham going up in flames to stir him from this bed. This bubble feels untouchable, a fallacy he knows exists only in his own mind, but it lingers. Sweet and as fragile as spun sugar, alluring to live in. For a moment, he indulges in the fantasy that this is a normal life, a normal day. No work, he and his love could just lounge in bed with no responsibilities other than each other. 

The creak of a footstep shatters that illusion, making him fling an arm over his eyes with a bitten back groan. No alarms sound in his head, telling him exactly who is coming down the hallway, who he is going to see.

He peeks out from under his forearm as Clarisse leans into the doorway, braced on the handle.

“What’s up?” he murmurs, doing his best not to disturb the peace.

“It can wait,” she assures, going to lean out of the room again.

“Clarisse.” She leans back in, brow pinched in confusion and he points to the empty space on the bed, right by the door.

“What…” but she’s drawn by the same strings Jason is, the same shape huddled under the blankets, still gone deep in the world of sleep. So she approaches, despite the protest lingering on her lips like syrup, eyes drawn to the spider web, to the honey that brings them both colliding together. She sits, delicate, trying not to break this gossamer thread of a truce that exists in a bedroom that feels removed from the world.

“Should I point out the obvious?” It’s not as mocking as he means it to be, not as flippant as he wants. It’s too quiet, too raw. Because he knows what he’s seen, the layers upon layers of history between these two friends turned-

“I’m not you,” Clarisse whispers, her hand resting delicately on the curve of Silena’s hip, eyes shadowed with hesitance and reverence alike.

“And I’m not you,” Jason replies just as quietly. Their eyes meet, the past and present looking a possible future in the eye. One or the other-

Her hand leaves Silena’s hip and grasps his wrist, pulling the arm from his face, over his head and onto the pillow.

“You’d better not be getting fatalistic on me, Todd,” Clarisse growls, bracing her weight on that wrist, pressing it into the pillow even as he snarls at her in reflexive response. Aggression for aggression, her restraint for him to fight. A challenge, given and answered as easy as breathing. It’s only Silena, somehow still sleeping on his chest that stops him from lunging head on into a fight he probably will not win and Clarisse knows it by the grin on her face. 

“Fuck off, La Rue.”

“Make me.” She presses further down, arching over the woman slumbering on between them, unaware of what’s surrounding her, restrained only by her presence. The pulsing violence, desperation of each having what the other wants, her, her past, her present, her secrets, her love, suspended together. 

It would be so easy for one or the other to snap, to reach out with deadly hands to eliminate the other. So easy for the breaths they’re sharing to become vicious words, bite wounds, bloody caricatures of smiles. Fanged mouths, belonging to fight dogs, tilting in anticipation of ripping out the other’s throat even as they each anticipate one another too well. Like recognizes like and they’re hungry to tear the other apart. Maybe, if she digs deep enough into his corpse’s chest cavity, she’ll find whatever it is she searches for in his eyes, whatever awful thing beats in his brain like a tumor, maybe she can extract it from him with a surgical violence that feels like salvation. Maybe she can succeed where others have failed because she’s not kind, has never had a reason to care about him.

“Do it,” he begs or orders or some derivative combination of the two. Tear it out, and put him back in the ground a whole man even if she has to do it piece by piece. 

“What do you want me to do?” Her grip tightens, their noses brush and he can taste the blood on his tongue already.

“Tell me the obvious.” He can see the red sparks that shoot through the brown of her eyes, the minute way her skin strains over veins that pulse with almost too much power for a single being to control and yet she confines it as effortlessly as she regulates her breath, the warmth painting his lips and making him whine.

“I’d rather show you.” Their breaths solidify into a proper kiss, the last space closing and their mouths meeting with more gently than he ever thought either of them capable of with anyone but the woman between them. Fangs blunted, claws retracted, blood firmly within their own veins and not pooling between their mouths. A piece of him expects the darkness knifed between his ribs to rise, a challenge to be made and answered, a struggle, a fight, but nothing stirs. His head stays silent, the warmth of the sun, of Silena, of Clarisse melting into his bones and keeping him supine, relaxed, here in this time and place, this bed, this life. 

“Mm?” They slowly part at Silena’s inquisitive little hum, her slight stretch and possible confusion at being squished. But there is no panic in him, no rush in Clarisse’s retreat. No fear in her eyes and Jason doesn’t feel caught. He feels free. “Come’ere,” Silena’s hand reaches blindly behind her and finds Clarisse’s arm at the oddest angle, tugging her rather ineffectively. “Lay down,” Silena nuzzles further into Jason, tugging Clarisse again.

“Silena,” Clarisse murmurs, hand tightening on Jason’s wrist and making his breath catch. 

“If you’re gonna make out, do it in bed. ‘M sleepy,” Silena mumbles back, half muffled by Jason. Clarisse has no response for that, no witty come back or sarcastic insult. Slowly, she obeys, releasing Jason’s wrist in the process. Returns her hand to Silena’s waist, thumb stroking soft skin tenderly as she props herself up on one arm, eyes drinking in whatever picture they make in her shadow.

His hand leaves Silena’s hair and cups Clarisse’s jaw, stroking her cheekbone as delicately as she touches the woman between them, silently asking her to come back. A request she answers as they kiss again, gentle and kind with their rough hands, scarred faces and brutalized bodies. Her own hand leaves Silena’s waist to grip his bicep, both of them curled around Silena’s warm body, a shield and a reminder. Two soldiers made for fighting their fathers’ wars, made soft in the sunlight of a spy’s bed, all three of them twisted together in a heaven of their own making, holding a tiny slice of peace in one another’s palms.

“I love you,” Silena whispers as they break apart and Jason doesn’t know or particularly care who she meant it for. If she meant it for either of them at all. Because he loves Silena, of that there is no doubt. And in this syrup-slow sunrise as he looks into Clarisse’s eyes, he thinks he could love her in some way too.

—

“What is this to you?” she asks him as they watch a warehouse burn a few blocks away. The perfect trap, baited and tripped, another rival gone from the underworld that Jason controls with an ever more iron fist.

He wishes that gave him any hope of surviving this conversation.

“What?” Clarisse snorts, but doesn’t look at him.

“What are we doing, Todd. You and I.”

“Burning shit,” he plays dumb. Now she looks at him. 

“Don’t.” 

He sighs. Looks away. Fiddles with the helmet in his hands. It’s easier to leave the temptation to start a fight if he’s not looking at her. Because the temptation is still there, the desire to dig around in her guts until he pulls out whatever is in her that Silena loves and puts it into himself instead. 

(Do an autopsy and a vivisection leave the same scars?)

“I don’t know,” he admits. “But you’re here. You love her. And she’s been alone for a long time.”

“What does that make you then?”

“Someone who will only ever know a part of her.”

“That makes two of us.” He looks back at her, catches her wry smirk. “Between the two of us, she might be a whole person.” That makes him snort, leaning on the smokestack of this old ass warehouse they’ve posted up on.

“Why do you care what this is?” he asks, curious. “Because to me, if you’re going to stay, I’d rather know the writing on the wall and have a chance at making a bridge than fighting you at every turn.”

“You talk as if jealousy is easy to turn off like a switch.”

“Oh, so you want to gut me too?” It’s comforting that he’s not alone in the sentiment.

“I don’t know what she sees,” Clarisse hisses, looking at him with fire in her eye and venom on her tongue. “I don’t get why she keeps you. Why she cares enough to fight for you, in whatever way she thinks she can.”

“That makes two of us,” he parrots. She swipes at him and he dances far enough away that it’s a glancing swat across the face instead of a concussive force.

“I have had it with you,” she growls, closing the gap between them faster than he can blink. His helmet clangs to the floor as she shoves him back, the railing digging into his spine, their noses brushing as she bends him further, fangs out again, fighting dogs ready to lunge- “Do you have a death wish?”

“I’ve already died,” he shoots back flippantly, “tends to lose its impact after you’ve walked away once.”

“You fucking idiot-” the air between them is red hot, pulsing with blood and rage and violence in a way they chain for most people. The darkness they only release for the worst of the worst and for each other. It’s nice to have company in the depths of hell, of burning so completely with another person that there will be no telling the ashes apart.

“I’ll be-”

“If you say fine-”

“-alive no matter what you do,” he gloats, his own teeth out and aching to dig into her skin, to rip and tear and burrow his way down into her until maybe, if he curls up in her lungs, he can breathe again. “What?” he taunts breathlessly, half laughing even as he wishes she would press farther, maybe just push-

(Be the monster we know we both are.)

“Not going to kill me?” he continues, laughing in her face like it fools either of them.

“I’ll making living hurt so fucking much you’ll wish your death stuck,” is what she promises instead. Pushes him further, bending him back like this is a dance and not a deadly compromise.

“That’s what this is then,” he wheezes, chest burning as his stomach trembles while trying to keep himself balanced. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” but she’s smiling and letting him stand again.

“How do you want the list?” he asks, following her retreat until they’re both away from the edges and toe to toe, eye to eye.

(Heart to heart.)

���Hm. It’ll be more fun to figure it out,” she promises and he laughs and the city burns behind them.

—

The bed is empty when he wakes up. The sun is high, casting two long shadows across the room in the shape of two familiar women. One is short and hunched, folded over, while the other stands tall and proud, both silhouettes washed out and hazy in the dim light that manages to scrape through both the dingy skies of Gotham and the gunky window.

Turning his head, he sees Silena leaned against the window, watching where Clarisse is bent over the railing in the fire escape beyond. 

“You can go back to sleep,” she tells him and he stretches out with a purposefully long and luxurious groan.

“And miss whatever riveting conversation is happening here?” he half-jokes. These two could say more in silences than he’s read in entire novels before, so only their gods know what he’s missed in the quiet.

“Not a conversation,” she corrects, shooting him a smile over her shoulder. There are faint circles under her eye. No sleep. “Just… waiting.”

“For what exactly?”

“For her to… Decide I guess.”

“Hm.” He rolls to his feet and stretches again, reaching towards the ceiling and popping his spine in several places. Clarisse doesn’t move as he joins Silena at the windowsill. Either she’s so deep in her thoughts that she's missed his movement, or she’s ignoring them. It doesn’t matter much either way because neither spectators step out on the fire escape. Silena leans into his side and he wraps an arm around her shoulders. The window is dirty, but he sees their reflections in it, their faces superimposed along Clarisse’s back.

“I don’t know what you want to hear,” she says to their mirrored selves. 

“What question do you think I’m asking?” He watches the muscle in Clarisse’s back shift under her shirt as she rolls something over in her hands.

“If I’m happy. With…” she sighs, perfectly shaped nails drumming a staccato rhythm on the sill for a moment. “Whatever arrangement you two have figured out.”

“Arrangement is a harsh word.”

“So give me a better one to use.”

“I prefer understanding.”

“What exactly is there to understand?”

“You.” She looks up at him, lips pursuing but it doesn’t quite stop him from seeing the way they are curling up at the edges.

“And here I’d thought I was at my least mysterious when around the two of you.”

“She knows who you were. I know who you are. Somewhere in there…” he rolls his tongue over his teeth.

“Is a roadmap to learning me?” she asks and he can’t decipher her tone.

“You’re the only one in both our worlds,” he defends. “Maybe, if we both understand you-”

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” but her fingers twist with his, cupping the spot where his hand is on her arm. “But I…” she swallows, their eyes meeting in the window over the curve of Clarisse’s spine. “Are you doing this because you want it? Or because you think I do?”

“Can it not be both?” he asks. 

“Then which is it more?” He takes a breath. 

“Does it matter?” Because he doesn’t know the answer.

“Give me the best you’ve got.”

“This life is going to kill us,” he reminds her and she smiles, sweet and sad and he lets the warmth in his heart melt over onto her tongue. Her eyes flutter shut and she takes a deep breath, shoulders sinking in pleasure as she swallows whatever his devotion tastes like. “Maybe we’ll get back up, maybe we won’t. But…” Her eyes open again and they both look to the dim sky barely visible around the clog of buildings around this shitty sanctuary they’ve made their own.

“Walking together,” she hums. “And you want to understand how I love her too.” Her head tilts up and she presses gentle kisses along his jaw. He nuzzles down into her hair. Her fingers detangle from his long enough to unlock the window but he’s got the strength to push it up with one hand without leaving her arms so he does. She muffles a giggle in his skin as her hand rests on his stomach instead.

“Are you two done gossiping about me?” Clarisse inquires, turning at the noise and he sees what she’s been holding all this time.

His half-mask dangles from her fingers, thumb running compulsively over the slits that cover his mouth.

“Are you done thinking about whatever drove you out here at dawn?” Silena shoots the question back instead. 

“I don’t think there’s a cut and clear answer to that.” Clarisse shifts her weight and leans against the rough brick wall next to their window, head back and eyes closed. Silena lifts a hand and hooks two fingers into the pocket of Jason’s sweatpants that Clarisse has claimed as her own.

“Then tell us what you’ve got right now,” Silena leans against Jason’s shoulder, head finding the nook where his neck and shoulder meet.

“I can’t stay,” she whispers, like the admission will shatter them all, staring out across the city instead of looking them in the eye. Jason’s mask spins aimlessly in her hands. “I… Gotham isn’t mine. Not like it’s either of yours.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to leave,” Silena mumbles, her nose tucking down next to Jason’s collarbone to hide her pout. 

“It does.” Jason runs a hand down Silena’s arm to soothe the tension. Clarisse is kind enough to ignore it, if she even noticed. “I have people out there I have to help. I have obligations and friends… I can’t stay.”

“Okay,” Silena accepts quietly, squeezing Jason in warning before he can open his mouth and make this sad resignation into a fight none of them will win. “Just remember to come back every now and again, will you?”

“What?”

“You can’t stay,” Jason agrees, squeezing Silena in return. An assurance. This isn’t a fight anymore. “But that doesn’t mean you have to leave forever.”

“That doesn’t mean you two have to wait for me,” Clarisse sighs.

“We won’t be,” Silena replies simply, leaning away from his neck and pushing her sleep-wild hair out of her face, before tucking herself more firmly under his arm. Surrendering to the inevitable. “But just because your path isn’t twisted with ours doesn’t mean it has to separate forever. We love you.”

“However it has to be,” Jason finishes. Silena’s hand clenches against his abdomen. He strokes his fingers through her wild mane in quiet comfort. Clarisse is going to leave. If they let her go, there’s a better chance of her coming back.

“I didn’t think I’d be having this conversation with you of all people,” Clarisse scoffs at him, but there’s no heat and she’s staring at the empty eyes of his carelessly tossed mask instead of glaring at him.

“I like to think I’ve gotten a little closer to living,” Jason muses. Silena turns back into his neck, he kisses her hair. “And I’m greedy. Death took everything once, what little I let myself have. The Pit tries its damnedest to make me get rid of the rest, but fuck that. I’m taking everything I want. Fuck the world and fuck what it says I should want. I’m already defying it by breathing. Why not keep it up?” Clarisse laughs then, the lines around her eyes deepening. Silena hums into his neck, her smile framing a tendon. 

He holds out a hand. Clarisse ignores it, but her arm bends at a painful angle to fit through the window frame, their hands tangling together in Silena’s hair. Silena rests her head in the cradle of their palms, calm and trusting. The rabbit baring her throat to the wolves that love her. Clarisse crouches down to their level, presses a kiss to the jugular they both will kill to protect.

They all know Clarisse is going to be gone when the sun rises tomorrow. Her spot in the bed will get cold, her place at the table an empty void, the space at his side a lonely reminder when he’s on patrol, but he’s not going to chain her and Silena certainly won’t. But they’ve made their offer, opened their door. All that’s left is to see if she walks back in. 

And as Clarisse squeezes Jason’s fingers, pressing the curves of their entwined knuckles against Silena’s skull, he knows she will.

[gothamsfinestdummy]

I’m revisiting the Batgirl part of Death of the Family and, I know I shouldn’t be, but I’m losing my mind laughing at Joker stressing all of the pet names.

I know that I shouldn’t laugh at the panel where Joker holds Babs’s mom at gunpoint BUT the “will you do me the very great honor of being my SPECIAL POTATO SALAD FOREVER AND ALWAYS, dear little she-bat” line TOOK ME OUT.

[autisticcassandracain]

Thinking about Bruce and Cass’s relationship and how interesting and complex it is yet again.

The thing about Bruce and Cass is that they’re fundamentally extremely similar, and they know this. Bruce is more aware of it than Cass, at least initially, and this plays into their relationship a lot. Bruce essentially sees Cass as a younger version of himself, to the point where he struggles to remember that she’s her own person. This means that he projects all of his mental health problems all over her.

This is very obvious with the way he pushes her towards vigilantism, and the way he seems to think it’ll solve any and all of her problems. It’s why he sees no issues with making her live in a mini-batcave, and why he disregards all of Barbara’s advice about making Cass live a normal life. To a degree, his approach isn’t wrong. It’s true that Cass, like Bruce, needs vigilantism in a way that the rest of the Batfam doesn’t, really. Bruce sees this in a way that nobody else really can, and it’s why his solutions to her problems often work better than Barbara’s. 

But at the same time, he is wrong; Cass clings to vigilantism because it’s easier for her than trying to live a normal life, and Barbara is right that this isn’t healthy, and that she needs to learn how to live, not just fight. This is something Bruce doesn’t seem to understand, because it’s something he can’t apply to himself, so he doesn’t apply it to Cass, either. If all he needs is vigilantism, than all Cass needs is vigilantism too, surely. And if Cass needs something different, than that puts Bruce’s own coping mechanisms in question, and he can’t have that.

We also see this level of projection when Cass is revealed to have killed someone. Bruce’s intense denial and anger is irrational; it’s clear that Cassandra, at eight, was brainwashed and didn’t understand what she was doing. When she did comprehend what killing was, she immediately abandoned it. The fact that she has killed should, therefore, not negatively reflect on her current character or capacity for heroism. Furthermore, it really should not be this surprising to the World’s Greatest Detective that the child of a world-class assassin who was trained to be the ultimate assassin her whole life has killed. It doesn’t take a genius to pull off that level of deduction.

But Bruce’s denial and anger isn’t about Cass, really. It’s about him, and how it threatens his own self-image. Bruce projects himself onto Cass and feels like she’s the only one to truly understand the depth of his no-killing code, and therefore, the idea that Cass could have actually killed someone scares him. Because it proves that the no-killing code isn’t an inherent character trait; it’s something that’s permanently in danger of being broken, and that terrifies Bruce. He doesn’t want to think of himself as a man capable of killing, and yet, it’s a fact he has to confront when he watches someone who considers to be his mirror kill someone.

