#some supervillain nonsense

[cat-lady-spinster]

This is a neat way to die

[theshadowrealmitself]

A Human waking up in the future and seeing the Vulcan High Council would definitely, 100%, make the comparison to supervillains, especially with their, what the fuck would you even call that, their council room?

[philcoulsonismyhero]

There's something really very entertaining to me about the fact that, whenever I think too hard about DCTV Eobard Thawne or rewatch basically any of his scenes, I start flapping one or both of my hands up and down so fast I'm almost making ominous helicopter noises of my own. Feels right, feels appropriate

[mokulule]

Meet Cult

Dead on MAYn - Day 2

Prompt: Jason and Danny abducted by the same cult. No warnings apply.

This was a bad day, was Jason’s first thought as he became aware.

“Oh you’re awake, how are you feeling? That’s a nasty gash on your head,” a voice told him worried.

Jason slowly blinked his eyes into focus. He had the worst headache and when he grimaced he felt something stiff and crusty pull at his skin - dried blood. His arms were tied to a metal pole of sorts behind him which is what had kept him in a kneeling position while unconscious.

A young man slowly came into focus in the dim light. He had dark hair and light eyes, but actual color wasn’t possible to really tell. He was wearing just a simple light t-shirt and shorts, sitting similarly tied to Jason. If he’d been there for any length of time he had to be chilled from the concrete. Jason at least wore sturdy pants which added a bit of insulation.

What had happened?

Jason had been… shopping? Yeah that sounded about right. And then- nothing.

“Hey, please tell me they didn’t knock you entirely senseless?”

Jason focused back on the other… hostage? “What do you know?”

There was a flash of white as he grinned. “I know they came back with you sporting bloodied noses and mr stick up his ass probably have a broken wrist.”

“Who are they?” Jason spoke lowly, looking around, but the room they were in was a basement room only way in was a heavy metal door. Only the barest of light shone through the cracks of an otherwise barred window. There was no one but the two of them.

“Some weirdo cultists.”

Jason must have shown his surprise on his face, because he continued.

“Didn’t expect that, huh?”

“I thought it was just a normal kidnapping.”

“You get kidnapped enough for there to be normal kidnappings?” The man asked eyebrows raising up past his messy bangs.

“Not as such, but my adoptive father is something of a big deal in Gotham so there’s a risk.”

The other thought that over for a moment with a worried frown, before speaking, “I’m sorry you got caught up in this weirdness.”

“And what about you?” Jason asked.

“Me?” He tilted his head.

“You seem remarkably calm about this?”

That earned Jason a chuckle.

“Yeah well you could say it’s not my first rodeo either. I get involved in a shocking amount of weirdness for someone who’s just trying to get a degree.”

He had the sort of smile that invited Jason to share in the joke. Jason gave him a smirk of his own.

“Actually with a degree in Gotham chances are high of becoming a supervillain.”His smile fell as he stared at Jason in shock.

“You’re shitting me.”

Jason shook his head and leaned back against his metal pole, unfolding his legs to get a modicum of comfort.

“Shockingly high amount of PhD’s amongst the rogues,” Jason explained.

That startled a laugh out of the man. He had a nice laugh. “Should have picked another city then I guess.”

“And miss meeting me in some cult’s basement?” The words escaped Jason before he’d even had a chance to consider them, it was just too tempting to banter with this man. Only the sudden silence made him realize he was flirting.

The man tilted his head slightly and gave Jason a thoughtful look. Jason found himself tensing, holding his breath, but then a smile spread slowly over the man’s lips, and Jason could breathe again.

“You know what, you’re right. I’m Danny.”

“Jason.”

“Nice to meet you, Jason.” It was said so honestly, with no hint of joking, words soft like a caress, that Jason’s breath hitched. He scrambled to get his thoughts in order. He didn’t know how to respond.

Thankfully Danny, didn’t seem to need a response.

“Urgh, you know what? Let’s get out of here. I usually stick around to see what nonsense they’re trying to do, but I’m not feeling charitable today.” With that Danny pulled his hands in front of him and pushed himself to his feet - as if nobody had bothered tying him up at all.

The action thankfully pushed Jason back into an analytical mindset. He either had training or- “Powers?”

“A few.” Danny winked at him and to his embarrassment he felt his cheeks heating - so much for the analytical mindset. Danny moved over to start to untie Jason. His hands were cold and Jason’s earlier assumption that he was chilled from the floor seemed proved. He needed to keep his mind on track and not think of the way cool fingers brushed against the insides of his wrists. Without using his powers, as he’d clearly done to get himself free, Danny was not fast.

“You shouldn’t show them off, Gotham has a real problem with traffickers.”

“Not to mention death-cults, which somehow nobody warns you about.” Danny shot right back with a put-upon sigh.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I,” Danny ducked back in front of Jason, “if I had known the amount of supernatural shit going on- well,” Danny shrugged, “I would have probably still taken that scholarship, because beggars can’t be choosers, but I would have had warning.”

Danny went back to untying with a cursed, “idiots really mad at you fighting them, what’s up with all these fucking knots! This might feel weird.”

There was a strange liquid sensation in his wrists and forearms and then he was free. He brought his arms back to his front to inspect the damage. His fingers tingled and throbbed as he flexed them, and he had a bad case of rope burn running from wrists up his forearms. They really hadn’t liked him fighting them indeed. He’d been no where near loosing his hands or fingers, but it had been a risk if he’d been tied up too long.

Not that he’d have let it get that far, he’d have slipped out way beforehand.

Cool hands laid themselves on top of his wrists and gripped him gently. A soothing sort of cool energy seemed to seep into his skin chasing away the pain and numbness and Jason was forced to reevaluate his “chilled” theory. The cold might have to do with his powers.

Jason looked up and Danny’s face was very close. The tips of their noses were inches apart. Danny’s eyes were very blue, the light had to hit them just right right now, it was almost like the glowed.

“You really shouldn’t use your powers so obviously,” he cautioned absently, as his eyes traced the thin barely visible white scars on the left side of Danny’s face; they grew over his skin, organic like vines on a trellis - or like lightning. As if the thought had summoned it, he could suddenly smell ozone, wild, like power rippling under the surface barely held back.

“Are you going to traffic me, Jason?”

For a moment the words didn’t register. He was too busy watching Danny’s lips move. Too caught up in that power he felt. What had Danny said? This wasn’t the first time a cult went for him? A death cult? He didn’t want to stick around to be charitable today? He’d never really been a captive.

What was he?

Danny let go of him as if burned and stepped back. The sense of power disappeared just as suddenly, leaving Jason reeling with the sudden emptiness. He felt as if he’d been dropped into a desert with emptiness stretching for miles in every direction.

“I’m sorry,” Danny said, “I didn’t mean to scare you. Most people don’t-“ He cut himself off.