At the same time, Bruce isn’t the only one with unhealthy ideas of who the other one is. Cass has similar problems as Bruce in that she doesn’t really see him as a person, but unlike Bruce, it’s not because she sees him as an extension of herself; it’s because she sees him as a symbol rather than a person. And why wouldn’t she? It’s the image that Bruce has always wanted to portray, and it’s a side of himself he shows especially around Cass. When they only interact in a vigilante capacity, it’s no real wonder that Cass sees Bruce as Batman first and only.

Batman is larger than life, to her, an ideal and a goal and a chance at redemption all in one. She never asked about Batman’s secret identity, because she didn’t process the fact that he had one, because Batman is not a person to her. This means that she takes any opinion he has on her not as the potentially flawed opinion of a man, but practically as the word of a god. She internalizes all of his opinions on her and tries desperately to live up to an impossible standard, not one Batman set, but one she set for herself, encouraged by Batman, both the man and the symbol. 

And the way Cass treats Batman as something more than human is internalized by Bruce, as well. It reinforces his own belief that Batman, the symbol, is more important than Bruce, the man, and encourages him in his unhealthy focus on vigilantism, as well as his decisions to encourage Cass to do the same. This level of hero worship isn’t healthy for either for them. 

Eventually, both of them start to mellow out. Cass realizes Batman has a life outside of the cowl in Bruce Wayne: Fugitive, but I’d argue that the first seeds of independence were sown during the Shiva fight, when she comes to terms with her past actions and, therefore, stops trying to hold herself to at least part of the impossible standard set by Batman’s ideals. Bruce’s writing is less strong, but he eventually concedes to Barbara that she has a point, and helps Cass move to Bludhaven, where she strikes out and focuses more on her civilian life in a way that she never could’ve under Batman’s shadow.

Batman and Cass’s relationship is one based around the idea that neither of them sees the other as human, and coming to slowly understand that they are wrong, and that is okay.

[hyuckssunchip]

Reputation

Pairings: Johnny x Reader, ft. nct 127

Words: 4.3K

Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), angst, some fluff

Request:  Angst 42 and 48 ➵ “You promised.” “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t leave.” / @jungcherie​

(im so sorry i took so long.... i turned a drabble into a story... oops)​

Johnny Suh had a reputation that was unmatched.

There was no other way to put it.

And a reputation like his left trails of tears.

A pool of tears that you were currently drowning in.

It was obvious Johnny was dangerous, perhaps that’s why you were drawn to him. While every single one of your instincts had you fighting and rejecting him, you were desperate for him all the more.

It was March 13th that you lost your first will.

“Y/N, right?”

You turned around to find a familiar face towering over you.

“Yeah.” 

It was that stupid smile that had you. 

“Hey, we have have Communications together. I was wondering if you wanted to do that project together?” He scratched the back of his neck like he was embarrassed. “I just know that you’re insanely smart so... Sorry, wait, that sounds like I’m just talking to you for your grades.”

You giggled nervously, a habit that you did when you were uncomfortable.

“Look, I just... do you? You know, wanna do the project together? I mean, I’m a pretty smooth talker so I can do the presentation. I get good grades too...”

Stupid smile.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. There’s actually a little party at my frat tonight, you maybe wanna come? Get to know each other before we drown in work?” 

Fucking stupid smile.

“Yeah. I’d like that.” You blushed at the idea, cursing at yourself for being so obvious. 

Parties weren’t really your thing. 

But at the time Johnny Suh was.

Your ears were pounding because of the insanely loud level the music was at. You were actually shocked that no one had called the cops with a noise complaint, but the fact that they were on frat row made more sense.

“Y/N. You made it.” A arm was flung over your shoulder and, thankfully the lights were both dim and flashing enough that he couldn’t see the way that you blushed at the action.

“Yeah. Is it always this loud?” You asked, still not so comfortable with the atmosphere.

“What?” Johnny yelled, pointing at his ear, indicating that he couldn’t hear you. Of course he fucking couldn’t. Then he jerked his thumb to the right, nodding at the backyard, which was seemingly empty.

With his hand placed on your back, he guided you outside, your head already thanking him from the escape of noise pollution. It was far better outside of the house.

The two of you collapsed onto the swinging chair, sighing as you cleared your head.

“So parties aren’t really your thing?” Johnny leaned closer, noting the look of relief that you had donned the moment you exited.

“It’s not that I hate them... I’m just not a fan. I mean a bunch of sweaty, horny drunk people grinding on each other. I just like smaller things.” You explained, staring up at the dark sky, shivering slightly at the cool breeze.

“You didn’t have to come.” Johnny suddenly looked guilty, “I didn’t mean to force you into coming, I just... thought I’d invite you.”

You quickly backtracked, “No, you didn’t force me. If I didn’t want to come, I wouldn’t have.” You ignored the voice in the back of your head that begged to differ.

“Right.” He grinned, as if he could read your mind. “You’re not great at lying, but I’m gonna pretend that I believe you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“Were you playing beer pong?” You asked suddenly, causing him to look at you in confusion.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

You laughed, looking away from him, “You have quite the reputation Mr. Suh, even someone like me knows the extent of your skills.”

Johnny smirked, liking how easy you were making it for him. “Is that so? Is that the only skill of mine you’ve heard about?”

You raised your eyebrows, hating the turn that your mind took. “W-what kind of other skills did you have in mind?” You stuttered out.

Suddenly it felt like you were caged in, his arms tense around your frame, causing you to lean back against the back of the swing.

“Tell me what you’ve heard.” 

You averted your eyes, unable to take his heavy gaze. His eyes had turned dark, full of lust, and you tried desperately to forget the effect they were having on you.

As if sensing how uncomfortable you were getting, he backed off, dusting off some invisible dirt on his shoulder. He cocked his head to the side with a sly smile, happy with a new challenge. 

Things weren’t going to be as easy as he thought they were, but that’s what made it fun.

“No that’s so stupid. Are you kidding me? Robin could absolutely never beat Batman. Is that even a question?” Your hands were waving animately, far too much for an argument about fictional superheroes.

“Sure. I’m just saying that Robin could totally catch him off guard, like out of the blue, you know.” Johnny slurped on his drink shrugging his shoulders like he didn’t care. 

“No. Absolutely not. First of all Robin doesn’t have the guts to do something like that and second of all Robin doesn’t have any powers. How on Earth would he beat him?”

“Umm... Batman doesn’t have powers either.” He made a duh face at you, which you chose to ignore.

“Yeah, well he’s got money, and that’s basically a super power.”

“Let’s be real, Batman isn’t even really a real superhero. He’s just a hero. Period.” 

You huffed, rolling your eyes at the argument. “That’s a whole different story.”

“I’m just saying.” He sang back teasingly.

“And I’m just saying that this is stupid. How did we even get here?” You laughed, trying to remember how this conversation came about.

“Uh, you made the bold choice of saying that the Batman vs. Superman movie was shit. Very controversial by the way.” He frowned at the memory.

You let your bag fall heavily on the library table, earning you a few glares as studying students dug into their books.

You sent an apologetic look before sliding into your seat. “Let’s just get this presentation done. Our presentation date is the 23rd and I don’t even have a clue of what to write it on.”

“Well the topic is influencers that change your life. Do you have anyone in mind?”He asked, flipping through his notebook, which didn’t really have anything but drawings in them.

“Not really, is there anyone for you? I mean influencer is kind of vague isn’t it? We could pick like an athlete too, or a musician. Those are technically influencers right?”

He nodded, resting his chin on his hand. “Yeah. Influencers don’t even have to be famous do they? Like they can just be someone in your life that made a huge impact on you. Like your parents or something.”

“Yeah, I guess. But that’s kind of hard when you’re working in groups. Like you’re not gonna want to talk about my grandma, you know. Like you don’t even know her. It’s probably just easier to use a famous icon.”

“Okay, so who?” He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling like it would give him inspiration. 

“Hmmm... maybe we could do someone like Michael Jackson. Like he may not have affected us personally, but he affected the way that the music and performance was seen afterwards. That’s influential and life changing right?”

“I guess.” He cocked his head, “We could at least start with brainstorming ideas for him and then if we feel like it’s not working we can change it.”

“Cool. I guess we can start with that then.”

And you did. You spent every afternoon for the next week and half with each other in the library, and a little more outside of it.

“That one’s the big dipper.” 

You grinned following his finger, but had more difficulty finding exactly what he saw. 

“How do you know it’s not the little dipper?” You teased, squinting in to the dark, the scattered stars really just looking like paint splatters to you.

“Because that’s the little dipper.” He laughed, moving his index finger slightly to the right.

“Oh.” 

Johnny leaned back into your space, smiling at you look of concentration quickly falling as you gave up.

“Where’s the North Star?” You asked turning to face him, but sucking in a harsh breath when you found your nose just centimeters from his. 

Johnny lowered his voice, whispering and pointing without even turning away, “Right there, it’s the tail of the little dipper.”

It took more effort than you thought to pull away, eyes searching for it.

He leaned back, resting his body weight on his hands. “See it? It’s the brightest one.”

“No,” You pouted scooting forward, as if that would help you see it. “Oh, wait! I see it!”

Johnny couldn’t stop himself from grinning as he saw your face light up.

“Wow.” Suddenly your tone turned more mellow, still in awe. “I’ve always wanted to find the North Star.”

Johnny’s chest rumbled with laughter. “Why?”

“Well you know. They say if you get lost, just follow the North Star home.” You turned to face him, eyes sparkling with excitement, but the sound of your voice had gone quiet, almost somber. The smile on your face faded into a sad smile as you all but whispered your next words. “Now I can go home.”

Johnny frowned next to you, not liking the sudden turn in mood. He sat up, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you against his chest.

“What makes you think that you’re not home right now?” He mumbled on the top of your head, staring straight out in the dark.

“I don’t know. I can just feel it, you know? Like I’m just constantly uneasy.” You sighed, digging your face into his jacket. “I think I’ll be able to tell when I get there.”

There was something in Johnny’s chest that suddenly ached, and he felt a sharp drop in his stomach at the thought.

“Maybe you’ll only ever know once you’ve left home.” He muttered, “Then you’ll know that this is actually what it feels like, and it’s so much worse when you leave.”

You stilled against him for a moment before relaxing, mulling over the thought. “That’s so sad though. Why do we only know we’re happy once we’re sad?”

Johnny shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. Why does God make us hurt to only to help us heal?”

The sound of the wind passing through trees was the only thing that comforted you at the thought.

“I don’t want to have to heal, I don’t want to hurt in the first place.” You whisper out, feeling the most vulnerable you had in a long time.

“I’ll never hurt you.” He rubbed at your arms soothingly, feeling a lump in the back of his throat, but he pushed it away not liking the unfamiliar feeling.

“Promise?”

“Of course.”

You let your eyes fall, enjoying just the silence and comfort of each other’s arms and minds.

You woke up wrapped in Johnny’s arms, although it was an unfamiliar feeling you welcomed it with open arms. 

Lost in your thoughts for the time being you were suddenly reminded of the conversation you had a couple nights ago. 

Was this home?

You had never felt so safe before and it scared you. But you weren’t one to run.

“Good morning.” Johnny mumbled out beside you, his morning voice raspy to the ear.

“Morning.” You whispered back, letting his arm flop over your waist.

“Do you like pancakes?” He asked, letting his eyes fall close again.

“Pancakes?” 

“Yeah. Taeyong makes some bomb ass pancakes.” 

You giggled, “Yeah, I like pancakes. Especially bomb ass pancakes.”

But he didn’t move and it was only after you tapped him questioningly did he speak up. “Do you think he’ll bring them up if I yell loud enough?”

You smacked his chest. “Stop it. We should go down.”

“In a bit.” He answered, nose buried deep in the crevice of your neck.

A few minutes later you heard the clinking of kitchen tools from downstairs and you stirred. “Johnny?”

“Hmmm...”

“Johnny. Let’s go.”

“Five more minutes.” He mumbled, but he let you out of his grasp anyways.  

“Fine. I’ll meet you downstairs.” You paused as you passed by the mirror, eyes tracing over the marks on your neck that Johnny had left the night before. You blushed, realizing that you didn’t have anything to cover it up with, but quickly moved on, attempting to find your shorts that were discarded in the frenzy of last night.

“Check under the desk.” Johnny said, sitting up and watching you.

Sure enough that’s where they were, although you weren’t really sure how they managed to get there. 

You shrugged on the last of your clothes, turning to find Johnny doing the same. It took him less than three steps to get to you, landing a soft kiss on the top of your head. 

“Let’s go.”

Taeyong was undoubtedly the closest of Johnny’s frat brothers to you. He had this really calming and sweet aura about him that just made you want to be friends. 

“Good morning Y/N. Blueberry or chocolate?” He asked grinning as he took his eyes off the pan for a second. 

“Blueberry please.” You slid onto the bar across from him. “Do you need any help?”

Johnny rubbed your lower back comfortingly, “No, you don’t want to get in his way. That’s when he loses his temper.” He whispered the last bit to you, but Taeyong obviously heard it, sending a sharp glare at him.

“Only when there are incompetent people in my kitchen.” Taeyong muttered back.

Johnny ignored the comment, shaking his head at you, “I’ll have chocolate.”

“You’ll get what you get.” Taeyong piped at him, still not over Johnny’s teasing, who grinned in response. 

Both of them knew that Johnny was getting chocolate, Taeyong was really bad at being mean.

“Where’s the others?” Johnny asked, sipping on a cup of coffee.

“At school, as they should be because they are college students.” Taeyong answered, sliding a plate towards you. “Enjoy.”

You thanked him and bit into a piece, almost moaning at the taste. “Damn, Johnny told me they were good but I didn’t think it would be this good.”

Johnny swiped a piece from your plate. “What are you talking about? I told you he made bomb ass pancakes.” 

Taeyong slid a plate towards Johnny.

His grin widened. “Thank you. You’re my favorite Taeyong ever.”

“I’m the only Taeyong you know.” He put his hands on his hips. “I should be the favorite.”

Johnny sent a wink in his direction before stabbing a piece. 

“So I was thinking, that little bakery next to the park, do you wanna go? They just opened and I’ve been dying to try it.” Johnny asked around a mouthful of pancake.

“Yeah, sure. That sounds good.” You felt your stomach flutter, you were sure whether it was the pancakes or Johnny, but you had a pretty good guess. 

“Sweet, we can swing by your place first if you want to get a change of clothes or something.” 

You nodded, “Yeah, sounds good.”

“I’m glad that sounds good.” He teased you with a smile.

“Sorry, but it just sounds good. What else do you want me to say?” You pushed back, opting to add another piece into your mouth.

“I don’t know, maybe-”

“Okay, sorry to interrupt your little flirt fest, but can you start that after I leave?” Taeyong asked, making a few pancakes for himself.

“Sorry.” You giggled, sending him a genuine apologetic look.

“I’m not sorry.” Johnny said, shrugging.

You smacked him lightly.

“I’ll take away pancake privileges for a month.” Taeyong quipped, focusing on flipping the pancake.

“Sorry.” Johnny mumbled out under his breath, not one to admit defeat easily.

You laughed at the sight of a pouty Johnny, enjoying the view for the time being.

Waiting for Johnny had become a routine, but honestly you didn’t really mind it. Hanging out on the couch, you had met and befriended quite a few of his frat brothers. 

Currently you were sprawled out on the couch with Jungwoo, who was retelling a very interesting story about his trip to the grocery store last week that involved a cereal box and a banana. Although it was a bit of a reach, you nodded and smiled at the right times, not really following the order of events, or really the importance of them.

“What does the fact that you were wearing- and I quote - ‘an incredibly sick pair of joggers’ have anything to do with your story?” You asked, tilting your head in teasing confusion.

“Oh, it doesn’t. I just thought you should know.” He replied matter-of-factly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Right. And I’m so better off now that I know.” You taunted him, voice dripping in sarcasm.

Jungwoo shot you an annoyed, and yet hurt look, before finishing his story. “And that’s how Johnny found out he was allergic to shellfish.”

“Okay. What the fuck? I’m literally so confused.” You cut him off before he could recount his story again. “I don’t really need to hear it again though. Thanks.”

He whined before laying his legs over yours, giving up.

For a few moments, things were quiet as you checked the time. It had already been thirty minutes, where was he?

You rolled your head to the side, finally focusing on the whiteboard that had what scribbles of writing over it. 

“What’s the tally for?” You asked, scrunching your nose at the whiteboard that was situated on the far wall of the room.

“Hmmm? The tally?” Jungwoo glanced around looking slightly nervous which had you even more curious. “It’s just a game.”

“Game? What game?” You laughed turning back to see the strikes adorning the board. “It looks like Johnny’s winning.”

“Uhh...” Again with the nervous glances.

You giggled, “You’re losing, aren’t you?” The spot under his name had the fewest tallies and you figured that’s why he was being so shy about it.

Jaehyun entered the room, seemingly in a very important conversation by the way that he was speaking animatedly.

“The game’s over on Friday and Johnny’s gonna win.” 

“That’s so stupid. He hasn’t bagged any since Y/N, how is he still gonna win?” Yuta complained all but scowling at the floor, neither of them had yet to notice your presence.

You frowned at the mention of your name, not liking the term ‘bagging’ to be in such close proximity with your name.

“Oh, Mark has a new strike, looks like he finally got Claire into bed.” Yuta continued snorting, “Took him long enough.”

“Wait, what the fuck? How the hell did Taeyong get two strikes?” Jaehyun, squinted at the board.

Yuta snorted, “He had a threesome last night. Can you believe it? This close to the end? It’s like he’s actually trying to compete now.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You muttered, effectively catching their attention.

“Y/N.” Jaehyun breathed out, eyes wide and darting between you and Jungwoo who was obviously trying to get them to stop talking. “Hey... what’s up? When did you get here?”

“Ummm.... no. What the fuck is going on?”

“What do you mean?” Jaehyun cocked his head, doing his best to pretend like he wasn’t panicking.

“No, I don’t want your bullshit. Just tell me what this game is.” You were using anger to hide your fear. You could feel the pounding of your heart in your head, a throbbing sensation that gave way to a sinking feeling of realization. 

At that moment, when his eyes finally met yours. Not Jaehyun’s, not Yuta’s, but Johnny’s as he walked in the room with that fucking stupid smile you felt your last will got out the window. It was at that moment that everything came crashing down. 

“Y/N, please can’t we just talk?” Johnny chased after you, begging you to turn around.

“You promised.”

Johnny’s heart dropped at your words, and his chest started closing in in fear. The burning feeling in his throat had him choking, panicking in belated realization.

It wasn’t just the words that you said, it was the way that you said it. So defeated, so broken. So betrayed.