Jason swallowed, realizing he had been scared, and pushed himself to his feet. He felt wobbly and disoriented, disconnected.

“Most people what?” He demanded, when he finally felt stable on his feet.

Danny looked at him with a worried frown. “Most people don’t feel my power at all. You’re either magic…”

There was an “or” clearly missing. Jason didn’t know why, but he knew he had to know. “Or?”

“This is really not the best place for this,” Danny hedged looking around them with a grimace.

Jason stepped forward and grabbed his arms. The power was back, though more muted than before, like it was hiding behind layers of fabric.

“Or?” He demanded.

Danny looked up at him a strange expression on his face. “Or, you have more than a passing familiarity with death.”

It felt like the ground dropped out from under Jason’s feet, that first rush of air of a fall. Yet, somehow he was still standing. Danny’s hands gripping his arms hard in return was the reason. He gave Jason a small shake and when Jason sorta focused on him, he said, “This is not an empty stomach sort of conversation. Least I know why they grabbed you too. Come on.”

And with those words suddenly they were flying up through the ceiling and the next ceiling and the next, it became a blur until suddenly they were outside in fresh air high above the city. Jason moved his legs in a startled motion, but nothing happened. He was weightless, Danny’s hold on him was light. That cool energy was flowing through him again, but this time it was his whole body.

The view of Gotham stretched out below them, behind them was the harbor, they’d been in one of the many more or less abandoned buildings that dotted the area between harbor and city proper. Too many gun fights broke out in the area over shipments of various illegal items for any legal businesses to want to rent those buildings for any substantial amount of time, which explained how a (death?) cult had set up shop.

Jason was very carefully ignoring the fact that he was flying. It wasn’t the first time he’d flown with someone - those other times however he’d still been able to feel gravity, now he was weightless. The air might as well have been water, though it didn’t press on him.

The view of Gotham was breathtaking from up here. Evening was closing in on a rare day with few clouds for Gotham which meant blue actually peeked through in spots.

Danny sent him a grin and Jason’s stomach did a flip. When Danny moved so he only held Jason’s hand, Jason noticed they were both somewhat see-through.

“Are we invisible?” He asked.

“Sure are, don’t wanna catch unwanted attention.”

With those words Danny flew them through the city until they came to a flat topped roof in view of the Gotham U campus. He set Jason down and held his hand until he was steady on his feet as gravity reasserted itself on his body, like a heavy blanket.

“I know a good burger place nearby.” Danny had said he was a student, with Gotham U in view that supported the claim. Danny continued speaking, “I will return with food, but if you want to leave in the mean time-“ He nodded towards the roof access and gave a shrug- “otherwise I will explain things once we have eaten. Any allergies or dislikes?”

Jason numbly shook his head. Danny faded away like a mirage, leaving Jason with just the view of the old campus buildings.

Jason sat down to wait. Danny had given him an out, but there was no way Jason could let this go. Not just because of his training, but because he needed to know. If Danny knew anything of what had brought Jason back…

Of course it occurred to him that Danny might have just fled himself, it would have been the smart thing to do. He had no obligation to tell Jason anything, Jason was a stranger. But somehow Jason knew Danny wouldn’t have said he’d be coming back if he wasn’t.

Jason’s gut feeling was ratified when Danny returned about 20 minutes later, brandishing a large paper bag and two milkshakes as he turned visible. Somehow Jason had felt he was there just a moment before he turned into visibility, like a prickle on his skin - it was something to examine later.

Danny had brought them both cheeseburgers and fries. The burgers were juicy and the fries crisp and spiced. Jason felt more real, more himself with hot food in his belly. Danny had given him the choice between the cherry or the pistachio milkshake as he set down beside Jason. He had chosen the cherry - it was good. With those flavor options he had to wonder what more options they had.

When their impromptu rooftop picnic was done, aside from the last of their milkshakes. Jason’s eye were drawn to Danny’s calloused hands, where they fiddled nervously with the straw.

Something was building, there was a grim set to Danny mouth and Jason was suddenly uncertain if he really wanted an explanation at all. Danny had powers that Jason could feel because they were death related, so what? That was an explanation of a sort already.

“I died when I was fourteen.”

The statement was like a punch to the gut, and Jason felt just as breathless. He snapped his head to Danny, about to tell him that he really didn’t have to tell him that, but Danny held up a hand. He met Jason’s eyes squarely, somehow conveying that it was okay, that he wanted to share this.

“An interdimensional portal opened up right on top of me, killing me, but all that energy also revived me, killed me again and revived me over an over…” His eyes slid from Jason to the skyline haunted and empty. He clenched his fists and took a deep breath, then looked to Jason again. “It left me somewhere in the middle, both dead and alive and neither all at the same time.”

Jason didn’t know what to say. The weight of the trust Danny was showing him by telling him about his death, was heavy like an anchor rooting him to the spot.

“These days,” Danny continued in a lighter tone, “I consider myself something of a bridge between the spirit and the living world. I help where I can in between trying to live and I get to be kidnapped by death cults because of my energy.” Danny shrugged carelessly, but the pinched eyebrows gave away how anxious he was about Jason’s reaction.

It was honestly not the strangest story Jason had ever heard. The world was a strange place what was one more addition to the tapestry that was Jason’s life? A thought occured to him. He carefully looked out over the city - the sunset painted the sky red in between the skyscrapers - and steeled his voice neutral.

“A bridge huh? Between the physical and the spirit world…”

“Yeah.”

“Do you also master all four elements?”

“No, mostly just ice- wait a moment,” Danny’s head snapped to face him as he caught on to the Avatar joke and he promptly punched his shoulder.

Jason laughed.

“It is not funny!” Danny insisted, yet he had to cover his mouth to muffle the laughter that wanted to escape. For a moment his shoulders quaked in silence but then he gave in and laughed.

“Fuck you, Jason, I was trying to handle this conversation respectful of the heavy subject.” Then almost as afterthought he muttered, “Ancients, I never thought of it like that.”

He leaned all the way back until he was lying on the roof, looking up to the sky. Jason followed suit.

“I don’t want to talk about my death,” Jason admitted.

“That’s alright. It’s not the sort of thing you ask a spirit to share, it has to be freely given.”

Jason turned his head to look at Danny.

“Is that what I am? A spirit?”

“I’m not entirely sure, I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

Jason should probably ask him to elaborate, milk him for all the information he had. Danny was a being with still unknown powers in Gotham, Bruce would be unbearable if he learned. But Danny didn’t feel like a threat to him and Jason was tired of asking questions.

From next to him he heard a sigh.

“For a moment back there,” Danny started a wistful note in his voice, “I actually thought I might be getting lucky tonight.”

Jason snorted at the unexpected subject change. He hesitated for a moment, but then threw caution to the wind. “Who says you aren’t?”

Danny sat up so fast he jumped a foot off the ground - he didn’t even seem to notice the fact he was still hovering as he turned around in the air to face him hovering above him. “You gotta be yanking my tail! After all this?”

Jason shrugged, deliberately moving his arms a bit higher where they pillowed his head. He smirked, delighted at the way Danny’s eyes were drawn to the sliver of skin revealed as his shirt drew up.

“I, uh-“

Something occurred to Jason. “Do you have a tail to yank?”

This time it was Danny’s turn to smirk, his teeth were distinctly sharper than they had been a moment ago. Jason’s mouth went dry.

“Sometimes, when I want to.”

Jason had almost forgotten what question he had asked. When it sunk in he blushed at the implication he could change his shape. Trying to regain his composure, he teased, “So it’s a deliberate choice to be a skinny twink?”

Danny flicked his nose for that. “No, this is just me. My low energy state if you want.” He paused for a moment considering then added teasingly, “I can’t change my shape much in human form.”

“Human form?” Jason asked curiously.

Danny hummed, and reached out slowly, leaving plenty of time for Jason to move away. He didn’t. He did shudder though, when cold fingers brushed his cheek and trailed down his throat. He could feel the power held in check, a tsunami behind a dam. Holding Danny’s eyes he tilted his head back to give him more room.

Danny sucked in a breath. His eyes darkened and Jason felt the power ripple.

“Maybe I’ll show you,” Danny said slowly, “if you’re very good.”

Jason swallowed. Yeah, he could be good. He could be very good.

When Danny kissed him, Jason thought this hadn’t been too bad a day after all. Even despite the weirdness, Jason would take it. And the night? The night was shaping up to be all the better.

Bonus:

“What the Hell, Jason!”Jason startled awake at Dick’s outburst from behind him.

“You couldn’t have called us to say you were alright? I know you have more than the one phone!” Dick continued his tirade.

Danny was as awake as Jason and looked up at him with wide eyes from where he was conveniently hidden by Jason’s larger frame. Jason resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Wing,” he said tiredly as he worked to disentangle himself from Danny and turn around, but Dick didn’t even hear. He was pacing back and forth, very much not done with his rant.

“Nooooo, you get grabbed on open street and we get to find some weird cult, with a huge magic circle and strange bubbling liquids, and they have your wallet and phone - and your tracker. I can’t believe you didn’t bother to get it when you escaped!”

“Wing,” Jason tried again.

“Of all the-“

“Nightwing!” Jason said firmly with great emphasis on the call sign.

Dick spun to look at him finally. He did a double take when he saw Danny peeking over Jason’s shoulder with wide eyes.

“Danny, meet my friend Nightwing, we go back a long time. Like I mentioned, my dad being who he is, kidnapping is a risk and you meet people this way.” Jason gave Dick a telling glare and his mouth clicked shut, message obviously delivered: Jason was not compromised but he sure would be if Dick kept blabbering.

“Wing, this is Danny, my co-would-be-sacrifice. He’s a regular Houdini with rope and locked doors, he got us out.”

“Hi,” Danny said hesitantly raising a hand in a little wave.

Dick rubbed his face. “You could have called.”

“I was busy.”

“I can see that! Just-” Dick threw up his hands and walked to the window he’d entered through, “call your dad before you get busy again, he’s worried.”

He left through the window and didn’t even bother to close it, dick. Jason turned to look at Danny, he was beet red.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, “I didn’t even consider they might have taken your things.”

“They didn’t take yours?” They mustn’t have, Danny had gotten them food.

“I- um,” Danny grimaced then admitted, “I store my phone and wallet in my thigh for the most part.”

For a moment Jason stared, then he burst out laughing. Danny slapped his chest.

“It’s not that funny!”

But really it was, especially because of the way Danny pouted. He leaned down to kiss the pout away but Danny stopped him with a hand over his mouth.

“No, you go call your dad so we don’t get more surprise visitors.”

- Hope you enjoyed! If I get the time I want to write a small sequel for one of the last days, but I haven't started yet so we'll see.

[terrestrialnoob]

To say that Bruce Wayne didn’t like Vlad Masters would be an understatement. Masters refused to treat anyone not obviously rich with any decency, was allergic to admitting he was wrong, used underhanded business tactics to get unconscionably one-sided deals, and kept everything just barely on the side of legal. All on top of having the reputation as one of America’s Most Charitable Billionaires with how much money he gave into rare disease research, that just so happened to also be America’s second biggest tax write-off for one individual. It wasn’t a private feud either. Bruce had gotten, first, in a donation war for who could fund the most charities, which Bruce had thought was in good fun, until it soon became clear that Masters was taking it far too seriously and tried to sabotage a charity event. Bruce wasn’t sure how he did it, but “it was lucky that Batman was there” to get everyone out of the burning building. Bruce then learned just how competitive the man was, and if he didn’t let him win, there’d be more innocent people put into danger.

So, you could imagine his surprise when he got a phone call from a dejected sounding Vlad Masters. “Bruce, it may be hard to believe, but I need your help.”

“With what?” Bruce didn’t want to deal with this man-child’s ego tripping, but he could never refused a cry for help, whether legitimate or a trap.

Vlad sighed loudly into the phone and Bruce thought for a moment he had been hung up on and missed the beep. But after the long pause Vlad said, “Recently, some old college friends of mine died.”

Bruce absorbed that in the shorter pause that followed. First that someone like Vlad had friends, and second, that their deaths meant something to him.

Vlad continued, “Jack had been a rival of mine and I had never forgiven him for marrying the woman I’d loved or – he also caused an accident that had left me hospitalized for months. I still say we were friends because, well, he never stopped trying to be mine despite how horrible I was to him. We had met when he and I were in a horrible punk band, and then I met his friend Maddie and the three of us made – Sorry, I don’t mean to ramble...”

“It’s understandable,” Bruce responded, “But, you said you needed my help? I have a really good grief counselor if that’s something you’d like?”

“Ah no, you see, Jack and Maddie had a son,” Vlad paused, “They had a daughter too, but she was home when their basement laboratory blew up and their entire house collapsed into it. The three of them, as well as three other teenagers, died. Danny was the only one to survive, and he is now in my care.”

“Jesus,” Bruce sighed, “Does he-”

“Before you offer, a bad experience with a school counselor has him sworn off seeing any kind of professional.” Vlad cut in, “And my bad behavior with his parents beforehand has convinced him I’m some kind of evil supervillain who wants world domination or some such nonsense. He wouldn’t trust anyone who’s associated with me in any way.”

Bruce nodded, seeing where this was going, “But you and I are openly rivals.”

Vlad hummed in agreement, “And you unfortunately have firsthand experience with both losing your parents and helping a grieving teen through the same.”