“You promised that you wouldn’t hurt me. Do you remember that? Did you even mean that?” You felt the tears brimming, and you fought the best you could to keep them down. But your wobbling voice let him know.

“Of course I meant it.” He answered breathlessly. “You know me, I don’t say things that I don’t mean.”

“Do I? Do I know you?” You huffed out. “Because I really thought you were someone different.”

“No, I- I’m still me. I’m still Johnny. I just...”

“You just what? You just lied about our entire relationship? If it was even that, because I was just another tally to you wasn’t I? Just another tally on a stupid whiteboard for a stupid game.” 

You choked back the tears that were burning in your throat, not bothering to wipe at the ones that managed to escape.

“You know what hurts the most? I actually thought you liked me. I actually thought that you meant all those things that you said to me.”

“I did mean it. I meant every single word, and I still do. Nothing was a lie, my feelings were real. Please just listen to me, I can explain.” He stepped closer, but you took a step back, keeping the distance.

“Explain what? I already heard everything for myself. What are you gonna say, that Jaehyun and Yuta were lying? Hmmm? That it wasn’t a game? That that’s not the reason that you approached me?”

“I...” He couldn’t find any words, because you were right. Every single word that you said was right. He struggled to catch his breath, panicking. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t leave.”

“I love you. I need you. I can’t- I can’t imagine life without you.”

“That’s not enough.” You clenched your jaw, face going slack. It was as if you were losing the will to even be heartbroken over this.

“Please, I-I’ll do anything, what do you want me to do?” He begged, eye brows nearly touching as they furrowed.

“I don’t want anything from you, just stay away from me.” You mumbled out, avoiding his eyes.

“Baby, please.”

“Don’t fucking call me that, I’m not yours, I never was.” You snapped at him, backing away.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled under his breath and he wasn’t sure if it was meant for you or himself.

“So I’m kinda going rogue here. I know you already hate me, but try not to hate me anymore than you already do.”

Johnny didn’t look anywhere except for you.

The professor seemed to humor him, allowing one of his favorite students to continue with an amused smile on his face.

You on the other hand did not. 

You stared at Johnny with a straight face, trying your best to not look flustered.

“The whole point of this assignment was to find someone that changed our lives. But my partner and I struggled to find someone. It’s not that we didn’t have great people around us, its not even that we don’t have people that we admired. It was because no one we came up with really seemed genuine to us. But I found someone. I finally found someone that I could trust, that I let in. But I did something really stupid and fucked it up- excuse my language.”

You watched him stand behind the podium, looking smaller than he ever did.

“You know, before I met you I didn’t think that my life needed changing. I thought I was doing just fine. But then I realized that I wasn’t. I was struggling to even feel normal, to feel like I was living for something. Y/N you helped me find home. Remember when I said that you only understand that you were already home until you lose it? Well I feel it now. And it feels like shit.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, a feeling in the back of your throat burning.

“Y/N. You’re the person who changed my life. And I don’t even deserve that. But I’m here, standing in front of you like a fool because I’m whining about losing the best thing that ever happened to me.” 

For a moment you thought he was done, because the silence was deafening.

“Even if you sill hate me after this, I want you to know that you mean more to me than anything else. You are the person that changed my life. You are my person, and I want so badly to be yours.”

There was a beat of silence as he ended abruptly, taking a seat on the other side of the room, eyes still locked on you.

Your professor stood up with a clap. “Well, thank you Johnny for that... interesting presentation.” A wide smile was still on his face despite his word choice. “I guess we should end on that then. Second batch of presentations is on Friday, please be prepared.”

The students of your class stood, shuffling out the exit, voices murmuring to each other. 

You sat on the bench outside your lecture hall, watching as Johnny made his way nervously to you.

“You’re an idiot.” You told him as he approached you, bottom lip wobbling against your will. Eventually you broke. “But you’re my idiot.”

Johnny felt a drop of relief in his stomach as he felt like his heart would burst.

“You’ve totally botched our presentation by the way. If we fail it it’s on you.” You shoved him away teasingly.

Johnny grinned, throwing his arm over your shoulder. 

“Yeah? Well, I think we did better than you think. I think that things are gonna turn out just fine.”

(sorry, i was supposed to write a full angst, but i couldn’t help myself.)

© Copyright 2021. hyuckssunchip. All rights reserved.

[berriusagi]

Stomach Bug Ch4

Afternoon Date

It has been a minute, hasn’t it? Sorry for making you guys wait for the next chapter I hope you like this one too. Love the support and the kind comments.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Marinette and Damian were lucky when it came to their schedules as their classes ended roughly around the same time; making it easier for them to plan their dates during the week so they could get as much time together as possible. The following days after the announcement at Wayne manor the teens spent as much time around each other as they could. Though they did have to sneak around the family for privacy and keep a low profile to not raise any suspicion from the media.

The perks of having a well-known designer as your significant other made it incredibly easy for them to be able to hide in plain sight. Only proven by the fact both were sitting in a small coffee shop enjoying some pastries and hot chocolate as everyone around them was none the wiser of just who was in their presence.

“I’ll never understand how you do it.” Damian chuckled softly as he sipped on his drink looking around the coffee shop as Marinette just giggled.

“You have a very specific style. It's how people pick you out, change the style and they’ll be none the wiser.” she smiled before leaning in to whisper, “average people aren’t that perceptive that’s how heroes like Superman and the Green Arrow can blend in so easily outside of the costume. They don’t see faces, they see the clothing or anything ‘off’ about them.”

“Makes sense,” he nodded relaxing back in the booth wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she settled in sipping on her hot chocolate, “Is that how you figured me out so quickly? You looked at the face, not the clothes?” he hummed rubbing her arm.

“Actually for the first three months all I did was look at the clothes because they are an affront to fashion.” she giggled, “I get that its tradition but did it have to be so garish? Did you have to use the brightest colors for the darkest and gothic city in America? It’s like you want to get shot,” she said rolling her eyes.

“I think it had more to do with Batman wanting to keep track of a small child in dark alleyways, bright colors stand out more.” Damian chuckled.

Marinette hummed seeming to accept that answer as she finished her pastry and hot chocolate. They fell into a comfortable silence just enjoying each other’s company cuddling together. “It’s getting close to the holidays. Is there anything you or your family want?” she asked.

Damian thought about it for a moment trying to think of anything his family mentioned wanting in the past few weeks. “Hmm, I remember Todd saying something about his leather jacket getting too worn, I think Drake could use a new sweater too. It's looking a bit threadbare. Grayson hasn’t complained about anything specific and since he doesn’t live in the Manor I can’t exactly look through all his clothes. Father and Pennyworth I’m not too sure on.” he said after a long stretch of silence.

“What about you? Anything special you want?” she smiled looking up at him.

“I’ll be happy with whatever it is you choose to give me.” he smiled leaning down to kiss her gently on the forehead, “You’re already giving me the best present,” he added, placing a gentle hand over her belly.

Marinette giggled a soft blush settling across her cheeks; “I would have never pegged you as a sappy dad.” she smiled holding his hand over her belly, “It’s so unlike you.”

He shrugged a soft pink dusting his face, “I’m just excited.” he mumbled.

She smiled softly leaning up to kiss his cheek, “I know you are, how about we head out and can go window shopping at a few stores to get an idea of what all we’ll need.”

“That sounds like a great idea.” he nodded, getting out of the booth taking her hand to help her stand. Once she was on her feet he wrapped an arm loosely around her waist and guided her out of the shop and onto the busy street. They steered clear of any overpopulated areas not wanting to risk anyone recognizing Damian, as well as any alleyways not wanting to mugged or jumped.

They took their time making their way to the shopping district talking quietly to each other about their plans for the following weeks. Marinette was slowly losing her mind with her commissions that seemed to get more and more complicated with less and less time between each to finish. Damian was adamant to claim his brothers were driving him up the wall now that they knew about Marinette making his desire to stab them all that stronger. Though he’d never admit he liked that his family welcomed Marinette so readily.

“What are you hoping for?” Marinette asked as they looked in the shop window at some baby clothes. There were an array of items from over the top frilly dresses full of ruffles and lace to make it obvious to anyone that the child wearing it was meant to be a little princess. While on the other side were little onesies with cheesy sayings and cute art printed on them causing the people passing by to coo and laugh at the phrases pointing them out to their friends and partners.

“A healthy child,” Damian said, hugging her gently to his side, “I don’t care about the gender so long as they are healthy and I have you by my side,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her gently on her cheek.

Marinette blushed though and was smiling brightly as she buried her face into his chest breathing deeply as she soaked up all the warmth and love he was showering her in. “I feel the same,” she mumbled before pulling him away from the clothing store to head into a shop to look at other supplies and furniture they’d need.

They lost hours in the department store as they looked over different strollers, beds, changing tables, anything and everything marketed for a baby. They took their time looking it over and comparing the items until they had a solid idea of just what it was they needed. “I want everything to be neutral in color,” she mumbled as they were looking at some toys.

“Hm?” Damian asked, holding up a green rabbit plush testing how soft it was.

“I don’t want anything too gender-specific you know I don’t want everything pink, as much as I love the color or blue. I think it should be a neutral color or a variety of colors so we’re not forcing our kid in just one color.” She said picking up some blankets gently running her fingers over the soft fleece.

“We could always get everything in robin colors.” Damian joked.

“I will divorce you.” Marinette deadpanned looking up at him.

“Ouch okay no robin colors.” he chuckled, setting the toy rabbit down and hugged her, “we have plenty of time to decide on the colors, but I do agree we won’t use pink or blue it’s been overdone quite a bit.” he nodded.

She nodded as they left the baby aisle and started to head towards the front. Once they were back out on the street the sky was beginning to darken quite a bit. “It’s getting late. I should head home and pack, Mum said she’d bring me by the manor after dinner.”

“I’ll walk you home and make sure the room Pennyworth set up is suitable for you.” he nodded guiding her down the street. “Will you be bringing any of your projects along?” he asked as he helped her cross the street.

“I’ll probably bring the quilt I’m working on and the jacket Uncle Jagged commissioned.” she hummed as they made their way towards her apartment. “I’m almost done with the jacket and I want to get a few more squares done on the quilt before Monday,” she added.

He nodded as they fell into a comfortable silence and continued to walk, keeping close to each other so as not to get separated in the crowds. Once they reached Marinette’s apartment building she pulled away and smiled up at Damian, “I’ll see you after dinner have a safe trip home.” she said getting up on her tippy toes to kiss him.

“You have a nice dinner and pack some warm pajamas. The manor can get a bit drafty at night,” he warned, kissing her back. He smiled and waited until she was inside the building and in the elevator to take her to her floor before he turned on his heels and began to head home.

He was only able to pass a few blocks before ducking into an alleyway and crossed his arms waiting as someone landed behind him. “Really? You tailed us the whole time we were out?” he deadpanned turning to face Nightwing.

Nightwing just crossed his arms looking away with a slight pout, “I just wanted to make sure she was okay.” he said, “you were walking around in broad daylight anyone could have seen you two.”

“You’re lucky she didn’t notice you, how would I have explained why a vigilante was following us? When the sun is up leave us alone if she’s out after dark feel free to tail her if she’s not with me.” he said glaring at him, “She doesn’t need the added stress and doesn’t need to be looking over her shoulder every few blocks because she saw someone following her.”

Nightwing sighed rolling his head, “Fine I won’t but I can’t say anything for the others.” he said before sending up a grapple and whisking himself away.

Damian sighed, rubbing his temples, “They’re going to scare her off I just know it.” he muttered heading out of the alleyway and continued his trek home.

~.~.~.~

“Marigold are you ready?” Ivy asked after cleaning up the kitchen from their dinner. She knocked on the door before opening it slowly as she peered in to see Marinette attempting to shove her sewing machine into her bag. “Marigold I think the sewing machine can stay here.” she chuckled walking in grabbing the machine from her hands and set it back on the table.

“I have projects I need to finish though.” Marinette groaned looking at the fabric squares for the quilt and jacket she had packed in another bag.

“You and I both know all that’s left for the jacket is minor touch-ups. You can hand sew it and you’d been hand sewing that quilt all week so you don’t need the machine.” Ivy said leaning on the desk, “Besides you’re going to be with the Wayne’s for the weekend instead of working on your projects why don’t you take a break and get to know them?”

“I just want to finish Uncle Jagged’s jacket. I already closed down the site and won’t be reopening it until new years. I’ll take a break when all my projects are done and have been shipped out.” she said trying to get around Ivy to get the sewing machine.

“Marigold I said no sewing machine.” Ivy said blocking her, “you shouldn’t be carrying it back and forth anyways. I’m sure you just mentioned in passing you needed a sewing machine while in that manor you’ll have one before the end of the day.”

“Mum! That would be manipulative!” Marinette gasped appalled at her mother’s suggestion.

Ivy sighed, gently taking hold of Marinette’s face and leaned down to be eye level with her, “it’s not manipulative. You could just ask Bruce or Damian if they had one if not and you don’t want to use their money then convince Damian to join you to buy yourself a sewing machine that can stay at the manor.” She said gently, kissing her forehead.

Marinette pouted, bowing her head, “so no sewing machine?” she said eyeing the trusty machine she brought from Paris when she moved.

“‘Fraid, not kiddo now finish packing up Harls will be back from walking Bud and Lou any moment then we’re heading over to the manor to drop you off.” Ivy chuckled patting her back as she left the room to let Marinette finish packing for the weekend.

~.~.~.~

The Wayne Manor was in a state of chaos as the occupants prepared for the arrival of their weekend guest. Bruce watched on with a type of exhausted fondness that only a single parent possesses as they watch their children make complete fools of themselves. Beside him was Tim his second youngest who was nursing yet another large mug of coffee the bags under his eyes deeper and darker than the waters of the Mariana Trench. “At least they’re excited?” Bruce muttered watching on as Jason and Dick continued to argue about what they’d learned about Marinette in the last week through means of tailing her and digging up her past.

“They’re going to scare her off.” Damian deadpanned standing beside Bruce on the other side of him watching the two eldest argue looking as if they were going to physically fight.

“No offense but if she didn’t run for the hills after meeting you I think she’ll be able to handle them.” Tim yawned as he took a long drink from his coffee as there was a soft knocking at the door.

Alfred easily walked past the fighting siblings and went right for the front door opening it to reveal the Isley-Quinzels, “Pleasure to see you again Miss. Marinette.” Alfred nodded stepping aside to allow her to enter carrying with her two large bags.

“Sorry to intrude,” Marinette said as Damian rushed overtaking one of her bags off her arm.

“Nonsense you’re always welcome here.” Alfred smiled and looked at the two women, “would you like to come in?”

“Nah we got plans we’ll be back Sunday to pick you up, Marigold.” Harley smiled hugging Marinette, giving her a big kiss on her cheek as Ivy stepped in to give her a kiss and hug goodbye.

“Try to relax this weekend,” Ivy said patting her back, “You lot treat her well or I’ll make you into fertilizer.”

“She’s in good hands Ivy you two have a nice weekend,” Bruce said, nodding his head to the women. Harley and Ivy nodded and blew Marinette a few more kisses before they made their leave after Alfred closed the door.

“I’ll show you to your room Habibti,” Damian said, taking her bags and making a point to ignore his family watching him as he guided Marinette away and up the stairs to the room Alfred prepared for her.

Once they were out of earshot of the rest of the family Marinette looked up at Damian with a raised eyebrow, “You’re not putting me in the room Alfred prepared are you?” she asked following him.

“No, you’ll be in my room so I can keep an eye on you.” He said leaning down to kiss her as he pushed open his bedroom door and carried her bags in. “You need to sleep a reasonable amount and I know you sleep better when you’re warm and this way I can make sure you’re warm.”

“Just say you want to cuddle.” Marinette giggled sitting on his bed as he went about putting her clothes away and setting her sewing projects on his desk. She smiled watching him move with such familiarity as if this was a daily occurrence for them. As she relaxed on the bed a comforting weight settled across her lap. Looking down she saw a tuxedo cat lounging across her legs purring loudly and quite content.

Marinette smiled reaching down and gently started to run her fingers through the fur, “You must be Alfred.” She smiled gently scratching behind the cat's ears. She was so occupied with petting the cat on her lap she barely noticed the weight of another animal climbing onto the bed and curled up behind her. She turned and looked smiling at the large Great Dane she leaned back resting her head on the dog’s side reaching up and started petting him with her free hand, “You must be Titus.” She giggled as Alfred the Cat crawled up to rest on her chest.

Marinette was content to relax on the bed cuddling with the animals when she felt another weight settle on her lap and looked down to see a turkey perched on her legs watching her. “Hello, Jerry.” She giggled, stopping her petting of the cat and dog to reach down and begin gently stroking the turkey’s feathers. She alternated between the three animals trying not to make any feel left out as she pet them soon dozing off from all the warmth and comfort the animals provided.

Damian found her passed out on his bed, one hand resting on Jerry’s back and the other reaching back to scratch Titus’ ears. He huffed out a soft laugh looking over the scene before pulling his phone out quickly taking a picture before shooing Jerry and Alfred off her so he could get her in bed and into a more comfortable position. “Good job everyone,” he whispered to his pets as he took her boots off and gently took her hair out of her pigtails before tucking her into bed.

Once she was comfortably curled up under the blankets he pulled back and laid out some pajamas on the nightstand closest to Marinette in case she woke up long enough to change and set about getting into his pajamas and turned off all the lights before climbing into bed and pulled her to his chest relaxing back. “Good night habibti.” He mumbled, kissing her forehead.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

@myazael @beautiful-disasters-sunshine @moonlightstar64 @moonlitceleste @stainedglassm  @casual-darkness @mochegato @ultimatetornshipper @heemsanddamemes @nathleigh @qualitypeacepainter @raven-frost-21 @maskedpainter @demonicbusiness @dood-space @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @indecisive-mess-named-me @changelinggarden @zerotosiki @alysrose-starchild @s-and-n @wolf2118 @athena452 @jjmjjktth

[htmlerror]

☕ + wfa

i do not like wfa with ham, i do not like it, sam i am.

I have a lot of problems with Wayne Family Adventures. The idea for it is solid enough, but the execution is. bad. I've put my thoughts below the cut because this got long, so I hope you don't mind me going in depth on my feelings.