Bruce sighed, he was getting another kid, wasn’t he?

[calder]

hello! i stumbled across your blog very recently and am curious as to what the tag v13 means- sorry if you’ve answered this before, i’m on mobile!

fallout is based on wasteland. wasteland is based on a canticle for liebowitz. a canticle for liebowitz is about catholics bickering about fiction in the dust of america for hundreds and hundreds of years. it is about religion and the concept of a dark age

VAULT 13: A GURPS Post-Nuclear Adventure was the ip's name in the conceptual phase. the very first VAULT 13 worldbuilding pitch doc--a timeline--spoke of a Dark God, a term deployed throughout Fallout but only contextualized in the fallout bible, which does not actually use the term. Laura has a special voiced line just for Tell Me About: Dark,God: "The what?"

Project V-13 was interplay's original Fallout Online, which was cancelled by the publisher bethesda like fifteen years ago now.

pylon v-13 is a location at the end of Fallout 76's map where a character from Project V-13 built a time portal and disappeared. it is the most cursed location in the game

by accepting its premise, we arrive at v13 lore, the rejection of canon in light of canonical time travel and multiverse, which has always been a thing, and is also literally a joke. it's the realization that fallout is defined by creativity, interpretation, expression, and argument. it is the understanding that non-canon lore and controversial lore are basic and vital pieces of the history of the setting. and it's the begrudging admission that fallout is a cultural legend, irreplaceable and beyond anyone's control. fallout makes sense to everyone and demands our imagination. it always will

enabled by all the most hated and rejected lore, my characters are time-travelling supervillains who know the things i know, and scour the wastelands endlessly to expand their knowledge. this diegetic headspace and cosmology is a lens i use to explore the concepts of conspiracy theory, paranormal thought, religion, and occultism, all of which i am deeply critical of. i have learned a lot about these matters because i was able to fully engage with them in the context of fallout.

also the talking deathclaws lived in vault 13 and the courier carries the vault 13 canteen. there's also some esoteric shit about 13 high priests, 13 ghouls, and 13 landmarks. it's a pretty specific throughline. it's there if you're mad enough to look for it. and we'll never really know what it means if anything

thats what it means. to me

another thing i always say is. any setting where humans don't see ghosts is a strange fantasy. humans have always seen ghosts. don't mean ghosts are real. just means folks see ghosts. and at some point you gotta talk about it

hope this isnt complete nonsense

[geevesthevieve]

Deleted scene/alternate opening from "Back to Back" ch. 2

The times when his brain betrayed him by flinging him back into that hell begotten warehouse were always at the worst possible moments.  

It started with him removing his helmet, which was also horrid timing. The filters had a nasty habit of clogging if not regularly cleaned out, which caused the thing to overheat. He’d been sweating as the stuffy air practically had him choking for the past ten minutes. So he’d taken the first opportunity he could and unfastened it, tucked it under his arm, and took clear, blessed breaths… Or as clear as one could at an old, musty factory left to decay with the useless ‘Keep Out’ signs doing nothing for the homeless and the addicts just trying to stay out of the cold or get their fix in peace. Clearing them out while they’d been doing a sweep for the latest wannabe supervillain’s traps that she’d left around this side of town had taken way too long and now Jason just really wanted a cigarette.

Then he heard the beeping. 

Maybe it was the tone or maybe it was how it started soft and got louder and faster with each tick. But Jason’s heart-rate followed suit, ratcheting up.

His vision darkened around the edges and the crumbling plaster and chipped stone became desiccated wood where he was barely managing to drag his mangled body across the floor, his shattered bones shifting as they scraped along the warped, splintered surface. Every fiber of him screamed. His mouth filled with the coppery tang of blood, shaping around nonsensical words that had probably been some pointless desperate plea to anyone that might be around to find him. 

The only reply he got was the ever increasing beeps.

“Hood! Get down!”

Louder and louder, high pitched, grating down on his ears. More insistent like it wasn't the only thing pulsating through Jason at that very moment…well, there was always the laughter. The maniacal laughter and the thud of metal against his ribs. 

It was going to stop soon and then the burning would envelop him. Blisters would form and burst in a matter of milliseconds. His eyes would melt and the world would go dark, but the lightless fire would continue to devour him. It would be fast, but it would take eons. 

“Jason!”

Then he’d be gone again.

Something hard slammed into his side, knocking him behind a pillar, right as the last beep sounded, and the blue and black figure that had shoved him to the ground blew past him as the bomb exploded.

It was bright and hot just like before, and then there was nothing.

Nothing.

Then… 

Ringing.

Piercing ringing replaced everything else, rattling against his skull, making him tremble. Jason blinked hard and coughed as more dust and smoke filled his lungs. He waved his arms in front of him and rammed his elbow into something hard, sending a tingling shockwave through it. He cursed, but his tongue tasted like chalk and dirt. He also was aware that he hadn’t even heard his voice when he’d spoken. 

Pushing past the raucous coughs, and spatting out the powdery taste in his mouth, he managed to somewhat settle the hard thrumming battering against his chest. The constant chiming continued going strong against his eardrums. He clapped his hands over the sides of his head and waited until other sounds started to wash the ringing further back. Then he opened his eyes again, letting them adjust to the new darkness. He squinted around for his helmet, but it was nowhere within his current view. There were only fallen columns and the crushed rusted machinery from whatever had used to be assembled here. 

Jason slowly eased himself up, dodging around the cracked pillar he’d been sheltered by, and gasped as a sharp pain shot up through his abdomen, along with a harsh creaking from his ribcage. His clanging head pounded, and the air hit an open wound at his scalp. He brushed his fingers along it and stared blankly at his bloodied hand when he brought it back around.  

He’d just had to take his helmet off.

Blinking hard, he again tried to do a scan for it in the rubble. It had his comms in it. He hated the little earpieces that went directly in his ear, but he was regretting not having one as a back-up. He needed to let the others know what had happened. Most of the bats were on the other side of the city. It had just been him and—

An icy wave poured down Jason’s back.

“Oh, shit.” He stumbled. He wasn’t sure if it was over some debris or just from his still spinning head. He just managed to catch himself on an overturned conveyor-belt—or what once might have been a conveyor-belt. He barely took the moment to clear the lingering vertigo that had his stomach flipping over too. Bracing himself on his elbows, his eyes raked over the landfill of a factory with much more fervor, the cold flooding through his veins with the force of a burst dam. “Dick!” He yelled out into the dark—screwing protocol. 

There was no reply.

Jason's heart thudded loud again, warring against the remnant ringing. There was enough awareness in him to recall his brother slamming into him. Dick might have actually been speaking to him before that, probably shouting at him to move or something before he’d jumped into action. A blur of the Nightwing suit being flung away seared across Jason’s mind’s eye.