Duke Thomas as a POV character - I'm plagerizing heavily from my convo with @phamtai about this. Def check them out for more info and better insights than mine into the character. Duke is extremely well established in canon despite only having been around for a decade or so. Remarkably, it's taken until WFA to butcher his character. Duke in this series is too polite. He's too clueless. He's been presented as the Relatable Kid archetype that he doesn't fit. In canon, Duke has never not been self-assured. He's a relatable character, yes, but not because he doesn't know what's going on. He has experience as a hero long before the batfam became involved. And since then, he's bonded with them. WFA doesn't show his connection with Cass, his dynamic with Bruce or Jason, and completely ignores his conflicts with the family. In a supposedly family-focused product, those are damn near cardinal sins. He may as well be a totally new character. Duke has been watered down so much for the sake of this series. WFA could be a vessel to explore so many things about him that we don't see a lot of on the regular page. We could see a dive into the parallels between him and Bruce, the full psychological impact of losing his parents, epecially in contrast to Jason, how his world view and morals differ from Batman's, the daily consequences of his powers, or the fallout of his mourning independently for the friends he's lost. But those would be interesting angles WFA doesn't seem eager to explore. If you can't imagine a version Duke punching a cop just because they're a fucking cop, you're doing it wrong. Another issue is, unfortunately, Duke's role as the only Black batman member. I shouldn't need to explain why it's problematic to be showing his as constantly less knowledgeable and presumably skilled as the other bats. (No, it doesn't matter that Dick and Damian are drawn with dark skin. Dick has been written as a white man for nearly his entire existence. The person who retconned that is notoriously racist and has spent years defending her inclusion of sexual assault in her writing. I have no issue with Dick being Romani, but just changing the color of his skin is not the way to do it.) DC has recently had a push towards inclusion, on the page an behind the scenes. This is good, of course. Though if they really are committed to representation and inclusion, it needs to be an effort seen across the board. Faux pas like this paint a pretty obvious picture.

The Webtoon format is shit - Webtoon is a great platform for indie writers and artists. It's not my style of content, but I get the appeal. IMO, it's ridiculous to accept a professional comic publisher shitting out 12 page fluff pieces. Yes, the weekly comic format has been phased out for a reason. Yes, halving the workload is a possible way around that restriction. But there just isn't a good enough reason to do it. It's a pretty obvious ploy to seem "hip" and "get in with kids these days." It's lazy and frankly kind of embarrassing. For anyone who doesn't know, a standard comic book is usually 24-28 pages. This isn't an arbitrary number, it's part of the format for the art form. That length allows for necessary plot developments in a serial story line while also giving the characters, themes, and artwork time to breathe. Furthermore, it's what most comic readers have come to expect over the decades. Halving that wouldn't necessarily be a problem, there are plenty of examples of well made shorts out there, but coupling that WFA's love affair with single panels and splash pages is a major issue. Say you make a 12 page comic with 4-6 panels per page. You have 48-72 panels to work with. You can sit a compelling story into that, with or without heavy dialogue. But bring that down to 12-24 panels, and you have one of two options: either 1) ultra-compress your narrative or 2) reduce the plot to compensate. Ignoring the formatting choices, WFA is a convenient reason for DC to keep the worst of the status quo in the bat titles. There's no need to acknowledge criticism of Bruce's treatment of his family when they can simply point and say "Jason's throat hasn't been sliced open here! And look, Damian hasn't been left with the crushing guilt of his grandfather's death! We even let Tim exist as his own character!" WFA doesn't change anything, it shows that DC is aware of its problems but would rather outsource them than put in the work to fix it. There's a special kind of rejected feeling that comes with being told "I hear you, I just don't care.

Fandom isn't bad, but - Everyone is familiar with the incorrect quotes format by now. Sometimes they're funny, most of the time they tend to over-saturate. WFA is like if a incorrect batfam quotes blog was a comic. It's a steady supply of one-liners and references, sure, but it lacks any real substance. If that's what you like, I can't fault you for it, but it's not going to be everyone's cup of tea. The way the batfandom has piled onto the "this is the best thing ever" bandwagon is concerning to me. There has been good batfam content in canon, you just need to know where to look for it. The lack of critical analysis of the project and dismissal of critiques is always an alarming pattern, but the way WFA has come to be the odd face of the fandom is just bizarre. It's everywhere, as you know if you've ever tried avoiding it. Thinking about WFA being the default interpretation of these characters makes me nervous. They lack the depth their canon counterparts. I don't care if you enjoy WFA, I do understand the appeal of it, but for the love of the gods, take it down from it's pedestal.

WFA is... fine. It's yet to commit any sins too egregious, but, like all DC properties, it's a ticking timebomb. I won't be surprised when it goes off, and I can't say I'll be sad to see it go. Ao3 has better content, anyway

[jimmythejiver]

For the first time in a long time I went to the movies in forever and then to Target. At Target I see some Godiva bars on discount yellow tags and I was ecstatic until I read 70% Cacao, Dark, Salted Caramel and was deflated.

Anyway that's how I felt about seeing The Green Knight. What you thought this was about chocolate?

No see since the pandemic I've been back on my perennial King Arthur kick. I've for a long time since I was a young preteen thought, someday I too will write my own King Arthur epic and it'll be gay, magical, gangster and culty too, but for now I'll make up my own stories for practice and then with every story I got attached too, it got too involved and convoluted to the point that when it came down to actually writing a novel, I threw it all away and made a space opera I only planned in two weeks and wrote in a month. Anyway...so now I've been writing this very gay, magical, gangster and culty take on Final Fantasy XV with my boyfriend and just fell in love with Somnus Lucis Caelum who nobody has any insight about him than to make him the Mordred to Ardyn's Arthur, which is a strange flex, but okay, I thought about what if I wrote a Dark Age prequel about Ardyn and Somnus, but Ardyn becomes king and Somnus his shogun and they play games of seduction and power because I'm twisted like that. Anyway...I was like I'm never going to write this and I have to keep making up characters based on FFXV characters and King Arthur tropes because there's not a lot of stories that take place during the Dark Ages, it's always some Roman Empire story, or High Middle Ages and FFXV gave no room for either society to happen after the fall of Solheim and the rise of King Somnus...so we left with Dark Ages, y'all, the King Arthur comparisons are obvious, but Ardyn is no Arthur and Somnus is no Mordred, Aera is only Guenevere if you make up an affair with Somnus, Gilgamesh is no Bedwyr/Bedivere, but uh...they both amputees and the oldest companions to their respective kings so...I guess. Anyway making an ancestor of Cor Leonis and deciding well he's Owain/Yvain, or am Ignis type as idk Sir Cai/Kay I guess, they both cook, but Cai's more like Seifer Almasy than any FF character... Anyway I'm losing people.

My plan was to just scrap the FFXV prequel, leave my Somnus ideas into Overtime (a gangster and gods story) and just plan an actual King Arthur adaptation. I'd have King Arthur the treasure hunter, leader of a warband turned founder of Camelot who fights giants, giant cats and dogheads, but also fights King Claudas of the Franks and King Aelle of the Saxons and Cerdic a Briton who puts in his lot with the Saxons, etc. It'd been a a glorified turf war, meanwhile Arthur's gotta make alliances with King Pelles, The Fisher King and his strange cult he's founded because, why yes I find the ends justifies the means prophecy of the Holy Grail Quest very culty because Christianity then does not resemble it now. Meanwhile you got the secondary plots of Mordred, Gawain, Lancelot, Percival, Tristam and other's going on because they matter and too many modern King Arthur stories sideline the knights.

So many have always sidelined Mordred as a final boss eldritch abomination in mortal flesh conceived of sin and give him no personality, or complex motives, or even just a relationship with Arthur. I also have noticed the general sidelining of Lancelot, or give him a chad villain upgrade if you must include him at all, and the villainizing of Gawain to the point that you don't even have to have Mordred, or Agravain as a catalyst shit stirrer in court, just slap Gawain's name on Liam Neeson in a top knot and you're good. Mordred can just be a child offscreen until last act...fuck that, while Morgan Le Fay can either be a villainess plotting her cabal through men, or a well-intentioned, ineffectual idiot. Fuck that.

Now Hollywood just be doing King Arthur first acts that suck ass, only for said director to get rewarded failing upwards by giving this same jerk the Aladdin remake. The tonally shitty, crammed in blockbuster mess of a cliche heroe's journey that sucks.

With that background I was excited for The Green Knight. I read an illustrative version as a kid, I read Tolkien's translation as a teenager, I read Simon Armitage's superior, but with liberties taken translation. I was prepped to go knowing that indie, or not they were going to make changes to weave the disjointed poem together. I'm excited that because this movie exists Project Guternberg's finally thrown Jessie Weston's prose rendition up on their website. I'll be reading that at some point when this blows over.

The movie adaptation makes a lot of...choices, many I wouldn't love, but would forgive had their been a payoff. There was none.

The journey was fine, the cinematography was a breath of fresh air after crappy slo mo, glossy action scenes ruined another. Guys, I don't think I want to see a Zack Snyder Excalibur, it'll marginally be better than Guy Ritchie, but that ain't saying anything. Leave Excalibur to the post-Star Wars 80s where it is impeccable for it's time. I liked Green Knight's breathable pacing, it's color palette's in the forests and mountains made up for the muddy grey of every Ridley Scott send up in the castles and villages in every other Dark Ages/Medieval story in the last I don’t know since the shitty 00′s. For all the dark tones when there was blues, greens, yellows or reds, they were vibrant in this movie to contrast the gloom of Britain. The soundtrack was good. This isn't all what makes a movie, but it enhances it so let's get to the story and what I did and didn't like.

Things I Liked: Gawain is still a novice in his career The Costume Dressing Everyone pronounces Gawain's name different. I pronounce it like Gwayne, or Guh Wayne, but here you got Gowen (like Owen), Gowan (like Rowan), or even Garlon who I'm pretty sure is the Fisher King's heir in some versions of that Arthurian story, so uh... The reference to Arthur slaying 960 men with his bare hands (Nennius for the win!) The Waste Land that is implied to be a site of a battle (an important aspect of the Arthurian landscape) The Fox companion No long grisly, drawn out hunting scenes. The Fox lives! No misogynist speeches

Things I'm Mixed: This being a dream, is the magic real? Are the giants? Is the Green Knight a figment of Gawain's imagination from a spell Morgan casted in him to hallucinate? Is Lord and Lady also figments? It's...a way to interpret the poem, but lazy and I don't see why it's got to all fantasy, or all dream...this movie makes it too vague you're stuck picking one camp than to accept it's a fantasy with dream and hallucinatory sequences.

Things I'm Meh: Morgan Le Fay as Gawain's mom. Look I fucking hate Morgause as a character and these two get merged and steal each other's aspects so much at this point the difference is who did they marry, King Urien or King Lot? Both are attributed to being Mordred's mom, Mordred is Gawain's brother...both practice magic depending on certain incarnations, both love and hate Arthur their brother and are in conflict with him. Saint Winifred. I actually liked this sequence, but I don't appreciate her as the tacked on wife in the later dream sequence as like...a contrast between the wife you should marry than the whore next door you don't respect anyway? I don't even know what lesson I'm supposed to get out of the damn dream sequence, or any of it? That Gawain should've married his girlfriend and then he'd be a just ruler? That he shouldn't be king? That he'd never have to make the same heartless, impartial choices? I don't know, he seemed like a king doing king shit because guess what? It never gets easier. Wars will be waged. The world didn't become better because he married the right woman, respected her and lived in obscurity. The world didn't become better because he made her his queen. We certainly don't know the world would be better Gawain had his head chopped off and dead XP They never reveal the Lord and the Green Knight as one and the same because of this shit.

Things I Hated: Arthur withdraws from the challenge because he's old. In poem he takes it on and Gawain takes it so he don't have to and he finds himself more disposable than the king. Gawain only takes the challenge because of arrogance. Arthur and Gawain had no prior personal relationship. I'd not have hated this so much if it wasn't compounded by it cancelling out the first two things. Gawain is portrayed as having no respect for his woman, or any woman, maybe his mother? He has to be pushed by Winifred to regain her head. Gawain is portrayed as arrogant, covetous and ready to pass the buck, or the bare minimum than have any honor or decency. It didn't matter the kid in the wasteland was shithead bandit, the way Gawain acted towards him, when he gets robbed, it almost feels like he deserved it and Gawain doesn't learn a damn lesson. I'll admit him taking the sword to cut his ropes and cutting his hands was a neat sequence, it shows him go from stupid, to almost clever and having will to survive...you know traits he had in the poem, but he stops showing these traits or growing. Basically Gawain has to be dragged kicking and screaming to help people and shows no fortitude when facing temptation, or when showing respect towards others, it's exhausting. You don't make this kind of journey story without character growth. Why are you skipping this? Also is it just me, or is this like when you take Frank Miller Batman and transport him onto a Bill Finger story? This is at best Thomas Malory Gawain (and this is charitable) transported on the earlier Pearl Poet's story. Stop it. It's not tonally correct and goes at odds with the story and the set up characterization you'd need to tell it. Speaking of which, you know how I get through the oof... of Liam Neeson Gawain in Excalibur? By pretending he Agravain instead. Here...I don't even think Gawain could pass as Mordred in spite of his covetous nature, lust and entitlement. Why? because I don't think even Mordred is this dumb to warrant this hubris. Essel being invented as a tacked on love interest just to be shit on utterly and for what? I don't think I have much commentary here as there is no Essel I'm aware of to compare, or stack up. I just notice this trope of like...usually if you include a sex worker in Hollywood she often has a heart of gold, she often has her own sense of values that goes at odds with society, but is more true and less hypocritical than a privileged lady’s. I thought that's what they would've done with the added trope of back at home sweetheart to contrast and pit her against the despicable femme fatale of Lady Bertilak and her adultery and her ladyship...and I'm glad they didn't...but you did nothing with Essel than to shit on her for existing when you made her exist, you know. Lady Bertilak being portrayed as the seductress devil incarnate. Look I know adultery is a touchy taboo, but uh her and Gawain hit it off in the poem, dammit! Her values and his values come to clash, but here it's played off as Gawain is stupid and covetous and Lady Bertilak wants to prove something because...? If my brother's theory that she's a figment of Morgan Le Fay's magic, then I'll take this as a lesson of Gawain is impulsive and covetous and his mom knows it, but he don't want to fuck his mom, but he wants her power, and Morgan wants to teach him a lesson... I guess. Hey we don't have misogynist speeches in this movie, but we'll make sure to have the movie drip with it with no point, or commentary. Pass. Lord guilting, extracting and initiating the same sex kiss and only once. Poem automatically better that Gawain don't have to keep being reminded to keep his part of the bargain and he does it willingly more than once. What he doesn't do is give up his belt...gods how did we get more homophobic as a society that the homoeroticism here is worse? Catholics of the middle ages officially had no issue doing same sex, passionate kissing until it lead to sex. The Ending: The gods damn ending. In the movie as is, Gawain waits to uphold his end of the bargain and get his head chopped off. He imagines, even though we don't get any fuzzy or distortion to indicate this is a dream, but I already knew this was coming, he runs away and comes home, is regarded a hero, he sees his lady, takes her from behind and if you saw Brokeback Mountain (I didn't, but DJ has) you know this is a sign of disrespect to women. He gets her knocked up, pays her off for the kid she wants to keep, he is crowned king, marries the ghostly saint lady he helped retrieve her head earlier from a lake in the movie (this right here is the damn tip off). There's no more dialogue by this point and everything is montaging, so you know by now it's a dream, though nothing is out of focus. He rules as a heartless king, his whore son dies from war he waged, he has a daughter, his wife dies. Gawain then takes off the belt that would've saved his life and his head falls off. This would've been the one good twist, except... In this sequence of events he never had his head cut off so uh... now we back in present day. He decides not to bitch out, Green Knight in a sexy way is like "now off with your head," movie cuts to credits with no resolve...uh what the fuck? What the fuck? This is not good. You wasted the one twist in your dream when idk, you could've...

How I'd fix it: No dream sequence at all. No Incident At Owl Creek twist. Gawain comes home a hero and survivor of this game and ordeal. He wears this belt of shame. He becomes a well-renowned knight, but he bears a shame. One day he goes to take off his belt and his head falls off because he cheated to get this belt and to survive this encounter. There. Done. Improved your high concept movie that couldn't play any of the lessons straight from the damn poem without making everyone an asshole for no reason! Ugh! But nope you had to end it on we don’t know if Gawain lives or dies...because...it's dream magic made from his momma's witchcraft...?

Last Thoughts So then post-credits scene because Marvel because Pirates Of The Caribbean existed. A white girl who looks nothing like Gawain's daughter we see who didn’t pay off, or any child I can remember through this whole movie picks up King Arthur's crown that dream Gawain inherited and puts it on her head. Who is this girl? Are we gonna have an indie equivalent of of the Marvel Movie Universe/Universal Horror Monsters thing with ancient British legends? We gonna get a Life Of Saint Patrick next that crosses over? I don't know. What is this?

[amarits]

Tim slowly put his computer back in his bag and sat there, hands folded in his lap. He didn’t know what would happen now. All his planning, and plotting, and micromanaging his life down to the smallest decision, and he couldn’t see more than one step ahead. Go to the corner of Doile and 18th Street. Meet up with Dick. And then… see Bruce? Batman? There was a very big difference between seeing Bruce and seeing Batman.

He didn’t know if he’d made the right choice, telling Batman the truth, but at the time it had seemed like the only choice. Even now, he couldn’t imagine Jason covered in blood, potentially dying, Batman asking him who he was, and him… lying? His brain stuttered to a stop at the thought of it.

He’d watched for a few minutes longer than Batman had wanted him to. Just until Jason was in the helicopter, hooked up to various wires and tubes. He didn’t know what it all did. Blood transfusion, something to release the pressure on his brain. Tim wished he was staying in the library researching it all instead of… of… of going to see Batman?

He covered his face and took a deep, shuddering breath. He felt like his hands were covered in blood, like he was smearing it onto his face, even though he hadn’t been anywhere near the actual scene. Watching through Batman’s mask felt like he was the one desperately trying to save Robin’s life, despite not actually doing anything to help.

No, that wasn’t true. He’d told Batman, convinced him to turn around in time. He’d called the hospital, gotten them to send the ambulance. He’d done everything he could.

Half an hour earlier, he’d been hoping it was an emergency. Hoping for it. What was wrong with him?

He breathed in through his nose until he felt like his lungs couldn’t expand any further, and out, slowly, through his mouth. He needed to calm down before he went out into the hallway. He could hear people out there. People coming into the library too. Was it lunch already? He was lucky the library had been so empty until now. The librarian had come over when he screamed Jason’s name and he’d somehow managed to tell her he was working on a school project about the Argonauts, that they were putting on a play for class. He’d even managed to smile and apologize. And magically, miraculously, she’d believed him. She’d just asked that he keep it down in case there were other students. She had even complimented him on his acting.