“Dammit.” His chest rose and fell too rapidly. “Dammit!” Shoving himself off the conveyor-belt, he staggered over in the direction he thought he’d seen Dick fly.

---------------------------------

---This is just what the title says. It's from my fic "Back to Back". This was initially how I'd started the first chapter, but I realized it wasn't paralleling the first chapter like it was supposed to. So I scrapped most of it an kept some of the pieces. It's not much different. I just sort of skip this part and summarize it in the actual fic 😁 But I was going through a few things, while working on a few other new fics (I really hope to be able to post soon) and found this. So... figured I'd post it for fun!---

[suzukiblu]

Day two NaNoWriMo; obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

"Well, you are the plan guy," Kon says, grinning again and pushing his sunglasses up into his hair. "Supreme?" 

"Works for me," Tim says. It's meat and dairy and bread and vegetables and Kon is probably invulnerable to heart disease, so he figures that's basically health food to him, right? Especially if he needs more calories than the average guy. 

Pizza's sure as shit gonna be more satisfying than a protein bar, if nothing else. 

Tim's definitely ordering like, breadsticks or wings or something too. And maybe a two-liter or two. Cinnamon bread. Something. Hell, he'll buy all that and then some if he has to. He's got the money. 

Who the hell decided it was okay to let this happen? Really. Is there literally no responsible adult in Kon's life to intervene in this situation? Dubbilex was made by Cadmus too and has his own issues with managing to have an out-of-lab life, Rex Leech is apparently out of the picture, which might be a blessing anyway, Tana Moon is equally MIA, and Superman has apparently lost his entire damn mind, so . . .

There's literally no responsible adult in Kon's life to intervene in this situation, is there. There's no irresponsible adult in Kon's life to intervene in this situation. As far as Tim knows, every single other one Kon knows is either Cadmus-employed or a supervillain or just completely uninvested in his existence. 

Maybe Tim should be talking to Red Tornado about this. Is this something he should be talking to Red Tornado about?

. . . sure, that'd help. Red Tornado is about five minutes back into being a person and has Traya and Kathy and the whole team to worry about, and absolutely could handle something like this while also trying to figure out his own shit and keep an eye on all the rest of them too. Sure. That'd work. 

This is a problem, Tim thinks. 

This is a definite problem, in fact. 

He has no idea what to do about this problem, though, so he just orders a truly inadvisable amount of pizza and wings and double-iced cinnamon bread for pickup. They've done weirder than get takeout in the Super-Cycle and they'll do weirder again. Besides, it could use the . . . exercise, or whatever that counts as. Not like the Super-Cycle has muscles, but it does get tired sometimes and seem to appreciate getting out and–well, whatever. That's just something to figure out later, probably. 

Tim really should figure that out, though. And also if the Super-Cycle is gonna be down for going supervillain, because yeah, that's obviously a thing to keep in mind. 

He flies it to the pizza joint, and spends the flight casually grilling Kon about his coworkers and employee benefits and the Cadmus security systems. The answers are: a lot of lab-born clones and too many grown-ass adults who have no excuse not to know better, work-related health care and nothing else, and Kon and Guardian, mostly. And also some random weird death traps and a couple of cameras here and there, apparently, but it all sounds incredibly dated to Tim's ears and it really seems like Kon and Guardian are taking on the lion's share of everything more complicated than watching a feed or flipping on an alarm system. Like, it really does. 

So that's not great. 

"Jesus, man, how much did you order?" Kon snorts with a laugh while Tim's paying the girl at the drive-up window in cash. He doesn't really want to explain this particular expense on the Bat credit card. Generally he doesn't want to explain takeout and junk food on there at all, in fact, though obviously he makes a point of going to Batburger with Steph once a month, just to hear Bruce sigh about it later. Appropriate teenage nonsense and all. He gets the kids' meal and the terrifyingly purple Spoiler shake every time. It tastes like acidic cotton candy. Yes, literally. "Like just the whole menu or what?" 

"Of course I did. I've got a Kryptonian to carry it all for me, don't I?" Tim replies with a smirk he doesn't really feel after everything he's learned today. Everything Kon just told him, because he doesn't see what's wrong with any of it. 

It reminds him of the abused kids he meets on the job who insist they're fine, and they don't need Batman and Robin to save them. 

He wonders if Jason was like that, when Bruce first met him. 

He also wonders if he maybe did over-order a little on the pizza, but worst case scenario the leftovers should fit in the fridge. 

. . . maybe, anyway. Probably. 

Mostly? 

Kon immediately cracks into the cinnamon bread on the flight back because he has absolutely no manners whatsoever, and Tim rolls his eyes at him and tries not to visibly brood over the five-alarm fire burning down his brain right now. 

He just . . . doesn't understand how Superman is apparently just fine with this situation. He doesn't even understand how Kon is fine with this situation, but is increasingly certain that the answer to that might just be that Kon doesn't think he has another option. 

He doesn't have another option, as far as Tim can tell. What would he do, crash at the base and just mooch off everyone else for food and gear and whatever else he needs day-to-day? 

Yeah, not exactly a sustainable lifestyle, that. 

Not even a little bit of one. 

Technically, Tim could just pay for whatever Kon needed, between his allowance and his trust fund and without even taking his Bat-stipend into account, but there is no possible way Kon would ever actually go for that. He's way too proud, and even someone with no pride at all would probably find "please let me pay you to quit your horrible job" a hard pill to swallow from a teammate, much less the leader they only barely recognize the authority of.

[crazycatgirl420]

The Fine Print

dpxdc universe travel fic part number unknown Who is Danny's mother? Helena Bertinelli - The Huntress of Gotham. Because I thought it was funny that one of Constantine's love interests lives in Gotham. Does this make Danny a Gothamite? Yes. Yes it does.

Danny loved his new mother. She was a complicated woman with hidden depths and a moral code only she could really try explaining. She was a Hero, but also a crime boss, and was friends with a few supervillains, Danny wasn't going to try wrapping his head around how that worked he just knew that it did.

The first time Danny did something magical adjacent, he was a baby. He didn't really remember it, how his new mortal body was adapting to his endless source of magic from the Infinite Realms. Mama got videos though, after the first time she found him floating near the ceiling of his nursery.

Then Danny got older, and the first demon showed up to claim him. Mama had been feeding him when it happen, a very inconvenient situation all things considered. The demon head was displayed in the parlor room, Mama's line in the sand so to speak.

Mama did her best to protect him. She killed anyone, from any realm, that thought to take Danny from her. She brought him along to meetings, criminally inclined and otherwise.

That was how Danny got a hold of Krypotine. He was three when he first stole a glowing rock, and found it was like candy. He'd been sitting on his mother's lap while she and a few hero coworkers discussed a recent metor shower of the dangerous rock, a few scattered on the conference table.