He saw Jason again in the darkness behind his eyelids, covered in blood, collapsed in a heap on the ground. In that second, he’d thought Jason was already dead.

His breath was getting faster instead of slower. He swallowed air helplessly, like he was drowning, like he was in the deepest depths of the ocean, the weight of all that water pushing down on him, making it harder to fill his lungs even if there had been oxygen instead of water.

He forced his eyes to open, to look at the books across from him instead of the image inside his brain. Thoreau’s Mock-Heroics and the American Natural History Writers, European Revolutions and the American Literary Renaissance, The Literary History of the American Revolution, Women and Authorship. His breath slowed as he read the titles, until he felt like he’d finished a short jog instead of an Olympic triathlon. Maybe he didn’t know what was going to happen, but he could take one step at a time.

Step 1, stand up. He stood on shaky legs and had to try three times to lift his bookbag over his shoulder. When had he filled it with rocks? When had he lost all his strength? He felt like he’d been sitting there long enough for his muscles to atrophy.

Step 2, leave the library. He’d taken two unsteady steps out of the annex when an uncertain voice asked, “Tim?” so quietly he almost didn’t recognize it as Steph’s. He hadn’t seen her enter the aisle even though his eyes were looking right at her. She must have come looking for him. Her fingers tightened around her purple phone case until her skin turned white. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

He opened his mouth to tell her, the memory of blood more clear in his vision than her standing right in front of him. He could already feel the relief of saying it out loud, of sharing the weight of fear and sorrow and...

His mouth snapped shut. He couldn’t tell her. If Jason survived, if Jason came back with his array of injuries, and he’d told her what happened to Robin… it would be too obvious. She was too smart. She’d figure it out immediately.

And if he didn’t survive… if he didn’t survive and he’d told her what happened to Robin, and she figured it out, he’d be betraying Jason’s memory, betraying Bruce and Dick in the worst of their grief.

He didn’t have someone who knew, he realized. Not really. Because it was never his secret. He was just a… a… a stalker with delusions of grandeur that he’d convinced her were true. This wasn’t about him. It never had been.

Read more on AO3

[mischiefandspirits]

Colony of Gotham (2/7)

The Colony of Gotham is an urban legend that is whispered about in the dangerous city. It's said the Colony is a family of demons and spirits that stalk the night, hunting for the souls of the guilty.

When Bruce became Batman, he'd never intended to be mistaken for a demon. He was happy to lean into it, though, and as he gained his partners -- as his family grew -- they all followed suit.

First Part ~ Next Part

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

When winter came, Jack Drake used a Christmas gala as an excuse to approach Tim. He brought him into a side room to give him the news that Janet was dead, then proceeded to all but demand Tim return to the Drake mansion before the boy could fully process his words. When Tim tried to bring up the others, Jack stated Tim was nothing more than a charity case for Bruce just like Dick and Jason. Tim knew that wasn’t true for the older boys as Bruce had claimed them. For his own case, however, Jack’s words hit hard.

Bruce had yet to turn him. Tim knew the older boys had both been with him for years before their own turnings, but that was because neither had wanted it. Barbara had been changed right away, so why not Tim? He couldn’t bring himself to ask -- wasn't sure he could handle what would happen if Bruce said no -- but they had to know, right? They must have seen the way they watched them when they ate or discussed their nature. They were all detectives, after all.

He started to wonder if Jack might be right and Bruce didn’t really want him. Between that, his mother being dead, and his father actually wanting him, Tim didn’t fight it when Jack tried to lead him out.

Which was when Jason appeared in all his fury. He didn’t know why Jack was there, but he did know he had no right to be anywhere near Tim after what he’d done. Tim tried to talk him down, but that only made Jason angrier. He pulled Tim away from the man and told him Jack didn’t know what he was talking about. Bruce loved Tim just as he loved Jason and Dick. When Tim tried to argue, Jason realized how Tim had linked being turned with being family.

Temper rising and impulsivity at its peak, Jason heard Jack tell Tim they were leaving without even asking if that’s what he wanted, looked the man dead in the eyes, and bit his little brother. He made sure Jack couldn’t see his fangs or Tim’s wound as he gathered his brother into a hug and told Jack, in no uncertain terms, that Tim was theirs and if he had a problem with it he could take it up with Bruce’s lawyers. Then he led Tim away while passing him a dehydrated blood bar so he could complete his transformation.

Jason realized that maybe his timing needed work as the fever haze of turning began to wash over Tim, but the memory of the sunshine smile he’d received when his little brother had realized what he was doing and the tight hug Tim was giving him even in his declining consciousness made it worth it.

At least until they reached the car and Alfred leveled Jason with a look.

The moment Tim was tucked away in bed, Bruce and Dick laid into Jason about discretion and consent. Jason had been sure Tim wanted it, but doubt started to creep in as the younger boy slept through his transformation.

When Tim woke to an apology, he thought it meant Jason didn’t want him after all. The two quickly reassured one another then, with Barbara’s help, managed to make the others see reason as well.

When Tim’s animal form turned out to be a scrub jay, Jason never let his Tiny Jay live it down.

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

Kate Kane traveled the world for years to bring herself out of the downward spiral of alcohol and women she’d fallen into after leaving military academy, then returned to Gotham to make a name for herself as the Batwoman.

They called her a succubus with porcelain skin, lips painted with blood, and red fire for hair that had horn-like ears poking out. Unlike the rest of the Colony, she had eyes that could be seen, bright red with black sclera and slit pupils. There were hints of a curvy figure under the armor she donned. It was black with a bat painted onto the chest in blood.

They said she was beautiful.

They also said she was, without a doubt, the most vicious of the Colony. She didn’t carry guns, but she’d be happy to steal yours to use. It only took a few gunshots to men’s knees before word got around she favored women and protected them, though some never got the hint and still tried to flirt with her.

Bruce was not pleased when he found out who she was, but he knew the woman well enough to know she wouldn’t stop so he brought her into the fold as much as she would allow.

Jason and Tim hadn’t met her before, having joined the family after she’d left. The younger boy got along well enough with her, but the older boy was immediately taken with his new crazy vodka aunt (they were technically second cousins once removed, but everyone agreed aunt was simpler) and Bruce regretted introducing them when he realized the two were sneaking off to gun ranges together.

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

A new team of heroes eventually arrived on the scene, one that would go on to cause problems for one Tim Wayne.

It began one month after the team’s formation when a certain clone -- in a fit of rebellion against one of the men whose DNA had formed him -- decided to take a trip to the one city the Justice League avoided like the plague and ordered their mentees to do the same.

Despite almost immediately regretting it, he held out for three hours before deciding to head back. The problem came when he realized he had no idea how to do that. He was completely lost and had left his phone at home to be sure Clark wouldn’t figure out where he’d gone.

Not for the first time, he wished he could fly.

He wandered around lost for another half an hour, not willing to trust any of the Gothamites that all seemed to eye him with an even greater distrust, before a boy stumbled out of a coffee shop and directly into him. Kon was impressed the smaller boy hadn’t managed to spill a drop of coffee nor lose his footing in the collision considering the massive bags under his eyes and the way he almost seemed to be vibrating from what Kon realized was a half-empty black coffee with six shots of espresso.

Tim managed to show him the way to the train station in between complaining that he was a creature of the night that didn’t need sleep, wishing destruction on his elder brother for dragging him into the city for a book signing before disappearing on him because of an emergency, the brightness of the day (despite the sky being more overcast than Kon had ever seen it in his month of life), and describing the video game he’d stayed up the night before playing.

Kon was honestly extremely worried about the guy, and he might have forced him to swap numbers before he left on the train so he could make sure Tim got home safe, even if the guy claimed he just needed to call his other brother to pick him up. Tim did get home safe, but he also got a second coffee beforehand so Kon felt justified.

In Tim’s defense, he required three times the amount of caffeine to feel the effects. Not in his defense, he had drunk more than three times the amount that day.

Tim did not appreciate the grumpy, yet overprotective puppy he’d somehow gained. All the same, he couldn’t bring himself to block Kon’s number. Even when he put together that Conner “Kon” Kent was Superboy, a founding member of Young Justice.

Tim also didn’t appreciate his brothers teasing him over his new super friend.

The teasing only got worse some months later when Tim and Barbara went to a convention together where he got into a long conversation with one Keli Quintela about the integration of human and alien technology and the pros and cons of utilizing alien coding language in firewalls. They ended up spending most of the convention together and went home with each other’s numbers and emails. So of course she turned out to be Young Justice’s Teen Lantern.

He would never let his brothers know that Keli set mandatory downtime hours on all the projects they worked on together because, apparently, he had “an unhealthy work ethic” and needed to “take more personal time.”

Unfortunately, he couldn’t keep it from Barbara. She soon started setting similar blocks on his other projects.

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

Stephanie’s story is a familiar one. She took on the persona of Spoiler to help the Colony take down her father Cluemaster whenever he decided to cause trouble. She wore body armor she’d stolen from her father and dyed purple alongside a cloak and a mask that covered the bottom of her face. She interacted with the Robins the most during their on-again-off-again team up so it was no surprise she eventually realized there was more than one. This meant that when Jason decided he was getting too old for Robin, they went with the obvious successor.

Stephanie will never admit how long it took her to realize the lot of them weren’t demonic monstrosities. Or how long it took her to catch onto the vampire thing.

According to rumors, the Red Hood had been the leader of the Red Hood Gang when it was at its prime. He’d been brought back from the dead by Batwoman to serve as her right hand and he held a grudge against the Joker for leading the gang to ruin. He was a brute in armor to match hers under a black and blood-red hooded vest. A red mask covered his mouth and nose while a black domino with glowing red lenses hid his eyes. His hair was a fiery red that matched his mistress’s. They said he was just as vicious as her and while he was thrilled to beat you down with nothing more than his fists, and more than capable of doing so as well, he often used the guns hidden under his vest. Some said he never kills, others said he simply handed those he does over to his mistress. He never spoke but in growls, but his mistress always knew what he was saying.

That might have been because Jason only spoke over comms while his mask filtered his voice into animalistic growls.

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

During this time, Cassandra Cain celebrated her eighth birthday by killing Miranda Row on her father’s orders. Cass, trained to understand body language better than most understand words, was horrified as she took in how the dying woman was feeling and fled both the scene and her father. He went down for the crime, but Miranda’s daughter Harper knew the man hadn’t acted alone and was out for blood.

On a happier note, this was also around when Stephanie was turned.

If anyone ever asked Stephanie how it happened, she would be sure to give them a story full of lies that was guaranteed to be far more dramatic than what actually happened while Tim would be off in the corner, blushing face hidden in his hands.

Because honestly, it was an accident.

She and Tim had been cuddling in the cave on their night off. Tim had gotten a little enthusiastic with his fangs, not that she minded at the time. Then she grabbed a drink from the mini-fridge. Unfortunately, neither of them realized just what she was drinking until it was too late.

A human is bitten by a vampire. A human drinks another human’s blood. The human is no longer a human.

The situation made the Colony more cautious around their significant others, to the amusement of one asexual-aromantic Jason Todd-Wayne. It wasn’t a problem for Bruce as Selina had turned before he’d ever met her, but Barbara and Kate both started keeping their blood locked in mini-fridges in their closets. Dick, unfortunately, wasn’t as lucky.

The manor was safe, but he wouldn’t be able to keep anything locked away at Artemis’s apartment without explanation. He could easily just keep all his normal blood at the manor, but he usually had a blood bar or two on him in case of emergency and Wally was known to steal food thanks to his speedster-increased metabolism. The bars weren’t toxic to humans in case someone happened to get their hands on one and Wally had only made the mistake of stealing one once before when Dick had first turned (he’d eaten it too fast to react to the taste, but had immediately gagged after and sworn off ever trying one again), but Dick was still nervous one or both of his partners might get their hands on one by accident.

As a result, he stopped nibbling on Wally and Artemis during intimate moments just in case, something that did not go unnoticed. Dick was a biter, so when he suddenly stopped out of nowhere the two began to worry. They tried to talk to him about it, but he talked around them or played dumb. Artemis then texted Jason, Artemis Grace, and Barbara.

Jason simply sent her a vomiting emoji before saying if she still wanted to come with him and Kate to the gun range, she wasn’t allowed to talk about doing that kind of stuff with his brother around him ever again.

Grace advised them that if Dick wasn’t satisfying them then they should rid themselves of him. When Artemis tried to say that wasn’t the problem, all she received in response was a shrugging emoji.

Barbara said she didn’t know but she’d try to talk to him, then immediately texted Dick to tell him to either get over his fear or tell his partners what was up.

Dick worried over it for a week before blurting out that he was a vampire while the three were cuddling in bed.

The two laughed, assuming it was another of his jokes, until they realized he wasn’t laughing but hiding behind his hands. The three had had a long conversation after that about the nature of vampires, how Dick fed, and the powers and limitations that came with vampirism, the latter of which included Wally receiving a painful kick to the shin over a glitter joke.

The two had taken it well, having seen weirder things in their lives, and Artemis got a lockbox for Dick to keep his bars in to prevent any accidents that could come from Wally’s hunger-induced amnesia.

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

Mary Elizabeth “Bette” Kane was first cousins once removed with Kate Kane, which is how she ended up getting sent to her aunt’s for the summer. She had been excited at first since she knew how much Kate liked to party, but she was more than disappointed when she found out she’d been signed up for a science summer camp at Wayne Enterprises. She fought with her aunt over it and when that didn’t work, she went looking for dirt. That was how she’d accidentally stumbled upon the Batcave.

Kate and Bruce unfortunately didn’t have enough time to figure out what to do about it before something else took precedence.

Barbara was shot by the Joker.

That night affected three young women’s lives.

Barbara’s vampiric durability meant the damage wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but her mobility was still too limited for her to ever go out in the field again. After some time to come to terms with her new state, she settled into the role of Pythia.

It was a serpent made of code, slithering through servers and whispering into the ears of the Colony. It was never seen, only heard. It saw all. It knew all. Beware if it turned its attention to you.

Stephanie stepped up as Batgirl. They needed the cover and she honestly butt heads with Bruce too much to be a good Robin anyway. Plus, purple was much more her color.

Batgirl had grown stronger. When you could see her, she was nothing more than a shadow cloaked in violet. However, it was rare you’d see anything. Thanks to the theft of an invisibility device Penguin had built for her father, sometimes you couldn’t even see her when she was right in front of you.

Bette was in the cave while the others were hunting down Joker, Kate too worried to leave her at home until they were sure he didn’t know their identities. As she watched the Colony work, it suddenly hit her what her aunt was doing as Batwoman. After that day, she put more effort into the camp and even developed an interest in medicine. At the same time, she began to learn how to fight from her aunt. When the summer came to an end, she pulled some strings to get enrolled in Gotham Academy so she could stay with Kate. Then she took her place as Tim’s partner by offering her fashion and makeup skills.

“The shadows have started to overwhelm the Bloody Robin,” people whispered.

The ones that had always wrapped around him rose up in the form of a hood while darkness had ensnared his limbs, leaving only hints of green on his clawed feet and hands. The formation of the hood, though, revealed his neck.

And the long bloody gash that encircled it.

They say the change was done by Batman, that he tore Robin’s head off to bring out his darkness.

During this time, Barbara was dealing with the trauma of what had happened to her. One of the ways she did this was by joining an online support group for trauma survivors. It was through the chatroom that she met Hank Hall and his girlfriend Dawn Granger. The three quickly became friends. Hank was grumpy but well-meaning in a way Barbara was all too familiar with. Dove was more openly kind and caring, though Barbara could see a viciousness lurking beneath.

The three talked for weeks before deciding to meet up for lunch when Barbara was on a trip to D.C. It was only then that she looked them up, not wanting to risk meeting them in person if they were up to something.

She took the teasing over having super friends with far more dignity than the boys. Admittedly their status as super friends was more debatable since the couple were semi-retired and only really went out in emergency cases or as favors to their old Titans friends.

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

When Bart Allen heard his Grandma Iris and Uncle Wally talking about the latter going on another trip to Gotham, he was ecstatic. The myths about Gotham were always the best horror stories to listen to growing up in the future and now that he was Kid Flash he was sure Wally would let him go with him. He’d been waiting for his opportunity since he’d taken the name and joined Young Justice, but there had always been things in the way. Wally had a mission. Dick was busy so Tigress had come to Central instead. Bart had a mission. Bart had another mission. The police commissioner's daughter got shot so no one was going to Gotham. So on and so forth.

It had been over a year, but finally, Wally was going to Gotham and Bart had nothing planned.

“No, you can’t come,” Wally said immediately.

“Why not?” Bart whined.

“Gotham’s too dangerous,” Iris said, from where she was folding towels. She gave Wally a pointed look. “Neither of you need to be going there.”

Wally shrugged.

“But -”

“No,” the two adults cut over Bart.

He went anyway.

Unfortunately, while he could run just as fast as his uncle-slash-first cousin once removed, he wasn’t quite as coordinated as the older speedster so he lost track of him halfway through the city. Not managing to find him again, he ended up deciding to just grab something to eat and head back. Deciding to ask for a local’s opinion, he ran around until he spotted someone moderately trustworthy looking (it took longer than it would normally, but he’d expected that in Gotham). When the shorter teen offhandedly mentioned he was sneaking away from his brothers and their friends, Bart invited him to come eat with him. When the guy couldn’t seem to remember when the last time he ate was, the invitation turned into a kidnapping.

The guy, Tim, was pretty cool even if he clearly couldn’t take care of himself. He actually kind of reminded Bart of the friends Kon and Keli had mentioned having in Gotham, so maybe a lack of self-care was a Gotham thing. Either way, Bart had them swap numbers and proceeded to bother his new friend around mealtimes to make sure he ate.

Tim hadn’t even needed to look up Bart since Dick showed up in his room with a big grin talking about how Wally’s nephew had gotten a new Gotham friend named Tim.

The younger brother wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve this. He hadn’t asked for it. Why did these people keep showing up out of nowhere!

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

TFW you find out scrub jays are the only non-primate and non-dolphin shown to plan ahead for the future and just can't help yourself.

Steph wears her suit from Young Justice as Spoiler and her Rebirth Spoiler suit as Batgirl.

Jason's Red Hood suit is a mixup. It's the typical Red Hood suit, but the helmet and jacket are swapped out for the mask and vest from Red Hood: Outlaw.

The updated Robin suit is similar to Damian's from the animated movies, just with the usual black robin mask. And bloody.