Danny had been overwhelmed with an impulsive need to put the glowing rock in his mouth.

Climbing onto the table. Crawling toward the center, where the rocks were. Picking one up.

It was pretty tasty, like a sour jaw breaker covered in cinnamon pop rocks.

"Did he just-"

"Yep,"

Danny ignored the adults, as he vanished the candy rocks into his personal pocket demsion.

"And he just-"

"Yep."

The other Heroes looked to the baby's mother. Danny kept sucking on the candy rock in his hand, big blue eyes watching them with pure innocence.

"What do you have there Danny?" Mama asked.

"Candy,"

"And is it safe for you to eat?"

Danny nodded, his eyes flashing green

"You can't just let him eat Kryptonite, Huntress, you know that stuff is -"

"My son is a powerful warlock of some sort, with the voice of a space God in his head or some such nonsensical magical bullshit. If the space divinity says Danny is safe eating it then it's fine."

The only 'space divinity' in Danny's head was his own conscious but it wasn't like she knew that, and it didn't make her statement false either.

"That doesn't make sense! It's radioactive!"

"Nothing about my kid makes sense."

Danny watched the very important meeting between Heroes devolve into petty arguments and rising old grudges.

Then Mama pulled out her crossbow.

☆|☆|☆|☆|☆|☆|☆|☆|☆|☆|☆| Tag list attempt 1

@starlight-storytime

@the-legal-shipper

@deeannthepan

@dopegrandma

@berseid

@just-rant-and-write-fic-idea

@mandyne-1001

@the-nerdy-fangirl

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Independent clever Hero who doesn’t trust the brooding villains true feelings for them, and keeps second guessing everything villain does!!

“Enchantée,” the hero purred. Their eyes were drawn to the supervillain, concentrated and observing quietly. Every micro-expression, every little change — nothing escaped the hero. They were highly focused on their target and they didn’t plan on failing this mission. “It’s a pleasure to have met you.”

The supervillain gave them a once over and hummed satisfactorily. All night long, they’d been in a good mood and the hero had used that to get close to them. Rare opportunities like this demanded to be taken advantage of. The hero was ready to sacrifice whatever this mission needed them to.

Everything had gone smoothly but — unfortunately — it would’ve been much easier if it wasn’t for the villain.

The villain who was currently squeezing their wineglass hard enough to make it crack and burst. The villain who kept glaring at them. The villain who had helped them get an invitation (in exchange for a ridiculous amount of money) and introduced them to the supervillain.

“We will meet again, I hope,” the supervillain said.

“I could pay you a visit once the gala is over,” the hero said. “If you’ll have me.”

Their eyes found the supervillain’s lips and they were this close to making a move. This close to gaining a drop of their trust and getting a second meeting.

“Lovely idea. I don’t think your date over there—” they nodded towards the villain who had murder in their eyes “—would appreciate that, though. But, yeah. Enchantée.” They smiled politely, did something close to a bow and disappeared in the crowd filled with boring people.

The hero turned around immediately, burning from the inside as they approached their “date.”

“What are you doing?” they hissed. They took away the cracked glass and placed it on the bar behind the villain. They didn’t have time for this nonsense, god, they had almost nothing.

Unfortunately, the supervillain was someone who would come to social gatherings once in a blue moon. How the hell were you supposed to build a relationship with someone who lived like a fucking hermit crab? How the hell were you supposed to get all the information on them when they revealed absolutely nothing?

The hero sighed and the villain just stared.

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

The villain blinked, looking confused, then angry again. The hero knew they didn’t talk much but god, if they were acting suspicious enough for the supervillain to notice…it sabotaged the whole operation, it ruined everything.

“What were you doing anyway? Destroying wineglasses?”

“The other one was a champagne glass,” the villain said.

“Christ, you’ve got some nerves.” The hero stared at the crowd, trying to spot the supervillain but it was useless — they were probably in their hotel already, or even worse, scheming in their home.

Eventually, the hero eyes fell on the glass again. The cracks looked like spiderwebs, drawing across the glass. And then, they realised there was blood on the glass.

The hero looked at their nemesis’ hands and indeed, they were bleeding.

“Hell, why did you…” The hero didn’t finish the sentence nor the thought. Instead, they took the villain’s hand into theirs and observed once again. Suddenly, it didn’t matter that much that the supervillain had gotten away.

So what? They’d have to improvise, as always. The hero’s intuition was brilliant, something they’d trained to perfection. Next time, if there was a next time, they would get them and they would finish this.

“What made you so angry?” They hadn’t found any shards, so they stole a napkin from the bar and dabbed on the villain’s skin, soaking up the blood carefully.

“…don’t you know?”

No. No, the hero didn’t know. The hero did not know. And maybe, the hero didn’t want to know. Maybe they shouldn’t have asked, maybe they shouldn’t have done this.

Because this couldn’t be the reason, right? This couldn’t be the explanation.

“No,” the hero lied.

“Oh.” The muscles in the villain’s fingers spasmed whenever the hero came close to the cuts but the hero held them gently and was careful. “It was just an accident.”

Somehow, hearing that was more devastating than watching the supervillain leave.

[y-rhywbeth2]

Hello I love bane totally normal amounts, so do you have any favorite fun (or fucked up) trivia facts about my emotional support god of tyranny?

I might've mentioned some of this before, but here's some trivia (and sometimes my musings upon it):

He has absolutely no indoor voice when he's excited. -

If you're invited to pray with the Banites and refuse, expect Bane to curse you with constant debilitating pain that prevents you from being able to cast spells (too much pain to concentrate) or fight, or walk very fast. This doesn't go away until you get a cleric to cast remove curse on you. If you do join them in honouring the Black Lord then your alignment will magically switch to lawful evil and you basically convert to Banite on the spot (if you're a priest then your god fires you immediately and won't take you back); this is either 1e nonsense or a sign of Bane brainwashing you, and either is just as likely. -

He - in his own words - has an "ever-gnawing hunger for miracles and wonder". He also has 10 levels of wizard, which might tie into that. -

He seems to have a monster making hobby. There are so many monsters and monster variants that have been copyrighted by Bane it's ridiculous: banedead, baneguard, baneliches, banelar nagas... I'm pretty sure that Bane is actually credited with creating the beholders ("eye tyrants") of Toril, though I don't have the time to go looking for a source on that.