Vampires' animal forms:

Tim: Woodhouse's scrub jay

Kate & Bette: Gray bat

Stephanie: Golden jackal

[aion-rsa]

What Did Batman Do Between The Dark Knight and The Dark Knight Rises?

https://ift.tt/3cfgO0Z

The Dark Knight not so much glided back onto cinema screens in 2012 as he hobbled across them. With a scraggly, unkempt beard and a bathrobe acting as his cape, Bruce Wayne appeared more like how one imagines Christian Bale exists between gigs than Batman at the start of The Dark Knight Rises. He appeared like an invalid whose great adventures were behind him.

In retrospect, this is probably not the version of the Caped Crusader fans expected to find after The Dark Knight’s thrilling finale. At the close of what many still consider to be the high water mark for superhero movies, Batman has agreed to take on the burden of Harvey Dent’s sins, framing himself as a murderer and saving Gotham City from cynicism through a veil of lies. Yet it’s not really a sad ending. Gary Oldman’s Jim Gordon even pens a triumphant eulogy for the superhero’s fallen image. The Batman’s become “a Dark Knight.”

After the film concluded, many fans began speculating just what a third chapter of the Christopher Nolan directed and co-written Batman films would look like: the police at war with Batman? The rise of a criminal underworld of masked freaks like Joker and Batman, embracing the chaos unleashed by their fight? Maybe we’d get to see Batman tackle the Riddler, a foe almost as mentally taxing as the clown.

None of these came to pass, however, as made exceedingly clear in the first seconds of Bale’s introduction in The Dark Knight Rises. Eight years have passed in the film’s narrative since last we saw our hero, and Bruce is now disheveled and broken, haunted by ghosts while living like one in the shadows of Wayne Manor. Prior to directing Batman Begins, Nolan dreamed of making a film about Howard Hughes’ final years: the period when the millionaire aviator, film producer, and mad man succumbed to his neuroses and obsessions. Rises not so subtly revisits that iconography, with Selina Kyle (Anne Hathaway) even expressing disappointment over Citizen Wayne not having Hughes’ long fingernails.

To many moviegoers, particularly fans, this is apparently all Batman’s been doing for the last eight years: living like a recluse and leaving the burden of saving Gotham to the GCPD. However, given all the context clues in The Dark Knight Rises, this is hardly accurate.

Bruce Wayne’s Greatest Crusade

While Nolan’s third Batman movie begins with Bruce Wayne fully entrenched in his traumas—the loss of his parents, his murdered childhood love, Rachel Dawes, and an overwhelming sense of despair about the state of the world—he didn’t immediately hang up the cape at the end of The Dark Knight and start growing the beard. In fact, more than just obsessing over “saving Gotham,” Bruce moved on to trying to save everyone.

The timeline is never fully explained, but various scenes between Bruce Wayne, the woman who calls herself Miranda Tate (Marion Cotillard), and other members of the Wayne Enterprises board reveal Bruce Wayne only gave fully into his demons about three years before the events of The Dark Knight Rises.

“You have a practiced apathy, Mr. Wayne,” Miranda says when she sees Bruce has stepped out of his cave, literally and figuratively, and is now at a charity event. “But a man who doesn’t care about the world doesn’t spend half his fortune trying to save it, and isn’t so wounded when it fails that he goes into hiding.” In another scene, she clarifies the timeline further when she tells Bruce (and thereby the audience), “Three years ago, a scientist published a paper on weaponized fusion reactions. One week later, your reactor started developing problems.”

When these details are fully considered, they paint a tragic portrait of Wayne’s isolation. In Nolan’s The Dark Knight Trilogy, Bruce Wayne never imagined Batman to be an indefatigable superhero who valiantly fights an endless war on crime. With the filmmakers’ quest to ground their Batman in verisimilitude—which is to say make him feel real even as his exploits are far from realistic—they opted to depict the character as neither crazy or misanthropic. He did not only put on the cape to soothe his fractured psyche, and he doesn’t get his jollies from beating up the desperate poor every night… a grim implication for a “grounded” interpretation of a billionaire patrolling “dangerous neighborhoods” looking for a fight.

As Bruce tells loyal butler Alfred (Michael Caine) in Batman Begins, “[I’m coming back] as long as it takes. I’m going to show the people of Gotham their city doesn’t belong to the criminals and corrupt.” In his way, Bruce viewed the Batman as akin to a political campaign. Batman’s a symbol to galvanize the better angels of Gotham around an idea of anti-corruption and anti-organized crime reform. And like a political operator, Bruce built a network of allies and true believers to implement incremental change through the system. But as the saying goes, the road to Hell is paved in good intentions.

After several years of Batman-ing, Bruce has inspired copycat vigilantes who got themselves killed and a nihilistic anarchist who called himself Joker, a glorified terrorist who did irreparable harm to Gotham’s institutions, its morality, and the public trust. Still, Bruce Wayne had a desire to use his wealth to improve the world, and not just his own mood. Hence instead of spending “half his wealth” solely on an ego-stroking war on crime, he invested in building a clean energy fusion reactor.

While it seemed like an almost incidental plot point in 2012, the increasingly dire effects of climate change with each passing year makes the fantasy of powerful nuclear fusion ever more appealing. A nuclear fusion reactor that actually produced comparable amounts of energy to modern nuclear power plants (which run via nuclear fission) would mean a much cheaper power source, as well as one that did not have the drawbacks of nuclear fission, including dangerous radioactive material that must be disposed of for millennia, and power plants that run the risk of melting down.

In Nolan’s fantasy action movies, Wayne Enterprises spent hundreds of billions of dollars on “some save the world vanity project,” as one of Bruce’s rivals puts it. A clean, cheap, and massive nuclear fusion reactor could be a silver bullet for curbing carbon emissions around the world, and a chance to stop something far scarier than supervillains.

Yet after five years of investment, it resulted in more chaos. A scientist’s paper in a professional journal reveals Wayne’s dream machine was also a weapon in the making. Indeed, that’s exactly how Tom Hardy’s Bane uses it during the second half of The Dark Knight Rises. Like the abstract idea of Batman before it, the good intentions baked into Wayne’s nuclear fusion miracle result in more death, more destabilization, and more chaos.

The man with an obvious hero complex failed again. Only then does Bruce give up on the world and indulge his myriad traumas.

Batman Returns Off-Screen?

That is how Bruce Wayne spent five of the eight years between The Dark Knight and The Dark Knight Rises. However, that doesn’t mean there was not also room for Batman. While the canonical text of the film states no one has seen Batman in eight years, there is reason to believe Bruce Wayne did not hang up the cowl on the night Harvey Dent died.

In another scene in Rises, rookie cop John Blake (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) recalls the myth that grew around the night Harvey Dent died. Blake says it was “the last confirmed sighting of the Batman [before] he then vanishes.” But confirmed is the operative word here since there are little things that don’t line up between the two movies that fit this narrative. For starters, there is the swanky Batcave sitting beneath Wayne Manor. When we first see it in the third film, finally renovated after primarily being a long lost historical site from the 1800s in Batman Begins, Bruce is perched at a bank of computers, trying to figure out the identity of Selina Kyle.

“You haven’t been down here in a long time,” Alfred says to his surrogate son. The implication is that in some earlier time, Bruce would spend days in the Batcave. Why would he if his war on organized crime was over? Why build an entire second Batsuit in the cave to complement the one he keeps hidden in his off-site location if he’s done? The answer is that he wasn’t. At least not for some months or years after the events of The Dark Knight.

Read more

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The Actors Who Have Played Batman

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The Batman: Can a Superhero Movie Be Too Dark?

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Throughout the movie, memories about the violent days after Two-Face’s death and the passage of the Dent Act abound, with all the characters describing it as a “war.” It seems plausible someone as obsessive and exacting as Bruce Wayne would want to participate. In fact, it’d be odd if he did not. Embracing hidden and more surreptitious tactics after becoming a public enemy might also explain how Batman injured his knee so badly between The Dark Knight and The Dark Knight Rises that he needs a brace to hide the limp.

It also might explain why no one bats an eye at Selina Kyle’s cat-themed costume. While no character calls the femme fatale with a heart of gold “Catwoman” in the film, she isn’t afraid of embracing the theatricality of her catlike ears either. She even hisses, “Cat got your tongue?” to a mark. The impracticality of this entire aesthetic seems inspired, at least in part, by the Batman. While there is never a line of dialogue confirming this, Hathaway and an uncharacteristically restrained Nolan rely on inference to get the point across.

Like Jim Gordon, Catwoman is given a moment to pause in what she’s doing to marvel at the television when news of Batman’s return breaks. And when she hitches a ride in the Batman’s sci-fi aircraft, she steals a glance at her surroundings when he’s not looking, smiling to herself about being in the same space as an apparent childhood hero. Indeed, Selina would’ve been a teenager during the events of Batman Begins and The Dark Knight, and like perhaps so many other members of the next generation of criminals and adventurers, her imagination took flight with news reports of a man dressed as a Bat jumping off rooftops.

It returns to the theme of “escalation” from The Dark Knight, with the Joker saying to Batman, “You’ve changed things forever.” At the beginning of that film, the Bat was still fighting mobsters; by the end he was facing clowns in war paint. The transition was painful for Gotham, but no one seems to think it odd anymore for a famed cat burglar to turn her goggles into cat ears. It makes you wonder if there were any more elements of a rogue’s gallery in the interceding years before the Dent Act brought vaguely unconstitutional order?

This is admittedly speculation. And the kind which reminds us that there were stories that could’ve been told between The Dark Knight and The Dark Knight Rises that we’ll never see. It’s probably this knowledge that disappoints some fans. Before details of Rises’ plot leaked, the nascent comic book Twitter theories of the era imagined Bale’s Batman opening the movie still running from the Gotham City Police, and fighting the next war.

Instead Rises begins with the war over, and Bruce all the bitterer for it. It was a large pill to swallow for fans who dream of Batman as a crusader always ready for the next robbery, mugging, or burning building. They wanted to see Batman fighting serial killers who leave riddles, not as the Phantom of Wayne Manor, and then as a retiree who’s conquered his pain well enough to enjoy a glass of wine in Italy.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

For those disappointed, Matt Reeves’ The Batman looks poised to offer the follow-up they wanted a decade ago. But Nolan’s choice to depict a Batman who had the vision to see the big picture, and to then walk away from it, remains satisfyingly singular and whole.

The post What Did Batman Do Between The Dark Knight and The Dark Knight Rises? appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3kUYuym

[enbycalicocat]

Day 5: 31st of January, 2021

.

A few days ago, my psychologist posed a question that turned my life upside down. And when I said upside down, I really meant it. Sleep had eluded me for the last week. My head was full of only that one question, the words resounding over and over again, like bells tolling.

 "Are you going to keep your name? Or do you want to change it?"

 Never in my life had I thought about changing my name. Not once. So, my psychologist's words took me by complete surprise.

 "Change my name? Why? For what?"

 "What do you mean why?" The woman had asked me, as surprised as me. Suddenly, she seemed to understand something and she became uncomfortable. "Well, Lindsey, many people in your situation, most of them in fact, change their names."

 'People in your situation.'

Just like her, I understood all at once.

 And it was true, a lot of transgender people decided to change their names when they started to transition. But I hadn't thought about that. In fact, I didn't want another name. I was very sure.

 "Lindsey," the woman in front of me said, "Your life, your feelings, your thoughts, do not need to be like everyone else's. You are your own person, and there's nothing wrong with that. Do not think you have to change your name. Just consider it as a type of healthy self-examination. Something to get to know yourself better and nothing else."

 I didn't think there was anything healthy in the way I had been thinking about her question, though.

 "Lin!" James' voice rang loudly, almost right next to my ear.

 My body jerked involuntarily and I turned to look at him with wide eyes. My boyfriend's face crumpled like paper and my heart gave a painful pang.

 Girl, could I have made it any more obvious that I hadn't been paying attention to him for the last god-knew-how-many hours?

 "I'm sorry," I said immediately, my face crumpling right along with his. "Honey, I'm so sorry. Really. There's no excuse. I should be listening to you. I'm the worst."

 James sighed wearily and shook his head.

"Lin, baby, just tell me what's going on with you. Please. You're killing me here."

 Looking away guiltily told James exactly what I'd been thinking about, no need for words.

 "The name thing? Still? Lin, why is this eating you up so much!"

 "Because I don't know what to do." The whine in my voice was childish and silly but I didn't care. I was sick and tired of thinking about the name thing too!

 "Okay. You know what. Let's go over this. Together. Let's debate and discuss and talk and put it out in the freaking air because I don't want it to rot in your head and rot your brain along the way."

 A small smile made the corners of my lips lift a bit but then it was gone. He was trying to lighten up the atmosphere. It didn't work at all, though. Still, I gave him A+ for effort.

 "Let's see. Do you want to change your name?"

 "I don't know." The whine was back and there was nothing I could do to avoid it.

 "Alright..." James said as he thought. "Do you like your name?"

 "I love it. You know this. I have always adored it to bits and pieces."

 "Yeah, baby, I know, but I wanted you to say it again." James gave me an encouraging smile, as if we were making progress. I couldn't see any though. "Why do you think other trans people change their names?"

 That question took me by surprise as I wasn't expecting it. We were talking about me, why did he suddenly want to discuss other people? However, instead of saying anything, I considered what he'd said. If James was bringing it up, there was a reason

 "Well..." I mused. "Maybe because of their past? Because they want to separate their lives? I mean, if they had a very hard time while living under their old name, even more if it didn't align with the gender they identify with, they would change it when they transitioned. That was their old life. This was their new life. Each marked with a name. And that's not even considering the possibility that their parents, the ones that chose their original name, might not support them or they don't accept them. So, that name carries a lot of memories and emotions, and if they're not the type of emotions they want in this new beginning, it makes sense to shed it."

 "Those are very good points." James mused, watching me with shiny, happy eyes. It made my heart skip a beat. Why was he looking at me like that? "Do you feel like that? Do you feel like your name is carrying a lot of emotions you don't want to take onto this next chapter of your life?"

 Through my mind flashed many different images and scenes.

The first time I finally found the courage to go out in a dress, with make-up, and a wig. That time I presented myself as Lindsey. It was also the first time I ever dated, kissed and had sex with someone as me. The me that's a girl.

Moving out of my parents house to a new city. I had lived in the dorms and entered into university, as a girl. The administration knew of me and my case, and were not against keeping my indentified gender from my parents. I had gone to class, made friends, talked to teachers, handed in projects and essays, all as Lindsey.

That photography class in which I met James. With me as Lindsey we'd fallen in love, graduated, found steady jobs, bought a house together and adopted a little kitten.

Lastly, that Thanksgiving, when I told my parents that I didn't identify as a boy, and then presented them my girl 'side'. They had been silent the whole while. And when they saw me dressed with a wig, girl clothes, and heels and the way I walked, my mother started crying. At the time I thought I would be rejected, insulted, humiliated, that my parents wouldn't love me anymore. But then my mother asked me why I had taken so long to tell them. My father looked me in the eyes with unspilled tears and asked if I didn't trust them. Turns out that when they saw me, the way I carried myself, and my change in behavior, it had become glaringly obvious to them that I'd been a girl for many years already, and hadn't said anything. They never noticed a single thing, never suspected, never knew, until that day. In the conversations that day, although there were a lot of changes and things they had to adapt to, there had been no mention of names, I had stayed as Lindsey.

 "My name," I began after a long time of silence, "carries a lot of good memories. A lot of love and support and care and courage. I want those emotions in my new life."

 James gave me a fond smile this time and I felt my chest get warm. Why was he looking at me like that? I hadn't done anything for him to look that proud.

 "That's really good to know." James' voice was so soft right then. And I knew, that he was really happy with me right now. "Now, let's use our imagination. You ready?"

 "Yeah," I said with a smile because his happiness was really contagious.

 "So, suppose you have to change your name. Like, there's no choice. You're forced to pick a new name with which to live from now on. What would you pick?"

 When I heard that question, I began to sense where this whole conversation was going. But it was all still very blurry. So, I decided to keep on playing along with my boyfriend.

 "If I were forced to pick a name," I began, thinking out loud, "I would like something that's androgynous, a name that isn't necessarily identified with one or another particular gender. Like Taylor. But Taylor is a friend from work, and also we share some common friends, and it would be really confusing to have two Taylors suddenly, one a transgender man and the other a transgender woman. So, I wouldn't pick that one.

"Also, I want something that sounds elegant. Maybe Robin? But Robin is Batman's sidekick, and even though you're gorgeous, you're no Batman, honey. And I would only ever be your sidekick. Any other case I would damn well be the hero and protagonist."

 James laughed and watched me, his eyes still shiny, his smile still so soft, so tender. I arrogantly thought that he was falling in love with me, all over again.

 "So, something elegant," I went on, because looking at James was getting me side tracked and this was a very important topic. I wanted to sleep peacefully again, thank you very much! "Maybe Sam? No. I don't like it that much. Let me keep on thinking. You know what we really need right now? We should grab a phone and look up a list of gender neutral names!"

 "That would be cheating." James was laughing all over again, his heart not just on his sleeve, but on his face, on a silver platter lying right in front of him, offered for me to take and cherish and love. It was a good thing I did all that already. "You have to think of a name on your own."

 "You, mister, are absolutely no fun at all! I'm sure when the FBI has to reassign their victims to a new state and life and job, and those people have to choose a new name, they go to..."

 A name rang in my head. All of a sudden. Like lightning.

 "Tallas!" I cried excitedly. "That's the name I would choose! I read a book with a character named like that once. It was so good! And I adored the name ever since I saw it. The way it's written seemed beautiful to me, and the pronunciation as well. Ah, but it's not as good as Lindsey, though. But it would do. I wouldn't feel discontent at all if I had to change my name for Tallas."

 James laughed out loud. A big belly laugh. He had tears in his eyes and everything. I just sort of chuckled because his laugh was very contagious, but I was very confused.

 "What? What did I say?"

 "Baby." James took a deep breath and tried his hardest to reign in his laughter. "Will any name be as good as Lindsey for you?"

 Ah, that was easy to answer. No need to think.

 "No. I love my name. No name will ever compare, and I will probably never like it as much. In fact, I would be kind of sad to let it go if I were forced to change names."

 "Then you have your answer." James gave me that absolutely smitten and whipped look again and finally kissed me.

 I was dumbfounded at first, but then I retraced the whole conversation, everything I'd said, and the answer was obvious to me too. My lips split into a radiant smile and I threw myself into James' arms, as happy chuckles and giggles burbled out of me. He was right, I had my answer.

.

.

Prompt: 5. If you could pick another name, what would it be and why?

.

Previous Day Next Day

[youngjustus]

I really liked your Bart post, could you make a post about Tim, Kon and Cassie's personalities too?

i’m glad you liked my post! these are probably going to be shorter than my bart response since you’re asking for the other three at once, but

thankfully, i already have this comic vs cartoon meta typed up regarding conner here. there is a lot more i can say about conner in the comics than what i went over in this post, but i think that that’s enough to get a basic feel for who he is. but if you have any specific questions regarding some stuff i did or didn’t bring up in that post, you’re absolutely free to ask more about him.

for tim, the first trait of his that comes to my mind immediately is that he feels immensely guilty about literally everything, even things that couldn’t possibly be his fault. there are a lot, a lot of instances of other characters commenting on or telling him that he’s being too hard on himself!

(titans / young justice: graduation day #2, 2003)

he usually comes off as very serious and/or depressed a lot of times to others because of this - which isn’t to say that he’s never made a joke ever or done anything fun ever, because he has. (and this is also is not me saying that he is the only character ever that struggles with mental health.) he has a very hard time, for a long time, balancing his vigilante and civilian lives, and feels guilty lying to both parties. the most obvious case of this is with his dad and batman; tim feels a more father/son connection with bruce despite his own dad being alive (for a while at least), especially when there are other people who have it way worse than him. in addition, the secret identity thing is a huge plot point of young justice vol. 1, making for interesting trust dynamics between the team, especially with conner!

he’s very much in his own head, worries about everything, and very avoidant when it comes to his own feelings. this is shown in… almost every issue of all 4 volumes of robin, red robin, a lot of young justice issues, teen titans vol. 3, as well as some other misc comics he’s appeared in.

(adventure comics vol. 2 #3, 2009)

he is very lonely for a long time because of his parents being gone so often when he was a kid! this is why he projected so much onto and invested so much time into batman and robin, following their exploits. this is why he cared so much when he saw bruce slipping after jason died.

(robin vol. 4 #11, 1994)

i think it’s really important to remember that he says “look, i never wanted this for myself…” with reference to becoming robin. he makes the conscious decision to help someone because he can.

how i choose to interpret a lonely place of dying is a message of “you’re never really as alone as you perceive yourself to be, and someone always wants you in their life”, and i think that that applies to a lot of tim’s relationships with the other bats and the other members of the core four. he’s very grateful for them and knows in the back of his mind that he’d be worse off without them. (does he always remember this? no, but that’s a different and longer conversation.)

as for something that’s not sad or fake deep as hell, his sense of humour is often times very sarcastic, but can also be self deprecating and there is the occasional pun. he does make a number of pop culture references (but not nearly as many as conner); the one i can remember off the top of my head that always makes me laugh is him referencing elmer fudd from looney tunes (“be vewwy qwuiet! i’m hunting langstroms!”). he’s also usually the one at the end of a series with long inner monologues or speeches about the power of friendship, which i think is equally corny and sweet.

here is a really neat response to a fan letter in the back of an issue of robin, i think vol. 4:

unfortunately, i don’t remember what specific issue this is, but i felt it was worth sharing.

finally, as for cassie, i really love her and i’m honestly really sad that, of the four, she’s the only one who never got an on going solo series; she has two limited series that come to a total of 7 issues. (but i remember them being pretty good actually!)

anyways, the first things we learn about cassie in her debut are that she and her single mom have a rocky relationship, and she is very stubborn and a huge trouble maker.

(wonder woman vol. 2 #105, 1996)

her mom works at a museum as an archeologist and later we find out that her father is zeus. but before we and cassie learn that, cassie does meet him and asks him to grant “[her] fondest wish”, which, like most teenage girls, is to have super powers and work with her heroes.

(wonder woman vol. 2 #122, 1997)

she very intensely hero worships diana and donna (just as tim does with dick, and bart does with barry)! she even goes as far as to wear a black wig in her early days as wonder girl to not only help conceal her identity, but also to look more like the two of them. donna later gives cassie her old red wonder girl costume, which cassie carefully stores away and doesn’t wear because she doesn’t want to “ruin it” (the double entendre!).

cassie is not an amazon, not fully human, and not fully a god, so she, at times, feels out of place in her social circles. being accepted as an honourary amazon, being allowed to be wonder girl, fighting alongside diana and donna, being on the young justice team, being a titan, all means a lot to her - especially considering her relationships with her parents and the fact that she’s an only child.

like the three boys, cassie is very brave, and cares very deeply about everyone and everything! she’s a good leader, being team leader for both young justice and the titans, but, part of just how she is, and part of being a leader, she generally has a very hard time asking for help and coping in a healthy way with negative emotions; see fifty two, wonder girl vol. 1, and a lot of teen titans vol. 3 after issue #34.

(wonder woman vol. 3 #27, 2009)

(wonder girl vol. 2 #1, 2011)

Someone Hug Her More Please

i love that she’s kind of rowdy and that she loves beating up bad guys. she’s enthusiastic, and when she was younger she was very eager to prove herself. she’s very happy to be part of so many amazing things!

(young justice vol. 1 #7, 1999) (this is also why i hate the yj cartoon lol can you spot the tone difference??)

also she has a fucking sick special lasso that’s made of lightning that was gifted to her from ares, and it gets more powerful and intense the angrier she is. I Just Think That’s Neat.

anyways, uhhhh these are kind of abridged responses (i think i actually ended up making these as long as my bart one, whoops), but i hope that my explanations make some sense?? there’s a lot more i could say, but i’ve been working on this and leaving you hanging long enough.

i also hope that with that you can kind of start to see some similarities between them? and see why they’re such good friends? they’re all very grateful to have the people that they have in their lives, all struggle with mental health, all want so badly to do good, all want to be accepted, all have complicated relationships regarding the heroic legacy, etc. i really love them all!

[tessatechaitea]

Batman Loves Superman #3

Superman rubbing his nipples raw.

Maybe in this issue, Batman will figure out who the infected super heroes are by looking at the Batarang molds. But then again, probably not. Or he could just look at the solicits in Previews to see what special one-shot Infected comic books are being released in the near future. On the first page, Batman explains to the reader why he's an asshole.

This is why writers should stay out of the heads of the heroes they write. Because they suck at understanding them and can't help projecting their own beliefs onto the heroes.

Have I mentioned that I don't care for Joshua Williamson's writing style? In this scene, we see Batman explaining (to himself, I guess?) how trying to protect the world has led him down a dark path of invasion of privacy and broken trust. It's not totally Williamson's fault that he believes this is Batman. At some point, Batman became the greatest hero in the DC Universe because fangenders couldn't stop jerking themselves off about how he's just this normal man, you know, but he can defeat Superman! And to believe that, they had to believe that Batman is prepared to destroy every single hero in the DC Universe if it should come to that. Instead of just being this guy who is protecting Gotham and trying to serve justice, he's now this paranoid asshole who thinks he's the only person who can save the world. And being responsible for that means allowing yourself great latitude with your ethical and moral rationalizations. I'd argue that's not Batman though. That's what Batman has become as writers continually try to make sense of the character other writers have fucked up by trying to make sense of him. The logic goes like this: Batman was just a guy with loads of money and no super powers. That made him pretty bad-ass. Fans loved him and he made DC a lot of money. Fans believed Batman was smart enough to defeat any hero with super powers and that's what made him so great. So writers began portraying him as being so prepared for any situation that he could defeat any hero gone rogue. DC loved to make heroes go rogue because they don't understand the point of their own heroes. But Batman was always there to stop them! Unless it was Batman who went rogue. But that hardly ever happens because who could stop Batman?! Once it was established that Batman was prepared to defeat any hero, writers began thinking, "Wait. That means Batman has a whole arsenal of weapons to use the heroes' weaknesses against them. Who does that?! A big jerk, that's who!" Which means now writers felt they had to deal with the side of Batman that was betraying the trust of his friends by constantly plotting against them. And the next step? To show Batman himself being aware of what a huge asshole he is and dealing with it! Although if he saves the world, Batman doesn't really need to deal with the implications of his machinations, does he? He can just gloat and say, "I was right all along! Suck it!" Last issue, I thought Superman had put on some Bat-Make-Up and gone undercover as a fake Joker version of himself. It turns out, he actually poisoned himself to do it because the risk was worth it, I guess? What a great plan! Have the most dangerous man in the world struggle against turning evil! Hey, why not? It's not like anything bad can happen because this is a story written by a writer who can decide, "Superman is stronger than the poison and what makes him so great is his will to do the right thing!" It's not like it's written by a writer who might think, "Why would Superman and Batman choose this course of action? It's way too fucking risky!" Man, I wish this comic book were written by that writer. Superman thinks, "Batman hates this plan. Too risky." But Superman was all in on this plan? Well, I'm glad to know Superman is a bigger asshole than Batman in this comic book. Fucking arrogant bastard is willing to risk the entire world because, as Batman states as his reason to go along with this plan, "We're out of options." Are you though? Are you really? The Joker Who Laughs was captured and the only option was to free him? What about looking at the fucking molds to see what other symbols were carved on the Batarangs-That-Laugh? Okay fine. I guess I'll just accept that the symbols were carved onto the Batarangs-That-Laugh after they were molded. Although I'm absolutely certain that Josh Williamson never even considered it and he actually just fucked up the entire mystery by putting those symbols on the stupid things. Of course, The Batman Who Laughs knows they're trying to play him because he's an evil genius and that's the only way a mediocre writer knows how to write one. Wouldn't it have been nice to see the plan actually work for once and they get some information they can use out of him and The Batman Who Laughs says, "What?! No! How dare you?!" And then he escapes to try to escalate his plan because now the good guys know some of the extent of it? No? You'd rather have this trite, overdone bullshit? Okay, okay! I guess I'm wrong! Calm down! Continuing with this intriguing story that has me so intrigued my butthole has been clenched for the last ten minutes, Batman figures out another person infected by the Batman Who Laughs toxin is Commissioner Gordon. He figures this out from a clue given to him by The Batman Who Laughs. I figured it out two issues ago when Gordon laughed. Jeez, Batman. Take a detective course at Gotham Night College.

Batman is shocked — SHOCKED! — to discover somebody on the Batman Who Laughs toxin can be so darn mean.

The size of the above image, when I first scanned it, was 1776 pixels. That made me realize how crippling it must be for all those people who call into shows like Coast to Coast radio who see meaning in every fucking number they come across. I guess the above image was patriotic. Right up until I resized it down to 620 pixels! I know that statement would have had more impact if I resized it to a number that actually meant something (aside from the founding of Cholula, Mexico, of course). Gordon's stupid argument (it's also crazy because he's on stupid crazy toxin) is that Batman is the cause of all the chaos in Gotham. Obviously that's wrong but Batman's defense composed of jumping on Gordon's van and causing him to careen wildly about the streets and running people off the road before he yanks Gordon out of the van to send it crashing into a small pile of children isn't great. I mean, I don't know if the van hit a small pile of children or not. The point is, Batman doesn't fucking know what it crashed into either. This scene shows why writers blame Batman for causing all of the chaos in Gotham. It's because idiot fucking writers write him causing fucking chaos in Gotham. Then they blame the character they made do those things! Fucking fuckers!

Is this a reference to The Killing Joke? Is Gordon threatening to shoot his daughter in the back, take naked torture Polaroids of her, and then God knows what else? Is Joshua Williamson that disturbing of a human being? Hmm, maybe I finally respect him.

Superman arrives to help by destroying Gordon's Batsuit and Batman is all, "I'd rather die than get help from you!" But even though he says that, he remains alive so I suspect he actually kind of likes getting help from Superman. Gordon reveals his main complaint about Batman is the way Batman leaves in the middle of every conversation. It's an obvious joke to make but I'd suggest maybe this particular moment isn't the time for jokes! No wait. It's exactly the right time for jokes! Man, The Joker is confusing. Am I supposed to be scared and tense or doubled over in laughter? Maybe if Batman just laughed at a few of The Joker's jokes once in a while, The Joker would calm the fuck down. Instead of throwing Gordon's Batsuit into the bin behind the police station, Superman and Batman decide to overthink it. "Why would Gordon get out his Batsuit?" they wonder instead of thinking, "I guess Gordon needed extra fire power to battle us. But since Superman turned the Batsuit into a pile of metal, who cares? Get rid of it." Instead of assuming the obvious, they decide to take the suit back to the Fortress of Solitude to examine it. Examine it for what? Gordon was infected and he used his suit because he's a powerless old man. And guess what? That's just what the Batman Who Laughs wanted them to do! His plan was to realize that Superman and Batman would think the armor meant more than it does. And because of that, it does! Because hiding inside of it is Infected Blue Beetle! Ha ha! They fell right into his trap! What dumbies! Don't think I'm infected because I typed "Ha ha." I assure you, I wasn't really laughing. Or amused in the slightest. I was more sort of exasperated and angry that Williamson wrote such an unbelievable plot point just to get Blue Beetle inside the Fortress of Solitude to take it over. Batman Loves Superman #3 Final Thoughts: I hate myself because I'm going to keep reading this comic book. It is not well thought out at all. Sort of like my life which is maybe why I'm so intrigued by how it makes me feel (which is a kind of mix between self-loathing and horniness).

[gothamcitylazarus]

AND NOW YOU’RE IN THE SUNKEN PLACE 

DATE: July 19th, 2017

LOCATION: Jason’s mind

CHARACTERS INVOLVED: Jason Todd, Ra’s al Ghul, Bruce Wayne ( @darkcstkniqht ), Rachel Roth ( @xrachelroth )

Bruce: He couldn’t help but feel guilty for what had happened with Jason, especially with everything he. But now he had a plan. He wasn’t sure if it would work, but he was willing to try anything at this point. Following a tip off, he had taken Rachel to where Jason, or as he now was; Ra’s. He was sure that somewhere inside of that body his son was still there, still trying to escape. And he was determined to save him. As he got to the area he saw the figure and placed a hand on Rachel’s shoulder. “You stay there, you need to stay safe.” He stepped in front, walking towards him trying to keep his mind focused. Trying to remember this was not the wayward boy, but instead was a ruthless killing machine. “Ra’s! It is time for this to stop.”

Ra’s: He turned to the detective with a bemused expression on his features. From what he understood, there wasn’t anything the detective could do to bring Jason back, and that meant that Ra’s was damn near unstoppable. Bruce’s biggest weakness, in Ra’s’ eyes, was that he was too attached to the people around him. He wouldn’t be able to hurt Ra’s while he was in Jason’s body. What Ra’s didn’t realize was that the same attached, that love that Bruce felt for Jason meant that he would exhaust every avenue before giving up. Most things were reversible, and Ra’s’ possession of Jason was one of them. Ra’s just didn’t realize that yet. “You cannot stop me, Detective,” he said. “After everything that this city has done, it is time to watch it burn.”

Rachel: It was still mind boggling to Rachel, how she managed to get herself into situations like this. From her first Titans mission to extracting a soul, from one lightly lit street to the next, she wondered if there would come a day where her powers would no longer be of use. She thought it’d had. The day the ban was placed Rachel thought that was the end of it all, but as she walked alongside batman, as those familiar thoughts started to roll in that’s when she realized this was all but the beginning. The cloak, like always, was loosely placed over her head, enough to cover her features, yet not enough to keep er from being able to see. Quietly, she watched as Batman stepped towards the figure, the boy. If she hadn’t believed them before, the radiance coming off him would have been enough proof. This wasn’t good.

Bruce: “This city has done nothing.” Bruce scoffed at the man in front of him, knowing that despite what he said nothing would change his damaged morals. “It’s people like you, who come in and think they know what’s best for the place.” His head bobbed down as he struggled to look into Jay’s eyes. “And yet they never do.” It was time, and he knew it. There was no guarantee that they could save Jason, but he knew that as long as they got rid of Ra’s they would be doing the boy justice. He turned to the girl behind him and gave a small nod, not exactly knowing how this would work. “You’re wrong. It’s time for you to leave my son alone.”

Ra’s: He was tempted to laugh. Bruce always did lack the foresight to do what was necessary, always doing what he felt was right rather than what Ra’s knew to be necessary. That was the difference between them—Ra’s was willing to do what Bruce wouldn’t. He was willing to incite real change. “There’s nothing to be done, Detective,” he said. “The boy is gone.” He was tempted to laugh again. This was getting sad—he always getting children to do his bidding. “Brought another child to get to me? Why don’t you just admit defeat already?”

Rachel: Watching them, the tension was clear—yet if Rachel pushed just a little more, she could tap into just how complicated this whole situation really was. Both had such strong emotions buried deep inside it reminded Rachel of her training with Azar and for just a split second she felt, for lack of a better comparison, homesick. There was so much that they both buried beneath the surface, so much that wasn’t going to be said. She didn’t need more than a nod to know that was her cue, to know it was her turn to say something. Under her breath, the familiar phrase escaped through her lips. “Azarath Metrion … ZINTHOS.”

Bruce: It was typical that Ra’s presumed he had already won. That was probably his biggest downfall, he would never see an opponent as a serious threat. But he wasn’t going to carry on the argument that would not end in his favour no matter what. He wouldn’t be able to describe how his body felt as he was projected into the mind of the man in front of him. But as he gathered his bearings, and clocked onto the pit, where at the bottom he could see his son, he felt his strength rise as he had the new found hope. “Jason. I’m here. I’m getting you out.” That was the one thing that Ra’s would never have. He would never possess the feeling of having somebody the fight for. Knowing that you can’t give up on them. “I think this is a much fairer fight, don’t you agree?”

Ra’s: He may have seen a lot of things coming, but this was not one of them. Suddenly, he was older, and they were no longer out in the real world, they were in a space filled with stars and an inky blackness that he couldn’t explain but could definitely touch and feel. He looked down at his hands, wrinkled and shaking, touched his face and felt the creases around his lips. “I still taught you, Detective,” he said, composing himself quickly. Never let them see you sweat. He straightened, not raising his fists yet but knowing that he would have to in a moment. “I can still beat you.”

Rachel: It didn’t take long for them to be inside, for the playing ground to be set in a much more even field. Then again, as the four of them stood there Raven could feel her soul-self itching to get out, waiting for her powers to fee take over. With pressed lips, she turned towards Batman, the tall figure leaving her feeling even smaller since they entered. “Half an hour, that’s as long as I can keep us in here.” She didn’t say that was all the time he’d have, but judging by the look of determination on his face, she didn’t have to.

Jason: He immediately jumped up as soon as he heard something going on. He dragged himself to his feet, staring up at the mouth of the pit where he had been thrown and reaching his hands up for someone to pull him out. “Bruce. Fuck—Bruce, get me out of here!” he yelled as Bruce straightened up away from the pit, needing nothing more than to freed from that pit—the claustrophobia was unimaginably bad—and to take control of his own mind. He collapsed against the side of the pit again, staring up at the light up above and finally feeling like there might be hope.