Either way; he has a lot of beholders in his service. -

I'm pretty sure I remember something about his inventing his own traps during his stay at Zhentil Keep, so there might be an engineering hobby in there somewhere. -

He's a nerd about human biology and geeks out about blood cells and neuroscience - not that he'd admit it because the idea of being thrilled by mortality terrifies him (also I think he just hates positive emotions in general). Before the Time of Troubles he used to enjoy possessing mortals as hosts instead of manifesting avatars, which would presumably allow him to experience what they did and geek out about it while pretending he wasn't (although he didn't look after them very well and inevitably ran them into the ground - basic human needs are beneath him). -

He seems to like using black and red lightning of some sort as a kind of signature. -

(...I think this guy would be very happy as a supervillain living in his secret lab somewhere, performing mad scientist experiments as he plots to take over the world.) -

His domain can be annoying to pin down, because technically it started off in the plane of Acheron, but he's also supposed to be rooming with Loviatar and Bhaal in the Barrens of Doom and Despair in Gehenna, so who knows! -

He has a pet raven called Koravis, who he has a mild telepathic connection with. This raven is actually a fiend in the shape of a raven, but that pretty much just means he has an evil pet raven.

It's been stated that in his mortal life his character class was Blackguard - or an evil paladin, in 5e terms, dedicated to the service of evil powers. I suspect his patron was his master, the primordial Maram, who he served as a battle slave. As the evil pet raven is a Blackguard class feature (fiendish servant) I suspect he had Koravis when he was mortal. The bird/fiend was likely given to him by Maram (much like a warlock's pact familiar comes from their patron) and I guess the bird stuck with the winner. -

He managed to piss off the earth goddess Chauntea at one point, trying to destroy her sacred pools/portals in the Moonshaes. I can't find the sourcebook for the details at the moment though (it was successful enough that his followers still have the moonveil spells though). Bhaal was also trying to kill her over there at some point, so I wonder if that's connected?

[monsoon-of-art]

Maybe your Neon Hero universe could have a mermaid themed supervillain who turns people into mermaids for some reason (or would that be too similar the animal guy that you just created)

I have a justification for my self indulgent nonsense, if you'll spare me the time

It will be an alternate reality, where Dragonfly is just a very well meaning citizen who wants to clean up a river/lake but keeps having to deal with bullshit like rich people trying to cover it in cement (Snake Eyes and Ant Queen), assholes (Lovebug, Damselfly, Drosera), and a really really pissed off fish (Hayday)

Clay is another mer, an octopus that escaped from the lab. But he can pull an Octodad and pretend to be human if needed.

[writebackatya]

Darkwing Duck’s* Biggest Fans Haters

*As in the old tv show from the world of DuckTales (2017), not the superhero Drake Mallard assumes the identity of to fight evil

To fans like Drake Mallard and Launchpad McQuack, Darkwing Duck is the greatest piece of television history that helped shape their lives to become the ducks they are today thanks to its titular hero who never gave up despite the odds against him

To the rest of the world, Darkwing Duck was just another superhero show from the 90s that starred a problematic diva d-list actor that may or may not have died

Opinions are subjective of course, neither are 100% correct nor incorrect but I feel like when the fandom talks about Darkwing Duck it’s always about the characters that would also like the show. So why not flip the script a little? We’ll start small and work our way up to its biggest hater

Gosalyn Waddlemeyer:

“GOSALYN!?” You might be screaming at your monitor/phone to which I have to say:

“Yeah”

Again we are not talking about the Drake Mallard or his super identity here, but the tv show he and Launchpad are obsessed with. Because frankly, I bet Gosalyn loves doing all that superhero stuff with her adoptive dads. It’s a cool life to live!

Other than the fact that Drake is a huge nerd who INSISTS that Gosalyn do her “homework” and watch every episode of Darkwing Duck, read all the sacred texts (comic books), and playing the original Darkwing Duck video game on the original hardware so she won’t use the rewind or save features that modern games or ROMs have

Like all kids who have had an adult push their interests onto them, she has a little disdain for the show. But not a whole lot since she’s first on this list. I like to think she’s in the same boat as Dewey where she finds the show cheesy and doesn’t really hate it per say and sees why Drake and LP love the show. She even has a few guilty pleasure episodes

But one thing she doesn’t understand is why Drake and Launchpad insist on watching the Darkwing Duck Christmas Special every year when they’re both practicing Jews

Scrooge McDuck:

Yeah the old man can barely remember Drake, let alone the Darkguy Drake played in that movie he cancelled so I don’t really see Scrooge being a fan of the Masked Mallard. (No, not that Masked Mallard OG DuckTales fans)

If Scrooge did sit down and watch the show, he’d find it to be rather ridiculous if anything. Some vigilante running around dressed like The Spirit or The Shadow or whatever superhero kids are into these days getting slapped around and fighting back just doesn’t seem like his cup of tea

I like to think when Donald and Della were kids they watched Darkwing Duck at the mansion and Scrooge just walked by the room, looked at the TV for a few seconds, scoffed, and moved on with his life forgetting all about that nonsense his niece and nephew were watching

Louie Duck:

Honestly I always had this headcanon that Louie just isn’t a fan of superheroes. Like at all. He finds the stories all copy and paste, using all the cliches he hates from other genres and putting them in tights.

And don’t even get him started on superhero related adventures! If he sees a sky beam, Louie is running in the opposite direction of it. He’s not dealing with the many different diva supervillains out there trying to take over the world with cartoony extreme measures, he doesn’t wanna be around all that property damage

He does have a favorite superhero tho. Waddle Duck because he gave him a Pep once

Lena Sabrewing:

She thinks it’s lame.

Gandra Dee:

This is a no brainer for me. Gandra Dee made herself Darkwing Duck’s biggest hater the moment she heard the duck talk shit about Gizmoduck around Fenton who insisted she does not reveal his secret identity to Drake, because Drake is all he has left

Wanting to respect her boyfriend’s wishes, Gandra decides not to spill the beans but instead add more fuel to the fire by talking shit about Darkwing Duck

And she does not hold back

She’s not ashamed to talk shit on the show. It’s predictablity, it’s cheesiness, the plot holes, how lame it was for its own time, etc

It ain’t her childhood, she ain’t afraid to fight dirty either. She will bring up problematic episodes that depicted races in a not so good and stereotypical light (“It was the nineties! They were different times!” -Drake probably) such as the fact that in one episode Darkwing Duck called a group of Native Americans “primitive savages” or that a non-Asian actor played an Asian character in a sterotypcial manner and that how one of the characters names was “Duck Ling”(Okay but for real, all that shit did happen in the OG show.)

This of course frustrates Drake who is extra suspicious of Gandra ever since he saw her with Gizmoduck and writes her off as a blind fan girl who doesn’t know what she’s talking about

She’s pretty chill about not being into the show with Launchpad tho. He respects her opinions because he’s Launchpad and at the end of the day Gandra is still his friend

[ilikekidsshows]

Love square for the relationahip ask game.

Relationship scale ask game

This couple starts off with Miraculous Brand Nonsense(TM). Some people find it problematic that Marinette knows so much about Adrien and follows him around so much, but it's played for laughs, and the show leans into the idea that a little bit of obsessiveness is normal in this universe.