Bruce:  That voice; the voice of his son was enough to ignore what Ra’s was saying. He didn’t need to hear the deluded ignorance of his ego, and it didn’t deserve an answer. He was outnumbered, but he didn’t see the other two as a threat which would be his biggest downfall. Thirty minutes. With how he was feeling that was more than enough time. “We’ll get you Jason.” He looked to Rachel, wanted to deal with Ra’s himself, passing her the grapple hook from his utility belt. “Your time is over.” He told the older man, before landing a punch square in the jaw.

Ra’s: He put his hands up to block the punch to his jaw, but it was no use—while he managed to keep up the fight for much longer than anyone his age should have been able to, the fact of the matter was that his mind was old and fractured—it had grown weak over centuries of existence, and before he knew it, he was falling. When he hit the ground, he vanished in a puff of light smoke, his mind and soul left to float aimlessly, body-less. It would be a long time before he’d be able to get back.

Rachel: Rachel saw the hook as an unspoken plea to stay behind. If batman wanted to do this himself she would trust that he knew what he was doing, this was his battle anyway. With her hands firmly against the metal Rachel let out a breath, her soul self existing from inside her and flying toward the scene-- she wouldn't have it interfere, not unless it was truly necessary.

Jason: He looked up at Rachel and reached his hand up. “Toss me the hook,” he said. “Throw the hook down here, I can get out.” He almost sounded like he was pleading with her—being so close to being out without being able to do anything was driving him crazy at this point. He just needed to get out, needed to get control of his own mind, and the only way he could do that is if he first got out of this goddamn pit and managed to breathe again.

Bruce: For a moment Bruce stood there in shock, trying to make sense of everything that just happened. But it didn’t matter because he was gone. He had finally been given the chance to save his son and he hadn’t managed to fuck it up in some way or another. He ran over to the pit, looking down at Jason, as he took off his cowl. “You don’t have to worry any more, he’s not here. We’re getting you out.” A laugh of disbelief left his lips as he turned to Rachel to get him out, just wanting his son back with him.

Rachel: When the words left Jason’s lips the action suddenly felt obvious. The hook, of course. Without a second of hesitation her eyes flickered shut and Rachel’s soul self was flying down alongside the hook, making sure there weren't any more tricks up Ra’s sleeve. This was so close to being finished, to ending on a good note-- something she wondered if any of them had in awhile. When her eyes opened Rachel saw a change in Batman. He was no longer a masked hero doing good, he was just normal, someone trying to keep his family together, someone trying to stay together.

Jason: He caught the hook easily, looking up at Rachel with a look of absolute relief on his grimy, sweaty face. “Thank you.” The words never left Jason’s lips easily, he had never been one to express his gratitude in that way. If ever, he always showed it through his actions, not through his words, and he was never, ever one to admit that he needed help, especially not from Bruce. But he had needed it this time, and Bruce wasn’t too late. The fleeting thought that this could be Bruce’s redemption floated through his mind, but Jason pushed it away, He still hadn’t forgiven Bruce. Maybe he never would, not completely. Jason tossed the hook up to grab onto the edge of the pit, dragging himself up to the top. When he finally got there, he was on his knees, wrapping his arms around Bruce like he was a little kid again and holding onto him as tightly as he could. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so, sorry.” What was he sorry for? He wasn’t sure, but he definitely felt guilty.

Bruce: He didn’t know what to do at first, as his son made his way up from the prison he had been trapped in for so long. Emotions weren’t exactly a strong suit of Bruce’s, he felt a lot but he didn’t know how to express them in healthy way. But he didn’t have to do anything, because before he could even react Jason had wrapped himself around him. “Don’t you dare apologise.” His voice was gruff, even more so than usual as he tried to suppress the urge to cry. He knew that he had to be strong in this moment; well he always had to be strong. Especially for Jason, who rarely let down his guard. Getting down onto his knees with the boy he pulled him into an embrace, seeing just how scared he was. “You’re safe now, he can’t get you again. I’ve got you okay.”

Rachel: And that was it. In the blink of an eye it was done, they were done. All at once the the same feelings Rachel had felt after a victory were coming back-- after all those years with the titans, after all those years trying to blend in it seemed they've come full circle. The ban had done a good job at keeping the heroes away, but it’d failed against the villains. It wasn't until Rachel shut her emotions off that the ones around her became even louder. What the two felt for each other was far more complex than most, Rachel even with her emotion based powers couldn't begin to tap into that. With her hood back over her head and her selfs back together she kept her gaze on Ra as she softly let out the familiar phrase once again, finally transporting them out and back into normality.

[onehaleofanadventure]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandoms: DCU, Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics) Relationship: Tim Drake/Jason Todd

Summary: 

Oh, what problems is causes when your boyfriend find someone else's lace in your bed.

Tim had no reason to be so nervous. It was just Jason. Every Tuesday night he stops by Tim’s apartment for a while. Tim is certain it’s not a date-date, it’s just free food and conversation with someone intelligent. The only problem is that Tim has had this embarrassing crush on Jason pretty much forever, he refuses to let himself project his stupid unrequited feelings onto Jason. If Jason was interested, he would have done something years ago.  

All the being said, something feels weird about tonight though. Jason isn’t coming straight from work, he had the night off. If feels different, more special, like he really wants something with Tim, but that is most definitely Tim projecting.  

That doesn’t change the fact that he had spent all morning obsessively cleaning the mess he and Steph had made this weekend. Well, mostly Steph, the girl was a hot mess on a good day, and so much worse when drunk. Also, she had the very uncomfortable habit of climbing into bed with Tim to cuddle in the middle of the night.  

Speak of the devil, “Hey, boyfriend.” Steph greeted, both too loud and cheerful for Tim‘s current inner turmoil.  

Tim just sighed, long since having given up on trying to get her to stop calling him that, despite how awkward it was since they’d broken up so long ago. “I love you. You know this. But I have plans that I will not be canceling for any reason other than life-threatening emergency.”

Steph giggled, “I know. Netflix and chill with the boyfriend!”

“Steph,” Tim groaned.  

“I know, I know. He’s not your boyfriend, and, Netflix and chill is sex and we do not have sex, which is a huge mistake on your part. A man that strong, that big,” she hummed suggestively, “I bet the sex would be fantastic.”

Tim spluttered, blushing fiercely as Steph cackled in his ear. “Anyway, I’m not calling for plans. I’m calling because I left my favorite, lucky eggplant bra and panties there. So I’ll be by tomorrow to grab, or more likely find—knowing your cleaning habits—them.”

“Hey!” Tim squawked indignantly. “I’ve cleaned, and I—“

“In that case, I’m sure you’ve found them, so no wearing them! I know how you like the feeling of the lace against you skin.”

Tim spluttered again, flushing even brighter and hiding his face despite Stephanie not being here to see him. He tried to say something, but decided it would be better to just hang up on his still cackling best friend.  

Jason was due to arrive in less than an hour—it’s not that they have a specific meeting time, they just tend to meet at almost the same time every week—and he still has so much to do.  

Jason, timely as always, arrives at exactly a quarter past eleven wearing a dopey grin and exclaiming, “Timmy, I brought sustenance!” while gently shaking a brown paper bag, with the logo of a Japanese restaurant down the street, in his face—it’s one of Tim’s favorite restaurants, which he told Jason once a long time ago.  

Tim blushes at the insinuation that Jason remembers such insignificant details about him, taking the bag and heading towards the kitchen. He hears Jason chuckle as the front door closes and locks, Jason’s surprisingly quiet, now bootless, footsteps padding after him, the lack of noise also implying the removal of his signature leather jacket.  

“So,” Jason starts, causing irrational anxiety to bubble in Tim’s stomach, “don’t know if you’ve been outside recently, but it’s fucking cold. I think my hands are going to fall off.”

Tim mindlessly “tsks” at the curse, immediately yelping—and nearly dropping the plates he was pulling out for the food—as said cold hands find their way under his sweater and blushing as the rest of Jason presses right up against his back. He sets the plates down, intent on pushing Jason’s now wandering hands away, but find himself too distracted to anything more than shiver as Jason whispers, warm and rough, into his ear. “Don’t worry about plates, Babybird. Just grab silverware and come cuddle me warm.”

Tim starts to stutter out a response, but as Jason’s big hands slide off his tight—and now cold—stomach he decides he’d rather just listen: cuddling seems like the perfect idea.

Tim grabs the food, a fork for him, and an extra for Jason, though he knows Jason will use the chopsticks from the restaurant. He turns, heading back to his living room and stops short, gaping at Jason, who was bent over at the waist, digging through the closet that usually held all his spare blankets.  

Usually being the key word. He’d thrown all the ones from his bed in the wash this morning, and taken the extras out of the closet to sleep with tonight.  

“Hey Timbers,” Jason calls, turning and forcing Tim to snaps his eyes to Jason’s face rather than continuing his trek down the hard lines of his thick-muscled thighs. Jason smiles indulgently, though Tim misses the look, trying to appear as if he’s meeting Jason’s eyes without actually doing so. “So, where are all the blankets?”

“O-Oh,” Tim stuttered, silently cursing his nerves and finally putting the food down to hide the bright red splotches no doubt obvious on his pale skin. “I, um, I’m washing them. Steph kind of made a huge mess of the ones that were on my bed.”

Tim, still fiddling with the food now on his coffee table, misses the slight flinch and the way Jason’s smile turns forced at the mention of Steph in his bed. However, he looks up at the slight edge now in Jason’s voice. “So,” Jason hums, clearing his throat, though the usual warmth doesn’t fully return, “proper cuddles need blankets, and I’m still freezing.”

“Right, ummm…. We could go to my room?”  

Jason narrows his eyes, tone suspicious when he asks “You sure that’s okay?”

Tim doesn’t really understand his caution, but confidently blurts out, “Yeah! I mean, yes. As long as we don’t spill anything it’ll be fine. And I have Netflix in there, too, so it’s all good.” The idea of Jason in his bed, no matter how innocent, is too exciting and tempting an option to refuse, despite the weird look Jason has.  

“Whatever you say, Timbers.” Jason’s tone is still off, but he’s picking up the food and gesturing, “lead the way.”

Tim shrugs, leading them down the hallway that opens to the master bedroom. This isn’t the first time Jason has acted weird around him—in fact, the entire first year of their friendship was them awkwardly getting over misunderstanding that caused them to dislike each other—so, maybe he just had a weird day.  

They even been watching all the occult and sci-fi movies that they could find. They finished the Underworld series in them for the new movie and Tim dragged Jason out to see it. They only have two more Resident Evil movies to go, and then Tim will have to convince Jason to go see that in theaters, too.  

He let’s Jason settle the food on the nightstands and rearrange the blankets while he sets up Netflix and finds the appropriate movie. The settle in the bed, their food in their laps as Tim leans slightly against Jason; by the time they finish their food, the tension is gone, replaced with Jason’s sarcastic comments about weapons and Tim’s snide comments about movie science.

Nearing the end of the their first movie of the night, Tim is practically in Jason’s lap, with one hand braced on those spectacular thighs and the other rest against his overstuffed stomach. Jason sits with one leg bent at the knee and the other outstretched, one arm behind his head in the headboard and the other rubbing hypnotic circles into the sweater over Tim’s hip.  

Tim wiggles a little, turning his head to look at Jason. He wasn’t expecting Jason’s piercing teal eyes to already be looking at him, the intensity and proximity leave him breathless. Tim ducks his eyes, feeling fidgety under Jason’s gaze, but he gets caught on Jason’s plump, soft looking lips. He really can’t help himself, and licks his lips and can’t help but imagine how warm those lips would feel on his.  

Tim can’t really think past his desire and the desire he can see clearly coming off Jason. He spins around, so he’s kneeling between Jason’s legs, and reaches out slide his hand along the rough stumbled sprouting from Jason’s jaw.  

Suddenly, Jason lurches forward, pressing surprisingly soft lips against Tim’s. They shift and tug at shirts and bedding, only breaking when Tim needs to breathe. Jason flips them, so Tim arched underneath Jason and the mouth locked onto his throat. Just as suddenly, Jason is pulling away with a careful blank looks that is at odds with the attractive flush on his lightly tanned cheeks.  

Tim makes a protesting noise and pushes back towards Jason’s mouth, only to freeze as Jason lifts up a suspicious purple lingerie set, bra clinging to the lacy panties in a way that is sure to annoy Steph.  

Tim pulled them off Jason’s hand and tossed them off to the side, smiling sweetly as he once again tried to return to kissing. This time, however, Jason pushed himself up into a sitting position. Tim made a question noise and tried to meet the gaze hovering studiously to the left if his face. “It’s, uhh, it’s getting late, Tim. I think I should get going.”

“But, Jay… It’s not that… We haven’t even finished the last movie.” The confusion was evident in his tone, he just didn’t know how to voice the question he really wanted to ask. It’s not that late, why are you leaving? and what did I do wrong? or maybe just everything was good, what just happened?

“I know. And I’m sorry, Tim. It’s just, uhh, I’m really tired. It’s just been kind of a long, and disappointing day, is all.” Jason sighed, “ we can totally finish this up another time.”

“Oh, um, okay.” Tim scrambled off the bed, following Jason as he all but marched to the front door. He yanked his boots on and didn’t even finish putting his jacket on before he opened the front door. The blast of cold air jolted Tim out of his temporary stupor, “So, umm, I’ll see you next week? Hope you feel better?” Tim was still so confused about what was happening here, and Jason leaving kind of felt like rejection—like maybe Tim shouldn’t have kissed him—which makes no sense because Jason kissed him.  

It’s been almost three weeks since Jason left, and he hasn’t been back. He sends exactly one text every Tuesday morning with a less believable excuse for why he can’t show up this week. Tim would be worried, anxious to check on him, except Dick frequents the coffee shop Jay writes at when he has time or is feeling inspired; and apparently he’s been there often. Maybe his excuses are true, but Tim can’t help but feel as if Jason is purposely avoiding him.  

Which explains how he let Steph talk him into getting sloppy drunk and telling her all about it—“and then we made out. For a—hic—while. I mean it was like ten min—hic—utes, thats a while, right?”

Steph, curse her, wasn’t drinking, well not drinking to get drunk, citing an important interview tomorrow. “Yeah, Timmy, that’s a while. So he just left?”

“Y-yeah.” Tim sniffled.  

Steph hummed, “I mean, I know I’ve barely ever met the guy, but he doesn’t really seem like the type to ditch. Especially since he is clearly interested.”  

“He’s not—“

“I mean, he kissed you, he’s totally interested. You don’t just kiss people you aren’t at least a little interested in. So it just seems weird that he’d just leave and not come back.”

“But-hic-but that’s exactly what happ—ppened!” Tim whined, pretending he doesn’t sound as pathetic as he feels.  

“Exactly?” Steph hummed. “So you were making out and then he just got up and left. No arguing or anything. I know you’re not the best as social cues—you make up for it with how cute you are when you’re flustered—but are you sure you didn’t miss anything?”

“No. Kissing. He found your purple thong. Said he was tired. Left.” Tim garbled out, most of the words unintelligible from the shots he was downing.  

“And you didn’t think to explain to your boyfriend why there was a thong in your bed?” Steph shrieks.  

“No?” Tim pouts, completely lost. Jason knows Steph, well, he knows about her. He was around for their entire relationship and knows that Tim still loves her even though he’s no longer in love with her.  

“You idiot.” Steph sighs, slumping onto the table and muttering to herself. “Okay, here’s what is going to happen. You are going to go sleep off the alcohol, then you’re going to call your brother and get his help to find Jason. Then, you’re going to talk to Jason, and explain to him that we are not now or ever going to date again.”

The hangover is mostly gone by the time Dick calls back and says that Jason is at the coffee shop. He still feels like retching after running down the street to get there. For some reason, he’s nervous—which makes no sense, it’s Jason. And probably going to be a good moment for their relationship.  

Tim pauses outside the door, quietly following an elderly couple through the glass door, and silently cursing the jingly bell overhead that announces someone’s entrance. He sees Dick in the corner and makes his way over when he starts waving.

“Hey, Dick. Where’s Jay?” He feels a little bad about the lack of interest in his brother, but they all know that Tim is in this hole-in-the-wall coffee shop, on the other side of Gotham, because he wants to see Jason.  

Dick points off to the corner, where Tim can see a head of dark, slightly curly, hair with a strange white streak. Now that he’s looking, he can also see the minute twitching in his shoulders that signifies rapid typing.  

He takes a deep, steadying breath, says “Thanks, Dick” and marches off towards Jason.  

“Jay? Umm, are you busy? Can I…umm…talk to you for a few minutes.” He resolutely ignores Jason’s tiny twitch and keeps looking at him.  

Jason turns towards him, “Tim…” his tone is almost warning, “look, I don’t think is a good—“

Tim made a promise to Steph. He’s going to stick it out. And maybe Steph is right. Maybe it’ll all work out for him.  

“Steph said—I mean, it had come to my attention that I need to explain some things.”

“You don’t need to explain. I’m pretty sure I figured everything out.” The rapid flash of hurt across his face made Tim’s heart ache and a hot ball of guilt form in his chest. “I get it, you know. Blondie, she’s—she’s pretty amazing. Gorgeous. Smart. Been your best friend for a long time. I’m fine with being someone’s experimentation—I happily support experimentation—but I’m not okay with being someone’s dirty little secret.”

“You’re not—“

“You should’ve told me. And you definitely shouldn’t have let me kiss you. I think it’s best if we stay away from each other for a while. I don’t want—“

“We aren’t dating!” Tim can feel his cheeks flaring. But he had to get Jason to stop talking. “I mean… Steph and I. We aren’t dating. We broke up, like a year ago, remember? Right. Ummm, so it was actually dating Steph that made me realize I was more into men. Not that Steph isn’t amazing! And beautiful. But… umm. I was—am more interested in you, actually.” Tim was simultaneously hoping Jason did and didn’t understand the mumbles of his last sentence.  

“Oh, umm.” Watching Jason stutter and flush softly was well worth the embarrassment of this conversation in such a public place. “I guess I shouldn’t have—I’m pretty interested in you, too.” The usual, smugly smirk was more than comforting after so long. “I’d even—“

Tim still doesn’t know what possessed him to do it, but he flung himself forward, clumsily pressing lips and tongue and teeth against Jason, silencing whatever he was about to say.

Tim pulled back, only somewhat embarrassed about being in Jason’s lap, and not at all willing to move. He smiled up shyly, peppering kisses across Jason’s face and lips. “I’m sorry I’m such an idiot.”  

Jason’s warm laugh and soft, crooked smile was, hands-down, the best part of Tim’s month.