Then Marinette starts growing out of it, she starts being able to talk to Adrien more normally as the episodes pass and this ship seems to be headed for more secure ground.

Then, all of a sudden, we get told that, actually, the “slightly obsessive” behavior is actually a sign of Marinette being emotionally and mentally unstable, but she’s still not going to get therapy for it or anything, because she was bullied so bad it traumatized her and that means she should get a free pass where no one ever seriously confronts her about her issues.

In addition, Marinette’s behavior starts getting worse. The sense of entitlement increases and the show treats it as justified because, well, Adrien is gonna end up dating Marinette, he just doesn't know it yet. We also go backwards on her communication, instead making Adrien do all the work in the relationship while Marinette sneaks around making sure her boyfriend isn't keeping secrets from her. And the show treats her as being in the right because Adrien just happens to be surrounded by supervillains and Adrien doesn't have any boundaries around her. Marinette doesn’t know any of this when she does the things she does but the facts are treated as a full justification. This all culminates in her gaslighting Adrien about how his dad was totally a good guy being treated as a happy ending.

The Ladynoir relationship, on the other hand, has been on the decline since 'Reflekdoll', and not even the attempt to do the power swap right the second time around could fix the damage done. Ladybug has been increasingly treating Cat Noir as more of an obstacle than a partner, where keeping important information from him is more important than keeping it from their main enemy, while Cat Noir pretends he’s fine with all this because he still isn't allowed to have boundaries even in the persona that supposedly grants him freedom.

This ship used to be fun. Can you believe it?

[pluckyredhead]

Is the ideal superhero story/setting one that you would read even without villains?

I guess by definition yes, because it would be ideal?

I think this depends a lot on what you mean by "villains." I don't necessarily need supervillains in a story, but are we also talking about street crime, organized crime, corrupt cops and politicians, etc? Because I do think you need conflict, and natural disasters only go so far.

I'm not a person who cares all that much about villains, and I think modern superhero comics are way overinvested in supervillains and constantly upping the ante in showing how badass they are and endless pages of nonsense about "look at us, our destinies are intertwined, clowns are the natural enemy of bats" like SHUT UP. If I never read another story with the goddamn Joker in it again it will be too soon. There's also that old chestnut of "superheroes create supervillains" which I find fucking exhausting and contrived as hell. Like just because you dress up as a bat to stop a mugger, it's your fault someone else decides to murder people with riddles? What??? "Don't help anyone, you'll create monsters!" SHUT UP!!!

Street level heroes do particularly well in stories where they're fighting organized crime and corruption; some of the most beloved stories and eras for Batman, Green Arrow, and Daredevil focus on this. (Green Arrow should probably almost never fight supervillains. His villains are so dumb.)

Even Superman - one of my favorite Superman eras ever is the Golden Age, where there were almost no supervillains and the ones he fought were often relatively harmless and it was more about exposing their cons than fighting them (Prankster, Toyman, my beloved J. Wilbur Wolfingham). These stories, again, often focused more on corruption and exploitation - which, crucially, means that Clark Kent has as big of a role to play in the story as Superman. I'm not saying get rid of Lex Luthor and Brainiac (although I think Lex also works best as a corrupt businessman instead of a guy in green and purple armor), but I do think there are many stories that can be told about Superman that don't require supervillains. And I think that requires refocusing on the idea that Superman is not here to fight bad people, he's here to help ordinary people.

But on the other hand...I don't know what the hell you would do with the Flash without supervillains. I just don't see how anything else would challenge him. "The Flash exposes a corrupt politician" just doesn't work for me unless said corrupt politician has hired Captain Cold for protection or something, I don't know why.

So I'm not saying get rid of supervillains, because they have their place. But I think the current emphasis on them is unnecessary, and overemphasizes the importance of, like, punitive and retributive justice and heavily militarized policing. There are not bogeymen in our streets in wacky costumes murdering dozens with freeze guns or whatever, but there is widespread and systemic corruption and abuse in business, politics, and law enforcement, so if we're going to have inspirational stories about defeating evil, I know where I think the emphasis should be. Superhero comics don't always have to be drawn from life and I enjoy a silly story where the Flash fights the Rainbow Raider as much as anyone else, but I think every so often it would be helpful for writers to take a step back and think "Hmm, what is this hero actually fighting and why?"

[foolishlovers]

Hello hello! Would you mind recommending a few more of your favorite ineffable wives fics? They really do mean the world to me :)

sure, here are some ineffable wives fics i enjoyed:

Caught In The Web Of Her Smile by WaitingToBeBroken (T, 2.2k) The inherent homoeroticism of having your archenemy/wife bound in your supervillain lair. Followed closely by the annoyance of discovering she doesn't really mind.

Roller Derby Queen by summerofspock (M, 2.5k) Crowley skates for Hell on Wheels and she's pretty good at it too. She'd be better if she weren't so distracted by the new skater on the opposing team.

Do It With Style by RainyDayDecaf (T, 2.9k) “You see, I want to look… w-well, I’m afraid I don’t exactly know how to describe it. But I believe the term is butch…?” Or, Aziraphale gets a new look, and Crowley is her hair stylist.

A Nice Cup of Tea and a Sit-Down by KannaOphelia (T, 4.7k) Crowley had determinedly resisted any wasting of funds on alternative nonsense in her hospice, until she was forced to accept the cuddle therapist. There's no way any woman gave hugs that could be worth fifty pounds an hour. Any woman.

The one where Crowley has period cramps and Aziraphale takes care of her by livingforazirowley (G, 5k) A day spent at home, Crowley suffering from period cramps and Aziraphale taking care of her.

The Art of Human Nature by IneffableDoll (T, 6k) Crowley is a painter who has only ever had an eye for nature. That is, until a client named Aziraphale commissions her for a painting to boost her self-confidence, and Crowley discovers that her client is as beautiful as the Earth itself. Then she goes and catches feelings, because she’s a disaster.

Have Your Cake by Blue_Sparkle, summerofspock (E, 11k) Aziraphale runs into Crowley during one of her assignments at a country estate. It's been a few centuries but she thinks she'd remember if Crowley had always made her feel this way.

Coming Home by TawnyOwl95 (E, 35k) Aziraphale isn’t running away. She is making space to regroup after she caught her husband bending his PA over the kitchen counter. (She’ll never be able to roll out pastry there again!) Crowley is not hiding. She is taking a moment to recover from a stressfully successful career in London's financial sector (And all the questionable life decisions she made to pursue this.) They’ve both returned to their home town and aren’t expecting to fall in love again. But with twice as much baggage and far more hurts than when they were teenagers, it’s going to take a miracle to stop history repeating itself.